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#funny. but also oh my god it took me so long to notice that when ur playing u can activate the ghost mode anytime.......the projector scene
katnisspeetaprim · 1 month
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Painting Lucifer's Nails
Lucifer Morningstar/Reader
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Based on the above request! Requests are also open for Hazbin Hotel! Feel free to send some over!
Warning: None, just fluff and some kissing
Word Count: 508 Hazbin M.list
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‘Ugh, Lucifer can’t you stop fidgeting for two seconds? I’m going to mess up.’ Your grip on his wrist tightened, effectively pinning his hand to the table.
‘But this takes so long though!’ He groaned out dramatically, throwing his free hand up in the air.
‘Oh hush!’ You yanked on his arm again, making him stumble in his seat ‘You’re the one who wanted them painted! Plus I’m almost done.’
‘Fine.’ Lucifer mumbled under his breath, leaning his chin against his free hand in defeat.
‘You should try another colour sometime, you know, something other than black.’ You smirked at him as he admired your work.
‘Ah and what would you suggest? Lime green? Hot pink? Rubber duck yellow maybe?’ He leaned across the table, giving you a sly grin. You returned his gaze and also leaned across the table so your faces were inches apart.
‘Well with a face as handsome as yours, you could pull anything off.’ You took your pointer finger and playfully stroked under his chin.
The two of you held each others gaze for a moment, before you both just burst out laughing.
‘Ok, enough with the corn.’ Lucifer wiped a tear of laughter from under his eye.
‘What? Can I not compliment my handsome, not to mention super sexy boyfriend?’ You fluttered your eyelashes as you teased your short king.
Lucifer suddenly appeared beside you, and pulled you to lean against him by your waist.
‘Ok. Maybe I like the compliments... Just a little.’ He smiled down at you, before leaning in an placing a soft kiss against your lips.
You relaxed into the kiss, before shooting your eyes open and abruptly pulling away.
‘You better not have smudged your nail polish!’ You grabbed his hand again and narrowed our eyes to inspect the paint.
Lucifer snorted with laughter once again.
‘Doll I’m the king of Hell! If I can’t get quick drying nail polish, then what god am I? He shrugged with a smirk again. You rolled your eyes. Of course he was smug over nail polish.
Noticing he was distracted, you took the opportunity to jab your fingers into his side.
‘Ah!’ Lucifer yelped out, doubling over from the ticklish sensation.
You doubled over in laughter, almost falling out of your seat.
‘Oh, you think that’s funny do ya?’ He grinned mischievously, before suddenly lunging towards you.
‘Ahh!’ You squealed, but managed to dodge out the way and run from the room, giggling as you went.
‘You think you can escape from me!?’ Lucifer gave chase, hot on your heels.
Charlie was happily minding her own business walking down the hotel hallway, when two figures sped past her on either side, making her scream and jump a mile.
‘Hi Charlie! Bye Charlie!’ Lucifer yelled over his shoulder, not stopping for a second to even look back.
It took a second for Charlie to compose herself, but when she did, se had a content smile on her face as she watched you and her dad.
‘I’m really happy for you, dad.’
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tojjist · 3 months
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“At Least” S. Gojo
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☆ genre: angst to fluff (kinda)
☆ pairings: Gojo Satoru x f! reader
☆ summary: After Geto left, nothing has been the same. Especially not your relationship with Gojo Satoru. Once you decide to move to Kyoto for good, Gojo is less than pleased. But fate does not seem to want to let you go.
☆ cw: mentions of sex, depressed gojo, not spoiler free, hopping between timelines but like i added non-canon events, smoking, drinking, getting drunk, high school Gojo being a high school boy, cussing, mentions of drunk sex but it doesn’t happen, mentions character death (from the anime), gojo satoru (yes that's a trigger warning).
☆ wc : 5.6k
☆ a/n: this has been in the doing for so long? I've been waiting to have the chance to upload it for maybe a year now smh. Also was originally written for an irl of mine lmao
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“Oh my god,” you emphasize each word, pushing the wooden chair away with your knee. “Satoru, is it yours?”
His black pupils, lined with iris the color of morning skies, study your figure from behind the shaded glasses, pink lips quirking slightly upwards in approval of your attention.
“Nah, it's only staying with me for a week,” he stated, watching nervously as you strode over to him. “His owner is away for some business.”
Your attention remained fixed on the pet in Satoru's long, long arms. Your face lit up when a bark escaped the infant animal. “Can I hold it?”
Satoru watched over you carefully, pleading eyes coming in line with his blues. You make it hard to say anything other than an immediate yes, but he tries to stretch out the conversation to his best ability.
“It's 400 yen for 10 minutes,” he muttered, sarcasm dripping from his words. He earned a look of amusement from you; a small victory. He then braced himself for the next part. Satoru bent down, meeting you eye-to-eye, and noticed your breath catching in anticipation. “Or... you can shorten your skirt.”
Your face took no time to grow hot, not giving any verbal answer besides the blank expression you stare at him with. For a second, Gojo let himself think he's the victor of this little challenge he started in his head. But he soon came to realize how grave of a mistake he's made.
You're not flustered, you're angry.
“You're such a fucking pervert,” you fume, eyes glaring daggers. He dares not move, noticing the way your eyes flutter over his face.
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“You're truly unbelievable,” the shorter male chuckled, making sure he didn't bump into Satoru's now-bruised arm. “What were you even thinking?”
“I thought it was funny, y'know?” He huffed in response. Gojo's fingers ran through his own bright locks as he took a seat on the wood hung up by metal chains. "Besides, has she always been this strong? Physically, I mean."
Geto stared into the reddish sky of dusk, placing himself into a swing in turn and kicking the air so the swing would start moving. "I don't know. Girls are really full of surprises.”
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He never thought, not in a million years, things would come to this. Ever since Gojo's last encounter with Geto after he, well, changed... Gojo became unable to face anyone quite the same way he did before.
How did he get here? How did things escalate to this? Thinking about it, Geto had shown signs of a change in his heart and mind. It was Satoru's fault, was it not? He should have done better. He should have noticed. How could he not have? wasn't he the strongest? Wasn't that his job? How could he be so bad at everything?
How could he fail everyone like this?
“Gojo-San?”
Your feminine voice cut his train of thought. He almost forgot the situation he is now stuck in. He's been doing that a lot: losing himself in thought, mind almost immune to the outer world until he temporarily lost his sense of self. Nothing felt quite the same any more. It was like the world had lost its color.
“Sorry- What's up?” He turned to you. Gojo-san, you called him. When did you stop using his given name? What's with the '-san'? Gojo hadn't realized that losing one person was the first step, and now he found himself deep in the road of losing everyone.
And now he's stuck in the elevator with the girl he had liked for so long. He couldn't find it in himself to say anything to you, to push your buttons like he always did or joke around. When did the world become so heavy? He does not know.
“Are you okay? You seemed off.”
Your face is devoid of any genuine emotion, seemingly expressionless. But your voice is laced with concern. Gojo could only guess you didn't want him thinking you pity him or anything of such. But if that isn't the case, he wouldn't know. He's too tired to bother thinking about it.
“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine,” he smiled in assurance, “Just bothered by, well, this-” he threw his hand in the way of the control panel. The elevator doors have been stuck for almost twenty minutes now. How pleasant.
“uh huh,” you sigh, turning back around. How did you turn so cold?
When the silence stretches, you start a conversation, hesitant at first. “By the way, I got accepted as a helper in a nursery in Kyoto,” you mutter, gaze avoiding his own. “they're expecting me to start work right after spring break.”
Spring break?
Holy shit. It hit him like a truck. That’s barely a week and a half from now.
“Spring break? Why so soon?”
“That’s when the students file back in,” you mumble, fiddling with the watch placed around your wrist. You pause to read the time, then turn to meet his eyes. “I’m leaving in four days to get settled.”
“Oh…” His breath caught, “Train?”
What a stupid question. He knows. Satoru has never been unintelligent, especially in conversing. But now his unintelligence shines through as if it’s his only trait. He’s glad you don’t question it.
“Yeah, I have no other form of transport really.”
“Well, uh…” He hates himself. He hates himself for not doing anything. He hates himself for being so weak and  cowardly, for being unable to keep his friends around him, for shutting everyone he holds close out. But now, he especially hates himself for being unable to feel happy for you, or to congratulate you on the opportunity, “come visit us every once in a while, yeah?”
Your mouth remains shut, only staring at the tall man before your eyes. The silence stretches between the two of you once again, and you don’t find it in you to speak of how you feel.
“You.. you know you could have died, right? We all could have b-but you…” You trail off, thoughts splattered like a spilled pot of ink. Although you seemed unfazed, in your mind you were anything but. Haibara, Riko, and all the losses that trailed and every event that followed has been stressful and nerve-wrecking. And even in the quietness and silence of the general atmosphere, it has been nearly impossible to find peace within yourself.
“Well, I didn’t. What happened had passed. Can you change that? I doubt so. No point in ‘if’ and ‘could’ve’.”
Before you could respond,the lights flickered back on. You grow unsure if you’ve struck a nerve, but that wasn’t what you meant. Gojo’s response had nothing to do with what you said, you were sure he knew exactly what your words were meant for. Why is he so scared of confronting it?
You don’t know. You could never hope to know because you and Gojo Satoru live in different worlds, the man who was only Satoru some time ago. You were worlds apart, yet  Satoru loved to play pretend that he lived in the same world as you, even when he stuck out like a sore thumb. But he was no longer. Ever since Geto left… it’s safe to say everyone has been changing slowly, deforming from their previous lives and personalities. But Satoru flipped, like the head and tail of a coin, he got himself a new face. He turned into Gojo Satoru; the strongest. A soul unalive. A broken boy in an ever growing body. A stranger.
Two days later you find yourself still roaming the campus , searching so desperately for something. Anything. A reason to stay, perhaps? You don’t find it anyway. You have no attachment as this place holds nothing but misery. Or that’s what you told yourself over and over as you packed your things.
Your steps were graceful, walking so cautiously as if careful to not wake someone up. Your fingers find rest on the old, dusty door frame, pushing yourself into the room that hadn’t been used for a good month or so. The classroom looked the same as it always did. Except for the shadow that loomed over it; a gray shade that sent chills down your spine. Or maybe it’s just your imagination. 
Then you spot something rather out of place. You’re sure you’ve never seen it before and although you know it’s none of your business, the way it tugs at the strings of your curiosity is undeniable.
It’s red, poking out of what you’re sure is Gojo’s desk. The gloomy classroom was no fit for paper with a color so vibrant. 
Your heart skips a beat when you glimpse the seat next to Satoru’s. You do your best to avoid looking at Geto’s desk any further. You busy yourself with the task at hand, reaching out for the mysterious paper hidden in the wooden desk. Shivers run up your arm at the texture of the scrunched paper.
You attempt to straighten it to your best ability, strained by his hard work of crumbling it with obvious frustration. you can barely make out the letters of your name in the middle of the paper, outlined by a messy circle. How Gojo of him. A few lines stick out of the ‘circle’, one of them has the name of a steakhouse somewhere in Tokyo. Another has a date, reading somewhere along February. It’s near impossible to make out what the small combination of letters say, especially when Satoru’s handwriting is closer to symbols than a comprehensible language.
The thought of it was so funny it didn’t feel like him at all. Satoru never planned anything. Every breath he took was based on pure impulse. Never would it have occurred to you that he thinks through things, let alone brainstorm.
The thought makes you smile. But the realization that he never asked you out because he changed his mind or everything that happened getting in his way makes your stomach churn unpleasantly. 
You decide it’s probably for the best to never bring it up. It would only make matters worse for both of you. Life ran its course; who are you to try and change it?
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“I apologize, but my answer remains. I refuse to take part in this,” you spoke in an even tone. “I have a job and a life away from jujutsu. I’ve made it clear sorcery is not a part of my life anymore.”
"That’s completely understandable,” the old man argued, his voice hoarse with age. You’re pretty sure you hear anger further straining his voice, “but your technique is quite strong. That strength could be of great assistance if put to use.”
“Thank you, sir,” you dip your head, maintaining eye contact with the decaying man. “But I truly apologize. The decision is final.”
“If you ever do change your mind, please let us know. We’d be more than happy to hear it.”
You almost let a sigh of relief escape. Finally he gave up. You end up only nodding your head in response gratefully, retreating from the old man. As soon as you're safe and out of sight, you let your posture drop, eyes rolling back in annoyance. These guys are truly as relentless as ever.
You stopped upon a familiar scent catching in your nostrils. Lifting your head up, your eyes roam around, scanning the room for your friend.
“You look troubled,” Shoko approaches you, taking the cigarette out from between her teeth. “What’s with the face?”
“How is that man even alive,” you look at her, “he’s ancient.”
Your comment earns a light chuckle from the brunette. “I’m glad I never have to get caught up in this bullshit.”
“Blissed aren’t you,” you roll your eyes as you speak. “I shouldn’t have come in the first place, I knew they were going to do this.”
“It’s alright, you’re all done now. Here-” Your friend then lifts the cigarette up, putting it near your mouth. When you don’t show any resistance she, being the bad influence she has always been, proceeds to place it between your lips. You waste no time, making quick work of the drag you inhale, bringing the familiar cloud of toxic chemicals and tobacco into your lungs. Your expression relaxes, shifting into one of relief. Shoko scoffs playfully, muttering that you’re dramatic under her breath before she pulls her cigarette from you, taking in a drag.
“Satoru’s here, by the way,” Shoko didn’t need to look at you to guess the way your eyes snap towards her. She bites back a smile. “He’s calmed down. He’d even seem the same as long as you don’t squint too hard.”
“Good for him,” you mutter, trying to seem as unbothered and nonchalant as your accelerating heart rate would allow. You avoid looking at Shoko, trying to seem disinterested. You know she’d pretend you weren’t gawking at her the second she said his name.
“He’s trying, you know. He’s just as nervous as you are.”
“‘M not nervous,” you scoff, “For god’s sake. It’s been ten years already.”
Satoru is stressed. He's nervous, as Shoko put it. He’d spent so long trying to ignore the past, pretend the past wasn’t at all. He couldn’t confront it. He didn’t want to. Satoru knows what he’s done, he's aware that he hurt you the last time you two had interacted. And that was ten years ago. He even let you leave without so much as a goodbye. How could he look you in the eye and pretend nothing has ever happened?
Gojo didn’t want to face the consequences of what he’s done. More so what he hasn’t. So many things were left unsaid in the elevator that day. They’ve been hanging over Satoru ever since, weighing his heart down and wearing it out.
What if he’s met by another woman? Ten years change a lot as is. What if the eyes that meet his aren’t yours? What if he finds himself talking to a stranger that carries around your name and features? Of all the horrors Gojo Satoru had faced in his life, nothing caused dread to pool in the pit of his stomach like this thought does.
Shoko seems to find something beyond you interesting. You don’t bother to turn to see as the brunette has always been a little in her own head. She’s probably just dozed off.
“Hey, think you can hold this for me?” Shoko muttered once Gojo crossed her sight. She stands facing you, averting his gaze. “I’ll be right back, nature’s calling.”
From his distance, Gojo couldn’t make out what the two of you were saying. He watched as your shoulders shook, presumably in laughter. Shoko then made her away from you, barely sparing Satoru a glance.
Every step he took felt heavy, weights landing on his shoulders as he moved towards you. He watched smoke emerge from over your head. He didn’t know you smoked. And even though he’s not completely sure what you do for a living now, he’s not expecting any nursery to accept a smoker in their team.
His long strides finally arrived, opting to remain a step behind you. Close enough to make his presence known.
The aura was unmistakable, almost as if it could be physically sensed. You freeze in place, the cigarette remaining a few inches from your lips. Even after he changed his perfume to one a lot more manly and appealing, and clearly grew taller judging by the shadow he cast over you, his presence still had the same strength as it did before. If not stronger. Anyone else would say it’s intimidating. But you find surprising comfort in it.
“That’s going to kill you,” his hand  reached from over your head, making sure to not cause any unnecessary physical contact. His fingers slip the burning cigarette  from your grip. You find yourself unable to make a single move in response, only watching his actions unfold.
He took a step, moving closer, dimming the light from the roll by rubbing it against the metal bars, then throwing it off the balcony. “You’re too young to kill yourself like that.”
“That bitch Shoko set me up,” You hiss, regaining your composure. “Will you look who showed up. You’re killing the ecosystem by throwing waste like this, Gojo.”
Although you haven’t glanced his way yet, You were every bit sure his mouth was quirked in the same smug smirk he wore so much when you were younger. You could even hear it in his voice as he spoke, “You haven’t grown at all, have you?”
“Oh shut it,” you chuckle. “You’re still as immature as ever. How you could be a manchild at 27 is a wonder to me.”
27… It felt so weird to say it out loud. Weren’t you just 17 a few days ago?
“Oh, how you hurt me,” he says in exaggeration, his voice conveying anything but the hurt he claims to feel. “That isn’t very nice of you.”
“That’s rich coming from you,” You say. He laughs a little, you do too. But the silence that follows is not that of a joke. He knew what you’re referring to. Maybe he underestimated your last encounter’s effect on you.
The silence speaks for itself. It’s louder than any conversation you’ve had before. What now? What have we become? Is it of any use to try anymore? Neither of you had an answer to the question that began to surface with this interaction.
The questions remain hung in the air, dimming the atmosphere around you. Was this fate’s doing? Or his karma? Gojo has always been told he’s a god, but how could he be a higher form of life when he struggled so much to hold a conversation?
He’s about to speak again when you cut him off, muttering “here-” as you push your hand down the coat you wore. Your tongue pokes at the inside of your cheek as you search for the anonymous object.
You pull out a worn out paper, grown from what could have been a bright red to an orangish shade. His eyes study as you shove the paper in his  direction, eyes avoiding his gaze at all costs.
Seeing your bashful expression made him rather curious, the contents of the wrinkled paper piquing his interest. He hesitates before he pulls the paper from your hand, half-expecting you to bite him.
The letters were scribbles, almost like they’re straight out of some cult’s ritual,  that with the wrinkles of the worn out paper making reading it next to impossible. Still, he could make out just enough to realize what this paper is. His eyes widened behind the blindfold. It didn’t take much to remember this paper, trivial as it may be.
“You found this- how did you even…?” he trails off, confused.
“I guess I did,” You confirm. He’s unsure if you’re proud of yourself for your rather… interesting discovery. It’s bold of you to pull this out ten whole years later. But he can’t deny the relief he feels that at least this means you don’t completely hate him. For once, he’s truly at loss for words. 
But he wouldn’t let a perfect opportunity like this slide.
“Oh, so you’re in love with me? You’re so obsessed with me that you kept this for so many years, what a loyal fangirl.”
Before he knew it, a weight so crushing landed on his foot. He turned off his infinity around you as a sign of trust. But he soon came to regret his rather unsmart decision. Your foot stomped and crushed his toes. It makes him groan in pain, bending slightly forward.
“Tomorrow, at Narisawa in Minato city, 5:30. I’m leaving for Kyoto in 3 days. Don’t waste your chance again, Gojo Satoru. You’re not getting another one.”
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“I take it you’ve been in love with me ever since?” He leans forward, elbows on the table. “Say, did you fascinate about me?”
“Hmm..” you hum softly at his childish question, “only a little.” You show no signs of interest in his tactics as you sipped the wine in your hand. Undeniably, Gojo is taken aback by your lack of reaction. He hasn’t known you to be so reserved and smart at keeping him on edge. He couldn’t help finding your new behavior enticing.
Is there anything else you’d like to have?” You nodded your head towards the plates sitting on the table, some empty and some half-full. “Or do you wanna do something else before I go back to the hotel?”
“Hmm? Maybe I could join you at the hotel, actually. Surely it’ll be a lot less lonely with me around?”
You’re tempted by his offer, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach. He looked strikingly handsome today. Maybe you were just really lonely and touch starved, or maybe it’s the way his lips quirk as he teases you that makes your brain a little hazy, inappropriate thoughts floating through it and send jolts to your core. Yet, you set your mind on refusing his advances. You haven’t had a decent conversation since high school, for god's sake.
He keeps his eyes set on you, shining before him. You looked glamorous. He’d lie if he said there wasn’t a certain allure to  your matured looks. The years that flew by changed a lot of things about you two, but his breath still catches in his throat when your eyes meet his dreamy blues. The feelings rush back, memories clouding his train of thought. 
He’s sure he’s going to pay. He didn’t mind it at all, what a small price for getting to spend an evening with you. But you surprise him when you bring up that you had already put your card down, courtesy of having been the one to ask him out. Or maybe this was your way of telling him that you are in pretty good condition, living perfectly well without needing sorcery.
“How’s working as a jujutsu teacher?” you quip, smiling softly. “Utahime says you’ve got some interesting kids in your pack? Two special grades, too. You’re sure a favorite attraction for wonders.”
“You’re still in contact with her too?” he dodges talking about his students, not meeting your gaze. “That’s ironic. Weren’t we friends too?”
A hoarse chuckle emerges from him. But nothing about it leads back to amusement, as it was a joyless sound devoid of life. Almost as if he were mocking you. The dark lenses of the shades sitting on the bridge of his nose served as a shield. He curses himself for being so weak. He's almost thirty but somehow you’ve got him acting like he did when he was 17. 
“You didn’t try to contact me either,” you shrug, not willing to take the blame for your lack of contact. 
“You could have visited then. Even Yaga talked about you every once in a while,” he isn’t too happy and it’s showing.
“All good things, I hope-“
“Don’t change the subject,” he frowns, an uneasy edge outlining his words. “He was enough. You didn’t have to go ahead and leave too.”
“I had to move on, Gojo,” the name felt like a jab every time you used it. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. This is how you drew your boundaries. Calling them by their last names gives you a false sense of satisfaction, convincing yourself that your sorcerer friends are past figures now. Mere acquaintances. 
“-I couldn’t remain hung there forever, I valued my mental health. You grew distant, the atmosphere was growing uneasy every day. I had to cut ties with Jujutsu before I couldn’t recognize myself anymore.”
“Yet you’re here now. Back to square one,” his playful tone was long gone, now replaced by an even, stern one. “Whether you moved away or called us by our last names. It’s a curse you can’t escape. you’ll always end up back in the palms or jujutsu.”
His words held some truth. You know that. But just as he refused to confront this past, you repulsed the idea of your reality. You truly want to believe that you could escape this part of yourself and live a normal life. You couldn’t come to terms with your inability. You held onto your hopes as if your sanity completely depended on it. Another thing that won’t change no matter how much you grew.
“I'll be okay as long as I refuse to interact with this world.”
Once you leave the restaurant, you find yourself wandering through the rich streets of Minato city. It felt as though the night was pulling you further into its welcoming embrace, with nothing rushing you.
“He was only thirteen,” you chuckle, arm linked in his. “It’s unbelievable how bold kids nowadays are.”
“I would’ve done the same thing, honestly,” he smirks, his gaze fixed on the stores around.
“Of course. You’ve got the brains of a thirteen year old.”
Satoru grins at your remark, pulling you into a clothes store. 
“What’s this?” you look around in confusion, noting a woman in a suit welcoming you. The place looked a little too fancy, judging by the display of the items and the lighting of the place.
“It’s a western brand,” Satoru answers. Looking over at him, you can’t help but smile a little. He looks good tonight. His fancy outfit gave the impression that he’s a model to strangers. “Louis Vuitton, I think,” He furrows his brows, trying to remember the name of the brand stores he’s been to with Nobara and Shoko.
“Prada, sir,” The lady in a suit corrected him. “Can I help you?”
“We’re just browsing, thank you.” It’s a phrase he heard from Kugisaki countless times whenever they wandered into a store. His response makes you chuckle, watching as the lady takes a few steps backwards politely.
You’re soon comfortable, searching through the expensive coats and bags. Satoru watched tenderly. Even though the ten years that passed with no contact whatsoever definitely propose a wall between you, he's glad you're able to feel free. You might nit on the same page, but you two can work with what you have.
You stride back to the “S” shaped velvet couch sat in the middle of the checker-carpet store, where Satoru sat. But he was nowhere to be seen.
You walk around in hesitance and confusion, completely aware of the lady walking always a few feet behind you. Surveillance, you guess.
You find him standing in front of the white counter, taking a black bag with the brand’s name printed onto it in golden letters from the man standing behind the counter in a white shirt with the brand's logo on it.
“Gojo,” you call him, confusion fused into your expression.
He extends his arm to you, trying to suppress any sourness at you calling him Gojo. “Let’s go?”
You nod, eyeing him suspiciously before you link your arm in his. You make sure to flash a grateful smile at the woman by the door as you walk past the reflective glass door.
You almost forgot how busy the world outside is. It felt as though the glass building of the store was sound proof. Now you have to adjust to the noise of the full streets again.
Satoru remains silent for the most part. It’s not awkward, rather just neither of you knew what to say. He expected you to ask about what he bought, which you have considered. You decide against it though as you feel it’s none of your business. You’re not too surprised anyway as Gojo has always been a wealthy man. He could buy the entire Prada chain with half of his monthly spending.
“What do you wanna do now?” He asks. “Wanna go somewhere else?”
You think about going to the club to give the night the best closure. But neither of you were dressed for it anyway. You contemplate your choices. Then you grin at him, and Satoru knows it’s best to fear what comes after
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You’re well aware that he has a high alcohol tolerance. While you would be wasted a few shots in. Yet you consumed so many drinks recklessly, thinking that maybe you could beat him in a drinking game.
That’s why he’s stuck to your side now, helping your sleeping body out of his car. Satoru is glad your hotel card was so easy to find in your purse, taking it out as he gets into the lobby.
A few people eye the man, glaring at him and at the way he held you in his arms. But he couldn’t bring himself to think too much about it. His mission is to get you to bed now.
“Satoruuu~” You whine, rubbing your face into the pillow once he sat you on the white bedding. “Stay with meeee”
And Satoru is nothing if not human. Despite what everyone else says. It’s proven now that he had come to face a human flaw like this. He is weak, and you are all but practically seducing him.
“Stop crying,” He mutters. He finds himself smiling sheepishly at the unlikely scenario he found himself in. Tucking you in bed, your face hot due to the drinks you had. He really should have stopped you. “I’ll stay the night, so sleep already.”
He convinced himself it’s for the best. He should watch over you for tonight. No funny business. Deep inside he knew he was just finding a reason— any reason to stay around you for a little longer, heart yearning for the lost years. But he ignored the pathetic feeling, convincing himself it’s for your sake instead.
“But I’m uncomfortableee,” you whine again, hands running down your body. “The dress...”
Did you have to make it so hard on him? Satoru is tempted to kiss you, eyebrows knitted in the space between, eyes looking around the room for any sort of aid.
This is probably a form of invading your privacy, but he sees no other choice. He’ll have to hold it together for tonight.
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“nngh..”
Your groan came with an impending headache. Your body moves against the rich covers of the bed, sunlight illuminating your physique.
He stopped in his tracks, feet bare against the gray carpet.
Your form is beautiful, one to compete with statues of goddesses. The rays of light complimented every inch of skin in all the right ways. Satoru had to physically shake his head to stop the flowing perverted thoughts in his head.
Your flinch when you catch him standing near the door, heart beating slightly faster. You thought that you’re alone. You don’t think much of it anyway, muttering a “holy shit” under your breath.
“Good morning,” he casually greets, brushing off the mutual shock, albeit for different reasons. “I made coffee, if you wanted some.”
“Oh... thank you,” you mutter, rubbing your eyes as you sit up straight. “Did you eat anything yet?”
“Not yet, no,”  he says, holding his overly sweet coffee in both palms. “Thought I’d wait until you woke up.”
“You’re a real sweetheart, Satoru,” you yawn. His name slipped past your lips before you could stop it. You busy yourself with stretching your arms. “What a doting housewife God has blessed me with”
His response is only a chuckle, rolling his eyes as he sighs on the edge of the bed. “Well, at least I wasn’t begging a man to spend the night with me”
“Huh?”
You couldn’t remember anything of the prior night. Nothing that occurred after you sat at the bar, specifically. But then you begin to realize, eyes widening at the revelation. You feel dreadfulness landing in the pit of your stomach a little too late. 
He’s shirtless, wearing only his suit pants. And even though you wouldn’t mind the sight any other day, the fact that you are in your pajamas isn’t helping at all.
“Did we...” You trail off, expression darkening. Your eyes meet his own, fear implanted in your pupils. You watch as his expression drifts from confusion to an awkward hesitance. Unsure how to break the news to you.
You don’t know what to expect, not realizing you’re holding your breath. 
“I-I’m sorry,” He sighs, gaze faltering as his eyes look away from you. Your eyes widen further, oxygen becoming hard to consume.
What have you done?
“But- don’t worry. You know I’m not some asshole...” if anything, he sounded chivalrous. “I-I’ll be accountable for my mistake. When do you want to hold the wedding?”
You gasp, face feeling hot. “You piece of shit-“ You groan as your foot reaches him, forcefully pushing him off the bed. “As if!”
He breaks into a fit of laughter, the sound full of genuine delight. “I can’t believe you fell for it,” He manages between the laughter.
“Fuck you, Satoru,” you mutter, a smile of relief breaking across your face. “I can’t believe you pulled something so childish.”
“Why are you so down?” He climbed back onto the bed, reclaiming his spot on the edge. “Are you disappointed? You know it’s never too late to just as-“
“Fuck off,” Your heart is pounding as you send him another kick, less forceful this time. “Say one more word about it and I’ll make sure you don’t make it out of this room in one piece.”
He laughs, asking you to pass his coffee. You reach for his coffee from the bedside table. Your fingers lift the glass mug to your lips, sipping at the hot beverage before handing it to him.
Your face scrunches up at the horrible taste. Too much sugar. Too much milk. It’s a lot worse than you might think.
“Your coffee should be criminal,” you push the mug his way, frowning. Satoru hums in response. 
There’s no awkwardness between the two of you, and he can’t help but cherish it. He feels content, enough to sit a little closer, at least.
Enough to lean in towards you, mouth closing over yours in an ever awaited kiss, at least.
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tinykonig · 1 year
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𝔠'𝔪𝔬𝔫, 𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔪𝔢
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könig has really pretty hands... you think he deserves to know {reader has a major hand kink- don't we all-, könig has a praise kink and is absolutely obsessed with reader. this is very obviously nsfw 18+ only please and thank you ~this will also be cross-posted to ao3} intentionally lower-case
he is just so intrinsically captivating- everything about him. you never stop noticing him.
the second he walked into base, your throat ran dry when you realized the sheer size of the man. he could swallow you whole. you wanted him to.
you don't wanna say you had ulterior motives when you befriended him- you truly like the guy. he's funny and extremely sweet, and hanging around könig had other benefits. no one dared to mess with you when he was around. the usual chatter of men hitting you up or questioning your position melted into peaceful quiet and the soft sound of könig's voice.
like right now.
"did you hear me?" his voice comes from the edge of your mattress where he has perched himself, undoing the laces on his boots.
you are sitting at the chair to your desk and watching his long, strong fingers work around the dark strings to loosen them from the complicated knots. his hood was flipped back over his helmet revealing his concerned expression
your head snaps up, "no, sorry, big guy. zoned out," you respond, and you hope to god it sounds casual.
"oh, okay." he says awkwardly, pausing his movements to look at your face- slightly rosy and pupils blown- but if he notices he doesn't say anything. "i said i got something for you while i was gone."
your face brightens and you grin at him, his expression quickly mimicking your newly excited one.
he reaches into a pocket on his vest and pulls out something small, then he encases it in his large fist and holds it out in your direction.
“i actually made it,” he clarifies, chuckling at you as you begin to make grabby hands towards him, like an excited child.
you have to hold back a gasp when both of his hands wrap around your much smaller ones. it felt like pure electricity surging from his palms straight to your core.
he drops the object in your open hand and draws away, suddenly looking shy again.
it’s a tiny wooden figurine of your favorite animal. incredibly detailed and tiny and you turn in over in your hands in awe. a lump takes root in the base of your throat. könig never fails to take you by surprise with his thoughtfulness.
“könig i love it,” you whisper, not quite trusting your voice not to break at a normal volume, “it’s so fucking cute.”
“you like it?” you can hear the smile in his voice as he fully takes off his helmet and hood and sets it on your nightstand. he must have worked on taking off his boots fully along with his tac vest because they are now sitting in a neat pile beside the foot of your bed, left now in only his long sleeve black shirt and combat pants. he is visibly more relaxed now as he leans against the headboard.
“of course i do. how did you even make it? its so detailed.”
you love the proud grin that adorns his face.
“i was on night watch. cut out a chunk of wood from the windowsill, and carved using one of my knives. it took like 8 hours.”
you find an empty space on your desk and set the figurine there, shaking your head in disbelief as you turn to look at könig again.
“i accidentally cut my finger when i was carving the eyes,” he said, holding out a hand to you and showing you a superficial nick on his ring finger.
you scoot your chair closer to the bed so you can take his hand into yours and examine the tiny cut. you pout up at him and coo, “awww~ poor baby,”
and then without thinking you raised the finger to your lips and press a soft kiss to the cut. könig’s eyes are open wide and his breathing picked up considerably.
“all better now, right?” you ask teasingly, gaining confidence based off his reaction.
you carded your fingers through his and wait for his response. he surrenders his other hand into your lap as well, almost like he was in a trance
“yes,” he answers breathily.
you hum in response, still toying with the hand you hold in your possession. his hands were warm, you trace some of the scars that litter on his knuckles.
“sorry,” you mumble out the apology, “your hands are just really pretty.” you feel a little embarrassed, but not enough to let go of his hands.
könig makes a noise like he was stifling a cough and shakes his head, “ don’t apologize.” it sounds like a plead, and he makes no moves to remove his hands from your possession.
you make eye contact and recognize the want that pools in his light eyes. you are sure he sees it mirrored in yours as well. it gives you the courage to continue on the precarious path you found yourself walking.
“very pretty hands,” you murmur, “and they are so big,” holding his hand up to yours to display the ridiculous difference in size. he groans ever so lightly, his eyes now hooded under your gaze.
you knew he would never make the first move. it had to be you, and it had to be now.
“i think about your hands a lot, könig.”
your confession hangs in the air like a raincloud before a storm. filled with the promise of something more.
“tell me,” he whimpers lightly, tightening his grip on your hands for the first time this entire time you were holding them.
this is gonna be fun, you thought, grinning while you maneuvered yourself to sit on top of his thighs. you see his adam’s apple bop as he gulps in surprise.
you are still toying with his hands when you glance up at his eyes, “i think about how they would feel when they touch me,” you whisper, knowing he could hear you. he is hanging on to every word.
“touch you…” he breathes in deep, “where?”
you bring his hands under your loose t-shirt and rest them on the bare skin of your waist, keeping your hands on top of his- like you were scared he would move if you didn’t.
“here, for starters,” you respond, and you laugh a little when he presses his fingers into your skin there harder.
“are you ticklish?” he asks, smiling softly.
“just a bit,” you say, moving your hands to bring your shirt up over your head and you throw it on the floor next to the bed, messily in contrast to his perfectly folded pile of gear.
he is trying not to stare, and he is failing miserably. his hands seem to move of their own accord as they trail up your body to your bra-covered breasts.
“mmm,” you hum contentedly, “yes, i think about them touching there too,” reaching up to gently rake your fingers through his slightly shaggy hair. “although im not usually wearing this when i imagine it.”
“can i take it off?” he asks, doe eyes looking to yours for explicit permission.
now you stroke his cheekbone, along a very faint and fading scar. you grant him a nod.
quicker than you expected, he was sliding the straps down your arms and the back was unhooked. you were suddenly feeling extremely exposed, given he was still fully dressed. you tug twice on the front of his own shirt and he pauses his movements on your body to reach for his own shirt.
his torso is so long and sculpted, littered with raised pink scars, a few deeper white ones too that had healed for longer. the freckles on his face continued down his chest and arms you note, extremely pleased with that fact. he was so, so pretty. you wonder if he knows.
while you admire him, he raises his hands back to your now bare breasts and softly cups them. his touch is so gentle, and you can see in his eyes an expression of pure awe and trust.
tentatively you arch into his touch, just to have him press into your skin more. he comes out of his trance and desperation starts to take over. he tweaks a nipple between his two fingers and you moan at the unexpectedness of the action.
“that feels good, könig,” you whimper out, and he does it again. it’s so lovely to see him gain confidence from your words and your reactions. you decide to test something else out, “thats my good boy.”
the reaction is immediate. one of his arms moves to hook around your middle and pull you fully flush to his hips. you gasp at the feeling of him hot and hard under your clothed center.
“can i put my mouth on you?” he asks, and his voice still sounds so innocent and unsure but theres a hint of need creeping in as well.
“you can do anything you want,” you answer, loosing all composure and control you previously had.
he keeps his one hand on your waist, the other playing with your nipple. he brings his mouth to the other one, and you throw your head back and groan at how warm and wet it feels. he gently rolls his tongue around the nipple, biting lightly every few seconds. you’ve never felt so close to cumming from nipple play before, but with könig? everything was heightened.
you grip his hair harder and pull his mouth off you, looking into his eyes and breathily saying, “i haven’t told you where i think about your hands being the most.”
he groans. it’s a sinfully wonderful little noise.
“please,” he chokes out, “please, please tell me,”
you conjure up all the confidence left in your body under his gaze, and stand up and unbutton your pants. his eyes are heavy on your body as you slide them down your legs, and it’s like he cant help himself when he reaches out and runs his hands up and down one of your thighs.
“so soft,” he says, in complete reverence.
you almost feel bad for him when you see how painfully hard he is in his pants. you wonder for a second if his hands were so big, how big could he be there, too…
before sitting back down in his lap, you reach for his own pants to let him know that you wanted those off as well. he obeys you so easily, so eagerly.
he almost looks like he’s been hypnotized when you take your seat back on his lap, less barriers separating you two now. you are sure he can feel how wet you are, its soaked through your thin panties.
he just whimpers, and waits. waiting for you to tell him, like he so kindly asked you to.
so you do.
you grab one of his hands again, and he watches intently as you bring two of his long, thick fingers into your mouth. his jaw goes slack as you slide your tongue over his digits, coating them with your saliva. he lightly thrusts up, like he can’t control himself but he’s trying.
you hum again and release his fingers from your mouth and guide them down to your heat hovering over his clothed dick.
when he slipped past the band of your panties, he broke free of his trance. feeling your wet, throbbing pussy broke something in him and he was on a mission to make you feel as good as he possibly can. he slid his fingers back and forth over your clit and drank in your moans as his kissed you for the first time.
you whisper praises against his mouth, telling him how good he was doing. “better than i could have ever imagined,” you manage to breath out as he strokes you towards your orgasm just by massaging your clit.
every word you said went straight to his core, and it was a need- an absolutely feral need- to feel you cum on his hand.
“inside me,” you moan out, “please, put them inside me.”
his chest and face are burning red with want, and you start to feel bad that you’re the only one being pleasured as he slips two fingers into your pussy. through a bubbling moan in your chest you manage to ask him, “can i touch you, too?”
he looks at you like you just gave him his own personal star from the sky, “god, please” he says, his accent growing even thicker in want.
you pull him out of his boxers and gasp. if you thought his hands were big- this was just unfair. his cock stands tall against his stomach, pale pink and leaking. he is the most beautiful man in your universe, and you tell him.
he moans at your words and bucks his hips into the air. having mercy on him you wrap your hand around him. he rewards you by stroking the spongy part inside you with his two fingers. you start to roll your hips into his hand, and that spurs him on even further.
“c’mon, use me,” he mutters into your ear, “use my hand to make yourself cum. please, i need it so bad.”
you were already embarrassingly close, and his desperate words brought your orgasm crashing over you. your hand strokes his harder and you vaguely register his free hand grabbing your throat to pull your forehead to rest against his as he cums all over your hand and his stomach. you ride out your release on his hand until you can’t take it anymore and stop your movements.
the only sound in the room is heavy breathing. you whine as he removes his hand from you, which makes him chuckle a little. you open your eyes to meet his and he looks so blissful.
you smile back at him tiredly, “later, i’ll have to tell you about how i think about your mouth,” and he laughs his regular, loud laugh that you love. he pulls you into his chest to lay down fully.
“yes, i think you should.” he agrees.
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livelaughlovesubs · 7 days
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Nini, Dan Heng imbibitor lunae with sensitive ears that get all red if you simply whisper into them hehe
Oh god yes, ugh, Dan heng is so cute like I want to go to Disney land with him (oddly specific but yea)
Dom!reader x sub!Dan heng (This is, sfw? It has a lot of teasing and… ehe)
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It was a coincidence that you found out Dan heng’s ears were a tad more sensitive in his dragon form. You always liked to sneak up at him and whisper into his ear from behind, like, “good morning~” or, “boo.” Just to see if he would be startled. This habit of yours didn’t change even when he’s taking another form.
Which is exactly what happened today. The boy was in his room, his bluish horns making him look taller than usual. It seems like he was studying this shape he doesn’t usually take. As you’d always do, you carefully got closer to him, hoping that he hasn’t noticed you yet and whispered, “what are you doing?” His shoulders tensed up and his ears twitched. This was a new response, even if you managed to shock him he’d always keep a serious look. Since he always had a cold demeanour so seeing him so expressive was something rare.
The male turned around with a flustered face, his long elves akin ears got redder. Or was it your imagination? No, you could swear they weren’t this red before. “Y/n, you again..” he sighed, finally calming down from the surprise. “That was a nice reaction, ah, are you blushing?” You remarked. Dan heng frowned a little at your words, “no, I’m not.” Suddenly you got closer again, it was too close for his preferences so he took a few steps back. Whenever he did that, you’d also take a few steps forward again to close the distance.
Until his back hit the wall, and you got him trapped between your arms. “This is not funny, y/n.” That’s what he said, but you were grinning as if you won the lottery. Maybe you did, this discovery, if it proves to be truth, would be worth more than any lottery. “I want to confirm something! Can I?” You asked him, to which he replied, “make it quick.”
Your hands cupped his face and let him rest his chin in the crook of your neck, his hands hold you tightly as if he was going to fall otherwise. After you took a deep breath, you blew some warm air against his ears. He instantly tensed up again, shoulders raised high up as to prevent you from touching that sensitive area. What an adorable thing, you couldn’t help but smile at him. Then you muttered as quietly as you could, “it seems your ears have gotten a little more sensitive? Do you like this, my dear?”
His heart was beating out of his chest. It was a feeling he didn’t even know existed that ran through his veins. He couldn’t pinpoint what he felt, but he knew it was making him turn into a mess. “I don’t know..” dan heng said, he doesn’t even know if he was being truthful with himself right now. Poor boy, he was so scared that you’d hear his heart, pounding inside his chest like he just ran a marathon. Before he could compose himself, you mumbled again, “won’t you answer me, pretty boy?”
That was the last straw, he felt his heart sink as soon as your voice echoed through his mind. The vibrations of your breath and voice tickled his ear, it was making him feel dizzy. So much, that his knees had gone weak. He couldn’t feel the strength in his fingertips anymore, and collapsed against you. How embarrassing this was, why was he getting so worked up over nothing? You only smiled at him, a gentle and soft expression on your face. It was a disguise though, it was hiding something much less innocent behind it. Your hands stopped cupping his face and instead wrapped around his waist, then you whispered again, “let’s see what else got more sensitive.”
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belokhvostikova · 7 months
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𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭, 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | Perhaps the karma gods of the world were just as perverted as Hawkins’ residential Freak, Eddie Munson, himself, as the perfect opportunity to lay his hands on you arose when you go searching for helpless students to tutor.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, brief mentions of religion, naivety, feelings of embarrassment, perversion, and explicit sexual content: fondling, minimal spanking, mentions of virginity, mentions of female masturbation, male masturbation, tiny praise kink, stuffed animal humping, clit rubbing, handjob, oral (both receiving), corruption kink, cum eating and dubcon (just precautionary).
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | I tried to be gross! Sorry it took so long. It's quite hard writing about a plotline that doesn't pertain to Eddie being mad at us for taking his picture and putting it in the yearbook (my series, you should read it). I'm trying to get into the groove of writing, so I apologize in advance if this is literal butt cheeks, I tried. Also, you will be getting an unwarranted history lesson.
𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.
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“…Man, I told Jeff that my mom would get pissed off if he left his beer cans in the garage, and he was all like, “Nah, dude, I promise I’ll pick ‘em up,” and he didn’t! Of course, he didn’t…”
In retrospect, tuning out the complaints of Gareth Emerson may not have been the smartest moves, as Corroded Coffin had just lost their only space to freely practice. You know, where they wouldn’t get dirty looks and threats of the police for public disturbance. And surely, as lead guitarist and singer of such an aspiring band, Eddie Munson would have been fully engrossed at the sudden mention of the deterrence into their path to wealth, fame, and glory… right? No. Because this is Eddie Munson we’re talking about here. And behind that domineering rockstar facade of leather jackets, clinking chains, gaudy jewelry, and a tight- tight pair of denim pants, yes, behind those pair of pants was a pulsating cock that was desperate to grow twice its softened size just two minutes and twenty-three seconds before he had to face Mrs. Wither’s biology class, all because Eddie Munson saw you.
Why- why on God’s green Earth would he ever choose to listen to the cracking voice of Gareth Emerson, when you were literally standing right across the hall, not even four yards away? The skirt. The fucking teeny tiny, baby pink, short skirt you decided to wear, the one Eddie was sure that if you bent forward even just a little bit, he would be flashed with the sexy crease of your fat ass cheeks meeting your doughy thighs, and he was desperate to be smothered by it. 
“…So yeah, we can’t practice at my house anymore.” Gareth lamented. That’s when he noticed the oh so obvious, blatantly clear, totally discernable trance of his friend, realizing his entire tangent just deliquesced into thin air with no acknowledgement whatsoever. Gareth slammed his locker shut. “You weren’t even listening to me!”
Eddie’s eyes finally shot away at the bleated tone of Gareth’s rightful attitude. “‘Scuse me? I totally was listening.” He hissed back, evidently not amused with the embarrassing fact that he was caught red-handed. 
“No, you weren’t.” Gareth groused, looking back to follow the ghost trail that once was Eddie’s distracted eye line, which is when he landed on you. “You were just checking out that girl.”
“That girl has a name, y’know?” Eddie retorted.
“That girl isn’t going to help us find a place to practice!” Gareth retaliated. “Stop looking for chicks to score, I’m serious.”
“Hey,” Eddie perked, as he stood straight, countering his friend, “y’know, she’s actually really smart and, like, super fucking funny-”
His friend could only incredulously scoff. “Oh, right, because you’ve totally had a conversation with her.”
“I-I’ve… stood next to her a-and have heard her talk to her friends.” Definitely not the riposte Eddie hoped to shoot out. The stuttering sure as hell didn’t help.
“Oh, so you’re a stalker.” Gareth nonchalantly derided, leaving Eddie to deadpan him. “Look, whatever, man, you can perv on girls all you want, but we have bigger issues at hand, dude. Where the hell are we supposed to practice?” Eddie’s chest ended up being victimized by the harsh poke of Gareth’s stern finger. And if he wasn’t so annoyed with his friend, he would have winced, because that actually kinda hurt a little. But just a little. Eddie’s ego wasn’t about to take a hit today. 
He rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Relax, alright? We’ll work our way around it.”
Truthfully, Eddie had no actual plans of working their way around it, in fact, it was quite a large issue he should have prioritized, but that could wait. Should it? No. But it would. Yes. Surely, staring at you was more of a fun game. He’d done that for the past two years he’d known of you, and he never got tired of it, I mean, how could he? One day—he always chalked up—he would get the balls to actually speak to you. You were always so nice, so sweet, skirting around the halls of Hawkins High that Eddie felt were too unworthy for your leisure, smiling and waving at any and everyone. Last Tuesday, the day you met his perverted eyes—oblivious to his hungry stares—and kindly threw him a beguiling smile as if it wasn’t the most dangerous weapon on Earth, was the day Eddie Munson skipped fourth period and jerked his aching cock in the dingy stall of the boys’ bathroom, before speeding home to fold his pillow in half and slide himself into the makeshift pussy just to fuck it with screwed shut eyes to invision the perfect image of you laying on your back with bouncing tits.
But unfortunately, that was just a dream Eddie Munson would have to deduce himself into every night, because the reality of you ever actually speaking to him was tragically low. Mostly because Eddie was scared he’d stutter and fuck up in front of you. It was embarrassingly shameful when it occurred in the comfort of his own bedroom, as he acted out what he would say to you in the mirror. You literally weren’t even there and he still tripped over his words!
But maybe the karma gods were finally aligning with his life, because he watched you happily place a “Need a Tutor?” sign on the bulletin board of the main hall, with little slips of your phone number ready to tear off and grab for anyone needing some “intimate one-on-one session time.” And, my god, was Eddie Munson anguished for that, so when the pink thumbtack stabbed your preciously designed poster into the cluttered corkboard, and you walked away with a innocent smile that was ready to help anyone in need, Eddie could hear an angel receiving its wings in the distance, as a harp played, and a choir harmonized heavenly, because his mind was stirring with the endless possibilities of raunchy and crude wet dreams. And Eddie was finally receiving a chance to dive into some pussy galore. Gross. 
“Oh, yeah, and how exactly do you plan on doing that? My drum kit can’t fit in your trailer, Grant’s grandma nearly had a heart attack the last time we practiced at his place, and Jeff’s mom still thinks it’s the “devil's music,” so what exactly is your plan here, hotshot?” Gareth scoffed.
“My plan?” Eddie chimed with a menacing smirk. “Oh, well I plan on getting tutored by my future wife.” He slyly leered, as he sauntered his away to your advertisement, Gareth following behind feeling beyond the definitions of vexation. 
“You’re actually insane, y’know that?” Gareth exhaled, as he watched Eddie eagerly tear off a slip and examine it with a prodding tongue through his lips. “This says for anyone needing a tutor in history.” Gareth pointed out. 
Eddie shrugged, as your number slipped into the back pocket of his jeans. “So?”
“You’re not even taking history!” Gareth stressed, as the bell rang to commence class. “What are you gonna do when you show up completely clueless?”
“Dude, she’s looking for idiots to tutor,” Eddie patted him on the shoulder, “she’s expecting cluelessness. And I am the perfect guy. Kay?” He triumphantly smiled. “Stop stressing, go to class. And don’t worry, I’ll send you an invitation to our wedding. Thinkin’ of making it BDSM theme.”
Gareth grimaced. 
Eddie Munson may not have caught onto the obvious insult he just hurled to himself, but that didn’t matter. Not when he had a call to make after school.
-
The ticking minutes of the afternoon couldn’t have passed by any slower, as Eddie managed to work up every excuse in the book to get his uncle, Wayne, to leave early for work: grab some lunch at Benny’s before hand, stop for some coffee at the local cafe, show up an hour early to impress the bosses—though, the bosses didn’t pay Wayne enough for him to feel the need to turn up before his scheduled shift—and soon the minutes turned into hours, and the sun would be setting soon. Eddie could feel you slipping through his grasp, as someone who probably actually needed a tutor was bound to call you before he could- or worse, some sick perv with the same bright idea as him would call you. Though Eddie Munson was adamant on the fact that none of the other guys who creeped on you could take care of you like he could.
Sure, the only experience he ever had was when the older bartender with bouncy hair offered to show the lead singer of Corroded Coffin a “special thank you,” which promptly led him to losing his virginity in the loathsome bathroom of the Hideout, which also led to a frantic eighteen-year-old Eddie anxiously running to the local health clinic for STDs testing when it dawned on him that he just had unprotected sex with a stranger during the dangerous minutes of post-nut clarity. But, Eddie Munson was still a hormonal teenager, and once the negative results cleared him from the nerve-wracking chlamydia or gonorrhea scare, he laid back and relished on the memory of having sex and, well, by the sounds of it—if his memory serves him right—she seemed to enjoy it, too. Granted, Eddie never engaged in any more of her efforts to try again because- well, he was left scarred, but all that is beyond the point. The point is Eddie Munson wanted to be the one to love on you, dote on you, make you feel so fucking good that you were programmatically addicted to him- to his cock. 
Oh, fuck, he’s hard already. 
But finally, as the clock struck six o’clock, his uncle waved him goodbye, and Eddie had ran through the numerous piles of clothes in the trailer—ones he promised to fold—and slammed into the wall phone to begin his endeavors. The crumpled slip of your phone number had been retrieved from his back pocket, and he skimmed the digits, letting his fingers dial as he read each number. It was nowhere near remotely possible, but Eddie Munson had even managed to find your phone number to be so sexy. Mm, so even and divisible. God, he was sick. But nonetheless, the phone rang and rang, and he was muttering the “c’mon, pick up, pick up” mantra to lead him one step closer to you. Communicating through a phone would surely ease his worries about potentially screwing up. He just had to take a deep breath and let the conversation flow itself. But, shit, it was ringing for far too long. You were probably already knees deep into some boring textbook with a helpless classmate, or getting flirted by Nathan Cavanugh, who Eddie once saw check you out; or you were probably cuddling up with Bryce Walters, who would always lean against your locker to sweet talk you during school; or, fuck, you could have already been getting handsy with Harrison Moran, who would always come up and hug you after a footba-
“Hello?” Oh, shit.
“Oh- I mean, uh, hi.” This wasn’t going to work. He was already slipping up. Eddie had never internally cringed so hard, his hand pragmatically slapped his forehead in disbelief, but his mouth just kept moving. “It’s, um, me.” Me?! How the fuck would you know who me is?!
“Oh, my god, hi, Eddie!” You perked with giddiness. What the fuck?
He stammered with confusion, “Wait… how’d you know it was me- like, me, Eddie?” 
“Duh, your voice, silly.” You giggled, as Eddie huffed a breathy chuckle, and leaned against the wall with a curling lip. Maybe this could work. 
“Oh, yeah? You recognize my voice, sweetie?” His lit into a teasing, sultry crisp that had you flustered on the other line. 
“Well, yeah. I mean, you’re always making quite the scene during lunch.” You delicately laughed into the receiver. “I guess it just kinda got stuck in my head, like, you know, when you hear a catchy song?”
Eddie sucked in a breath, as his hand played with the hem of his shirt to tease his sensitive naval with soft touches, and you could thoroughly hear the smirk of his grin oozing through his words. “Oh, really?” He teased rhetorically. “Yeah, no, I understand. I can happily say the same for you, sweetheart. Got such a pretty voice.”
“Oh,” you were clearly rattled, as his compliment hit you, “th-thank you, Eddie. You’re so nice.”
“Aw, well, actually, sweetheart, it’s you who’s so nice. Offering others your help with tutoring, just so sweet, aren’t ya, huh? It’s actually why I’m calling.” He smiled. “You wanna… help me out, princess?”
“Yes, I’d love to!” Your bubbly voice made it certain that you were ready to genuinely help him with his studies, and provide him with the needed lessons. It could almost make Eddie feel guilty. Almost. But his dick was thumping with eagerness, and he was containing all restraints to keep from pressing his bulge against the paneling of the wall to your sickly sweet voice, and thrusting his hips. That would be a new low. Even for him. “I’ve been waiting forever for someone to call, Eds, you don’t even understand. I was beginning to think nobody needed a tutor.” 
“Oh, no, sweet girl, I can assure you I desperately need a helping hand.” He sighed, as the rings on his finger began dancing around the protrusion of his pants, applying just a small amount of pressure. “And I’d fucking love yours.” Your innocent mind absolutely swooned at the opportunity to aid his learning, completely unbeknownst to Eddie’s perverted meaning.
“That’s great, I’d love to help you, Eddie.” You gushed, and Eddie’s teeth had to bite down onto his lip to uphold the self-control of being so desperate he was debating dry humping the wall. “Are you able to come over tonight?
“Oh, yeah, baby, I’ll definitely be coming tonight.” As soon as the call would end, Eddie Munson would drop to his knees and repent all the wrongdoings of his life, if it meant this actually working out for him. It’s doesn’t necessarily fall under the codes of Catholicism to exactly pray in front of the random “Bless this house, O Lord we pray, Make it safe by night and day” calendar with the hopes of finally having sex with his high school crush, but Eddie wasn’t exactly the type to carry around his own crucifix for an impromptu prayer, and he was truly just really fucking horny for you. And he was also smart enough to know his luck. If his life taught him anything, you would actually say that plans came up and you would be too busy to tutor him, and just like that, his opportunity would have disintegrated into dust. Now, while the possibility of that occurring was plausible, it genuinely should not have garnered him the idea to suddenly believe in divine interference and pray to a calendar that he’d get laid, but Eddie Munson did it anyway. Because you had him that fucking forlorn.  
“How does seven-thirty sound? You can come over then, does that work for you?” You were already planning the layout for your study session, when all Eddie could think about was caressing your figure.
“Absolutely.” He affirmed with a tight breath when his teeth bloodied his lip.
“Great, I’ll see you then, Eddie- oh, wait, before you go, do you like cookies? I can make us some as a snack.” God, you really were so fucking sweet.
“Shit,” Eddie mumbled under his breath, “cookies? Yeah, I like cookies, sweetheart. Can’t fucking wait to taste them.”
“Okay, good, I’ll gladly make you some!” You cheered with excitement. “I’ll see you soon!”
Attending high school for six years would surely be more than enough time to, I don’t know, memorize at least one thing about the many lessons Eddie had to endure—science, math, hell, even construction—but nothing cemented into his mind more clearly than the address you’d given him- the address he’d fuck you at… hopefully. God, he could already picture it so vividly. Your pink room of frills and silk. The room where you study. Where you sleep. Where you change. Where you lick your fingers and snake your hand under the lace of your panties to rub your pussy to the thought of being fucked- 
Oh, how the hell was he ever going to survive being in your house?
-
Eddie Munson had stared about the likes of your neighborhood for a good five minutes, finding the audacity to suddenly play undercover detective as a means of “scoping out the scene” to ensure the sanctity of his sexual endeavors. Perhaps the karma gods were desperate to get this twenty-year-old man laid—they had to be tired of the countless prayers for pussy that flooded their heavenly inbox—as Mrs. Winthrop, the forty-something-year-old lady of fancy tracksuits and shiny pearls who loved to patrol the regulations of the HOA, was, fortunately, accompanying her newlywed seventy-something-year-old husband at the City Hall’s Annual Fundraiser Banquet. Had she decided to not meddle into the world of small town aristocrats to weasel her way into her elderly husband’s will, she would have surely caught wind of Eddie Munson’s suspicious activity, and had your house flooded with flashing reds and blues as he sat in the backseat of a police car; hands in cuffs and boner in boxers. 
But Mrs. Winthrop hadn’t been home. And Eddie had deliberated the risk of a possible wandering neighbor catching a glimpse of his dubious acts, and taken it, because in doing so, he was met with the glory of an empty driveway to your home. Where a car—like the silver sedan he learned your mother drove to drop you off to school or the black truck he learned your father drove to pick you up from school—was typically parked had been abandoned to an emptiness, leaving the cemented path to your garage exposed. And peering just a little to the left, he would come face-to-face with the familiar fateful sentiment of that of an empty driveway: an empty curb.
Long gone were the risks of parental interference.
Eddie Munson was fucking you tonight. 
Your doorbell had diffused into quietness. Hidden behind the denim pockets of his jacket, his fists balled tightly, as his mind ran through the notions of how he would manifest this to occur. Worst case scenario, you’d reject his advances… possibly realize his agenda… might call him a freak… definitely a perv… probably slap him in the face, he would deserve it… you could tell the whole school… it would surely spread across town… then the torches and pitchforks would come out- yeah, okay, he should really stop overthinking right about now. But then there were the other thoughts. The thoughts- the debauched thoughts that filled his head of just you and your body completely at his mercy. Best case scenario, you’d fall into his arms… he’d shove his hot tongue down your throat- ooh, better yet, his cock… he’d certainly grope the fattiness of your ass… might tug on your nipples with his teeth… spit on your clit… fuck, then undoubtedly plunge his cock into your cunt until it was drowning in his sticky cum. There was only so much space behind the seam of his zipper before his growing dick would burst through.
The ten seconds of impending footsteps held no merit of preparation for Eddie Munson to secure the steady breath of cool, calm, and collected like he wanted to. He was supposed to up his bravado, put on that bad boy demeanor he knew to flaunt while strutting the streets of Hakwins, Indiana to ensure his character was never physically targeted by the clear disdain the town held for him. And it worked. Never once had it failed to be intimidating. In fact, that very intimidation that was going to be his reliable source of timidly scaring you tino pulling up the soft cotton of your top to flash him the bouncing volume of your boobs for him to pervertedly grab. If it had to get that far. 
But that was all too easy. 
And Eddie Munson hadn’t accounted for the fact that his breath would hitch at mere sight of you beaconing him into your humble home with a peachy “Hi, Eddie” and that sinful skirt that seemed to love your body just as much as he did from the way it clung to your dips and curves. 
“H-Hi, sweetness.” His lips hungry rolled against themselves, as his eyes raked your silhouette upon entering the foyer of your house. “I, uh, I didn’t see anyone in the driveway. C-Can I assume we’re, um, alone?” Eddie shyly smiled.
You were there to kindly answer. “Oh, yeah! My parents drove out of town to attend a familiar friend’s wedding.” See, this is where an attempt at a nice conversation could have occurred, had you not daintily secured your hands together behind your back with pristine posture. With your puffed chest, Eddie’s eyes had absentmindedly diverted to the now pebbling outline of your nipples that seemingly hardened from the draft Eddie had brought in. Heaven truly was a place on Earth- or whatever the hell that Belinda chick sang about. “I hope that’s alright.” You giggled.
“Huh…?”
“I mean, I’m definitely nowhere near as good a cook as my mom, but I made those cookies for you as a treat, and I hope you’ll like them.” You bit your lip. “But, um, if you’re still hungry, we can totally order something for dinner.”
Eddie didn’t know what was louder, the beating in his heart or his cock. Either way, it was blatantly obvious the effect you had on him, and his body was desperately lurching for yours. “Oh, yeah, no, uh, no worries. I-I, um- sorry, I’m just a bit… nervous.” He shied away with a teasing grin.
What more could be expected? Out of the kindness of your heart, your face contorted with concern. “Oh, please don’t be nervous!” You held a soft grip to his bicep, pulling him close. Hook. “I know it can be a little scary being tutored, but I promise you’re totally in control here.” And reel. “We’ll go at your pace. I’m here to help you, remember?” You’d be doting on him the whole night. 
If intimidation wasn’t going to get him to see your pussy tonight, maybe the kicked puppy act will.
A sickening smirk consumed his face, and his hand flew over his heart. “Aren’t you just the sweetest? Got the prettiest heart and face in this town, huh?”
Oh, and how that compliment had you flustering in his grace, looking away with a breaking smile of demure. Being tutored may not have been the most conventional way of getting laid, but the favor was working on his side, and Eddie was loving his ingenious idea of stealing your advertising slip. “I- well, um, thank you, Eddie.” You smiled, attempting to meet his eyes again. “You know, you’re really nice, too. I knew I shouldn’t have listened to Donna.”
“Donna?” That crank with a stick up her ass, who seemingly tried to control every little thing you did? That Donna?!
Now, say all you want about the morality of following around someone you love, but don’t misconstrued things here, Eddie Munson was not a stalker. Nope. Nuh-uh. Sure, he liked to linger around you, who wouldn’t? And, while, yes, oftentimes- no, all the times, you didn’t know of his presence, but still, it wasn’t stalking. He was just learning things about you. Yeah, learning things. Learning the make and model of your parents’ vehicles. Learning your class schedule in hopes of catching glimpses of you in the hallways. Learning about your favorite subjects and what you hated. Learning the acts that guys did that made your face scrunch up with disgust. And yes, learning about Donna fucking McIntyre, who did seem to catch on to his stalking presence- no, linger presence (totally not a stalker).
In the many instances Eddie stood close enough to eavesdrop on your conversations, he’d grown quite a distaste for Donna McIntyre. Actually, it’d do no justice to deduce his hatred as “distaste.” Eddie Munson fucking hated Donna McIntyre. Listening to her speak was like shoving a knife through his eardrum. He’d only endure it if it meant hearing your honey voice and learning more about you. This particular disdain for your close friend hadn’t appeared from thin air, no, Eddie Munson had complete reasons to hate the ginger; Donna McIntyre had sensibility. Where your naivety had you blissfully unaware of Eddie’s hungry stare, Donna McIntyre had caught onto every one of his perversions. Call it bias, he didn’t care, he hated her. In hindsight, your two year friendship with her had truly saved you from some compromising situations in which creepy men bestowed themselves upon you. Donna McIntyre was there to save you. Leave no girl behind. And you loved her for it. 
Eddie Munson, on the other hand, despised her for it.
A daily routine had manifested itself between the two rivals. One where Eddie would lovingly stare at your perched breasts spewing from your low-cut top, only to accidentally make eye contact with Donna during his spare seconds of eyeing you, being met with one of the most—rightfully—disgusted stares from her. He was left scoffing every time she grappled onto your elbow and pulled you away wherever you stepped within his vicinity. 
“Yeah.” You sorely pouted. “See, she’s, like, my best friend ever, but she always says the nastiest things about you.”
“Like what?” He questioned with squinted eyes. 
“Well, I don’t want to say the mean names she calls you, but she always mentions how I need to stay away from you; something about you being bad news.” You huffed. “I mean, literally before you came here, I called her all excited that I was finally tutoring someone tonight, because it looks really good on college applications, you know? But when I told her it was you, she completely lost it, saying you were just taking advantage of me.” Fucking divine interference?!
Eddie Munson had to give it to her. She may have been a pain in the ass, but Donna McIntyre was smart.
“Uh, well, y’know, princess, some people are just downright rude.” He dejectedly suspired. “People have been pickin’ on me since I was a child, y’know? Just because I’m different.” Maybe the bruised kid was taking it a little too far, but a special place in hell was already being dedicated to Eddie Munson, with a fiery plaque being engraved with the devil’s sharp talon, so did he care? No. Not when his sob story had you jumping to console him with a sympathizing hug, one where your tits squished against his chest, and he reveled in the feeling of your poking nipples brushing against his body. 
A more than content hum groaned out of Eddie’s mouth, as he wrapped you close, and inhaled a waft of your perfect smell. “I’m so sorry, Eds.” Your heart of gold oozed out with all sadness for him.
“It’s okay, baby-”
“No, it’s not.” You pulled back to pout at him. “People shouldn’t treat you like that. It’s mean. People shouldn’t be mean to you.” Eddie cooed, copying your protruding lips, and sighed happily at your word of action. “You have me as a friend now! And I promise that I’ll never be mean to you. I just want to be nice to you. All the time, be nice to you.”
There’s no way you couldn’t feel his boner pressing into your tummy. “Aw, precious, I’d really like that. You’ll be nice to me? Do anything for me? Make me feel good?”
The quickness to your fervent nod had a sickening grin formulating on Eddie’s expression. “Yes, of course! Always, that’s what friends do.” You smiled. In a flash, you acted on impulse and pressed your lips to his cheek, where your gloss had marked his skin and burned his body. Witnessing you shyly smile at him afterwards had his eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head. “I just wanna help you out.” You whispered.
“You can definitely help me, princess.” He spoke in hushed tones. “Y’know how you can help me?” His face gravitated to yours, target of interest aiming for your lips.
And you looked at him with those innocent, round eyes. “Tutoring you!” You beamed, like you just answered the million dollar question on a game show- well, not Eddie’s preferred game show.
“Oh,” he cleared his throat with a forced laugh to keep you smiling, “yes, of course, sweetheart, tutoring me. That’s the only reason I came here, anyway.” He internally perished. 
You squealed in excitement, jumping from the giddiness of being helpful. “Yay!” You beamed, forcing Eddie to follow suit, his faux enthusiasm compelling him to swallow thickly in order to constrain the blood back to his brain if he was going to sit through a tutoring lesson before seeing your ass in whatever baby pink thong he pictured you wearing. You laced your hand within his—being his only saving grace for enduring schoolwork after hours—and tugged him into the coziness of your living room. “So, are you taking American History or World History?”
“Uh…” Two years ago, Wayne Munson urged his nephew to exercise his newfound 26th Amendment Right to vote at the ripe age of eighteen for the 1984 Presidential Election. Granted, not so much newfound, given that Eddie was still falling off of monkey bars when protests about the monstrosity of what was going on Vietnam managed to lower the voting age; but nonetheless, Eddie had gotten severely tired of being bombarded by Reagan signs that infested every neighborhood street he drove past, enabling him to proudly wear Hawkins’ very own rendition of the ‘I Voted’ sticker. Though, the excitement was short lived, when the Munsons gruffed in disappointment watching Ronald Reagan win his reelection and haunt their lives for another four years to come. Eddie Munson didn’t know what the hell was going on with the world fifty years ago, but the CBS Morning News was raving about the wave of the conservative movement, talks of Gorbachev meeting Reagan was happening, something called the internet was kinda freaking him out, and Eddie Munson voted, so how’s that for American history for you? 
“American- yeah, yeah, American History.” 
“Perfect!” He followed your movements, and joined you on the couch, textbooks and cookies laid out in uniform perfection against the wood of your coffee table. Just for him. “With Mr. Conklin? Or Mendez?”
“Mendez.” At least, he did when he was still a junior and vandalizing the back desk with engravings of immature pornographic sketches. 
“Oh! Donna’s also in that class.” Eye fucking roll. “She told me about that killer quiz you guys had today. Said something about how none of the questions were on the study guide that Mr. Mendez gave to y’all.”
Eddie drawed out an exasperated sigh. “Yeah, yeah.” He lied right through his teeth. “I-It’s why I came to you, sweetheart! I completely flunked that quiz, and- well, then, you- you were just like this angel sent from heaven, offering your help.” He grinned watching you heat up from his heavy stare. “Just meant to be, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Your nerves flustered, as your teeth bit into your lip. “I’m happy to help you, Eds. Anytime you need.” You could feel his breath fanning across your cheeks. “Um, did you, uh, bring your books?” Actually getting a good look at him, Eddie hadn’t brought anything. At all. “Or, um, at least… some notes?”
A whistle of slow realization escaped Eddie’s mouth. “Uh… oh, y’know what happened? See, I was just spiraling from the quiz, a-and then I got so nervous for our tutoring lesson that, y’know, it just completely slipped my mind. I’m sorry, princess.”
“Oh, well, that’s okay.” A sweet reassurance came from your part. “We can just share my book.” You patted the distant space of cushion between you two, one which Eddie gladly took up.
And, my god, was he happy he did, because thighs touching thighs, scents mixing with scents, body pressed against body, and one look down, Eddie was exposed to the glory of low-cut shirts, and your tits presented themselves so beautifully to his eyesight. But a worn textbook weighing the size of a fat dog had slammed into his lap, and suddenly his eyes were tainted by the image of an old, white man who surely didn’t arouse him like the picture of your boobs.
“Great… Thomas Jefferson.” A tight-lipped smile concealed his dismay.
“Uh,” your shy giggle captivated his attention, “no, Eddie, that’s actually James Monroe.”
“Psh.” He puffed his cheeks, nonchalantly waving his hand in the air to brush off his blatant error of mistake. “Right. Totally knew that, sweetheart.”
“It’s okay if you didn’t.” You smiled. “I’m here to help you, remember?” 
“Mhm.” His arm circled around your shoulders, letting your rest back in the comfortable bliss of soft cushions and his presence. He hummed seeing you tuck within yourself, thighs pressing into one another, and he could only imagine what you were trying to relieve. Because Eddie Munson had made you feel things. The sweet tingles you would get when you were alone at night and had all the time to yourself. When you would visualize what it would be like to have a boy like you, enough to want to be your boyfriend, and what you two would get up to. Lacey Fisher, four weeks ago, returned from her weekend birthday trip, and confided in you on how her boyfriend, Henry Aronofsky, took her virginity. She detailed to your curious mind that it had hurt. The initial intrusion, it stung. But then he kept going. And it started to feel good. But what was even better was the closeness. His body on hers. His lips on hers. 
You craved that. And having Eddie’s domineering heat radiate on your skin had your pussy pulsating with a thumping tingle that you didn’t know what to do with. Eddie was cute. Cuter than Nathan Cavanugh, Bryce Walters, or Harrison Moran. Eddie Munson had an edge that made you question why your cotton underwear was becoming uncomfortably wet under his stare. How could Donna McIntyre not like him? He was scarily hot. 
“W-What,” You cleared your throat, “what, um, period are you guys on… in Mr. Mendez’s class?”
Shit. “Uh…”
“It was period four, no?” You opened the textbook on his lap, flipping the silk pages to thumb through the chapters. “Donna had mentioned it, said she wanted me to help her study this weekend.”
Thank god for Donna McIntyre’s big ass mouth. Even if it did shit-talk him. “Yeah, yeah, period four, mhm.”
“Okay, so lucky for you, we will be talking about Thomas Jefferson today.” You chuckled. “Period four spans from 1800 to 1848, which will cover different aspects like the developmental growth of political parties as a result from the expansion of suffrage, and definitive aspects of American culture expounded by the Era of Good Feelings…”
Fuck me.
-
Eddie Munson sat through forty-seven minutes of the Jeffersonian Era, listening of the profoundness of the Revolution of 1800s, and America’s god given right to expansion and the manifest destiny- or whatever bullshit propaganda that damn textbook pounded out to high schoolers just to get to some pussy. But if the United States could gain the delusional superiority complex to conquer and prosper on westward, Eddie Munson could do the same- well, on you. This was just one obstacle. One hurdle. One step closer to obtaining his holy grail of getting his dream girl. Shoving a dozen of the triple chocolate chunk cookies you’d baked him was enough to get him through the painful lecture of the demise of the Federalist Party, though, the events of the Mexican-American War was interesting enough to get him into cheering on Mexican troops over Texan volunteers during the Battle of the Alamo, but enough was enough.
“…With the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, the U.S was able to gain the southwest territory, which would include New Mexico, Utah, Nevada, and California, but Mr. Mendez likes specifics, so also be sure to remember we gained the majority of Arizona and Colorado, which bled into parts of Kansas, Wyoming, and Oklahoma.” You huffed in one breath. “Oh! And recall the Monroe Doctrine! Given that we had now warned European countries of the potential threats that would happen if they continued to colonize the western hemisphere, the American win over Mexico had further cemented the U.S as growing world power, which gets into the promotion of democracy and isolationism, which we can get into next-”
“Okay, sweetheart, stop right there.” Eddie scrunched his eyes in agony, cutting you off from proffering anymore mush that was stirring in his already confused brain. “Sorry, uh- sorry, but, like, can we take a break?” He sighed.
“Oh.” Embarrassment rushed to your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, sometimes I can get too much into things, we can totally take a break or, um, call it a day if you’d like-”
“No, no, no, no.” He adamantly interjected, closing the textbook with crumpled notes of his compulsory—upon your request—chicken scratch handwriting, brandishing it away next to the crumb-filled platter that once was delicious baked goods. “No, baby, trust me, I don’t want the night to end.” He delicately nudged your chin with his finger, a teasing smile to pair. “I just got a little headache, s’all.”
“Well, are you sure you don’t want to leave to get some rest?” Your brows molded with concern. “We can pick this up tomorrow, or whenever you’re free.”
Eddie Munson played into his bluster of confidence, leaning in close to run a rough-tipped finger down the dough of your thigh, letting your skin wake and react to his heated touch. “What if I wanna rest here with you?” He whispered. “Have you take care of me?”
You gulped. “Um, l-like what?” You nervously giggled. “I can, like, make you soup for-for your headache.” 
“Well, I was thinking more like we can lay down.” He pouted to emphasize his pained facade. “Will you take care of me in bed, baby?”
You licked your lips timidly. “Um, I-I don’t really know if that’s, like, a-appropriate for, um, study sessions. Like, I don’t want you to think I brought you here under the guise of doing… stuff.”
“You can say it, princess.” He smiled. “Say it. You didn’t bring me here to have sex.”
Hearing Eddie’s sultry voice whisper the word had sparked up the special tingles nestled between your thighs, and he could see the sensation consuming your being. “Um, y-yeah. I didn’t bring you here to h-have sex.” Heart racing, you could barely gain the courage to force your eyes upon him. “That’s what, um, Harrison thought when I offered to tutor him.”
“Aw, no, I know, pretty girl.” He cooed, as he firm hand squeezed down on your thigh, pressing the hem of your skirt high. Your sunken teeth had become your only extenuative from letting out a squeal from the jolting sensation. “God, those morons are just dicks. Don’t appreciate how good of a tutor you are. How much of a good girl you are. Right, baby? You’re just such a good girl looking to help, huh?”
You nodded to confirm his sentiment. “Yes, Eddie.”
His hand creeped to separate yours, where they stayed tightly clasped within one another, and he rubbed his fingers against the softness of your warm palm, before confining your hand with his. “Why don’t we go to your room to just relax for a bit, sweetheart? You smell so good, bet your room smells just like you. I love it so much.” 
“Uh…”
“It’ll make me feel so much better, princess.” He cajoled. “C’mon, that’s what friends do, right? You said it yourself, sweetheart.” 
“And then we’ll study again?” You eyed him with a twinkle in your eyes. 
“Man, you really like history, huh?” He teased with a chuckle. 
“Of course!” You happily answered, which had him smiling at your enthused face that glowed giddily. “Why wouldn’t I like something I’m good at?” Spoken with all the confidence. 
Eddie softly laughed in admiration. “You’re so cute.” He gave your thigh another tender squeeze. “Why don’t we do this: you make me feel good, like friends do, and I promise to make you feel extra good?” He stuck out a promising pinky, as he watched you consider his all too innocent proposition. “I’ll make you feel so good, precious.” He whispered. 
“Just relaxing? A small break?”
“Mhm.” He smirked. Fairly ambiguous; not necessarily a lie if not clearly verbalized. But just enough to get you alone in your bedroom. Pinky promised. 
Hands held together, you guided Eddie Munson through the halls of your house to reach your beloved bedroom, where secrecy and intimacy laid between the silks and cottons of your sheets. Each step had Eddie’s dick thumping with excitement, just as anticipated as his heartbeat racing out of his chest. You had never had a boy in your room. In fact, this would have to go untold to the authority of your mother and father, too archaic to understand the innocence of it all. Because that’s all it was. Right? Helping a friend in need to aid him to recovery. Headaches can be killer. Mrs. Weber's fourth period chemistry class often had you succumbed with migraines. Science wasn’t like history. As how Eddie Munson wasn’t like Harrison Moran. He wouldn’t do you as the star quarterback tried with you. Because Eddie Munson was different. Nothing like Donna McIntyre tried to get you to believe. He was different. Right?
“We can just relax here for a bit.” You spoke, as you both entered the confines of your room.
The essence of your own personal girlhood defined the sacred space of your room. Where clean, white walls brightened the mood, personal pictures and feminine posters had livened it up. Sweetness had invaded Eddie’s nose, as he was surely met with the arousing smell of your perfume, predicted to the exact notion. Gold jewelry, the one that complemented your skin beautifully, where dainty necklaces would become suffocated in the valley of your tits, where shiny earrings would decorate your earlobes that Eddie wanted to mouth on, had displayed themselves neatly amongst the products of beauty and self care. Pinks and silks, frills and lace, embodying your sweetness to a T. Effeminate in all aspects of nature.
And Eddie Munson was ready to defile everything. 
Unabashedly, Eddie had breached beyond the realms of a visitor’s right, and taken advantage of the whole ‘make yourself at home’ sentiment that you had actually never spoken; nonetheless, he’d marched his way to your comforting bed occupied by a number of stuffed animals that unfairly got the privilege of seeing you in your most intimate times. 
He splayed himself on the expanse of cushions, a groan leaving his mouth as he relished in the feeling of a bed that wasn’t stabbing of springs, starfishing the expanse that left you giggling on the sideline. “What’re you laughin’ at, you little punk?” He perked. 
“Don’t be mean.” You laughed, watching him grab onto one of the many companions that inhabited your bed. 
“Mm, I think I’m deserving of pokin’ a little fun at someone who owns like fifty stuffed animals.” He smirked, as he beckoned you with a curling finger. 
Given his limbs had almost entirely taken up the breadth of your bed, you were left to sit back on your heels, posture pristine as ever, with your hands neatly kept on the safety of your thighs. Such a sight for sore eyes. Brazen without a care, he hungrily eyed you top to bottom. Bitten lips to round boobs to soft waist to expanding hips. Your revealing skirt inching away and away, giving him a sneak peak to his next meal. 
But while his stares lingered on your body, yours had unintentionally followed suit. Laid flat, the apparent bulge beneath worn denim did not hold merit to the art of concealment, and a quiet gasp left your mouth as you scolded yourself for even peering at your newfound friend like that. “N-Not fifty.” You sternly stated with a smile to get your head straight. “Just four.”
“Still a lot.” He said, investigating the furriness of a chubby bumblebee, one where pink and white instead took over the naturally occurring black and yellow.
“Oh.” His comment had suddenly hit you in a way that made you shame with embarrassment. Unbeknownst to him, of course, he was still finding amusement in the flappy wings of the plushy insect. “Um, d-do you think it’s, like, childish? N-Not mature?” You scratched the back of your neck. Perhaps it was the attachment to the juvenile interest—referred to as by Montgomery Davis, a former love interest that didn’t last too long—that prohibited you from finding an adequate boy to be with.
He had chuckled at the fat stinger. There’s no way that could impale someone. But he had heard the apprehension in your voice, peering up from your stuffed animal to see your more than disappointed face. “Oh, no, baby, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” He quickly forwent Bugsbee the Bee to the side, as a calloused hand landed on your knee for reassurance. Sitting up, Eddie Munson overstepped the boundaries of a tutee to whisper his hot breath against your lips. “I fuckin’ love ‘em. So cute, babe. Just like you.”
“Really?” Your dough eyes scanned his face.
“Would I ever lie to you, sweetheart?” He pinched your cheek. “That’s just not what friends do.” He smiled, as he laid back down. “So, is that what you like to do for fun? Get stuffed animals?”
“Um, not necessarily.” You beamed. “I just like having them around, you know? Keep me company for the things I do like to do.”
“Like what, baby?” He squeezed your knee. “Tell me all that you like doing.”
“Well, let's see, oh, uh, I love journaling. Like, writing my feelings down.” He nodded along, prodding as encouragement for further information. “Uh, typically it started out just in the morning, like, when I wake up, I’d write about what I’d like to accomplish for the day. But then, I kinda realized it’d be nice to vent after a long day, so now, I really just do it whenever.” You shrugged. 
Boys didn’t care about this stuff, but Eddie Munson asked questions. “Yeah?" He grinned. “That sounds nice, baby. Feels like some therapy shit I need.” He chuckled. “Does it make you feel good to write about your feelings?”
“Yeah!” You happily answered. “Um, sometimes it's hard to talk about what I’m feeling to my friends. Like, Donna, for example; she’s got her whole life planned out, she’s so smart. If it’s hard for me to understand what I’m feeling, then I know Donna won’t. I’m scared she’ll judge me.”
“Donna’s a bitch.” He gruffed, with a groan of disdain. 
“No, don’t say that, that’s mean.” You chastised him. “She’s my friend, Eddie.”
“Right, right, sorry, baby.” He quickly made up for it. “It’s just hard to get along with her, s’all. But, uh, this journaling… what kinda feelings do you write about? Like, uh, I don’t know, private ones? You can tell me, honey.”
You nervously laughed, squirming in the seated position of being on your calves. “Y-Yeah, like, uh, well sometimes I worry that I won’t ever get, like, a real boyfriend. Like, a serious relationship. Not like whatever gross hookup the boys at our school want. I don’t want that.”
Eddie caressed the skin of your leg. “Totally, babe. Don’t waste your time with the little boys at our school. You need a real man, huh? Someone who’s gonna take care of their pretty girl.” He smirked, as you nodded in agreement.
Your heart lumped out of your chest, as you followed the languid movements of his large hand encapsulating your bent knee. His touch felt fiery against your skin, creating a series of goosebumps in his guided path, like a mark of territory. Your thighs, once again, clenched at his mercy. Seeing the prominent blue veins reveal themselves from under his alabaster skin had you striked with a familiar heated tingle. The tingles you’d have to satiate alone at night. “You think I can find someone like that?” You softly asked with all vulnerability. 
Eddie snaked his hand upward to gently hold one of yours. “Ugh, absolutely, princess, are you crazy? Sexiest and sweetest thing in the world, remember I told you? I meant it, baby. Sometimes you just gotta look right in front of you.” He smugly smiled. Your mouth went dry, as you attempted to ease your flustered smile. “Just like me, I need a princess to take care of.”
“Mhm, you deserve someone nice, Eddie.” 
“But, uh, I also need someone who’s not gonna judge me.” He perfected a pout that had you sympathizing at his feet. “Y’know, like I said before, some people are just so mean, wouldn’t understand me. Would you judge me, princess?”
“Oh, no! Never, Eddie! Solemnly, I understand the feeling, I’d never do that to you.” You preached with such vehemence, it had Eddie’s blood pooling to the length of his dick with a sickening smile eating his face. 
“So, you wouldn’t judge me if I told you what I like to do for fun, baby?” He played with your fingers, an act of innocence that had your heart soaring. 
“Nuh-uh.” You affirmed with a shake of your head. “You can tell me.” You delicately approached. 
“Well, sweetheart, I really really love touching myself.” He whispered, reveling in the sensation of your hand automatically squeezing his in a tightening hold, eyes rounding in surprise. “I do it all the time, sweetheart.”
“Oh.” Flustered beyond recognition, the single word had become the only thing trusted to speak, as his admission had ignited millions of sparkling tingles, letting a gush of wetness uncomfortably soak your precious underwear. 
He sneered with delight in power. “You’re not judgin’ me, are ya, baby?”
“No, no!” You rushed out. “I, uh- it’s totally n-normal… um, doing that. People- everyone does it.”
“Yeah?” He piqued with interest, watching you unfold into his ingenious trap. “You do it, too, princess?”
Your cheeks were invaded by hot blood, tainting your face with humiliation at the thought of giving up such intimate information. But he was your friend. You didn’t want him to feel judged. And lying was awful. Taught by the man, himself, Honest Abe. Great, and now history was being brought up again! It felt as if the devil had blown his burning breath to flame your face with embarrassment, but the devil was enticing, inching you to the darkside, where you’d be gifted with the persuasion of pure hedonism for the rest of your life. Eddie Munson was the devil. Materialized in the most euphoric way possible. 
You were wriggling, letting spiking friction torment your pussy under his glare. He was waiting. “Um, y-yeah, Eddie. I-I do it. Sometimes.”
An airy groan left his mouth, one he didn’t obscure, simply letting it out for you to witness. “Mm, I knew you would. Pretty girls like you love to touch themselves.” Holding his hand seemed to be the only form of comfort to enduring his gross words. You didn’t want to let go. “Love rubbing your pussy, don’t you baby?”
You didn’t like that word. But words deemed filthy by your definition only seemed to burn you coming from the mouth of Eddie Munson, himself. Harrison Moran once said he’d like to see your pussy. It made you scowl in disgust, and kick him out. But Eddie Munson had you enamored. 
“Yeah.” You whispered bluntly, feeling that his trust could leave you to softly speak with no repercussion. 
“Tell me, sweetheart, with your fingers?” He embraced your hand. “You play with your pussy with your fingers, put ‘em inside to fuck yourself?” Before you could reason, your head had taken the liberty to shake itself for you. No. Eddie’s brow lifted in confusion. Not to define you by the shyness of your nature, but you hadn’t necessarily struck the pervert, himself, as a user of sex toys. Well, at least, he hoped not. Something about introducing you to the world of vibrators and dildos made his cock jump with joy. “You don’t finger yourself? 
“Hands are too small.” You meekly answered, so lightly he could barely hear it.
“What do you do then, baby?”
Perhaps the alchemy of wizardry and spell casting from his beloved hobby of Dungeons and Dragons had magically manifested itself into his current reality—at the very least, it felt as though it had—as Eddie Munson’s words had you reeling in a sudden candid behavior too unfamiliar to your prospective nature. Not to say fibbery came as an innate trait for you, in fact, you honored yourself in the frankness of your words. 
But you had never acted on impulsion. 
And it felt as though Eddie’s provocative language had you destined at his mercy, forcing your body to act with no regards. There was no thinking under his gaze. No hesitation. For the briefest second of quickness, your eyes had landed in the ivory plush of an adorably stuffed bunny sat just three inches away from his shoulder, that had answered his ribald question. 
Your cheeks had ablazened when his quick eye followed your glance that lingered in the air. The corner of his lip had disgustingly peaked into a diabolical smirk, as his perverted mind exploded at the revelation. “Aw, sweetheart.” He groaned, a curious hand reaching out for your bunny.
“No, Eddie!” You tried to jeopardize his movements with urgency. “D-Don’t touch it, it’s not-”
“What is it, sweetheart?” He picked up the bunny, despite your protests. Eddie examined the cute stuffy, his perverted reflection shining back at him through the glassy, round eyes that mimicked your humiliated ones. “Shit, princess, you rub your pretty pussy on your bunny, hm? Does humping your stuffed animal feel better than fucking your fingers inside your cunt?”
“Eddie.” You whined with embarrassment, so shamefaced, dropping your head in your hands to conceal your burning expression. 
“It’s okay, darlin’.” He smiled, loving the twisted feeling of having his dick pulsate at your sheepish state. Eddie pried your hands away, revealing your timid face to him. “Remember, baby, I’m not judgin’ you, I just wanna know. Friends, they tell each other everything and help one another out, you gotta tell me, baby.” With a single hand gripping both your wrists tightly, you refused to look him in the eye, fear consuming you at the thought of Eddie Munson finding you gross for your actions. A wave of tears were threatening your eyes, and you hoped peering at the organized clutter of your nightstand would be enough to withstand the mortifying experience of crying after having him learn what you did. 
“You’re gonna make fun of me.” Your trembling lip managed to mutter out. 
“Aw, no, baby, I would never.” He turned your chin to force you to face him. “Honestly, sweetheart, thinkin’ of you doing that is so sexy.” He groaned with a bite to his lip. “God, picturing you humping your little stuffed animal has me feeling a little hot, see.” His hand deserted your face to rake over his pronouncing bulge, that seemed larger than before. “Mm, got me so worked up, baby. This is all your fault.” He moaned, squeezing his cock with a heavy hand.
Your mouth had opened at the sight of him touching himself over his pants. Those funny tingles had bursted between your thighs, and so insecurely, you questioned him. “Really?”
“Ugh, absolutely, babe.” He returned to your bunny, laying back to play with the small arms of your teddy, as his hand remained stationed on his boner, massaging his erection with breathy grunts leaving his mouth. “You’re so fucking beautiful, princess.” While attempting to ease your emotional nerves, Eddie had taken a good look at your bunny, the evidence of your usage being found in the matted fur surrounding the pink nose of your innocent companion. “Shit, did you fuck yourself this morning, baby?”
“That’s why I didn’t want you to touch it!” You dreaded. “I promise I’ll clean it, give it here-”
A loud gasp left your mouth, as Eddie rejected your request, bringing your stuffed bunny nose to nose, inhaling a waft of the lingering scent of your pussy. His eyes closed in ecstasy, moaning loudly as your raw smell invaded his being, rubbing the tent in his pants harshly for any form of relief. “Fuck, baby, you smell so good. I gotta touch myself.” He flung your precious stuffed animal back, in reach for his belt, cursing under his breath as his abrasive movements momentarily caused the leather to tighten when needing to be off. 
“W-What?” Your brows jumped to crease your forehead. 
“I can’t help it, baby, you’ve got me so fucking hard right now.” Eddie tugged opened his belt, rushing to undo the brass button of his pants. “Fuck, you’re not gonna judge me, right? That’s not what friends do. In fact, friends help each other out. Especially when they’re as sexy as you, baby.”
Swollen to a girth of thickness, Eddie’s cock smacked out with eagerness to fuck, and his precum oozed out, as he watched your face morph into surprise at seeing the first cock in your life. His ringed hand wrapped around himself, cursing under his breath as he felt the jolts of pleasure crash over him. “I touch myself like this, baby, fuck.” He squeezed the head of his cock, smearing his precum down to his base. “Do it so much to you, god, fuck me, princess, I think about you all the time. Can’t stop myself from jerking off at the thought of your pretty, little face.” Eddie whined. 
Your lips stayed stationed agape from the divulgence and sight of what was occurring in front of you. You hadn’t even prospered the fact that your body was reacting more candidly than your mind had anticipated, and Eddie nearly blew his load watching your thighs swish against one another to relieve your arousal. “Y-You think about me?” You delicately spoke. 
“Of course, fuck, fucking look at yourself, mm.” He tightened his grip. “Shit, baby, are you feeling horny, too? Is lookin’ at me making you wanna rub that fucking pussy?”
“U-Um, I-I don’t know.” Nervous eyes attempt to look around for anything that wasn’t Eddie Munson masturbating in your bed. “I-I don’t wanna do anything… anything bad. I don’t wanna get in trouble, Eds.”
“No, no, baby, it’s not bad, it’s good- so fucking good.” He sucked in his breath, as his hand picked up the pace. “Fuck, you’ll feel so good, darlin’- let me make you feel good, princess.” Eddie heaved, inching his large hand up your thigh until his fingers brushed your risened skirt. “Don’t tell anyone, and we won’t get in trouble.”
You watched with heavy pants, as Eddie’s strength managed to dig his fingers into the fat of your inner thigh to part them, and reveal those drenched baby pink panties he so perfectly predicted in the filth hive of his mind. “L-Like this- um, Eddie I’ve never done this with someone else, I-I don’t what to do-”
“Shh, shh.” He demanded, saving your breath from a wrecking tirade of being inexperienced. “Just let me touch you like good friends do.” His fingertips skimmed the puddle in your panties, causing an unwarranted squeal to escape your mouth, as you bucked your hips into his touch. “Oh, my-”
“Mm, Eds, you’re making me feel funny!” You attempted to close your legs, but his hand was quick to lightly slap your thigh in refusal. 
“Don’t fucking close your legs, fuck, just let me touch you.” His grip held you exposed to him, and he was aggressive with the way the pad of thumb smushed against your covered clit, forcing you to ball your sheets into your tightening fists. 
A guttural moan was ripped from you, as his thumb worked intricately to circle your clit, letting your hips ride his fingers. “E-Eddie!”
“That’s right, just hump my fucking hand, baby.” He whined, as he continued to jerk his cock, until his hips were following in sync with yours; his pivoting to thrust into his hand, yours grinding in desperate need for release. “Shit, touch me like I’m touching you- fuck, put your hands on me.”
Eddie’s slick hand grappled onto your wrist, pulling your resisting fist from your balled blanket onto his dick, where he maneuvered your fingers to wrap around his girth and mimic the strokes he once gave himself. A surge of wetness gushed at your given ability to elicit a deep groan from Eddie Munson. Seeing him react to your touch as such spurred a wave of confidence to continue your ministration, tightening your grip around his dick and providing him the languid movements that had his heavy sack pulsating with a need to cum. 
But Eddie Munson’s ego was growing expeditiously. 
And he wasn’t about to be putty in your hands- your oh so tiny, soft hands that gripped him like a vice and made him to want to fuck it for an eternity. No. Not when his hand was cupping your hot pussy, fingers becoming moist through your wet underwear, as they dug between your lips to rub that sensitive little clit and had you whimpering at his command. 
“Fuck, stand up, princess.” He shoved your hand off his cock, simultaneously choosing to regrettably tear his away from the warmth of your cunt.
Whining in despair, you stuttered. “W-What? Why?”
“Because,” Eddie positioned himself to the edge of bed, grabbing your hand to guide onto wobbly feets, pins and needles pricking your legs as they woken from their previous position, “I’m gonna put my cock between your pretty, little lips.” 
Manspreading, his thighs parted for your residence, Eddie’s penis burning red with desire, as it hung heavy against his abdomen, each protruding vein slimed with a coat of his precum. His hands rested on your hips, and he smirked as he took in the sight of your body, one he desired so much to just touch and violate for his pleasure. The blatantly obvious was shown in your face; your undivided attention had primarily focused on his dick, and he couldn’t help the chuckle of egotism that erupted from his chest, as he smoothed down the bumps and curves of your body. 
“Aw, you like looking at my cock, princess?” He sneered with a drenching voice of condescendment that had your head snapping with embarrassment.
“I-I’m sorry-”
“No, no, baby, don’t be.” Eddie’s focus began shifting to the hem of your shirt, teasing it up to reveal the soft navel of your belly.  “It’s all yours to look at. Just like your pussy is all mine.” He bit his lip. “Especially when I fuck my cock inside of you, hm, you gonna let me, baby?”
That had your chest heaving with bursts of nerves, both good and bad. To know Eddie wanted that closeness with you was profoundly what had your heart fluttering with the idea of him loving you to a committed relationship. One where he was a boy calling you his girlfriend, and you were a girl calling him your boyfriend. But Lacey Fisher’s words had suddenly begun playing in your head like a record on loop. “It hurt.”
And Eddie Munson’s cock was pulsating at a length in which both of your hands had to wrap around his girth just to mount it. 
“Um, I-I don’t, uh- Eddie I’ve never done that b-before… I want you, like, to be my boyfriend, right? Like, this is what boyfriend-girlfriends do? B-But maybe I should wait- or we should… as boyfriend and girlfriend.”
There was a little hint in your voice. The way you suggested your ending in a lighter octave, fear that Eddie didn’t want to be your boyfriend, that he’d be just like Harrison Moran. But Eddie Munson wasn’t Harrison Moran, and his smile lit up at the timidness of your stature.
His dream girl. 
“I get to be your boyfriend, baby?” He leaned in to press a tender kiss upon your thigh. 
A shy smile corrupted your face, as you nodded to his question. “Mhm! Is it okay if we kiss like boyfriend and girlfriend?”
He chuckled at your cuteness, squeezing the meat of your legs in frustration at the overload he was feeling for you. “Of course, princess, c’mere.” Bending slightly at the waist, Eddie took the liberty of enduring most of the labor of stretching as far as he could until his lips crashed upon yours. Your mouth just as sweet as your being, Eddie moaned at the moisturizing sensation of the vanilla strawberry lip gloss that conjoined you together. His hands were aggressive to suddenly keep your cheeks in place, forbidding you to leave his mouth until he was ready to let go. It’s why you squealed when learning Eddie had no shame being the messy kisser he was; pushing his tongue between your lips, clashing teeth with teeth, consuming your mouth, and plunging an obscene amount of spit to your tongue, as his ravished in exploration. “Mm, fuck, love kissing you.” His delirious voice murmured against your lips. “Remember, honey,” he finished you off with one more peck, “you can’t tell Donna and friends about this. Not about how we got together, okay?” Eddie stroked your face. “They wouldn’t understand, only say mean things about you and me.”
“Okay.” You quietly agreed, wanting to protect your boyfriend from the harsh words Donna would possibly say. How could she pull you away under the guise of protection, when Eddie Munson’s been nothing but sweet to you? What was she seeing that you weren’t? Surely, you always kept your mouth closed, deciding against your sour opinion of Tucker Walsh, who Donna had on-and-off dated for months. 
“Yeah, you’ll be a good girl and won’t tell anyone?” He cooed, stroking your face. 
“Uh-huh.” You gently beamed, seeing his eyes scan your face with proudness. 
“Perfect.” Eddie pecked your nose. “Now, c’mon, sweetie, don’t you wanna show your boyfriend your tits? Always dreamed of seeing ‘em.” Untrustworthy of your awkward movements, you had let Eddie take the reins, simply standing straight to have him, once again, persist the labor of handling you to undress in front of him. His fingers tickled your sides, as they grappled with your shirt to pull it over your head, and spring your tits from the confinements of the tight material. Eddie dramatically sucked in his breath upon sight, mumbling swears because your nipples had hardened from the chill air. “So fucking pretty- fucking beautiful, sweet girl.” He groaned, taking advantage of your topless self, and having a squeeze at your boobs.
“Y-You think I’m beautiful?” You whimpered, loving the beguiling feeling of his callouses scraping your tits, only to pull and pinch at your sensitive nipples. 
“So fucking beautiful.” Eddie was quick to answer, placing a kiss to your belly button, which had butterflies fluttering in your stomach, making you swoon over your kind boyfriend. Boyfriend. “Most gorgeous fucking girl I’ve ever seen. Just wanna be with you so bad- always wanted to be with you, sweetheart.”
“You are with me… now.” You giggled, which had him grinning salaciously. 
“Yeah, I am, huh?” He hand traveled down to your skirt, playing with the soft fabric. “Got the prettiest girl in school at my hands, I’m so fucking lucky.” He teased his way to the hem of your underwear, teetering between gently pulling them down, only to secure them back in place just to have your squirming with want. “I want you to do somethin’ for me, baby, okay? Just wanna see you out of these cute, little panties, but, honey, turn around and do it.”
Ready to please him, you obliged, turning your backside to him, leaving you to look back and watch him sit back to enjoy the incoming show, as his hand wrapped around his cock and, once again, began his slow strokes. “Like this?”
“Mhm.” He breathily sighed. “Just bend over real deep, princess, so I can see up your skirt, and I wanna- fuck, I wanna see you take off your panties just like that, shit.” 
Eddie Munson was a little weird. 
But maybe that’s what makes your boyfriend so interesting. Getting to know him will be fun. But for right now, you’d do as he says. The idea of making him happy made your heart flutter with joy, as a little voice in your head spoke to you that Eddie Munson was there to make you happy, as well. Bending forward, your skirt had completely risen, exposing your ass to him and that darkened spot in your panties waving at him as a tempting testament to how horny he was making you feel. 
“God, what a fucking ass.” Eddie grunted, spurring his hips to fuck up into his hand. “Go ahead and take those panties off, baby, show me what’s waiting for me.”
Grabbing the lace of your underwear, you tugged down the cotton, fighting the bit of resistance from when Eddie’s fingers buried your panties between the lips of your pussy. But they peeled off, showing him strings of sticky wetness that clung to the gusset and glistened your cunt. Eddie had to immediately stop touching himself, almost shooting his cum out from the sight of your puffed pussy lips squished between your thighs. As your panties teased down your legs, pooling at your ankles, you were startled from the abrupt groping from your boyfriend, feeling him grab handfuls of your cheeks that kept you spread wide, as you stood straight. 
“Eddie!” You shrieked into small laughter.
“Oh, my god, you’re gonna fucking kill, baby, fuck, look at you- this ass, look at this fucking wet pussy.” He kneaded the dough of your butt, before placing a stinging spank to watch the fat jiggle from his heavy hand. 
“Ow, Eddie!” 
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He was quick to land delicate kisses to the burning area, as the incriminating hand ran over your skin to soothe you. “Just can’t fucking help it.” Securing your hips, Eddie turned you around until your pretty face was smiling down at him, letting his cock twitch with all love and adoration for you. 
“What now?” He loved your curiosity. Getting to corrupt your innocent mind into wanting more, until you were his eager slut, begging to shove his cock into all your holes until you were leaking his cum. 
“Now,” he smiled, reaching behind him to bring forth your plushie bunny, one tainted with your cum and it had his dick jumping for joy, “you’re gonna show me how you fuck your little bunny, baby.” You swallowed thickly at his request, a twinge of embarrassment coursing through you at the request of showing Eddie something so carnal. But he was your boyfriend. And you could find trust in your boyfriend to make you feel good. “But I also need you to work that little mouth around my cock, honey. Can you do that? Suck it for me?”
You feared disappointing him. “I-I don’t know how. I’m sorry.”
“No, no, it’s okay, I’ll teach you, baby. Just get on your knees for me, yeah?” Last month, Eddie nearly combusted into the crotch area of his jeans watching you suck on a red lollipop during the chaotic minutes of lunch. Safe to say, an entire monologue teasing the meaning behind the potential return of hooded cultists had been ruined in the midst of advertising his upcoming campaign to his eager friends, who embarrassingly had to watch their Dungeon Master choke on his spit, when Eddie found your tongue twirling around the cherry ball of candy, only to suck up the syrupy saliva into you mouth. The head of his cock was no different than that lollipop. You’d do just fine. 
Letting your knees rub against your carpeted floor, your hands find perch onto his denim thighs, and you outlined the length of his cock with eyes, wondering how something of that thickness could fit into your mouth. Eddie parted ways with his pants, shuffling out of the rough material, with a metal chain and leather belt clanking along the way, to ensure enough room to have you get off on your stuffed animal.
“Go ahead, baby, start humping your little stuffie for me.” Eddie had meticulously placed your bunny between your legs, watching you for the moment your pussy came in contact with the nub of its nose. 
Eddie hissed at the affliction of pain from your nails digging into his hairy thighs, as you became too enlivened by the friction of your clit grinding against your little bunny to account for the provocation you were besetting against him. But Eddie Munson loved it. His immoral mind found arousal in watching you abuse his skin from pleasure, compelling his cock to jerk with profound need. 
“Yeah, feel good, princess? Rubbin’ that fucking pussy?” You pathetically nodded, gentle whispers of whimpers leaving your mouth, as you humped your teddy with all conviction. “God, just love usin’ that little bunny as a fuck toy, huh?” He pinched your chin to force your glossy gaze upon him. “Just like I’m gonna use you, right, honey?”
“Mhm, oh my- mm, fuck!” Your tummy clenched, as your hips picked up the momentum to circle the stuffed animal's face, and defile its fur with your wetness.
“Yeah, you’re gonna be my sweet, little bunny?” Eddie’s thumb began pulling at your bottom lip, leaving him cursing as it bounced back to its plumpness. “My sweet, little bunny who’s gonna be my little fuck toy to use whenever?”
“Y-Yes, Eddie… whenever.”
“Fuck, open that pretty fucking mouth for me, and stick out that tongue, baby.” Holding his cock up, Eddie smiled as you obliged so kindly, letting him smack the angry tip of his dick against your tongue, as you finally got a taste of him. 
“This w-will make you feel good, mm?” You pondered through mumbles, as you lost yourself in the sensation of pussy buzzing from the burning friction against your clit. 
“Yes, baby, fuck, just keep your mouth open.” Eddie’s hand fell heavy upon the top of your head, as he beckoned you to take him deeper, letting his cock to become enveloped in the soft warmth of your mouth. It became no question of whether this would feel good for him, the guttural moan that left his mouth upon intrusion had your hips bucking with fervency. 
The viscid coating of his cock with pungent precum made you hum, igniting a series of grunts from your boyfriend, as hissing vibrations exploded in his body. Eddie guided your hands to the base of his cock, encouraging you to massage the leftover that wasn’t occupied by your mouth. “Fuck, yes! Make it messy, baby, just spit all over it!” 
Eddie Munson sat back in rhapsody, losing himself in the delirium of having you choke on his cock, as your spit puddled his length, escaping your lips as you suckled on the frenulum of his head. His hair cascaded down, letting his body become too heavy to support as your mouth was bringing him a gratifying high that he never wanted to come down from. Your humps grappled against thumping his thumping veins, enclosing him into a vice grip that had him moaning at your mercy.
“Mm, sh-shit, princess, your—ugh, aaahh—mouth!” He huffed against his restricting lungs. Eddie’s hips began to mimic your bucking, as you moaned at the fizzing rub of your bunny scratching that greedy itch on your clit, allowing him to shove his cock to the gummy constriction of your throat, forcing you to gag on his invasive cock. Sweet spit raining down to his heavy balls, letting his pelvis of bushy pubes become soak with your secretion. 
You pulled off with a sore throat, thick strings of spit sticking from his cock to your lips, as your watering eyes scarily gleamed up at him. “Ugh! Y-Your too big- I can’t-”
“Yes, you can, fuck, it’s feels so fucking nice when you choke!” He urged your head back down, now blubbering with a need to finish on your tongue. “J-Just keep fucking yourself, shit! Don’t stop until I tell you.”
Your tongue reached to tickle the underside of his dick, memorizing his stern rigids that had your jaw hurting from breaking open. Eddie sat up to spy down your backside, where he virtually lost it at the sight of your ass cheeks recoiling from the lively movements of your hips humping your stuffy. “Ugh, you gonna cum, sweetheart?” He cupped your face, guiding your languid movements up and down his cock, as you went through the endeavor of nodding to his question. “Fucking cum, baby, cum all over your little bunny!” He demanded. 
His heavy hand landed on the back of your head, shoving your face to become suffocated in the unruliness of his pubic hair. Nose inhaling his musk, you sputtered on his cock, gagging at his length prodding at the back of your throat, all to bring Eddie’s long arm down to reach for your ass. A burning sting from a substantial slap had you wailing on his fat cock, “Fucking faster.” He dictated your movements, spurring your hips to drive into the plushy with spanks to your tormented ass. “Cum with me, fuck! M’gonna cum! Cum, baby, cum!”
The bundle of nerves in your pussy began detaching from one another, like a rope inching to snap. Rutting into your stuffed animal, your muffled moans were buzzing his cock, bringing you to the brink of a gushing explosion. Your thrusting became uncoordinated, as your tummy bursted with euphoria, and your release adulterated your white bunny. 
Sobbing on his cock, his stomach muscles tightened into an agonizing cramp, as his balls clenched to pump out his seed, flooding your throat with his hot cum. “Ah! Shit, shit, shit—ugh! Fuck me!” Gagging, your hands repeatedly swatted his thick thighs—decorated with the crescents and blistering scratches of your nails—to release you from potentially vomiting on his dick. 
His hand relinquished his hold, allowing you to come up for air. Gasping, struggling to find a breath of fresh air, as a concocted mixture of spit and cum dribbled out from your mouth, but you had no hesitation licking your lips to consume the strange taste of his release.
“Holy shit, that was incredible!” Eddie dropped back onto your bed, hands gripping his sweaty curls, as he urged his mind to collect the events that just transpired before him. Chest heaving, teeth gritted, skin moist, this- this is what that Belinda chick was singing about! It wasn’t until a warm head landed on his thighs, that his thoughts jumped to prioritize your wellbeing. In retrospect, the notion of his sticky balls pressing into your temple with his flaccid cock resting upon your forehead shouldn’t have been so idyllic to Eddie Munson, but my god, was his heart constricting at your exhausted state—half-lidded eyes begging for rest, plump lips parted for airy breaths, and your manicured fingers delicately tracing against the hairs of his thigh to soothe the injuries you were beginning to feel remorseful for inflicting. 
His hand gently stroking your cheek, garnering your attention, letting you tiredly peer up at his rosy state of pink cheeks and glistening skin. “You okay, princess? Too much? I shouldn’t have gone so rough, I’m sorry, baby. Fuck, just lost myself, you felt so good.” 
“It’s okay.” Your saccharine voice assured him. “You’re my boyfriend, you can do anything to me.”
Eddie Munson lovingly smiled at you, as he caressed your hot face. “As long as you want it. Only. Okay?” You nodded with confirmation, and you gazed up at your boyfriend with endearing eyes that had him bubbling with devotion to you. “Such a good girl, did you cum?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I promised to make you feel extra good, didn’t I, baby?” He smirked. “C’mere.” His strength guided you onto your bed, laying you against your cloud-like pillows, before reaching down to grab a hold of your bunny. Soiled with your cum, Eddie’s menacing grin cracked through his face, as he lightly pressed a finger into the wet fur. Your tummy stirred watching his tongue delve into the drenchness, and humming with delight. “Fuck, your pussy taste so good.” He groaned, discarding your stuffy to climb between your thighs.
Steady on his knees over you, he peeled off his ragged shirt, exposing his ivory skin of sharp bumps and squishy softness, ornamented with scary images of permanent ink your parents would surely scowl at if they ever saw. You beamed at him. “You’re so pretty, Eddie.”
His teeth stabbed into his lips, as he teasingly smiled with giddiness. “Thank you, darling. Never as pretty as you, though.”
While wanting the intimacy, you couldn’t help the surge of anxious nerves that brought an onslaught against you, as Eddie began trying to liven his cock with small strokes while eyeing your glistening pussy. “W-Wait, um…” His brows jumped into his bangs, as he awaited your concerns. “No.” You swallowed thickly. “Eddie, I’m not ready for… that.”
He could be Harrison Moran. He could break up with you. He could scoff at your prudeness. But Eddie Munson was simply a perverted man who devoted his longing into the beautiful girl that graced the halls of Hawkins High. He wasn’t Harrison Moran. And you learned that as Eddie stayed silent, merely leaning down to place an electrifying kiss to your lips, pouring out all his adoration for the girl that captivated his dreams every night for the past two years. 
“I still wanna keep my word, sweetheart.” He murmured into your kiss. “Can I do something else?”
You meekly looked into his darkwood eyes. “Will it hurt?”
“Not at all, princess.” He eased the scrunch of your worriment brows with a peck to your forehead. “I’d never hurt you.” 
With the nod of your head and the words of your mouth, Eddie had your corroboration to do as he please, and his mouth had traveled down the junction of your neck, sucking small love bruises to the column length; to the valley of your breasts, where his lips unclosed your hardened nipples with gentle suckles; and the softness of your bell, decorating your stomach with appreciative kisses that made you feel beautiful to the touch; before his breath became hot over your needy cunt. Sugary kisses of mawkish desire met the plushness of your inner thighs, inching to your swollen pussy lips, irritated and slick from the rawness of rubbing against your bunny. 
His long tongue dragged its way to part your cunt, leaving your breath to hitch at the newfound contact of his wet muscle ravishing you. If this is anything close to what he felt when your mouth was on him, surely you could forgive him for the bruised throat you’d have to aid in the following morning. Eddie became brutally gluttonous at the tangy arousal he slurped from your pulsating hole. So small and unused, he’d have a fucking field day when the moment would come he could drill his cock into you virgin pussy.  
The tip of tongue burned against your abused clit, agonizingly teasing swirls around the nub just to flick it with fervency, and have you crawling away from the unbearable overstimulation. “E-Eddie!” You stumbled for air. Your foot had planted itself against his hot forehead at an brutish attempt to push his determined mouth away, but Eddie Munson triumphed you in the realms of physical strength, and his arm had pried you open, before securing themselves to ground your squirming thighs. 
Latched like a leech, Eddie was becoming feverish from the deliriums of being pussy drunk. Sucking onto your clit, his head shook to abuse you, forcing the muscles in your legs to tighten with trembles. Your scent had engulfed him, as his nose smushed against your clit to snake his tongue into the clenching walls of your velvet pussy. Incoherent words were tumbling into your pussy, entirely unheard from your wrenching moans. 
“So fucking good.” He gargled into your cunt, groaning into your pussy, and making out with your entrance. Heaven was a place on Earth, and it was you. 
“I-I can’t, Eddie! Too much!” Though, your actions had conflicted with your words, hands buried into his hair, shoving his face to be submerged between your thighs, as your hips gyrated against the dimensions of his pretty face. On the precipice of letting go, your back flew off the surface of your bed, shaky legs lovingly crushing his head, with a moan beyond hotter than the numerous porno films of corny lines and exaggerated screams Eddie consumed just to perfect his skills. “I’m c-cumming- aahh!”
Eddie slurped your remaining juices, tonguing your pussy in search for anymore of your delicious cum that he would relish in. Patting your throbbing clit with a cherishing kiss goodbye, Eddie climbed your limp body, with a mouth and chin laminated with your wetness. One he smashed into your mouth with a smearing kiss against your lips, giving you a taste of the tarte sweetness of your pussy. 
“You’re such a good boyfriend.” You breathily giggled against his mouth, leaving him chuckling at your inebriated-like state. “Best one I’ve had.”
“I’m the only one you’ve ever had.” He laughed, as he guided you to rest on the thumping beat of his full heart. 
“So?” You smiled. “Donna’s always complaining about Tucker, and you’re nothing like him. I could never complain about you.” You were making him melt into a puddle of mush, as your words erupted in his tummy. He smiled down, kissing your hairline, before nudging you to grab a hold of your lips to his. “Mm, you smell good.” You hummed with delight.
Eddie guffawed. “Princess, that’s your pussy on my face.” He bumped your scrunching nose with a tender finger. “I probably smell like sex, sweat, and cigarettes, sweetheart.”
“But it’s you. I like you, Eddie.” Your round eyes peered up at him, and he held your contact.
“Yeah?” He whispered. Insecurity was swirling within him. Surely you were just babbling from the orgasm gifted upon you from him. Eddie Munson was Eddie Munson. You were fucking you. His vulgar behavior and profligate mind was undeserving of a girlfriend like-
“I’ve liked you for a while.” You smiled with closed eyes. Relishing. The bombshell of the revelation had his bursting with cinching brows of astonishment. “Remember, two years ago, we had art class together?” Remember? It was the day Eddie Munson first laid his eyes on you, of course, he remembers! Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t s- “I saw you, and you were just so cute doodling in your sketchbook. These scary monsters, and stuff. But they were good. I always wanted to compliment you on it, but I never got the courage. Just stuck to having a crush on you.” You delicately giggled. 
Eddie Munson could have been fucking you for the past two years?!
You were quick to hum into a light slumber. Eddie was stupefied at the actual idiocy he was currently metaphorically forehead-slapping himself for. That was until your sudden jolt had him jumping with concern.
“Oh, my god! Eddie, we completely forgot to go over the promotion of democracy and isolationism coming into the late 1800s!” You heaved.
He cooed. “Oh, sweetheart…”
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𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 | @sierrahhh
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coldnique · 6 months
Text
Haven | Loki x F!Reader
A/N: So here it is. Thank you for all the love you showed to the snippet, I hope it lives up to your expectations 🖤
And big shoutout to ma belle @fictive-sl0th for encouraging me with this one. Love u ✨
English is not my native language, so please forgive me if you find something weird or misspelled.
Genre: Angst, comfort, smut and all the feelings in between lol
Word Count: 2.2k
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Silence reigned in the Quinjet as it took off and so was the rest of the ride home. The only sound being the roaring engines and the light, nervous tapping of Banner’s feet on the floor. 
The mission didn’t go as planned. In fact, it was an utter disaster; a well laid trap in which they fell like flies. It was nobody’s fault, those were the only words Steve spoke but they meant any comfort for the team.
Loki’s head remained nested between his hands, the same image piercing deep on his mind. The face of that young girl as her eyes became dull, right on his arms. His leathers, still stained with her blood, weighed like lead. 
He, the god of chaos, who had seen countless battles in his thousand of years, felt his chest shrinking to the point he could barely breath. Not long ago, this would be just collateral damages. Nothing to be proud of, surely, yet neither the cause of such despondency. But a lot of things had changed of late, even if he refused to admit it. And was the smallest of details the trigger to make him realize that switch. 
That broken piece of the pendant she was wearing - identical to that one you had - was burning on his left pocket. He picked it from the ground as it drew his attention amongst the rubble, and kept it close instinctively. Maybe as a reminder of all the mistakes, all the suffering he had caused and that could never, he would never, allow himself to repeat.
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Music played through the ceiling speakers, filling the apartment as you reached for your favorite coffee mug, readying yourself for another quiet evening. Way too much for your liking. The seventh in a row. Because you also couldn’t help but keep the count of them.
Primal, impulsive, desperate. 
A hurricane that would repeatedly leave your entire being -and your apartment- upside-down.
With Loki, you had organically reached the arrangement that, if either of you were feeling stressed, angry or just bored, you would search the other for relief. So was it for the last ten months, although lately you had started wondering how long would it remain that way without one of you getting burned. Most likely you.
And you could see an inkling of that reviewing your last encounters, like something clicked on his head as soon as he was out of you. There was no more jokes and innuendos around the others or clandestine touches, neither so at least the casual chatting while lying tangled between his silky sheets. 
You two fucked, and that was all. Probably he was already losing interest in such simple creature and the game wasn’t funny anymore. Or maybe it was just you, falling too fast and without a net to catch you at the bottom. Whichever the reasons, uncertainty was something you didn’t thought you could bear much longer. 
You tried to collect all those prying thoughts during that time, accepting as a blessing the forced drought while he was out of the compound, in the hopes you could gather the willpower to nip it on the bud.
Three thuds.
That’s all it took to bring you back to reality, almost pouring the boiling water over your hand. Cursing, you grabbed a kitchen cloth to hastily clean the mess and walked towards the front door, opening in a rush to face the cause of your restlessness. 
“Oh…hey. I- I wasn’t expecting you” words came out abruptly, while you warily studied the man in front of you. Concern surpassing confusion with each detail you noticed.
The first thing that gave away something was different was his appearance. He always looked flawless when he knocked at your door or greeted you at his place. No matter the style of his clothes or the lack of them, he would evidence every inch of the god he was on every single occasion. But not that night. Jet black tendrils clung around his ethereal face, that was mostly covered in dirt and what you immediately recognized as dry blood. He seemed scared and vulnerable; he seemed human.
“Lo-“ your voice faded when his hands flew to your face. Slender fingers tracing its outlines with such gentleness, as if verifying everything was where it should. As if trying to prove you were still real. You remained static, afraid of any move that could scare him out of his trance, but the anguish of seeing him so wrecked was too strong at the same time.
“Are you hurt? Is something wrong?” He swallowed a lump, shaking his head slowly before his eyes traveled up to find yours, his hand sliding to carefully push your hair back. Still, that wordless answer only increased your worry. Something bad happened, that you were certain, but you also knew well when it was better to elide the queries. Anyway, those thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a light cough, his throat aching to voice the question that echoed in his mind.
“May I come in?”
It sounded more like a plea.
You held his gaze for a beat, the watery red rim framing those precious aquamarines was constricting your chest with baffling pain. There was no hunger or thirst in them; it was need.
Taking his hand in yours, you gently pulled him inside, releasing it briefly to close the door behind before walking him to your room.
Before you could turn to face him, you felt two arms sneaking under yours, both hands resting on your abdomen and drawing you gently against his chest. A warm sigh fanned your shoulder and made you shudder in anticipation, but again, instead of his teeth as you predicted, were his lips the first to touch your skin, doing it with such tenderness it caught you off guard. It was your body answering earlier than your mind when you raised your hand to find his head, guiding it closer while your neck relaxed to a side to grant him more space.
His mouth kept tracing the arch of your jaw whilst his fingers worked unhurriedly to rid you of the thin woolen sweater, memorizing each curve and mark along the way. His unerring touch erasing any trace of resolution you had mere minutes ago. You broke the embrace briefly to throw your sweater apart and finally face him. Anxious hands, this time your own, reciprocated the favor, undoing the fasteners of his leather combat suit. Instead of rushing you or make use of his powers, he observed quietly your actions as you undressed him fully. He wanted to relish every second of it. 
Once you where done you sought his lips with renewed covet, while the hand that remained on his torso begun its descend to his length. Loki’s hand hunted yours in the process removing it from its target and leaving you utterly confused. He brought it to his face, nuzzling and kissing it.
“Let me do this right for once” his grip loosened, leaving your hand to rest on his shoulders “I just need you to be here” he paused, tipping your chin up to him “I need you with me”
“I’m here” you said with a faint voice, trying to sound reassuring and only then realizing how long you had been holding your breath, barely having the chance to recover it when his lips were catching yours again.
He walked you backwards until your legs bumped against the mattress and you broke the kiss just to pull yourself back and allow him the space to climb in. Loki stood there for a second taking in the sight of you lying there, wanting every detail engraved in the safest place of his mind. 
“So beautiful” 
The thought leaked outside, almost inaudible as he approached to place himself on top of you with sheer care. A tide of shyness washed over you. Ridiculous, given the times he had saw you like that before, the unnameable things those hands had done to every spot of you anatomy. The blush flooding your face was not lost despite the feeble illumination.
His hand ghosted your side down to your hip, eliciting a trail of shivers. Swollen lips creating an undesigned pattern around your collarbones before traveling south, not leaving an inch untouched on their way. He stopped once they met the hem of your underwear. Darkened eyes peeked up to yours, silently asking for a permission you were more than willing to grant. He slid them down slowly, pressing a silent kiss on your knee as he tossed them to the floor, that gesture alone eliciting a quivering sigh.
The god resumed his way back, the tip of his nose brushing up your torso, drinking in your scent as his hand lingered securing your waist. The caution of his movements felt like the sweetest of tortures and your patience was running short with each precise stroke, each skillful flick of his tongue against your burning skin. Gripping both his shoulders like a vice you dragged him up, your mouth searching his with an urgency you hadn’t experienced never before. A sensuous dance of teeth and tongues that was abruptly interrupted by your moans when he cupped your heated mound and started massaging it in lazy circles. 
Agony. That’s how it felt as he turned you into putty over his deft fingers, the crave of him setting you ablaze.
“I need you now, Loki” you moaned into his ear. And obediently he requited your desires.
He raised on his knees carrying you on top of his lap. His hard length breaching inside, your legs naturally locking around his sides. Both groaning in unison as it hit your core, staying there for a second as you adjusted to the achingly pleasant stretch.
Soon he started driving in and out of you excruciatingly slow, your lids falling heavily at the overwhelming sense of pleasure. Every time he buried himself again was pure bliss.
“Let me se those eyes” he whispered against your lips. You obliged, meeting again his pleading gaze and losing yourself in it. He was all around, all your senses clouding to the world outside. 
Each caress, each lunge, each kiss were none other than a statement.
Loki thrusted one last time, slick foreheads pressing against each other, arms holding you fiercely as you would have sworn you could crumble in that very moment. There was no physical way he could be closer, deeper. A broken moan left your throat and you both collapsed together, the heavenly feeling of him pouring his all inside of you making your whole being quiver. After that, the only noise you could hear was his erratic breath against your own as you rode your orgasm before slumping back into the mattress . 
He pulled out carefully and laid between your legs, resting his head on your chest, a strong arm still securing you while your hand softly combed back his tousled waves, engulfed in a lulling haze. 
Fingertips danced absentmindedly outlining the valley between your stomach and your hip while he mustered the courage to speak. 
“I am sorry”
“Hmm” You weren’t sure if you had heard well, his husky voice muffled against your skin. 
Lazily you opened your eyes just to find his looking up into yours. Loki repeated the three words, this time slow and clear. You tried to fit the pieces in your clouded brain. 
“Is it something that happened on the mission?” you spoke softly, granting him the trust to speak openly
“Somewhat” he winced, the dreadful scene flashing for a second. 
Another deep inhale. You held your own. 
“See, the truth is I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And that was terrifying.” 
Thoughts started to race, trying to connect the dots through his words. Loki noticed how you stiffened below him, but left no time before continuing. 
“But then, during the mission…I realized there was something that truly scares me. More than anything else.”
Glassy irises pierced into yours and instinctively you just wanted to comfort him, guiding him up until you were at the same level. 
“I don’t want to lose you” your heart sank with his admission, with a mix of sadness and relief “And I’m sorry I’ve been turning you away lately, when you have always been there for me. I know I don’t deserv-“
“Don’t say it.”
You cupped his face with both hands. 
“Listen, Loki.” You spoke clear, wanting him to understand every word. “I don’t know what happened out there and I don’t need to. But you won’t lose me. No matter what. Or how hard you try to.” 
Your smile was sincere, soothing. He pressed your hand against his cheek, his lips slightly curving upwards, and kissed your palm thoughtfully. Those words didn’t erase the fear, nor the certainty. And for the first time in ages, he felt safe. It was odd and comforting. 
He tilted his head and sought your lips one more time, kissing you with resolution and tenderness.
After all, maybe that’s how love was supposed to feel.
General/oneshot tags ✨ @lokisgoodgirl @fictive-sl0th @peaches1958 @ozymdias @holdmytesseract @muddyorbs @infinitystoner @sailorholly @joyful-enchantress @mochie85 @unlucky-number-13 @evelyn-kingsley @anukulee @maple-seed @xorpsbane @superficialdomina
346 notes · View notes
heartofwritiing · 2 months
Note
could you write wilbur soot confessing his love to a crush? 👉👈
something about how he's been pinning after this crush for so long, but the crush seems a bit avoidant or something
but that's because the crush also has a crush on him and is very very shy qpwimsmanssjslslek sorry im not good with requests
You and me need never be, lonely again.
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Paring: cc!wilbur soot x fem!cc!reader
authors note: Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you don't mind the reader being a content creator and i’m sorry she’s not super shy because im not really sure how to write shy lol but i hope you like the request! I just thought it would add to the idea and I've wanted to do something similar to this for a while! This is a request back from august. I am so sorry this took me so long to get out. I've been going through some shit irl but I'm finally starting to come back to writing because I genuinely love it and posting on here since it is my safe space!
line from this prompt list
warnings: friends-lovers, reader lives in the US, brief description of anxiety, the reader sends mixed signals, swearing, kinda angsty, happy end, super unedited!
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"No! That was such bullshit!"
The voice of Tommyinnit ran through the speakers of your computer causing you to let out a chuckle that you were the reason for his outburst.
You were playing Gang Beasts on stream with some of your closest friends, and you had grabbed Tommy's character and thrown him off the map by picking him up.
Laughter rang out amongst the group as the screen card popped up saying your username won. You cheered as everyone groaned but dispersed into 'ggs' then that's when everyone started to bid goodnight. You hadn't realized it had been four hours of streaming and playing games, showing the good time you were having with friends.
"Alright chat, that's gonna be it for me today! Please remember to click the follow button if you're new to stream that way you'll know when I go live! byeee!" You did your outro, quickly closed your stream down, and logged out of Twitch.
It was an uneventful stream session, thank god. You’ve noticed more and more how your chat gets when you even mention wilburs name.
“you logging off completely y/n/n?” Ranboos voices asks through your earbuds.
“No, I’ll play a few more rounds if you guys are down,” you respond.
“HELL YEAH!” Tommy boasted. “IM GONNA KICK YOUR ASS THIS TIME Y/N/N!”
“Oh, it’s on gremlin child!” you replied.
Wilbur listened to this conversation on his end, letting out a chuckle. He honestly doesn’t know why you make him laugh so easily. Anytime you threw a genius comment toward Tommy that was deemed insulting, or calling him a name Wilbur fell for you more and more. If only he had the guts to tell you.
You as well wouldn’t admit it but every time Wilbur laughed all you could feel was butterflies punching your stomach and a smile that made your cheeks hurt. You were also falling hard for him.
After about another fifteen minutes, Tommy and Ranboo had bid their goodbyes for the night and ended their calls. You were left in call with Wilbur, the silence could be cut with a knife.
Knowing him for two years was hard. Wilbur was everything to you. He was funny, smart, charming, and overall made you feel comfortable. Something you thought you’d never have with anyone. Having to only talk on call and video made things easier for you. On call you could hide your blushes and smiles from him, but not from your chat who caught every interaction between you and Wilbur when you streamed. The constant ’Wilbur x name confirmed?’ tweets and comments in your twitch chat were recently repetitive and you wondered when you became such a beacon of attention. It gave you such anxiety to have all eyes on you when you wanted to spend time with your best friend.
It was getting obnoxious to the point where you debated making a tweet to get the fans to stop shipping you both, even if you were dating it was no one’s business. Still you never dared to say anything out of fear of stans coming at you in anyway. You didn’t need to draw more unwanted attention to yourself.
“You logging off? it’s getting pretty late for you,” you spoke up.
“Yeah, we both should, by the way what times your flight tomorrow?”
Right, you were flying less than eight hours from now to finally meet your friends inperson. You all had planned this for months, booking hotels and flights, making a whole deal about it. Then you really wouldn’t be able to hide from him for a whole week.
“Around seven-thirty,” you reply.
He hums.
“I’ll let you get some rest, see you tomorrow night darling,” his voice purposely going lower on the ‘darling’ part that you almost didn’t catch it, making your knees go weak.
“N-night Will,” you stutter, end call and slump back into your desk chair trying to calm your racing heart. Meanwhile Wilbur all the way across the ocean in Brighton has a smile plastered across his lips.
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About a plane ride, a train ride and car ride later, you are stood in the hotel lobby in Brighton waiting for a late Tommy and Wilbur to arrive. You were super nervous to meet them. Having only been friends for what was a short time, it felt like you knew them for years, so why was this so scary?
You debated in your mind about texting them to see if they were close by, but you didn’t want to come off as annoying and impatient. You wanted to make a good first impression, but again these were your friends. Why were you shaking with nerves?
You fiddled with your thumb’s absentmindedly until you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders, causing you to jump out of your skin. You spin around to be met with a cackling Tommy who is clucking his stomach from laughing so hard at your reaction.
“Fucking gremlin child,” you huffed under your breath, not realizing the evident blood rushing to your cheeks from being startled so easily.
“It’s nice to hear you say that in person,” a deep voice said from behind Tommy. You shifted your eyes to see a very tall Wilbur, who was wearing his round glasses pushed up his nose and curly hair fluffed to the side.
His dark sweater selves rolled up to revel his arms tucked into his side as he gazed at you with a soft smile. Finally after two years of being separated by seas, your best friend was standing right in front of you. It was surreal to say the least.
You laugh and jump forward to embrace him. The number of times you’d tease him over-call about his height made you regret your words. He towers over you as he bends down to your level to give you a long awaited hug. His arms are soft, yet firm as they wrap around your back and cage you into his embrace.
You both pull away, both grinning from ear to ear. He looks down at you with a hint of something behind his eyes, he seems to be genuinely happy to finally meet you in person. which makes you blush at the thought of him looking forward to this moment since you told him you wanted to come here. You're quickly brought out of your moment when Tommy speaks up behind you.
"So he gets a hug and I don't?!" his tone slightly offended.
"Yup, cause you're annoying," you bring a hand up to flick his forehead, causing him to let out a irritated noise. you had only just met him in person but something compelled you to do that. Maybe it was just a reason for you to break the ice and it was working because you all broke out into giggles.
“Im just kidding Tom,” you motion him into a hug.
Wilbur just stood observing the entire interaction between his two best friends. He was thrilled to finally have you here, he couldn't wait to show you all his favorite places, hang out, and get to know better in person. Finally.
The two boys had managed to drag you to the beach, and even though it was freezing Tommy insisted on going to the arcade to try and win another 'vlog gun'. After suffering through loosing a few games, Wilbur managed to win you a little stuffed cat that you promptly named Mr Whiskers.
It was endearing to watch him struggle at most of the games so he could get enough tickets. It was all worth it in his eyes to embarrass himself by losing ski-ball to you, twice, he saw the evident blush on your cheeks and the look you gave him. As if he hung the stars in the sky just for you. It made his chest hurt in a good way.
The rest of the night went smoothly for the most part. More and more, Wilbur had been getting more touchy with you. Though you didn’t mind it at all, maybe he didn’t realize how much he was putting his hand on you as you walked side by side as he led you through crowds. How he held doors open for you. It was sweet.
Maybe he was doing it just to be nice. That small voice in the back of your head telling you thats all it was. Because thats what friends do.
Eventually, the three of you met up with Ranboo and Charlie. They were just how they were online, which made meeting them a whole lot better. Walking around Brighton, making inside jokes and teasing each other. You hadn't been this happy in a while. You can remember the last time you genuinely enjoyed yourself, your friends were the product of that. You were fortunate to have found them when you did. Quarantine was hard on you, much like the rest of the world. So when you were invited to join a group game call, you couldn't pass up the opportunity. That night, something had clicked between you and Wilburt specifically. Then you started to join more calls with the gang and the rest was history.
Sometime in the night, you found yourself walking behind with Wilbur by your side chatting about nothing in particular. Until the comfortable silence filled the air between you, you took a moment to take in the nightlife of Brighton. The street lamps guide your way through the beachside and the pubs on the corner were starting to fill up. As if the city was somehow more alive at night.
"I'm really glad you came," Wilbur speaks, sincerely.
You stop your wide-eyed gaze to look at him and smile softly at him.
"I am too," You gush. "I'm honestly considering moving here,” Now he’s smiling.
Wilbur's brain starts to go a million miles a second. His heart leaped at the thought of you living closer to him. Seeing you in person everyday seemed like a dream come true. He begins to slow his step and a frown replaces your smile. Your own thoughts running rampant now, assuming you might've freaked him out by voicing that you wanted to move here so soon after meeting him in person. Maybe it made him uncomfortable. it was too soon to say something that bold. You had only just met him in person today.
"Listen, Y/N..."
You stopped and your brain got the best of you with his tone. You shouldn't have said anything like that to him. It was too soon.
“I don’t want to sound cheesy, but I need you to know how I feel.”
Oh... OH.
You knew what this was leading to. Realizing why he was acting the way he was all day.
"I like you, more than like you. You're funny, beautiful, smart, and everything I could've hoped for in a best friend. But I can't keep pretending I don't think of you when we aren't talking, or how when I look at you my chest hurts."
Wilbur liked you. Really liked you. You would jump for joy and shout to the rooftops about how much you reciprocate his feelings but something in the back of your mind told you not to. The doubt in your mind from yourself, both your fans online judging. It made you slowly start to panic. You felt as though you weren’t good enough for him.
You saw the aftermath of when his fans shipped him and Niki together. It almost ruined their friendship. You didn’t want that.
"Please say something?" he stops his rant to notice you are staring up at him with blank eyes.
"I-uh," you stutter. "can we maybe not do this now?"
His face falls and it instantly crushes you with regret. His disappointment shows as he gives you a forced smile and nods.
"Y-yeah, let's catch up with everyone, Tommy wants to do this big stream at his place." he gestures for you to move along with him, all while you feel horrible for doing this.
You wish you could take back what you said. You know you've hurt him, It's painfully obvious when he doesn't talk to you for the rest of the walk. You glance at him a few times but he keeps his eyes forward and stoic.
If only you didn’t let your anxiety get the best of you. You had to talk to him at some point, but for now you pushed it aside. The rest of the group didn’t seem to notice the sudden tension between the two of you, if they did nothing was remarked about it.
As you continued the journey to Tommys flat, you and Wilbur still walked silently side by side. With what little courage you had, you reached out your hand and held his in a moment of truce. Giving it a gentle squeeze with your fingers to seal the deal that you would talk later. You heard his soft inhale at the contact and he squeezes back. Your shoulders drop from the weight of tension being lifted off. Maybe, just maybe this ment this conversation wasn’t over.
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Back at Tommy’s, the monitor in his cramped bedroom with everyone packed together like sardines; shows the twitch chat flashing by with viewers comments.
“WELCOME BACK TO THE STREAM EVERYONE!” Tommy shouted causing you to hold your ear in slight pain.
“God Tommy, could you be anymore loud?” you wince.
“Look who’s here chat!” he gestured to you with his hands, ignoring your complaints. You waved at the webcam as chat went crazy. He introduced everyone else as they all broke out into a chorus of conversation.
Wilbur was mostly quiet on your left, an occasional sarcastic comment made here and there. You could practically feel his eyes buring into the side of your head. Hopping chat wasn’t noticing how he was looking at you, your eyes shifting to your lap to fidget with your fingers.
Out of view, Wilbur reached over and took your hand picking at the skin around your nails. You had stopped your nervous tick and opted for squeezing his hand. Nobody seemed to notice the sudden shift in both your behavior.
Suddenly you felt tense, the feeling of having everyone’s eyes on you made your mind start to spiral.
Letting go of Wilburs hand, you quickly had excused yourself and walked out of Tommys room and into the kitchen.
Everyone had a mix of concerned and worried expressions as they watched you leave the room but didn’t say anything about it. Wilbur had followed you in pursuit. He found you in the kitchen hyperventilating Your panic had taken over and now your lungs were paying the price for the burning sensation from not breathing.
“it's okay,” he took your face into his hands and held you. “just follow my breaths.
he took a breath in, and you followed.
When you came to your senses, Wilbur had asked you what was wrong and you just began to cry. Everything came rushing down on you.
“Im sorry. I-Im sorry I shot you down earlier, Im sorry for h-hurting you. I-i,” you stuttered over yourself. Wilbur shakes his head at you. He probably thinks you’re such a mess.
“I don’t understand, I know you like me too, so I don’t understand why you rejected me after I poured my heart out to you. Then you go and hold my hand while we're walking.'
Wilbur was right. Playing with his feelings was selfish and cruel. He was completely in the right to question you. You were practically flirting with one another all day, and then you shut down his advances of trying to open your relationship.
“I do wanna be with you.” you sniff. “I'm just really scared.”
"Why darling? It's just me, your silly old Wil." he pokes at your sides causing you to let out a giggle. Your best friend, who looked at you with the prettiest chocolate eyes, who stayed on call with you all night when you couldn't sleep. The only person you told your deepest fears and dreams to.
You take a shaky inhale as you begin to explain. "I don't wanna ruin our friendship, we have something I've never experienced with anyone else in my life. I care about you too much to let me be a distraction in your life, and I am scared that the fans will-"
Wilbur interrupts you with a hand on your arm.
"The fans? darling who cares about that, I care way too much about you to even care about what strangers think. It's no one's business who I, or you for that matter have a relationship with." he clarified. "I love you and nothing or no one will ever change that."
Those three words made your heart leap in your throat.
"Y-you l-love me?" you stutter in disbelief.
"Yes, of course I do."
Tears roll down the apples of your cheeks as you lean forward to engulf Wilbur into another hug. His arms wrapped around your back reciprocating your embrace. your face buried in his neck as you inhale his cologne and your tears dampen his skin.
"I love you too Wil," you whisper.
He squeezes you closer to him in return and this time you don't hold yourself back...
-
taglist: @trashcanduck @ax-y10 @mysticalsoot @idontreallyexistyet @loonalvjy @toastyliltoasts41
191 notes · View notes
writersmess · 6 months
Note
Ok, first of all
I LOVED the buck fanfic you wrote the other day, my heart...melting! So, I came back with a New idea! (If you want it, of course)
Now. Season 6 Was a rollercoaster of emotions, especially when buck got Hit by lighting. What if his fiance (from your other work) is by him day and night, being all calm and optimistic, knowing buck. And when he finally draws his first breath all alone, she just falls on her knees, crying and finally letting it all out what she held back all this time?
Now, if you don't want to do it, just simply skip 😊 no one forces you. Anyway! Have a great time and take Breaks, think about yourself.
COME BACK (TO REALITY) | EVAN BUCKLEY
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Pairing: Evan Buckley x fem!reader
Summary: After being proposed to by Buck in the middle of the night, you didn’t expect an accident to change the course of your lives.
Warning: Mental breakdown, crying, hospital, mention of being struck by lightning.
Word count: 1.5k
a/n: oh my god, I didn’t think it would take me so long to get back. these months have been so crazy at work, I’ve been doing crazy shifts and I’m trying to get my social life back together again. I’ve missed writing for our troublemaker boy.
I hope you enjoy it!!! And I apologize if there’s any mistakes, English is not my first language.
It can be read as a sequel to Vivid Dream.
Masterlist
...........................................
“buck had an accident, we’re at the hospital”
All it took was one message to turn your life upside down.
It’s funny how life is a great well of irony. you spend half of your life by yourself, sometimes hoping to find your soulmate, sometimes not. and then you find them. and they’re everything you didn’t even know you were looking for.
It was amazing how you and buck matched but at the same time were so different. you were adorable. had the warmest and the most welcoming smiles and hugs, and the best advice anyone could ever need. and you were determined, you knew what you wanted for your future, ever since you were a kid. and buck, well, it was buck. the boy who ran away in the hope of finding himself and finding the true meaning of happiness.
which he didn’t imagine that it would be in those sparkling eyes of yours or in that sincere smile on your lips.
and you also didn’t expect to find it so soon in a man like buck. so spontaneous, with such a beautiful smile, and with such a traumatic past.
and that was your fiancé now.
after proposing at 4am in the middle of a shift. with no ring and definitely with no preparation, but with the greatest love that could fit inside of that heart full os scars of him.
“going on a call. love you”
The opened and unanswered message screamed in the car holder as you drove through the dark and empty streets of L.A.
you didn’t know what to expect, what could have happened. you took deep and long breathes, your hands shaking as you gripped the steering wheel, your heart pounding.
“He was struck by lightning”
you knew all the risks that this job entailed, but this was something totally beyond your imagination. it was something impossible to predict.
you paced back and forth in the corner of the waiting room, not wanting to see the looks of pity from your friends. buck would be fine soon, he would face this like he faced everything else.
Eddie without saying a word stopped in front of you and waited until you noticed his presence, so he could hug you. and that’s exactly what you needed at the moment.
“only one of you can go and see him now”
before the doctor had finished his sentence you were at his side, walking with him to the room where your best friend, your fiancé, was.
and he was there. sedated. intubated. It’s like your world was one step away from falling apart. You’d never felt like this before, like control was out of your hands. you had it all figured out, all the plans, the dreams, the next steps, everything was millimetrically planned. and suddenly it wasn’t anymore. your eyes were on Buck lying on the gurney, in such a deep sleep, his face was confused, his frown slightly furrowed, as if he was in an argument, or frustrated.
a few days has passed and Buck’s condition was stable. the days had been grayer, your apartment was empty and you didn’t feel like working, at all. but you woke up every day, put a smile on your face and tried to be optimistic, you had faith that he would get well, he needed to. he needed to come back to you.
You didn’t know it, but 118 commented about you, they thought you were in a state of shock. you didn’t cry, quite the opposite, you always had a smile on your face. when someone was worried about Buck’s situation, you would put your hand on their shoulder and tell them that everything would be fine, that he would be back soon. Eddie was very worried. he knew you, and he knew that you were going to fall apart at any moment, and he hoped to be around when it happened.
you were coming into Buck’s room when you saw Chris talking to your unconscious fiancé, and your eyes automatically filled with tears. you kept quiet and stood in the corner watching the scene and could see Eddie drying his tears, and your heart sank. you needed the love of your life back, Eddie needed his best friend back, Chris needed his playmate back. Buck needed to come back, he needed to fill in the gaps that were open in so many hearts.
“hey buddy, how was your conversation with Buck?” you made yourself noticed when Chris finished talking to him and he smiled when he saw you.
“is he going to be okay right?” Eddie could see you trying hard to hold back the tears, something he didn’t even bother to hide anymore.
“of course sweety, he’ll come back to us”
***
it was mid-afternoon, you were sitting in the chair next to his bed, trying to read a book, when your mind started to take you to places you didn’t want to go. everything started coming at you hard, all these feelings. it was an anxiety crisis. you felt your heart pounding, difficulty in drawing in air, and tears began to fall.
you approached the bed and held tightly onto the hand of the man lying in that bed.
“babe I can’t do it anymore. I can’t put a smile on my face and pretend that everything is fine when it isn’t. I need you here with me. I know you’ll be fine, I know it. but Chris, Eddie, damn it, everyone, needs you back, we need you, I need you, and I don’t know how to go on without you here, I don’t know. So i need you to fight for me, for us, fight and win this battle babe, win it for me and don’t leave me, please don’t leave me”
And you couldn’t imagine it, but the other end of the line that connected Buck to this plan was in you. He clung to that, he clung to you, to the thought of having you again, and for that he fought, for you he broke the glass that separated him between dream and reality, between life and death, it was for you that everything was worth it. Because of you he would come back.
And he did it.
You could feel a grip on your hand, it was light, but it was there. your eyes widened and your heart skipped a beat. this couldn’t be a reflex, you couldn’t believe it was. and it really wasn’t, your Buck was coming back, he was reacting.
As if he’d sensed it, Eddie appeared in the room with the coffee he’d gone to grab, at the exactly moment your knees failed, and he held you.
“I-Is he...?”
“Hey hey, calm down”
You couldn’t complete the sentence, and before your friend could question you, you heard a weak cough, it was Buck, he really was there. back to you.
You were holding Buck’s hand as if your life depended on it, and to be honest, it kind of did. you, who had never fallen in love in your life, were completely surrendered to those blue eyes that you had begged to see again.
You didn’t notice the moment Eddie left the room, but when your eyes met Buck’s, you burst into tears. He couldn’t say much, and you didn’t even need or want him to try, he was there, that’s all that mattered at the moment. you had your head resting on your intertwined hands on the bed, and the sobs coming from your lips left the words stuck in your throat and in your mind. Buck slowly and painfully raised his trembling hand, reaching your head and resting his hand there.
He waited until you calmed down, and his chest tightened at the way you looked at him. your lips trembling and your face wet from the tears that kept falling down your cheeks.
“you’re back”
“for you” his voice was weak and hoarse.
“I never thought I could love someone the way I love you, buck. please don’t do it again, I know I can’t take it one more time” your voice was low and trembling.
“I proposed to you, I had to come back to make sure it would happen,” he whispered with that little smile on his lips.
“You idiot, you made me a promise to love me for the rest of my days, I was going to pick you up wherever you were,” you replied in a whisper and placed a light kiss on his lips, afraid of hurting him.
“I love you, and i’m going to keep that promise” he said and you nodded your head.
that intimate moment between you lasted only a few minutes, then the nurses and doctor entered the room to check on Buck and as soon as they allowed his friends to come in, the mess was made. there was laughter and loud conversation, happy hugs and stories about the day of the accident, you could hear “too soon?” too many times in a short period of time and all you could do was laugh.
You could see the happiness in your fiancé’s eyes as everyone gathered around, and you finally felt your heart calm down. he was really there, he came back to you and you could finally live out your vivid dreams together.
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turvi · 10 months
Note
hi! id like to request a prof remus x prof wife that involves the reader being jealous that remus is being flirted with and he finds it cute that she’s jealous <3
Thank you for sending this request. Keep sending me requests <3 REBLOGS AND COMMENTS IF YOU LIKE THIS
Y/n is an independent and strong woman. For a long time, she had believed she needed no man to make her feel good. She was confident in herself to never fall on her knees for a man.
But not only Remus John Lupin has torn down Y/n's walls that she had built up throughout the years and brought her down to her knees, but he also made her feel something she never knew she was capable of feeling. Jealousy. She watched as a 7th-year student blatantly flirted with her husband. Oh, how the ancestors were right. Jealousy is an ugly color. And Y/n hated how she was throwing daggers at the student who leaned towards Remus too closely.
But Y/n lost her cool when the student touched Remus' arm for a second too long, giggling over a joke Remus made. Y/n rolled her eyes. It wasn't even that funny. She has heard better. Y/n started rolling the ring on her left hand. It's weird how the coldness of the metal brought warmth to her heart, reminding her of the promise she shared with Remus of spending a life with him only to be apart when death says it's time.
Remus immediately noticed the discomfort on his wife's face and excused himself, not noticing the scowl on the student's face. His eyes only focused on his Y/n. A mischievous smirk spread on his face as he saw her picking her nail clear telltale sign that she was upset about something and had no intention of sharing it with Remus. But he has his ways of making his dove speak.
Remus tugged her towards him taking her to his office but Y/n did not react even though internally butterflies were raging in her stomach. Without a word Y/n sat in his chair and picked up a worn book that was resting on his desk.
He watched her as he held back his laughter. With a coquettish grin, he approached her, his hands behind his back. "Is something the matter, dove?" he asked in a soft tone.
Y/n stubbornly shook her head, clearly enjoying the attention of the werewolf. He grinned. "If that's the case, why are you holding the book upside down?"
She gasped and instantly straightened the book in her hand. "Honey..talk to me." His voice was almost whiny as he nudged his nose on her neck.
"Why don't you talk to that student and ask her what's the matter?" Even before she could roll her eyes, Remus held her jaw gently and made her look into his eyes.
"Dove, you have my heart, my soul and my body. Then why are you so grumpy about an 18 year old when I have eyes only for you?"
He gently caressed her cheek when she revealed with a pout. "I know Remus. I just don't like it. I know I seem possessive, but even you look like you will turn into your werewolf form when a man merely looks my way."
Remus tugged her towards him again, chuckling at his own hypocrisy. "I'm sorry, dove. I didn't realise I was being hit on. But I would love to let that happen to me again if I get this reaction from you."
He laughed when she scoffed and lovingly hit him. Remus wrapped his arms around her, taking her in as she glowed under the dim lights of his office. Remus didn't believe in God but was willing to pray that God would let him spend eternity with Y/n.
As her eyes searched his eyes, Remus took this moment to kiss her passionately and deeply. His breath, his tongue clashing with hers. His arms held her possessively. Remus smirked when Y/n broke the kiss with a gasp.
"You wanna mark me up or what?" He asked her with a shit eating grin, clearly enjoying the effect he had on her.
"Moony, I hate you." She finally got to roll her eyes.
With a chuckle, Remus said as he kept pressing kisses all over her face. "I love you too, dove."
A/N: Welp I tried my best. Please do tell me if you like it or hate it. REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED
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lovelykil · 8 months
Note
Dude you gotta make a Kyle version of him with a horny reader 🤭🤭 I was blushing the whole time reading the Kenny one
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I couldn't decide on a song so you have both 💁🏾‍♀️
─Headcanons─
kyle x reader older ver.
hc; horny reader dating Kyle
cw; nsfw :33
note; I was thinking abt making one for him after Kenny cs yes. I feel like I kinda got carried away with this 😭 but anyway ⤵
How the hell did he even managed to bag such a horny mf, while him, himself isn't really a horny guy 😭?
Okay well it sorta went like this
Before dating you guys were close friends (yes I always do the friend thing cs I can, u can't stop me)
You two were always together, he liked being around you so much Stan took notice, he got very jealous for a few weeks till he realized Kyle was crushing HARD on you so he had no other choice but to get over his childish behavior and root for his best friend
Now you on the other hand were also crushing hard on this dork, you found him funny, cute, silly, tall.. very tall oh lord
He's a whooping 6'1 or 6'2, he towers you. And god did that do it for you.
You liked looking up at him whenever he'd talk, listening to his (somewhat) deep voice (he has like a high pitched voice but still has a deep voice😭) while fantasizing about him pinning your small figure down to the sheets of your bed.
His slightly large slender pale hands traveling to your thighs, caressing them slowly as he goes down to look into your eyes, he gives you a warm smile before making contact with your lips he looks back at you for some consent. Once you nod your head he connects his cherry flavored lips with yours, holding your face carefully whilst he's in between your legs.
"And then– Y/n? Are you listening? Y/n!"
"Huh?? Oh what- what did you say? Sorry.."
You are not sorry. You want him to top your small body, hovering ontop of you and thrust his length deep inside you as he praises you for taking him so good.
uhhmm anyway 😋..
Long story short one day you got the balls to ask him out, ask your bestfriend out.
At FIRST you were going confess to him over text.. but then you didn't wanna be a pussy, he was special, too special to send a lousy confession text to. You wanted him to see your genuine feelings for him in person, so that's exactly what you did.
After like 10+ failed attempts to tell him cause you were too nervous.
You fantasize about him fucking you but can't tell the man you LIKE him?
Oh my god
Literally after school came and you were just going to give up when he approached you, his shakey hands latching onto your shoulders in a nervous mess.
"Uhh Kyle are you okay?"
"Look I LIKE you, I like you alot, and I- uhm- I.."
"Oh my gosh- I like you too, please just shut up and kiss me now, like.. right NOW."
he took a moment to process before kissing you.
He's so CUTEE, his lips did infact take like cherry lip balm.
Now you two were together.. all the things you imagined with him...
Kyle did not know what he got himself into LMAO
It's cause you never mentioned any sexual stuff before well I mean sometimes you did, laughed and shit but it wasn't something he wouldn't think much of. Until now.
Oh wow you were now so uncontrollably horny around him, asking for a kiss 24/7 putting his hand in between your legs whenever you guys sat next to each other, whispering nasty stuff into his ear that made his face red as tomato.
It drives him CRAZY, (the good and bad mostly good or..)
There was this one time you sent him something very questionable, which meant something likeee nudes.
You sent him nudes.
It was just for funnsiez 🤷🏾‍♀️
He was all excited that you texted him back too then all of a sudden he opens his phone to see a very explicit picture of yourself in your favorite lingerie or something, he'd never turned red so fast setting his phone down in a HEART BEAT.
btw he was eating dinner with his family.
"Kyle, What'd I say about phones at the table."
"Sorry mom- I..uhm Y/n texted me."
"Oh! What'd she sa-"
"Nothing- she sent nothing. Anyway, this food is REALLY good ma, like woww."
Bro was PANICKING. 😞
Just know Kyle called you later and scolded you well tired he just ended up growing a boner mid-argument when he thought about the picture.
Speaking of boners
He never knew he could get so horny so much around you, just listening to your voice gets him turned on. When he feels it he gets so embarrassed, and guilty.
He loves you for youu but hormones are wild sometimes.
Your hormones on the other hand are insane, you're always horny for him and not afraid to tell him or even show him. You love him for him of course but GOD you just want his slender fingers inside you.
One day you two were watching a movie together in Kyle's room, with the exception of the door being opened by at least 3 inches.
Shelia doesn't mind your company she's grown a liking to you, but leave 2 teenagers alone in a bedroom and.. yeah so there was no arguing about that
But do you really think 3 INCHES was going to stop you?
No.
:3
During the movie your mind was else where, thinking about the most erotic scenarios with your boyfriend as possible, you could feel your pussy throb in your clothed panties. Your breath grew hot, as you leaned on Kyle your thighs rubbed against each other trying to relieve yourself a little but it wasn't enough.
Kyle took notice of your constant squirming, his hands finding its way around your waist slowly he then asked what was wrong in a low concerned whisper.
Once his hands found your waist it was all over from there, the gut wrecking butterflies flew into your stomach fluttering their way downward. You sat up and turned your body around to face him.
"I need to suck your dick right now."
"🧍"
"🧍🏾‍♀️"
"Turn around and watch the movie"
"Kyle- PLEASE"
"No."
"WHY"
"Well one the door is OPEN, two my MOTHER, and three NOOOO"
You took his hand and held it with yours, begging him, he looked at you like you were damn crazy, but blushing like crazy cause what the hell 😭
"Please I swear I'll be fast, I just desperately need you right now Kyle.."
Oh wow that did it for him, your whines and pleas for him made him hard.
He looked at you then at the door, his head screamed no but his body ached for your touch. He looked at you and sighed he held onto your hand pulling you toward him.
He neared your ear going in to whisper something.
"Alright, be a good girl and get on your knees for me, okay?" He leaned away, still holding onto your hand once he saw your face he slightly smirked, even though he was actually dying from embarrassment inside he knew it worked when he saw the flushed and yet shocked expression on your face when he pulled away.
"Woah- how'd you.. like-"
"You liked that didn't you?" He leaned close to you, growing slightly more confident.
You giggled stupidly, getting lost in his voice you loved, moving in.
"Yeah a bit, do it againn."
"Be a good girl and kiss me, yeah?"
"Okay yeahh." Kyle chuckled his smile going into the kiss, you smiled as well but soon stopping from the now serious make-out session starting. He let you lay him down slowly onto the pillows, your hand finding his face for the kiss to deepen.
A muffled moan escaped from your mouth right before you pulled away for air, your tounge no longer in touch with his. You panted, sitting on his lap he huffed slowly looking at you in the semi dark room. The only light source was the TV behind you.
"You ready?" You asked, at last catching your breath. He simply nodded, his face a tint pink. You smiled and kissed his nose lastly before going down on him.
Kyle checked the door once more then slipped off his sweat pants, you helping him underneath the blanket. When you came in contact with his boxers you slowly pulled them off and out sprung his member, hard just for you.
You slipped out underneath the blanket with a giggle "You're hard as fuck Ky, you reallyy must want me." You teased.
Kyle looked away with a flushed expression, he shoved you lightly back under the blanket.
"You're the one who got me like this.. asshole."
"You're so cutee."
You lightly tapped on his cock watching it twitch before tucking some hair behind your ear and taking him in. Once you had him in your mouth you bopped your head at a slow pace, your eyes closing. The ginger bit his lip down, his eyes closing on their own from the pleasure he was in.
His hands gripped his sheets when you picked up the pace, he let out a faint moan trying not to make any noise. If you could see his face he looked so cute, his eyes half-lided, mouth slightly agape with hot air escaping from it and some tears stinging his eyes.
He shifted some bit when you took him in whole, your tongue sliding against his dick in such a magnificent way that he couldn't help but whine loud. He held his mouth with his hand quickly after, but still failling to keep his voice down.
He threw his head back, his eyes rolling back he wanted to moan out loud so bad but he couldn't all he could do was try to hold in his pathetic whines from his mom so she wouldn't come into the room.
From below you could hear his muffled moans and whines you could feel yourself burn in heat, your cunt almost dripping. You rubbed yourself to his moans, feeling the euphoria flow inside you as you fingered yourself through your clothed temple.
You continued to suck him off wanting to hear him more even if he had his hand covering his mouth, this whole situation of trying to do sexual acts while his parents are around and trying not to get caught made you excited and hot inside.
As you made your way up and down his dick you felt his hand make its way ontop of your head, he lightly ran his fingers throughout your hair or kept it there hearing him whisper something.
"Oh.. shit you're doing so good y/n.. please keep going baby.." (oh my god)
Once you heard that sentence come from his mouth you blushed hard.. picking the pace up about ready to make this man cum inside your mouth, you wanted to swallow his warm seed and show him just to tell you what a good girl you were for doing so.
But we all can't get what we want now can we?
Some creak foot steps neared towards the door after a few minutes passed by from what Kyle last said that made you explode with butterflies. Despite Kyle being in such immense pleasure to the point his mouth was watering and his eyes tearing up he still kept alert and once he heard that creak he whispered yelled to you to get the HELL up QUICK.
"Y/n HURRY get UP FAST FAST FAST–"
"Whwat? why?" You replied, his dick still in your mouth.
"My MOM"
You suddenly stopped, peeking out of the blanket. "Oh shit."
You immediately rushed out from under the blanket almost falling ontop of Kyle to sit next to him, Kyle pulled up his boxers then his sweats quickly and grabbed his remote to the TV. You hurriedly sat beside him at a reasonable distance watching the TV with Kyle.
Just right when the door opened you had to wipe some spit off your face before setting your hand down fast as Kyle's mom came in, doing the parent check in.
She flipped on the light switch, and saw the two of you sitting next to each other innocently watching TV, acting like you weren't just having her son whine and moan.
"You guys okay here?" She asked, squinting hard at you two. Kyle could practically feel his heart trying to escape from his chest he was so anxious all he could do was give her a thumbs up with a nervous smile. You also gave her a thumbs up, your smile not so nervous but somewhat kinda jumpy.
Shelia nodded her head slowly in approval, "Bedtime is at 10 Kyle, night you two." She stated before turning off the light and closing the door shut. You and Kyle listened to her foot steps slowly fade away before sighing a big relief.
You laughed from being slightly nervous, nudging him in the arm.
"That was close wasn't it?" You joked, feeling your heart race. Kyle just sided eyed you.
"Alright nevermind then.."
You two sat in silence for a second.. like a long second but eventually you heard him sigh, he went underneath the blanket seemingly like he was crawling towards you. You watched in confusion before he peeked out from the blanket in between your legs. His big curly hair getting all messy.
You pulled away the blanket off him to see him clearly.
"What are you doing?" You asked, feeling a smile creep on your face. "I wanna make you feel good now, can I?" He sat up and leaned into you he held your hip with one hand and the other your cheek.
"But I didn't finish-"
"It's okay don't worry about it, I just.. wanna hear you moan from my doing this time." He shyly looked away, he put his hand down.
You felt your heart melt and your pussy throb, damn he could do BOTH.
"Okay whatever you want Ky." You pecked his cheek that brought his attention back to you. He smiled, kissing you quickly then going underneath the sheets. You helped him pull off your pj pants and let him slowly pull of your panties.
"You ready?" He asked you, laying a soft kiss on your stomach.
You nodded your head with a butterfly sick smile.
"I'm readyy."
Most times he deals with your horny self cause it's now normal to him, it makes him blush all the time but he still somehow puts up with it.
Other times he physically ends up putting up with it 🤨
Let's just say this other time.. at a restaurant.
You were sitting by him, doing your usual teasing saying stuff like
"You look soo hot right now, I want your dick in my mouth."
He gives the craziest side eye, his face already red. You giggle to yourself and look through the menu infront of you. You two were waiting for Stan and Wendy to come since it was going to be a double date (Wendy's idea, she thought it would be cute)
Once they came you and Kyle greeted them, you smiled innocently ignoring the obscure thing you just said to Kyle a few minutes ago.
"Hey guys! Glad you came!" Wendy exclaimed, sitting her self down next to Stan. "Babe they were practically forced by you to com–"
"ANYWAY- have you guys ordered yet?" Wendy cut Stan off to which he zipped his mouth with a huff. You shook your head, setting down your menu for a second then putting it back up.
"No we were waiting for you guys so I guess we can order now." Kyle said, going to look at his menu. Wendy nodded her head she then grabbed a menu and shared it with Stan, the both looked at the menu together, distracted.
You decided to make another move, you put your hand on Kyle's thigh soon rubbing it up high to his crotch. Kyle's eyes widen but his eyes still remained on the menu. You snickered, leaning over towards him.
"I want youuu Kylee." You muttered into his ear behind the menu, Kyle closed his eyes as his cheeks redden he was growing extremely nervous and trying to remain calm but holy shit you were making it very.. hard for him.
Suddenly in his last moments were he was about to loose it he had an idea. He looked at you and grinned, leaning down some to tell you something.
"Keep up and watch what happens Y/n." His words sent a shiver down your spine considering how kinda serious and hot he sounded, you were both intrigued and nervous to what he meant you just looked at him a little surprised his eyes went back to his menu, not paying attention to you.
You scoffed, looking at your menu.
What could he possibly do in such a place?
The answer was going to revealed very soon and it was the LEAST thing you expected Kyle to do.
A few minutes went by and everyone had an idea to what their order was, there was small table chat happening you talked a little but soon you tuned out to think about.. other things. As Kyle and Stan laughed you thought about Kyle's hand tracing over your bare stomach making his way downward, he licked the both of his middle and ring finger, slowly sliding them into your temple he leaned into your face and kissed you passionately to block your moans from getting out.
You felt your region throb in your seat, you ached for it to be touched but it would have to wait till later.
You just had to fantasize about something erotic 😒..
You cursed to yourself, stopping your brain from making anymore scenarios. You sighed watching the 3 of them talk and laugh. You looked over at Kyle he seemed to be settling down his laughs, he took a sip from his drink.
Wait when the hell did the drinks get here?
Nevermind anyway, you thought about what he said but soon stopped you just shrugged it off and proceeded to mess with him. You scotted closer towards him, putting your leg over his.
You waited for his reaction but he gave you nothing, you frowned trying something else. An that's when an amazing idea popped in your head (the WORST idea you ever had)
You mindlessly slipped your hand underneath his shirt, rubbing his bare skin. Now he reacted to this. He almost spat out his drink and looked at you stunned.
You looked at him, quickly removing your hand. You shot an innocent smile to him and pretend like nothing happened.
"What?" You asked, knowing damn well what you were doing. Kyle kept a keen eye on you, un amongst to you what he was planning on doing now. He sighed taking his finger towards your region.
You watched in puzzlement to what he was going to do but quickly you knew what he was doing when he started to rub your clit on the outside of whatever you are wearing, it was already wet to the touch when he rubbed it.
He let out a slight snicker to that as you began to mumble words under your breath.
"What.. the fuck.. are you doing Kyle?"
"I told you if you did something, watch what happens. You need to listen." He whispered, his finger hitting your clit hard. You nearly gasped, gripping your menu.
"Hey Kyle you alright?" Stan asked his friend, grabbing his drink. Kyle turned his attention towards him, he then smiled sweetly "Yeah I'm fine anyway what were we talking about?" He said casually, un amongst to the two of them on the other side he was rubbing his girlfriends cunt making you slowly pant in your seat.
"Oh yeah so what are your plans for summer! It's right around the corner. What about you Y/n?" The girl in her purple hat asked you.
Must she had asked you at such a horrible time??
You looked at Kyle he had a smug look, still using two fingers to massage your pussy. You thought he stop, I guess not.
You breathed in trying to act normal, "I uhm I don't- er I don't know-! Maybe.. like.. uhh.. -uhm watching movies or like.. something?? Oh fucking shit." You told her, hoping you came off as normal as possible. You also gave her a wide smile despite her not knowing you were being played with under the table.
You twitched, as she looked at you weird. "Are you okay? You look all twitchy.." Wendy asked, her voice worried. Your fingers tapped on the table quickly, swallowing a large amount of saliva as Kyle's fingers began rub your clit fast, he looked at you with a sly smirk.
"Yeah are you okay Y/n?" Now it was you giving him the side eye.
"Yes.. im.. fine. Mmh.."
You thought you would be enjoying this but god it felt like torture, but it felt so good at the same time.
Now this one of the few ways he puts up with you 😊.
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unrequitedloveletter · 7 months
Note
Hi! Could I request an Aaron Warner x fem!reader where reader is always flustered when Aaron flirts with her and one day she flirts back with Kenji. Aaron is frustrated (and obv jealous), he didn’t know it was a joke between them and he confronts her about it. This time she’s the one teasing him cause he’s jealous and then LOVE CONFESSIONNN
Thank you!! And sorry if it’s too long
So Am I- A.W x fem! reader
All right, hi! Again, I am so sorry about how long this took and I hope you like it in spite of that.
As I did with your last request, this is a headcanon/fic combo--I wrote out the headcanons first and then turned the confession into a fic because writing it that way is just easier on me when my motivation is somewhat lacking lol
Fic type- this is fluff with angst but only if you squint
Warnings- none!
Okay, so!!
You and Kenji are exactly the kind of friends who flirt but like,, platonically
it's never anything too serious--at most, it's typically just stuff like: "Lookin' good, L/N!" or just random compliments, the occasional wink here or there
also, on another note, Kenji is definitely the type of person to either bring up or agree to marry his best friend if they're both still single at 30
it's lighthearted bantering that you guys do for the hell of it, and it generally gave you both a bit of a laugh so it brightened the mood significantly while you were with him when things got bad at Omega Point and stuff with the Resistance
HOWEVER
when Aaron flirts with you???
it's not platonic (you're in love with him)
it's never platonic (he's also very deeply in love with you)
you ALWAYS, ALWAYS get just a bit flustered around him
kenji teases you for it RELENTLESSLY too because he finds it to be the funniest thing in the world??
"C'mon, Y/N! Warner saying that your eyes look nice in the sun can't just be platonic. He's in love with you and he's flirting! Flirt back and let me officiate your wedding."
"Did Warner flirt with you again??" He asked one time as he caught Aarons back fading from view as he walked away and noticed you standing there, a loving look in your gaze as you watched him go. "Oh, shit, Y/N. You are in so deep."
Warner doesn't really know that you and Kenji flirt platonically, so when he does hear that for the first time, this is how it goes:
"Lookin' good, L/N!" Kenji called out as the two of you passed each other in a hallway, Kenji likely going to visit Castle while you were in search of his daughter.
"This from you, Kenji? You look flawless."
TO YOU, that was where the interaction ended--a bit of harmless flirting, words of encouragement to keep one another on your feet.
whereas warner?? warner was like "Okay, gotta confess my feelings now and see where that goes."
He, however, is a gentleman who finds you in your room that night, and the confession goes as well as Aaron could've hoped--better than that.
Aaron finds you in your room, back against the wall, blanket tossed over your lap and a book in hand. A candle had been lit to keep the room lit well after you were meant to have been sleeping, and when you saw him enter after knocking and you'd said it was fine, you gave him a grin and set the book in your lap.
"Hi," you greet. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Aaron says, closing the door behind him as he steps into the room. "I have something to talk about, is all."
You glance at your book, and Aaron has to fight a grin as he watches you grimace at the cover.
"This book sucks anyway," you tell him, nodding. "Say your peace, please. Anything to distract me from this god awful prose."
Aaron laughs, and your heart gives way to a funny little flip.
"I love you," he says, figuring it best to just rip the bandaid off. "I'm in love with you, and I have been practically since we met. I was content to just wallow in it forever but you and Kenji were flirting and my insecurities got the best of me, so here I am, pouring my heart out like some fool in a romance novel."
"Aaron," you say, laughing a little as you say his name. "Kenji and I aren't romantically involved, I promise. We flirt from time to time but that's just been something we've done all our friendship--it's kept spirits up in the worst of times because we find it hilarious. I'm in love with you too, and I tended not to engage with your flirting because every time you flirted, my heart kicked off into a racing pace and I almost forgot how to breathe."
Aaron can't help the way that his eyebrows raise or the surprised expression on his face, which makes you laugh and in turn makes his heart race just a bit.
"Do you want to stay the night?" You ask. "We can talk, maybe go to see if theres any tea left in the kitchens."
Aaron steps forward, takes your hands and sits down beside you on your bed, glad that he'd decided to change into sweatpants and a shirt before coming to confess his feelings.
"Kenji is going to lose his mind," you say, laughing a bit as Aaron wraps an arm around your shoulder and you let him pull you close. "He's been telling me to get on with it for a year at this point, to confess my feelings, but I've not found the strength. I was afraid I wouldn't adequately be able to put it into words."
Aaron presses a kiss to your forehead, laughing just a bit in turn.
"I didn't do so much better," he comments. "Glad I did it though."
You hum, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "So am I."
189 notes · View notes
xtrokeme · 7 months
Note
I am on my knees for Holland March or Driver content
Could be anything!
Ruined the moment
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A/N: i wanted to make it longer but got excited to post something !! for context let's say you're at a party like in the movie but not in the movie... small trigger warning for vomit and mentions of alcohol. another trigger warning is that i feel like i could've wrote this better
He didn't want you to stop, he really didn't.
The sweetness of your last drink lingering in your mouth and the softness of your red lips crushing against his. But oh, boy, he needed a break.
"Gi- give me a second, darling" he slightly pushed your body by your shoulders.
"What's wrong?" your eyes sleepy with alcohol like his, he took you by surprise.
"I'm having the time of my life but-" he tried to not close his eyes as you looked at Holland confused, worried, "I'd rather die than puke on your face" he jolted from the bathroom floor, trying his best to not knock you out and made his way (not worried if he tripped) to the toilet and emptied his stomach.
You sat down where he was a moment ago and fixed your dress that got up when you got in his lap, chuckling at the scene in front of you "I thought you thought you were making a mistake".
Holland kept throwing his insides before sitting on his knees, wiping his mouth with his sleeve he send her a dreamy smile "the mistake was drinking so much, I ruined the moment" his face hung by the toilet seat in case another round of alcohol started to leave his insides.
He felt so nauseous and oddly nervous. Nauseous: he had many drinks to relax and.. well, how could he say no to a whiskey? And nervous: earlier when you catched his eyes and made a move on him, he didn't think someone like you would start a conversation with him (not that he believes he doesn't have a chance), you are stunning but you took him by surprise.
"You haven't ruined anything, this situation is quite funny" few seconds passed and you made your way next to him "tell me if you need something" you made sure to express he wasn't alone.
"Water" you grabbed your drink by the floor and throw it, cleaned the inside in the sink and poured water. He drank it by short sips and some he spitted it out so his throat stopped burning, "you're so nice and pretty and I look awful... at least you're having fun" he chuckled starting to straighten, your hand went to his head and stroked his hair softly, "wait, that makes me dizzy" he pointed his face to the toilet seat and you pulled your hand away.
"my bad" he didn't throw up but kept his face there in case, "you're also nice and pretty, Holland" you sat behind him against the wall and he did the same, captivated by his name with the sound of your voice.
"Thanks for not leaving, that says a lot about you" he looked at you with a smile, he felt slightly fresh after that interlude to take some alcohol out.
"If I were you I'd like someone do the same for me" showing empathy reassured him and a spontaneous though formed; he wanted to stand by your side forever. It was a familiar feeling, one that once broke him, but god, it felt so good that jiggly bubble in his chest.
"Should I say what I'm thinking now that I have the courage?" courage= he's not fully sober.
"As long as it's something good" you grinned and nudged him trying to look cool, trying to forget how fast your heart was beating.
"I feel like you're made for me"
A/N²: requests are open, if you give me prompts the better, maybe you noticed english is not my native language but i try anyway<3
198 notes · View notes
stardustbarbarians · 1 month
Text
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Enchanted
A Daniel Wagner / Samuel Kiszka fic
Summary: Sometimes it takes some meddling to see what is right in front of you.
Tags: fluff, love spell au, very light angst, low-key funny
Words: 10.8 k
Author's Note: Happy (late) Valentine's Day!! I literally got the idea for this one the day of the holiday and proceeded to write this, thinking it would be at max like 2,000 words. So, yeah, this one kinda got away from me. Anyway, this is dedicated to @ofthecaravel for being more enthusiastic about this idea than I was (she also made the cover pic so everyone say thank you, Karou). Title taken from Enchanted by Taylor Swift. Please enjoy!! <3
+++
When Danny had the idea to go to the art fair near his house, he hadn’t thought he’d be walking away with an honest to god love potion. I mean, those aren’t real, right?? It’s all just made up for awful rom-coms and Disney movies. So, when that witchy woman had stopped him and gave it to him for free, he thought nothing of it. 
He had been weaving through the various booths, eyes catching on all the colorful and sometimes gaudy wares these artists were trying to pedal. Some of them were honestly good, others were just clearly trying to make a quick buck. Danny bought a few things; a few jewelry pieces he thought were cute and a fresh squeezed lemonade. 
“Danny?” a woman had spoken up, catching the drummer’s attention. He tensed up at being called out, hoping he wouldn’t be recognized but knowing it was always a possibility every time he left his house. 
Schooling his features to be warm and inviting, Daniel turned on his heel to face the woman. She was what Danny could only describe as a “contemporary witch”, complete with long, black hair and a revealing yet classy black dress and a wide-brimmed black hat. Danny had to suppress his scoff at how on the nose she looked, glancing around her clearly witch-themed, yet populated, booth. But, it clearly worked to help sell her goods, so who was he to judge. 
“Hey!” he responded, abandoning his wandering and making his way over to her. She smiled widely at him, her eyes lighting up as he approached. 
“Oh, my god. My friends are never gonna believe me,” she rushed, her tattooed hands fluttering to her chest. 
“How about we get a picture to prove it to them?” he offered, having gone through this enough times over the years to know that that was what most people were after when they spotted him. 
She nodded, searching frantically for her phone. When she pulled it out from behind the register, Daniel noticed two things. One; her hands were shaking. Two; her lock screen was a picture of him and Sam posed together. It was a picture of them on stage, embracing and beaming at one another and - wow, is that really what he looks like when he smiles at Sam? 
They took their picture, her asking for a hug from him which he happily gave her. 
“So, what brings you over this way?” the woman - ironically named Greta - asked, leaning against the table she had set her register up on. Danny worried for a second as her long hair passed over a candle, only for him to realize it wasn’t real. 
“Had a free afternoon to myself, thought I’d check the art fair out,” he answered honestly, a shrug of his shoulders tacked on at the end. 
She nodded acceptingly. “Find anything interesting?” 
Danny held up his fingers, wiggling them to show off the rings he purchased as well as shook his cup of lemonade in front of her, smiling. She laughed, her head tipping back a bit to show off a moth tattoo that rested under her clavicles. 
“That’s all, huh? You must be pretty picky.” She looked him up and down, her eyes feeling strangely like they were able to see past his physical form. Danny blamed that on the witch-themed booth she ran. 
Danny shrugged again. He didn’t think he was, but then again maybe he was. 
“Here,” she blurted out, jumping up from her perch to brush past him to go deeper into her booth. Daniel watched as she stopped in front of a display of bowls that held vials of various shapes and sizes. Each one was sorted by color, some of them even seeming to glow which made Daniel do a double take. There was probably just a light fixed at the base of the bowl to give them that effect. 
“On the house,” Greta chirped before tossing something at Daniel. He instinctively caught it, letting out a breath of relief that he had. When he got a proper look at it, Danny realized that she had thrown him a vial of baby pink liquid that had been sealed in a teardrop shaped glass vial. The top was a gradient into Barbie pink and formed to a point, sharp enough to probably kill a man. Daniel turned it over in his hand, the liquid sparkling in the light of the sun streaming in through an opening in the tent he was in. 
“What is this?” he dumbly asked, already knowing what the hell it was. 
“A love potion,” Greta flippantly answered. When Danny snapped his head up to look at the woman, he saw the mischievous glint in her eye that never reached her soft smile. 
Daniel coughed on his own spit as he swallowed wrong. He covered it up by taking a few sips of his lemonade. He had no idea how to react to that. 
“Uhh… that’s really kind of you, but I can’t take this.” 
“Nonsense. I insist,” she pressed, waving off his concerns with a wave of her hand. 
Daniel looked back and forth between the woman and the vial in his hand, weighing the pros and cons. Then he realized how ridiculous he was being. It was a kind gesture and love potions weren’t real. 
He tucked the vial into his pocket of his jean jacket and smiled. “Thanks!” 
“My pleasure,” she answered, that devilish gleam back in her eye as well as that feeling that she was seeing through him rather than at him, “and trust me, you will be thanking me later.” 
That made Daniel chuckle a bit nervously. She was starting to creep him out a bit; time to make a quick exit. 
“Right, well. Maybe I’ll see you at one of our upcoming shows!” Danny politely suggested, already backing out the way he had come in. 
“Of course! Talk to you later!” Greta’s last sentence sent a shiver up Danny’s spine. It felt like a promise rather than a send off. 
With one last quick smile, Danny got his ass out of there and trotted down the booths to get away. He definitely wanted to toss that so-called “love potion” away now. There was no telling what was actually in it. He’d just throw it into the next trash can he saw. 
+++
Daniel did not toss it away. Instead, he forgot about it completely and left it in his jacket pocket. It stayed there for a month, silently waiting for the next time someone would wear that jacket and find it. 
“Hey, Dan!” Danny was in his kitchen taking some ibuprofen for the headache he was fighting when he heard Sam call out for him. 
With a big gulp and a gag he didn’t even try to suppress as he felt the pills catch on the side of his throat, Danny responded with a shout of his own. “Yeah?!” 
“Can I borrow a jacket?! It’s cold as balls out and I don’t have one!” 
Setting his empty glass of water in the sink, Daniel ran a hand through his curls. Sam had stopped over at Danny’s before the band’s scheduled studio time so the two of them could carpool. 
“Yeah!” he shouted back. He went through a mental checklist to make sure he had everything he needed before he left, adding Sam to the bottom of that list. 
“What the fuck is this in your pocket?!” Sam called out again, breaking through Danny’s concentration. 
“I don’t know! I’m not over there!” 
It was quiet again for a moment, Danny quickly going through his checklist again as he passed by his laundry room to grab some socks from the pile. 
“Can I drink it?!” 
Daniel, starting to get a little frustrated by Sam’s antics already, huffed out in exasperation. 
“Go ahead!” he screamed harsher than he had meant to. But, really, how the hell was Daniel meant to know what the fuck Sam was talking about. It probably was a shot of fireball or something he never drank. And if Sam wanted to be tipsy while they recorded… Well, it wouldn’t be the first time. 
“It tastes like bubblegum!” Sam excitedly exclaimed, his voice louder as Danny was just around the corner from where he was stationed by the front door. 
“That’s great, buddy,” Daniel dismissed, walking past him briefly as he went to grab his sticks from the living room. Doing the pat down on his pockets to make sure he had his keys and wallet, Daniel finally rounded the corner to his front door only to see Sam sprawled out on the ground. 
“Sam?” Danny cautiously asked, hoping Sam was just being theatrical over how long Danny was taking to leave. 
But then he didn’t answer. Or move, for that matter. 
“Sammy?!” Daniel was distraught now, tossing his sticks to the side as he kneeled down next to Sam to shake him. 
He still wasn’t stirring, but at least his chest was moving. Daniel frantically searched for a pulse, lifting up his hand to check his wrist. That was when he spotted the nearly empty teardrop shaped vial in Sam’s hand and Danny’s heart sank even further. 
“No no no no-” Danny chanted under his breath, pressing his fingers into Sam’s wrist. His heart rate slowed a bit when he was able to feel Sam’s pulse in his fingertips. He sighed deeply, feeling his shoulders sag in relief. 
“C’mon, Sammy,” Danny implored, grabbing his friend by the shoulders and began to shake him. It wasn’t hard, but it was enough to make his head loll around his shoulders. 
When that didn’t work, Danny bit his lip as his brow knit together. He had an idea, but he’d feel awful for going through with it. With another sigh, Daniel resigned himself to it. 
“I’m sorry, Sam,” he murmured, pulling his right hand off the bassist’s shoulder. He reared it back and smacked it smartly against his friend’s cheek. Cringing at how loud the slap resounded in the echo-y chamber of his vestibule, Daniel smoothed his hand back over the pink mark blossoming on Sam’s face. 
It worked, to Danny’s utter relief. 
Sam’s eyes fluttered open as Daniel caressed his fingers across the angry outline of his hand, groaning as he lifted his hand to his forehead. 
“What the hell happened?” Sam grumbled out, sitting up on his own. Danny sat back onto his heels, raking his eyes over Sam to check for any signs of danger. 
“You drank the vial in my jacket and passed out, I guess,” Daniel tried to explain, the concern leaking through his tone. Sam still had yet to look at Danny, his eyes having shut once more as he sat fully upright. 
Huffing out a laugh, Sam looked at the vial in his hand, a drop of that baby pink liquid slipping out of the opening and splattering onto the floor. He turned it over in his fingers a few times before he spoke again. “Hell of a rush.” 
Daniel couldn’t help but snort, his worries easing significantly at the joke. Sam was going to be ok. Maybe a little groggy, but ok. That Greta girl should count herself lucky nothing worse had happened to Sam or else he’d bring down hell around her ears for hurting his best friend. 
“Alright, Sam. Let’s get you up or else we’ll be late for studio time,” Danny grunted out as he hauled Sam up to his feet by his arm. 
“Right, right,” Sam quietly answered, his hair flying out around him as he shook his head to presumably clear it. 
And that was when Sam looked at Danny for the first time since he fell. 
“I’m so fucking in love with you.” 
+++
“Hey, guys, we might want to reschedule.” 
“Yeah? And why is that?” Jake was the first one to look over at Daniel. And when he did, Danny watched as his entire body went rigid as his eyes flew wide open. 
“Something wrong- oh my god.” That was Josh, this time. And just like Jake, Josh’s eyes got comically wide as he took in the sight of Danny and Sam. 
And Daniel really couldn’t blame them. He’d have the same reaction if he saw his little brother clinging onto his best friend as if his life depended on it. 
Sam had long since jumped into Danny’s arms, his arms and legs wrapped around Daniel as if he were a monkey and Daniel his favorite tree. He had refused to get down, Danny having tried to fight him in the parking lot before entering the studio to get him to walk on his own, but Sam was having none of it. Even on the drive over, Sam had tried to climb into Danny’s lap a few times all while gushing about how pretty he thought Danny was. He finally got Sam to stay in his seat after promising to hold his hand as he drove. But as soon as they stepped out of the car, it was no holds barred. 
“What the hell is he doing?” Jake asked, his eyes still locked onto his baby brother’s strange behavior. 
“I’m holding the love of my life!” Sam answered for Daniel. And if Daniel’s face wasn’t burning before, he was certain it was set ablaze by that. And the worst part was Daniel could tell Sam was using a genuine tone. 
He watched the twins look between the two rhythm section members, their lips pursing as they took in the sight. Daniel wanted to hide his face in his hands, but they were currently holding his obnoxious best friend so he couldn’t. 
“Oooooooooo-k. Umm, what the fuck is going on?” Josh had abandoned his station at his microphone, setting the equipment down on a chair to his left before he joined Jake at his side. 
Danny sighed, his eyes closing in shame. He wanted to look everywhere else but at the twins and their calculating and bewildered gazes. 
“You wouldn't believe me if I told you.” Daniel let out a squeak after he spoke, Sam surprising him with kisses he placed on the side of Danny’s neck where his head was nuzzled. He tried to pull away, but Sam just chased after him with his lips. 
“Try us,” Josh answered, his arms crossing over his chest as his hip popped out. Jake was idly fiddling with his guitar, probably not even aware that he was playing at all, but his eyes never left Danny. 
With a deep sigh, Daniel launched into the story of Greta and her stupid fucking love potion. While he was explaining, he knew his story sounded made up. I mean, for god’s sake, the titular character shared the name of their band. It just sounded like he was caught in a lie. The only thing he knew would work in his favor was the potion vial that he had the foresight of bringing with him. 
It was a fight, but Daniel was able to wrangle Sam off of him and set his feet on the floor. However, the man still refused to let go of him completely. So Daniel had to live with Sam resting his head on his shoulder and wrapping his arms around Danny’s torso. With his hands finally free, Daniel was able to fish that vial out of his pocket and toss it over to the twins. 
Josh caught it, Jake watching it sail over towards his twin with his eyes. Daniel watched as they inspected it, the baby pink liquid still shimmering in the light. He pointedly ignored Sam and his embarrassing antics. Or, at least he tried to. It was very hard when he kept peppering kisses all over Danny’s cheek and neck as he spoke sweet nothings into his ear. Danny felt shivers dance their way across his skin, his veins warming at all the contact and compliments. But he refused to indulge in them. Sam was not himself right now and he would be damned if he was going to take advantage of him. But, they still felt nice. 
After a few seconds of turning over the evil liquid, Josh tossed it back over to Daniel. 
“Alright,” Jake started, pulling the cord out of his guitar, “we believe you.” 
“Really?” Danny was truly bewildered. He thought the twins were going to think it was some kind of stupid prank they were trying to pull on them. He was actually relieved they did. 
“Yeah. We’ve never seen Sam act this way before. Plus he’s a dog shit actor,” Josh answered, a laugh escaping his lips after the last sentence. Danny had to agree; he’d seen the movies Josh had made where Sam was the lead. There weren’t that many. 
“Oh, thank god. Because I need help.” Daniel’s tone was desperate, his hands trying to pull Sam’s off his waist. But every time he tried, Sam would just slide them back into place. He eventually gave up, huffing in resignation as Sam giggled in his ear. “Yeah, I’m gonna be honest with you on this one. I don’t know where we’ll even start,” Jake bluntly pointed out, placing his guitar on its stand. 
“What if you two try to contact the people who organized the fair and see if you can find the woman who sold me the…” God help him, “...the potion.” 
“Yeah, alright. What are you going to do?” Josh was already pulling out his phone, not looking at Danny as he spoke. 
“I’m going to see if maybe she posted that picture and contact her that way,” Daniel explained, having to shove Sam’s hips away from his own in order to get his phone from his back pocket. 
“Sounds like a plan. But how about we don’t do this here,” Jake posited, his eyes sliding over to where their producer and mixer were watching raptly as Sammy placed yet another series of kisses onto Danny. 
They all agreed. They wanted to spare both men as much embarrassment as possible and also minimize the possibility of this leaking and sending the wrong message to their fan base. 
Daniel offered up his house considering it was the closest. 
“And I’ll drive lovebug here, too.” Danny hooked his thumb towards where Sammy’s face was pressed into the side of Danny’s, a dopey smile on his face as he nuzzled deeper into Danny. 
“I don’t think you have a choice,” Josh so helpfully pointed out, trying poorly to suppress a laugh. 
“Yeah, ha ha. Let’s go,” Daniel sharply ordered, trying once more to rip Sam’s arms off of him and failing. 
“No, no, wait. Let us get one video for blackmail,” Jake quickly requested, already having his phone out and pointed at the two. 
Danny, knowing that there was no way they’d relent, groaned and let Jake record his misery. 
“Alright, Sammy. Tell us how you feel about Daniel,” Jake prompted, the laugh in his voice barely contained. The youngest perked up at the question, his smile getting brighter. 
“Well, where do I even begin! There’s so much I feel about him,” Sam cooed, resting his chin against Danny’s shoulder as he spoke. Danny felt Sam’s hair slip off his own shoulder as Sam tilted his head to get a better look at Danny. 
“Why don’t you start with the physical,” Josh, that bastard, piped up. Danny shot him a glare, Josh only responding with an “innocent” smile. 
“Oh! That’s easy! He’s got these beautiful dark eyes that you can easily get lost in. They’re this gorgeous shade of amber brown that have this nice green in them that remind me of moss in the forest. Oh! And when they catch the light just right they’re so bright and I get butterflies. And speaking of butterflies, when he smiles at me I can’t help but feel like I’m going to pass out from how beautifully warm and overwhelming it is-” 
“Alright,” Danny squeaked out, his voice cracking as his face began to heat up, “that’s enough.” 
“No, no, we’re just getting to the good part. Sam, what else about Danny do you like?” Danny bared his teeth at Jake. He knew it was ineffective, what, with his face burning as bright as a stop light. 
“Oh, his arms are really nice. I love it when he picks me up because then I can feel them flexing and it makes me all dizzy.” Sam’s voice was dripping in honey. It was so sweet it made Danny’s stomach ache. 
“Really? And what about his freckles?” 
“One of his best features, definitely. They get all dark and prominent in the summer when he gets more sun. He’s got 137 of them!” 
“Alright that’s-” 
“And what about Danny’s personality?” 
“He’s the sweetest guy ever! I swear, he’s so sweet he gives me cavities. Like this one time, I was feeling really down in the dumps and then Danny went out of his way to get me a case of my favorite beer and made me laugh so hard I nearly pissed myself. He just knows me sooooo well. And also he takes care of Rose the best and he is always so gentle and loving with her… what isn’t there to love?” 
“Ok, show’s over. We’re done here,” Daniel firmly decided, reaching out to yank Jake’s phone away from him and end the recording, holding it out of Jake’s reach as he tried to grab it back from him. 
Danny tossed it back at him when he was done, watching the guitarist nearly fumble the device to the ground. He shot Danny a confused look at his shift in mood, but he didn’t respond. He simply held onto Sam’s arms as he turned the two of them around and made for the door. 
As they walked to the car, Daniel pointedly did not think about the fact that Sam apparently just seemed to know how many freckles Danny had off the top of his head. Or how that made his heart flutter within his chest. 
+++
The car ride back was considerably less dangerous than the drive over; Sam hadn’t tried to climb into Danny’s lap since he preemptively laced their fingers together. However, Sammy hadn’t stopped talking. And it wasn’t his usual babbling, no. It was much worse. 
“I love you.” 
“I know.” 
“I love you.” 
“I know.” The shock of it had worn off at the thirtieth time Sammy had confessed it to Danny, that first time making the drummer jump out of his skin. Now it was just getting annoying, like the beep of a smoke detector. 
“You’re really hot,” Sam giggled, leaning his head across the consul and bumping it into Danny’s shoulder. 
Danny just groaned, throwing his head into the headrest behind him and asking god what he did wrong to deserve this cruel and unusual punishment. It was one thing to toy with his destiny, it was another entirely to play around with his emotions. 
“I hope we fucking crash,” he whined, the light turning green and taking his foot off the brake. 
“I hope we fuck.” 
Daniel felt his foot involuntarily slam down on the gas, forcing the both of them to jerk back in their seats as the engine loudly revved like an animal letting out a warning growl. Danny whipped his head over to Sam briefly, taking in his lashes batting flirtatiously and his wolfish grin. The driver felt his heart pounding in his chest, ripping his eyes away from his distracting passenger and forcing himself to look at the road. 
“What?” he croaked out, not really wanting to hear it again but also wanting to know if he heard Sam right. 
“You heard me,” was all Sam spoke in response, a dangerously flirtatious edge to his words that made Danny’s heart lurch in his chest. 
“Just… Just keep those thoughts to yourself, ok?” 
“Ok!” Sam cheerfully agreed, settling back down onto Danny’s shoulder. That was another thing about this that was driving Daniel slowly insane: Sam did almost everything Danny asked of him. 
He was so, utterly fucked. 
+++
“Ok, so Greta must be a popular name among artists or something because the fair organizer said there were about thirty booths registered under that name,” Jake explained after hanging up the phone. He tapped his pen on the pad of paper he’d been writing on idly, turned towards Danny’s spot on his couch. Sammy had tackled him onto it, curling up right against his chest like an oversized dog and refused to move. 
“Did she give you the list of businesses, too?” Danny asked, having to crane his neck to look over at Jake. 
“Yeah, and I was able to cross off a few of them already,” Jake answered, swiping away at his phone again.
“Nice work,” Danny praised, his eyes darting back to his phone. He and Josh had taken on scrolling through Danny’s instagram mentions in order to try and find the famed Greta. And, Jesus, people really loved tagging him in shit. They had been at it for hours and were still only finding posts from about two weeks ago. 
“Is this her?” Josh hoisted his phone up into Danny’s field of view. Danny squinted as he analyzed the woman’s face. 
“No,” he groaned, his frustration mounting as they had zero luck. 
It wasn’t that he didn’t like Sam like this, it was just… It was too much. Yeah, maybe Danny had been dreaming about this exact scenario for years, but this wasn’t how he wanted to get it. He’d felt guilt slam into him with every touch Sam bestowed upon him as he remembered that Sam wasn’t in control of his actions. It was that stupid fucking potion that was making Sam all cuddly and cute; the normal Sam would never do that. The normal Sam wouldn’t repeatedly confess his love for Danny in a myriad of ways, or kiss his neck and cheeks, or cling to him every second of the day. No matter how badly Danny wanted it to be true, Sam just wasn’t in love with Danny like the drummer was in love with the bassist. 
And that was the time that Sam decided to stir just enough to burrow deeper into his embrace with Daniel, grumbling something under his breath that was reminiscent of a cat purring. And just like it never happened, Sam fell back asleep again. Danny watched for a bit too long as Sam’s chest rose and fell with each even breath he took, his face held in a content smile as he dreamed away. 
“Man, I haven’t seen him curled up with someone like that since we were kids,” Josh commented, taking a break from his endless scrolling to crack his neck and stretch. He had watched the whole thing, Sam’s stirring and Daniel’s flush creeping onto his face as he gazed down at the cozy bass player. 
“What do you mean?” Danny had moved his own phone out of the way to properly look at Josh. The man had taken to sitting on the floor with his back against the couch that Sam and Danny were laying on. 
“The last time he looked that content while sleeping was probably when he was about eight-ish; that was when he stopped taking naps with mom,” the singer explained, his eyes cast upwards as if searching the farthest reaches of his mind. 
“What, are you calling me his mother?” Daniel felt his face pinch into one of disgust as he remembered what Sam had sprung on him during the ride over. 
“No, what he’s saying is Sam has always liked to cuddle, but only feels comfortable doing it with certain people,” Jake clarified, not even bothering to look up from his notepad. 
“Yeah, he’s never done that with us. And, now that I think about it, he’s never done that with his girlfriends, either. At least, from what I’ve seen, anyway,” Josh added, rambling just a tad at the end. He even brought his hand up to his chin as he thought, his fingers stroking the hair on it absently. 
Daniel had no idea what to do with that particular bit of information, so he elected to shove it into his mental box labeled “The Sam Incident” to be ignored until further notice. It was starting to become alarmingly full. 
He went back to his scrolling, his eyes beginning to burn with how long he’d been staring at the screen. He wasn’t aware that he’d taken to running his fingers through Sam’s hair and absently playing with it as he focused on finding the proverbial needle in a haystack. 
Right when he was about to take a break and grab something to eat, he spotted her. 
“AHA!” he exclaimed, bolting upright and rudely jolting Sam out of his peaceful slumber. The bassist even grumbled, rubbing at his eyes and shooting a grumpy look at his personal pillow for the violent awakening. Danny felt the sympathy ache in his chest for Sam, rubbing a soothing and apologetic hand over Sam’s arm. Though, with how frizzy and staticky his hair looked, Daniel had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at Sam. 
“You found her?” the twins asked simultaneously, Danny feeling briefly like he was in The Shining as they both gave him the same expression as he looked between them. 
Daniel nodded his head, turning his phone around to show the others. Sam took the opportunity to sleepily and unceremoniously flop himself down against the drummer’s chest face first, wrapping his arms around his waist. Danny instinctively placed his hand onto his back to steady him, rubbing it as Sam mumbled something into his chest that Danny could not understand. 
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Jake, ever the impatient one, urged Daniel. He pushed away from the table he was stationed at, making his way over to lean over the back of the couch to watch the drummer’s screen. 
danielrwagner: Hey, so uhhh
danielrwagner: This is going to be a strange question but
danielrwagner: Are you the woman who gave me a vial at an art show a month or so back? 
Daniel had set his phone down onto the couch, figuring he’d have to wait a while for a response - if he ever got one, that is. What he didn’t expect was for his phone to buzz almost immediately afterwards. 
StarshineGreta: Hi Danny!
StarshineGreta: Yes, that was me
StarshineGreta: Why did someone drink it? 
danielrwagner: Yeah
StarshineGreta: Who was it?
Daniel swallowed nervously, glancing down at Sammy who was still wedged into his chest and showing no signs that he was moving anytime soon. 
danielrwagner: …Sam
Call from StarshineGreta 
“Guys, what should I do?” Daniel panicked, his heart rate kicking up in speed inside his chest as his ringtone started to cheerfully chirp in his hand. He frantically looked back and forth between the twins, looking for their help. 
“Answer it!” Josh screeched, his thunderous voice that Daniel normally heard echoing through stadium speakers just as loud and commanding in his living room. 
With a nervous bite of his lip, Danny did as he was told. 
“Hey, Greta. Just so you know, you're on speaker with… with the whole band,” Daniel greeted, making sure to give her the courtesy of knowing that everyone could hear her. But, it seemed that she didn’t even register what he had said. Instead, she launched right into it. 
“Alright, how long ago did he drink it and what are his symptoms?” Her voice was nearly clinical if it weren’t for the clear enthusiasm dripping off her words. 
“He drank it at about ten this morning-” 
“And he’s acting like a lovesick puppy and won’t leave Daniel alone,” Josh interjected, leaning over so that he was closer to the phone to be heard. Though that wasn’t really necessary since the man had shouted, anyway. 
“Yeah, Sam won’t stop touching and cuddling him and if he tells him to quit it he gets all mopey and sad,” Jake added, flashing Danny a grin that Daniel merely glared at. She really didn’t need to know all that. 
The beat of silence that followed made Danny’s nerves spike into the stratosphere. What he didn’t know was that Greta had merely muted her own mic so that she could laugh as boisterously as she wanted to without being heard. 
“Interesting. And how much did he drink?” 
“Pretty much the whole thing. There’s about an eighth or so left in the bottle, I’d guess,” Daniel informed, feeling as if the vial in his pocket got heavier as he thought about it. 
“Wow. Ok, wow. No wonder he’s so clingy,” Greta replied, her surprise seeping into her tone. 
“I wouldn’t call him that-” 
“Dan. Try standing up.” 
Giving Jake a disgruntled look, Daniel tried exactly as suggested. As he did, Sam’s arms tightened around Sam and pulled him back down towards him. “Nooooooooo,” he had whined out in protest, his brow knitting together in a grumpy frown once more as he looked up at Danny through his lashes. 
“No,” he said again, this time more firm and accented by Sam’s grip readjusting around Danny’s ribs to pull himself even tighter against Danny’s chest. 
When Daniel looked over at the younger twin, he was met with a small yet smug smile of victory. 
“Shut up,” he lamely shot back, wanting to cross his arms over his chest but being prevented by a certain bass player. Instead, he just settled his free arm back onto Sam’s back right below where his hair stopped in the middle of his spine. 
“Is it a problem that he drank so much?” Josh asked, completely ignoring the exchange that happened between Jake and Daniel. 
“Not really, no. The effects will just be stronger than if he had just drank the recommended amount,” Greta explained. 
“Will it last longer?” Daniel quickly interjected, the horrifying thought of having to deal with Sam acting like this for a month causing panic to lance through his heart. 
“I don’t think so. Maybe a few extra hours, but it should be worn off by tomorrow evening.” 
“And how come your potion actually works? Like, why isn’t yours bullshit like the other ‘love potions’ out there?” Jake so delicately questioned. 
“Normally, most of mine are but… well…” Daniel did not like how her tone shifted from confident to apprehensive, “I won’t sugar coat it. The potions I make are meant to amplify what emotions are already inside someone. They can’t manufacture love or hate or happiness if they don’t already exist in the person who drank it.” 
After she finished her explanation, the room went silent. Daniel felt as if his mind was beginning to overheat inside his skull as he tried to process the information she had just dropped onto them. 
“I don’t get it,” Daniel croaked out, feeling as if his mind was halting all function as he stared blankly down at his phone. 
“Do you have that potion on you?” Greta’s voice wasn’t scheming, per say, but it was clear she had a plan. 
Daniel dug into his front pocket, fishing out the aforementioned vial. He held it up into the air, looking at it and wondering how something so unassuming could flip his world on its axis. 
Before the drummer could even respond to Greta, Jake had swiped it out of his hand so quickly Danny could only blink dumbly at the man. 
“Josh!” he called before tossing it towards the man. 
“Wait-” was all Daniel could get out before the singer had uncapped the vial and tossed it back like it was a shot. 
“Ooh, bubblegum flavored,” Josh cooed after he swallowed, flipping the vial in his hand after he replaced the cap. 
Daniel just sat frozen in place. Great, now he was going to have to deal with two Kiszkas attached to his hip at all times and he wasn’t going to be able to do anything-
“How ya feeling, Josh?” Jake had asked in a voice reminiscent of a gameshow host from the 70s. 
“Honestly, Jake, I feel no different. Daniel, I love you, man, but not like that,” Josh answered, pointing at his little brother curled up into Danny’s chest like an overgrown cat to prove his point. 
“So, that means…” Jake prompted, holding out his hand as if to cue Daniel to understand. It didn’t work. 
“I still don’t get it. And now I’ll have two of you on top of me-” 
“Oh my god,” Josh impatiently groaned, tossing his head back in frustration as he scrubbed a hand down his face. 
“Jesus, you’re dumb, Dan,” Jake added, exasperation of his own causing him to pinch the bridge of his nose as he shook his head. 
“I’m sure he’ll figure it out eventually,” Greta optimistically offered, her voice cutting through the groaning from the twins. 
“But, wait, what should I do? Is there anything I can do to help Sam? Or, like, cure him?” Danny inquired, electing to ignore the twins and their antics. 
“You’re just going to have to wait it out,” Greta answered, her voice not even remotely sympathetic to Danny’s plight. 
“Thanks for the insight, Greta.” Jake leaned in towards the phone again, giving it a two fingered salute. 
“Yeah, and thank you for the free blackmail!” Josh was smiling as he waved at the phone, his tone chipper and not at all matching the devious words he spoke. 
“Any time, boys!” 
And with that, the call had ended. 
“Well, we best get going,” Josh sighed as he got to his feet, stretching his arms over his head. 
“Yep. Seems like you and Sam need some time to yourselves.” Jake had playfully nudged his baby brother on the shoulder with his hand, Sam only responding with a half-hearted grunt of annoyance at being jostled. 
“Wait, hold on-” 
“Goodbye, lovebirds!” 
With a slam of the door that carried with it a sense of finality, Daniel was left alone with a love-drugged Sam. In his house. Alone. 
“I thought they’d never leave,” Sam yawned, mimicking his older brother from earlier as he stretched his arms above his head, his face pinching together as he did so. Daniel pointedly did not look at the sliver of tan skin the bassist exposed above his waistband as he stretched, a playful teasing of his happy trail poking out briefly. 
“Uh, what?” 
“The twins! I thought they wouldn’t take the hint,” Sam playfully implied, his hands tracing up from their perch on Daniel’s stomach to his pecs. And that was when he realized that Sammy was straddling his hips and looming above him with a look in his eye and a smirk on his lips that was anything but innocent. 
Danny was stuck in his position on the couch, feeling like those butterflies they displayed in glass with those pins that pierced through their wings stabbing through his own limbs. He felt frozen, caught between his own animalistic desire and his morality; the angel and devil on his shoulders waging a war. 
“Are you hungry?” Daniel squeaked out, his voice breaking as he shoved Sam off of him and bolted off the couch. He felt like his face was on fire as the rest of his skin prickled with its own heat. He stood himself on the opposite side of the room, all but pressing his back to the wall. He didn’t care what that witch or the twins said; Sammy would never do that. 
He’s not himself. 
Once Sam recovered from Danny tossing him into the couch, Sam turned those sultry eyes back onto the drummer. “Yeah. For you.” 
Daniel gulped. Sam’s voice had purred out of his lips, matching the very clear bedroom eyes he was shooting Daniel. And Danny was not liking how his body was reacting to that. 
“I’ll order sushi,” Daniel quickly stated before bolting out of the room and away from Sam as fast as he could. 
+++ 
Dinner was an ordeal. Daniel had to essentially manipulate Sammy into eating, which made him feel like garbage. But, he tried to reassure himself by saying it was for Sam’s own good. And if Danny had to use his powers of suggestion over Sam to do it, then it was just a means to an end. To be fair, it wasn’t like he was forcing Sam to do something like make out with Danny or anything like that. It was just getting him to eat his goddamn sushi. 
It also didn’t help that Sam had scooched his chair right up beside Danny’s and would move closer to him each time Danny had tried to move away. And then Sam had tried to feed Danny his food. Which was… an experience. 
“C’moooooooooon Danny! It’ll be cute like Lady and the Tramp!” Sam whined, waving his chopsticks in the air. 
Daniel, knowing his willpower against Sam was weakening, relented. He huffed out a “fine” and half-heartedly opened his mouth. Sam squealed excitedly before gently picking up a roll with his chopsticks and placing it between Danny’s lips. Daniel figured the pain of Sam’s nagging was worth the pleasure of seeing his brilliantly excited smile as Daniel chewed his sushi. 
“Ok, ok, now me!” Sam exclaimed, setting down his chopsticks before opening his mouth wide and sticking out his tongue like he was about to get his tonsils checked. 
With an exasperated yet fond sigh, Daniel selected a sushi roll and brought it up to Sam, cupping a hand underneath it to catch it if it fell. As he placed the sushi on Sam’s tongue, Daniel made the mistake of looking his friend in the eyes. When he did, his breath hitched inside his throat. Daniel could feel as the air around them crackled with a charged energy that sparked to life as their gazes met. And Daniel felt himself unable to tear his eyes away from Sam as he slowly pulled his chopsticks away.
When Sam slipped the food into his mouth and began to chew, that was when Daniel was able to look away. 
That was a few hours ago. The two of them were once again cuddled up on Danny’s couch, Sam trying his absolute best to get every part of his body touching every part of Daniel’s. They had thrown on a crime procedural show; Bones or Law & Order, Daniel didn’t know. He was far too distracted by how Sam kept attempting to get Danny to kiss him or let him blow him or an assortment of other things that made his face glow bright red. 
He’s not in his right mind, Daniel had to keep reminding himself. And he would not break to love-drugged Sam no matter how many times he would flash Danny those puppy eyes that would normally make him fold like a house of cards under a slight breeze. 
“Daaaaaaaanyyyyyyyyyy,” Sam sang, wiggling himself onto Danny’s lap in order to plant himself right in front of Daniel’s field of view. He would no longer be ignored, despite the fact that Sam had always had Danny’s full attention; he just was acting as though he hadn’t. 
“Sam, I’m trying to watch this,” Daniel weakly protested. He had no idea what the plot of the episode was, much less the actual name of the show. 
“Watch me instead,” Sam whined, his shoulders slouching as he theatrically threw his head back in frustration, “you’ve been ignoring me all day.” 
“That’s not true-” 
“It’s like you don’t love me.” And that was what finally caused Daniel to break his facade. He looked Sam right in the eyes, taking in the pout of his lips and the dejected nature of his eyes. Daniel isn’t ashamed to admit that he felt his chest ache at the sight. There was genuine heartbreak in Sammy’s eyes that did nothing to quell the guilt that had been thrumming through Daniel’s veins all day. 
Sam could not have been further from the truth, really. Daniel did love Sam. Like, embarrassingly so. He felt it swelling in his chest every second that he spent with Sam, even when he wasn’t with him. Actually, that was when he felt it the most, when Sam wasn’t with him. Those were the moments when he found himself wishing for the man to be near, feeling his heart long for his calming and wonderful presence. 
But, he knew Sam didn’t feel that way about Daniel. Danny knew Sam the best out of everyone on earth; he’d be able to tell who Sam was in love with. It wasn’t Daniel. 
“That-That’s not…” Danny didn’t know how to answer that. He really didn’t. He had no idea if Sam would remember anything from this after the potion wore off. He really did not want to risk the most precious thing in his life. 
Instead, Daniel just gently lowered Sam’s head down into the crook of his neck, wrapping his arms around Sam in order to pull him as tightly against his chest as he could. If he couldn’t say it, he’d show it. 
Sam calmed down after that, apparently perfectly content to just exist inside of Danny’s personal space. It wasn’t long after that Daniel felt drowsiness creep up on him. Despite not doing much moving around considering the human ball and chain known as Samuel Kiszka was attached to him all day prevented that, he was still exhausted. Emotionally, that is. Who knew having the love of your life falsely confessing his love for you would be so draining? Danny sure didn’t. 
“Alright,” Danny yawned, reaching for the remote to turn off the tv, “time for bed.” 
“Carry me,” Sam murmured, already half asleep against Danny. 
“Sam…” Daniel protested with a sigh, knowing that he was going to anyway but hoping Sam would change his mind. 
“Please, baby,” the bassist whined, moving his head so that one eye poked out from his curtain of hair to give Danny that wretched Puppy Look. 
Like the whipped man that he was, Danny just sighed as his shoulders sagged in defeat. After shuffling around Sam’s limbs to better fit around Danny as he stood, Daniel walked the two of them up to his bedroom. Danny decidedly did not think about what this would look like to an outsider. 
“When did you get so heavy,” Danny grunted halfway up the stairs. 
“It’s not nice to comment on a lady’s weight,” Sam shot back, his face still completely nuzzled into Danny’s neck. The breath of his words made Daniel have to suppress a shiver. 
“Oh, I didn’t know I was talking to a lady.” 
Sam giggled, the vibrant and gorgeous sound making Danny’s heart soar. 
Jesus, he was so doomed. 
+++
It had taken some master level bargaining on Daniel’s part, but he was able to convince Sam to leave him alone long enough so that they could each finish their nighttime routines. Daniel had just loaned Sam a pair of his sleep shorts and a shirt to use as pajamas; the shorts were just a bit too big on Sam and caused the waistband to sit dangerously low on his hips. Daniel found himself having to force his eyes to focus on anything other than that sliver of skin on Sam’s abdomen, which was an incredibly hard task. 
Daniel was far from surprised when Sam had climbed into the bed next to him and proceeded to wrap all of his limbs around Danny. It was like the man had managed to find the exact places where he would fit perfectly against Danny like he was meant to be there. Frankly, it was driving Daniel mad. 
“Don’t I get a kiss goodnight?” Sam hummed directly into the drummer’s ear, able to feel the vibrations in his best friend’s chest that was pressed into his side. 
The question made Danny sigh. He knew what would happen if he said no. 
“You’re going to keep going until I snap or give in, won’t you?” Daniel addressed the ceiling, unsure if he was speaking to Sam or god at this point. 
“Yep,” Sam replied, popping the P in the word. Daniel could hear the mischievous smile in his words. 
Now, it was just a matter of weighing Daniel’s conscience against his desire to get some goddamn rest. And, well, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to kiss Sam. But, once again, not like this. But… well, it wasn’t like they hadn’t kissed before. It happened a few years ago when they were both drunk; the both of them had laughed it off afterwards, but neither of them spoke of it again. Danny was sure that if he had explained to Sam that he was only doing it to get him to relent so that he could sleep, Sam would understand. Hell, this would be far from the first time Danny had done something Sam had asked of him to get him to shut up so he could sleep. 
“Fine,” Daniel had begrudgingly agreed, the word sighed out. But, before he could tell Sam that he was only going to get a quick peck and nothing else, Sam had pounced. 
Danny’s cries of protest had been drowned out by the press of Sam’s unfairly soft lips, his facial hair not an unpleasant bristle against his skin. But, no matter how good it felt, Danny couldn’t allow this to continue. There was just one small problem: Sam had managed to snake his hands from where they had wrapped around Danny’s torso to his head. He felt those lithe fingers weave their way into his curls, locking him in place like a boa constrictor did with their prey. No matter how… how hot that was, Daniel was the one in his right mind. He was the one responsible for his own action, so that meant he had to… to… oh, dear lord, Sam’s tongue was soft; feeling like the finest velvet money could buy. It beckoned Daniel’s own tongue, gently pleading with it to slip inside Sam’s mouth. And, truly, who was Danny to argue? And, god forgive him, Sam’s mouth was so warm and inviting, it should be a sin. 
Daniel blames his fixation on Sam’s mouth for the reason he failed to notice just how long their kiss had lasted. What finally broke him out of his trance was when Sam’s thigh slipped its way between Daniel’s own, brushing against his interested dick and pulling a surprised yelp from his lips. 
Fighting against Sam’s, admittedly strong, grip on his hair, Daniel pulled away from Sam. He made sure to physically push away Sam’s thigh from its spot between Danny’s legs, knowing that should have been his first act. He was out of breath; another indicator for just how he had failed to be responsible. And looking into Sam’s confused and hurt eyes did nothing to help the guilt mushrooming within his chest. 
“You’ll thank me later,” Daniel explained, even sounding out of breath as he tried to put as much distance between himself and Sam as the love-drugged man would allow. Or you’ll hate me later. 
“But what about here and now?” Sam whined, closing the precious distance Danny had built up. 
“You got what you wanted-” and fucking then some, “-just go to sleep.” 
“Daaaaaaaan-”
“Go to sleep, Sam.” Daniel snapped, immediately regretting his tone as soon as he saw the genuine hurt in those amber eyes. 
With a scowl, Sam settled down into the sheets. What hurt the most, though, was when Sam had retracted all of his limbs from where they intertwined with Daniel’s, flipping on his side to face away from his best friend. Despite having wished for it all day, Danny had no idea it would hurt so fucking much. 
Even though he wanted to so fucking badly, Daniel did not reconcile the situation. It was for the best, he had to tell himself. This way, Daniel would be able to actually sleep and Sam wouldn’t be as weirded out towards Danny when he inevitably snapped out of this spell. 
It was for the best. 
Then why does it feel so wrong? 
+++
Daniel had gotten no sleep. 
Despite how much he tried, it seemed that every time he closed his eyes he was met by the image of Sammy’s disappointed face. He knew, deep down, that it was the right thing for him to do, to push Sam away like that. But that really was a thin comfort when the hurt in Sam’s eyes before he disentangled himself from Danny was still playing on loop in his head. Isn’t that what he had been trying to avoid this whole time? Hurting Sam? And, somehow, he had managed to do just that. It was frustrating and exhausting and Danny just wanted to get some fucking sleep. 
Through the night, however, Sam had managed to intertwine himself once more with Danny. It felt like a hollow victory. And when he eventually, slowly, woke up, Sam had seemed to be completely over their spat from the night prior. 
He had simply stretched his arms over his head, his hair a mess of tangles and static, and asked Daniel about breakfast. How Danny had wished that he could just brush off what happened the night prior. 
The rest of the day had happened much like the day before; Sam refusing to let Danny stray too far from his touch. It had been inconvenient as Danny tried to go about his day with another person attached to him at the hip. However, he was able to adapt by lunch time. Sammy was still whispering things in his ear that made his blood simmer in his veins and did nothing to suppress his guilt at what images and scenarios his brain supplied him with. 
Daniel had resigned himself to the fact that his day now would revolve around Sam entirely. He had wanted to go to the grocery store to restock his fridge that was becoming barren, but he knew there was the possibility that someone would recognize the two of them and their… compromising position. 
So, instead of going out and being productive like he had wanted to, he sequestered the two of them to his house. They settled on a Harry Potter marathon, Daniel once again unable to focus on the screen whatsoever with Sam pawing at him continuously. Daniel had ordered food and plopped the two of them on the couch. 
By the fourth movie, Sam had fallen asleep in Danny’s lap. Daniel, now with those doe eyes off of him, felt that he was finally able to end his guise of watching the screen. It had reached the late afternoon, that golden light sun streaming in through the windows of his living room and highlighting the lazy dust mites floating in the air. Most devastatingly, however, was how that sun had focused on Sammy’s profile. The man looked angelic, ethereal in a way that should not be feasible for a mortal. His hair glowed a golden hue, making it look like a halo was crowned onto his head. It made Danny’s heart ache within his chest. 
Daniel had been so distracted by how gorgeous his best friend looked that he failed to really notice that Sammy was beginning to wake up. 
“Daniel?” Sam’s voice was gravelly again. Danny felt his eyes focus on Sam’s, snapping him back into his own mind. 
“Sam?” 
“Wh… What happened?” Sam had lifted himself off of Danny’s chest, sliding a hand from where it rested on the small of Danny’s back to grab at his head. He blinked rapidly, sweeping his eyes around the room as if it was foreign to him with a grimace on his face. 
“How much do you remember?” 
There was a pause before Sam responded, his eyes sliding their focus in on Danny’s. “Remember? Dan, I’m not missing any time.” 
And if that didn’t make Daniel’s blood run cold. 
“So… So…” Danny couldn’t spit it out. No matter how much he wanted to, he just couldn’t say that Sam knew everything. That would make it real. 
“So… what happened?” Sam prompted again, seeming to be more lucid with each passing second. 
Danny involuntarily gulped, feeling a cold sweat breaking out across his skin. Why was he so nervous? It wasn’t that hard to say what happened; he already told the twins. So why the hell was it so difficult to look Sam in the eye. 
“You… You remember that vial from my jacket that you drank?” 
“Mhm, tasted like bubblegum.” 
“...Yeah. Well, that uhh…” 
Oh, for fucks sake! Just say it! 
“It was a love potion,” Daniel rushed out, the words all mushing together to sound like one long word. 
Another beat of silence passed between the two, Sam staring down at Daniel from his perch in his lap and Daniel looking everywhere he could that wasn’t Sam’s eyes. He really wished Sam would move, it would at least help the raging blush on his cheeks. At least slightly. 
“Oh, sick!!” 
Finally, Daniel looked Sam in the eye. Of all the ways he had forecasted that Sam would react to that information, enthusiasm and whimsy was not even on the list. He had expected Sam to get awkward, to politely remove himself from Danny’s touch and make an exit as quickly as possible. He had far from expected Sam to link his hands behind Danny’s neck and eagerly inquire about the potion. 
“Dude, that’s so cool! You know what this means, don’t you??” 
“...No?” 
“Magic is real! And we just proved it!!” Sam’s smile was huge, bright enough to outshine the sun. 
“Sam-” 
“So, like, how does it actually work? Like, I remember that conversation we had with the witch about it only affecting those who already are in love, or whatever, but did she say the actual mechanics of how it worked? Like, is there a special ingredient that it needs to work?” Sam reminded Danny of a puppy in that moment. His eyes were bright and full of enthusiasm, his entire body buzzing with an energy that made it impossible for him to sit still. 
This time, it was Daniel who failed to give a timely response. His mind was too busy reeling over what Sam had glossed over during his rambling to properly process the man’s question. Realizing that the reason Sam was looking at him so expectantly was due to him waiting on the drummer, Danny shook his head to force it to work. 
“H-Hold on,” he began, taking a hand that had rested on Sam’s waist and bringing it up to his forehead, “you… you remember that conversation?? You were asleep!!” 
Danny hadn’t meant for his voice to come out like a screech, however he was just so damn confused that he really couldn’t focus the brain power on proper speech etiquette. 
“What?” Now it was Sam’s turn to knit his brow in confusion. “Oh, yeah! No, I was just faking it. It’s an old trick I pull out sometimes to get out of work; I started doing it so that Jake, Josh, and Ronnie were stuck doing chores instead of me.” 
Daniel felt like he was losing his mind. How was Sam so goddamn chipper about this?? 
“Ok. Ok. Oh my god.” Daniel forced himself to take a breath. It felt as if his entire world was crumbling beneath his feet and his brain was struggling to keep up with the rapidly shifting terrain. 
“So, you remember that whole conversation.” It wasn’t a question, though Danny had intended it to be. 
“Yep!” Danny felt a piece of his soul die at the chipper tone Sam used. He elected to ignore it. 
“And… that means you understand how it actually works…” 
“Apparently better than you did, Danny Boy,” Sam snarked, a playful grin that bordered on flirtatious spreading across his lips. 
Danny could only stare incredulously at Sam. 
“And you’re ok with it??” 
“...Yeah,” Sam answered slowly, “I already knew I was in love with you.” 
And that, right there, was how Daniel Wagner died. In retrospect, he had a good go of it. He was able to follow his dreams, be a rockstar. If he had to pick one, he’d say his one regret in life was ever befriending Samuel fucking Kiszka. It would have saved his life, after all. 
“Danny?” 
Sammy’s voice snapped him out of his cardiac arrest, pulling him back to the present. 
“Y-You… You…” Once again, Daniel felt like his brain was melting out of his head and pouring out of his ears. This can’t be real. Like, it just can’t. “You already… me??” 
“Yeah…” Sammy was looking at him strangely, as if Danny were the one acting weird. 
“You realize what you just told me, right??” 
“I don’t understand why you’re acting so surprised. You already knew this.” 
Danny tried to follow Sam’s logic in his head, he really did. He was still under the spell. He had to be. It was the only way Sam’s behavior made any sense to him. 
“Sam… you were drugged, ok? I don’t know exactly how, but those… your… actions were not your own,” Danny tried to explain, careful and gentle as possible. 
Then, it was as if a lightbulb went off inside Sam’s head. Daniel felt relief hit him; finally Sam got it. They could move past this and save their friendship. 
“Daniel, look at me,” Sammy slid his hands from behind Daniel’s neck to rest them on the sides of his face, positioning it so that Danny had to look at him, “I am not under any spell right now. I am in my sane mind, do you get me?” 
Danny opened his mouth to speak, but Sam cut him off before he had the ability to protest. 
“I am so fucking in love with you. Like, so fucking in love it’s probably illegal. And that was why the potion worked. Because I am in love with you. If I wasn’t, it wouldn’t have worked at all… do you understand what I am telling you in very clear, not-able-to-be-misinterpreted words?” Sam had said every sentence slowly and with a gravity to it that left no room for debate. They were spoken as fact; as law. Just how energy cannot be created nor destroyed, Sam Kiszka was in love with Daniel Wagner. 
Yet Daniel still had a hard time grasping the concept. 
“But… all that… that cuddling and-and kissing and all that… you’ve never acted that way before,” Daniel reasoned, believing this to be the work of the potion and hard evidence to support that belief. 
Sam just laughed, the noise warming up the ice that had frozen in Danny’s veins. 
“I always wanna kiss you, Daniel. The only reason I hadn’t yet was because I didn’t think you wanted me that way. And before you try and say it was the potion forcing me, it just never occurred to me to not act upon my feelings.” 
Danny was still apprehensive, unable to fully grapple with the concept that Sam wanted to kiss him at all times. But, he was beginning to see what everyone had been telling him the past 24 hours. 
“...Prove it.” 
With nothing but a quick “ok” spoken under his breath, Sam wasted no time launching forward and locking his lips with Danny’s. His hands slid from Danny’s cheeks to the back of his head, manipulating it so that Sam could tip it back and deepen the kiss. Once again, Danny felt dizzy. But, unlike the other kiss the two of them shared last night, this one was quick and urgent. Sam had something to prove and he was not about to let Daniel walk away from this without getting his point through Danny’s thick skull. 
It was Sam who eventually pulled away, having to gasp for air. 
“Holy shit,” Danny panted, his head feeling woozy as he took in the sight of his best friend looking absolutely ruined, yet giddy just from his lips. 
“Yeah,” Sam breathed in response, his smile turning dopey as he laughed. 
“You… You love me…” 
Danny watched in real time the excitement and shock that flooded Sam’s eyes. 
“Oh, thank fucking god,” Sam quickly uttered, throwing his head back, “YOU FINALLY GET IT!” Sam had taken to shaking Danny by the shoulders. 
“That’s actually great news because I’m also in love with you,” Daniel admitted, a giddiness of his own flooding his veins at finally being able to say those words out loud to Sam. 
“I would fucking hope so, you dense idiot.” There was no malice in Sam’s words. Quite the opposite, really. He had leaned back down onto Danny’s chest, burying his face into Danny’s neck as they embraced. 
“Wait… when did you-” 
“Truthfully? When we graduated.”
Daniel started to process what that meant. Since we graduated…
“YOU MEAN WE ACTUALLY COULD’VE FUCKED THIS WHOLE TIME??” 
+++
Tag list: @doodle417 @sammykiszkasunusedshoes @jmks-housewife @ageoferin @alwayssotiredbutneverofyou @etoilesnoor @ascendingtostardust @godlygreta @s0livagant @gretavanflowerpower @morganic-goods @dannythedog @baguettejuliette @fan-girl-97 @gaby-gvf @age-of-nyahh @mzbrightside @myownparadise96 @xserenax-13 @sammysvanfeet @loofypoofy @chalametpwk @seventieswhore @razorbladekiszka @capturethechaos @unfortunatelykristin @welightthefire @gretavanfleas @sammiejane22 @satanplayshisfluteforhim @starsasone @writingcold @tearsofbri @gretasmokerising @streamofstardust @lunaindigoraven @jakeydoesit @tripthelightfandomtastic @sunfl0wer-power @wingedgardener2000 @gretavanbitches @teddiie @gardensGateDaisy @sparrowofthedawnsworld @angelbabyyy99 @sammysprincess @whollyfreeamongststars @gretaswhore28 @l0rdoffli3s @kay-jordan @lightmyloverry @kenzie18 @gotavansleep @roosterbbradley @freckled-wonder @flower-power-anthem @Gabyvanfleet @Sarakay-gvf @Mamalikes-gvf @josh-iamyour-mama @st4rdust-ch0rds @pr41sethemoon @fallonfatality @earthlysorrows @jessicafg03 @rossy1080 @hippievanfleet @spark-my-nature @hayley1623 @schleeble @gretavanflipflop
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lueurjun · 11 months
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hufflepuff boyfriend heeseung
feeling really inspired these days idk why, hence why the frequent posts. i might do a written scenario on this too. also lmk if you want more hogwarts enhypen. this is also really long so i’m very sorry about that but i’m running on no sleep it’s 5 am and i’m tired so pls if it’s bad cut me some slack aasdhfkfkdl enjoy
idc what anyone says lee heeseung screams hufflepuff to me
maybe bc i’m a hufflepuff and i want that man in my house
let me have my moment
for the sake of this you guys are also in hufflepuff because this was an impulsive burst of motivation I DONT HAVE A LOT TO WORK WITH RIGHT NOW PLS LET ME LIVE
change it in your mind if you’d like
anyways we’re going for the you fell first, he fell harder trope
i mean who wouldn’t fall at the mere sight of him?
you began harbouring a little crush on him during third year
specifically during potions class when he took the fall for you against snape after you messed up the shrinking potion
he wasn’t even mad. he just gave you a small smile and told you ( gently) to be more careful
you never messed up ever again because if lee heeseung tells you to be careful YOU BE CAREFUL
anyways yes from then on you’re all heart eyes for him any interaction leaves you a bumbling mess
he once sat down next to you in the great hall and you damn near drowned yourself in pumpkin juice
he didn’t reciprocate your crush until fifth year
he’s a lil slow but hey! we got there in the end
his crush specifically started after he got sick and had to spend some time in the hospital wing and you went to great lengths to get past madam pomfrey JUST to give him your notes
you’re an adorable little magic try hard for him like who would go to great lengths like you? no one heeseung should put a ring on it rn
or else i will
jkjk
unless…
ANYWAYS
you’re very good at hiding your crush ( for the most part other than the fact that you freeze whenever he’s around ) but you’re not completely hopeless
heeseung, on the other hand, is absolutely hopeless
anytime you’re in the vicinity this boy becomes a blushing mess
literally heart eyes for you
you notice that he’s acting different and at first it scares you because suddenly he seems distant
and you start panicking
so you go to sunghoon
bad idea
“is heeseung mad at me?”
“yes. he hates you.”
“WHAT?!”
cue jake stepping in with a wild look of panic on his face
“HE DOESN’T HATE YOU!! SUNGHOON WHAT ARE YOU DOING THIS IS OUR DEAR FRIENDS SOULMATE!!! WHY ARE YOU CAUSING TROUBLE?”
sunghoon just sips his pumpkin juice and goes: “funny”
it wasn’t funny you almost cried
little baby hogwarts student riki who follows them around found it hilarious tho
“HA GOOD ONE HYUNG”
jake is like a stressed out father
“riki nishimura eat your toast!”
and you’re just confused because you heard jake call you heeseung’s soulmate in a moment of stress
heeseung is blissfully unaware of the turmoil at the dinner table when he strolls into the great hall
though he goes paler than nearly headless nick when he sees you, his precious little soulmate, surrounded by the group of demon spawns he calls his friends
he manages to go even paler when you stand up and march towards him with a look of determination
and he’s taken by surprise when you yank his tie and drag him out of the great hall prompting many hoots and whistles from your friends
poor heeseung just wanted some breakfast
you pull him into a quiet corner and he’s absolutely petrified
“do you hate me?”
you surprise yourself with how blunt you are
it takes a moment for the question to register in heeseung’s mind and when it does…he starts?? laughing
like manically
him? hate you? that’s the funniest joke he’s ever been told
then he catches onto your ‘wtf’ look and realizes that you’re serious
mortified. sickened. DEVASTATED at the fact that you think he hates you
“no-no! oh my god! no no. i don’t hate you? HATE YOU? ME? Goodness no! I’m sorry I made you feel that way-it’s just…you make me nervous and you’re really good looking and i think-no i KNOW! I KNOW i’m in love with you. please don’t hate me”
honestly you aren’t sure what you was expecting but it definitely wasn’t that
you’re at a loss of words because holy shit
lee heeseung likes- no! no he said loves! he loves you
there’s no words that come out
instead you dry heave and heeseung nearly sobs at the fact that he made you almost throw up with his confession
and that makes him dry heave
so there you both are in the corridor continuously heaving
jake, sunghoon and riki are peeking around the corner watching the whole exchange
one looks perplexed, and the other two look absolutely delighted
“bet you five galleons heeseung throws up first”
“you’re on”
“you are not betting on our friends failure! and riki stop gambling you’re like six”
anyways back to the shit show which is confession land
both of you manage to keep down the contents inside your stomach much to the dismay of sunghoon and riki
“i wasn’t- i got nervous!” you try to explain
“it’s completely fine! i wasn’t meant to confess like that and i already knew you weren’t like-into me—“
sunghoon has had enough
bro pops out from around the corner
“they’ve liked you since before merlin was even cruising around! just date already and spare me of this torture!”
everyone say thank you to sunghoon because after his help, the two of you start dating
finally! this took longer than i anticipated-i got carried away very sorry! okay continue
THE RELATIONSHIP YAY EVERYONE APPLAUD
the professors definitely shipped it and had bets on you both
snape owed mcgonagall twenty galleons
even dumbledore was in on it
holding hands under the table is an absolute must
heeseung does this thing when he senses you getting a bit stressed out in class where he’ll rub his thumb over the back of your hand
finding you both curled up together in the common room is a regular occurrence
you’re both devastatingly awkward but in the cutest way
that’s also really painful to watch sometimes
cue your friend group watching you get all blushy and flustered after shamelessly flirting with each other
“someone break them up before i avada kedavra myself here and now”
dragging heeseung by the tie is a common occurrence
and he has a thing for walking behind you gripping the sides of your shirt or robes
you’re both terribly protective of each other
if anyone hurts heeseung’s feelings, oh boy! not even voldemort would be able to stop you
“did they just insult you, hee? i think they did. HEY YOU! SAY THAT TO HIM AGAIN AND WATCH HOW FAST I RIP EVERY HAIR OUT OF YOUR SCALP, YOU TOAD!”
and if anyone upsets you? oh boy.
he literally shaved someone’s eyebrows off for making you cry. man knows no consequence when it comes to protecting his partner
you both get really shy about pda
so that means whenever you want to share a peck, one of you will hold up a book to hide your faces
making out in the restricted section is a must
the two of you start sneaking off and it becomes noticeable to your friends
“where are they?”
“probably swallowing each others tongues”
when they finally investigate they find out that the two of you have been sneaking off to read muggle stories to each other in the abandoned bathroom
even moaning myrtle cringes at how in love the two of you are
the two of you are really happy
and everyone else is happy that you’re happy
“dibs on naming the future child!”
“sunghoon you are absolutely never naming our baby”
“why not? sunghoon jr lee has a nice ring to it”
you manage to compromise and agree to let sunghoon be the best man at your wedding
he did get the two of you together
perhaps the two of you should repay the favour and find him a match?
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Quiet My Fears (With The Touch Of Your Hand) Ch. 3
Steve Harrington x f!reader
Description: Dramatic reveals are revealed, dramatically (or, you and Steve tell the gang about Baby Harrington and it does not go well).
Warnings: language, food mentions, everyone is angry all of the time
Word Count: 7965
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My Masterlist! - Series Masterlist!
Notes: I'm so sorry this took as long as it did! I've been going through it lately but through the power of boygenius I was actually able to finish this bit the other day! Please enjoy and also no one is allowed to be mad at me lol
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Steve Harrington was going to be a dad.
The funny thing that came along with that was that Steve was actually going to have to tell people.
He imagined that there were many couples who would be very excited about this prospect. There were lots of young men out there who had mothers begging them for grandchildren. His hadn’t quite gotten there yet.
You had told him that you wanted to put off telling people for as long as you could. He entirely understood why; times had changed quite a bit since his mother’s day, but still, being an unwed mother in Smalltown, USA was relatively frowned upon. Honestly, considering just how gossipy the population of Hawkins tended to be, Steve was surprised the front desk ladies at your doctor’s office hadn’t already spread the news like wildfire, HIPAA be damned; golden boy Steve Harrington and his childhood best friend, having a baby out of wedlock? That was some front page stuff, right there. 
Married or not, though, it was going to have to happen sooner rather than later. In a few weeks time, it was going to start getting very difficult to hide. You were going to begin showing any moment now, and as Spring started to settle in, it brought its warmer temperatures with it. You could only hide behind your winter coat and thick sweaters for so long. 
And not just your bump; your friends were beginning to pick up on the fact that there was something going on.
“Steve!” Robin barked before tossing a wadded up ball of old receipts at him. It hit him square between the eyebrows. “Stop moping and do your job, please?”
“I’m not moping,” Steve defended (he absolutely was), before turning back to the pile of returns he was supposed to be sorting through.
“Fuck off, yeah you are,” Eddie very helpfully added.
“See, this is why I don’t like it when you hang around here,” Steve said, pointing a pen toward Eddie. “You two always gang up on me!”
“Why do you think I’m here at all?” Eddie quipped back with a smirk. 
“Because you don’t have anywhere better to go?” Robin supplied.
“That, too.”
“Either way, I’m not moping,” Steve assured. “I’m fine.”
“That’s a fucking lie if I’ve ever heard one,” Eddie said over the click of the markdown gun, as he emptied its bright orange stickers down that back of his arm. Steve couldn’t help but notice that he had set the price to ‘WAS $4.20, NOW $0.69’.
“Stop that,” Robin huffed as she whipped the tool out of Eddie’s hands. “Steve, I can practically see the rain cloud floating over your head.”
“Oh, my god!” Steve didn’t really want to snap at his friends, but he did it anyway. “Nothing is wrong! I am fine, everything is fine!”
Eddie and Robin just stared at Steve like a pair of deer in headlights from across the counter. They both knew how easily frustrated Steve could become, and they’d be the first to admit that sometimes they can poke at him a bit too hard, but an outburst this quickly had been unexpected. Neither said anything, and Steve just sighed.
After a moment of awkward silence, Eddie spoke up once again. 
“Lady problems?”
“Get out!” both Steve and Robin exclaimed, in unison.
“I thought you guys liked me.” Eddie feigned offense.
“You do not work here!” Robin said as she grabbed onto his shoulders and shoved him toward the door. “And Keith’ll get pissed if he finds out you were here and didn’t spend any money, so go home.”
“Fine,” Eddie relented from the entryway. “Hey, I’ll see you guys on Saturday, right?”
“Of course!”
“Probably not.”
“You claim nothing is wrong,” Eddie said, pointing to Steve. “And yet, in the same breath, turn down free beer?”
“Leave!”
“I love you both!”
The bell above the door rang as Eddie walked out, and Steve was left in Robin’s concerned gaze. 
“Y’know, Eddie does kind of have a point,” Robin said after a moment. Nine times out of ten, Robin was able to coax Steve out of his quiet and get him to talk about whatever it was that was eating at him, a fact that Steve was highly aware of. 
“No, he doesn’t,” Steve barked back. If this conversation didn’t end in the next two minutes, he would jump off the roof. 
“You haven’t hung out with any of us in weeks!” Robin exclaimed “Weeks, Steve!”
“I’ve been busy,” Steve lied.
“Busy with what?” she inquired. “Do you have another job I don’t know about, or something?”
“I’m allowed to do things without you around. You know that, right?” It was meaner than he needed to be.
“Oh, god, this isn’t about your lover, is it?” Robin drawled with a scowl.
“You know her name, and you don’t have to say it like that,” Steve responded.
“You two got back together, didn’t you?”
She hadn’t quite gotten it head on, but it was probably as close as she was going to get.
“I knew it!” Robin looked like she was going to explode. “I fucking knew it!”
“Please don’t turn this into a thing,” Steve pleaded.
“Me turn it into a thing?!” She was mad now. “You two are the ones turning it into a thing! You cannot keep sneaking around like this, it cannot possibly be healthy!”
“We’re-” Steve huffed out a breath. This tightrope he was walking across seemed to be growing more and more thin. “Working on it.”
“Can you work on it a little bit faster, please?” Robin asked as she punched out. “You two are so fucking weird about each other. Split, or make it official, just do something, because I hate having to keep this secret for you, it’s exhausting!”
“We sort of already did. I think,” Steve confided. Partial truth is better than no truth, right?
“Split?”
“Make it official.”
“Oh, thank god,” Robin sighed, tossing herself across the counter, all dramatics. “I can finally quit having to cover for you.”
“Don’t say anything yet.” Steve was quick with his damage control. “We, uh, we wanna do it. Ourselves. Figure it’ll probably go over a little bit smoother that way, y’know?”
“Fine, but if you don’t tell everyone soon, I’m going to,” Robin said. “Don’t think I’m the only one who’s noticed something off with you lately.”
“What? What does that mean?”
“Everyone is worried about you, Steve,  it’s not just me,” she explained. “Dustin was about two seconds away from showing up at your house after you bailed on us last week.”
Steve didn’t know that. It sent a lightning bolt of regret through his chest.
“The faster you two can get your shit together, the better. I’ve been happily cleaning up this mess for you, but I’m starting to get fucking tired of it, Steve.” Robin looked at her watch. “I was off ten minutes ago.”
She was out the door before Steve could even think up an apology.
Steve and Robin didn’t get into fights often, but he absolutely hated it every time they did. Even silly little arguments left him wracked with guilt sometimes, but proper, go-for-the-throat type fights made feel sick. 
Pair that with the fact that he was making Dustin worry, and Steve felt about ready to hurl. 
God, this was difficult. Stupidly difficult. Maybe, if he asked nicely, you’d agree to just run away with him so he didn’t have to deal with any of it. 
If he could just pluck up the courage to tell his parents, that would at least be a start. They were the difficult ones, the conversation he was dreading more than any of them, and the wild anxiety ate away at him for the rest of his shift. By the time seven o’clock rolled around and he was finally able to go home, it was entirely all-encompassing.
Fuck it. It had to get done either way, right?
The drive from Family Video to his parents house, no longer than ten minutes, felt as though it stretched across half an eternity. The vicious anxiety ate away at his stomach as he drove, and with each turn, each mile crossed, it only increased. Maybe he should just turn around. Maybe he should go home to you, and his parents could just figure it out on their own. He was sure his dad would love that.
Steve pulled into the driveway and was very close to losing what little nerve he had. He turned off the ignition, this is a bad idea. He got out of the car, this is a bad idea. He walked up to the front door and let himself in, this is a bad idea.  
He could hear the commotion of his mother making dinner in the kitchen. Something was sizzling; popping and crackling with the smell of onions and garlic, of bell peppers and roasting meat. 
Steve had lots of reasons to be jealous of other peoples’ parents, but at least his knew how to cook.
“Steve!” his mother exclaimed once he walked into her view. One hand was occupied by a wooden spoon stirring a pan of vegetables, the other holding a frosty glass of white wine. “I didn’t know whether or not to expect you.”
“You barely even live here anymore,” his father chided from where he was sitting at the counter. His suit coat was off and he had a matching wine glass sitting on the table in front of him. Nine times out of ten, Steve’s parents were able to be amicable with one another. At this point, they acted more like roommates than husband and wife, but at least they were roommates that were able to stand being in the same room as one another. Usually. “Didn’t think I’d get to see you before I left.”
“Sit down! Have a drink,” his mother insisted. She pulled another wine glass out of the cabinet and the bottle out of the fridge. 
“Oh, no, I’m alright,” Steve said as he sat down. His mother poured him the glass anyway.
He was about to ruin a perfectly good dinner, Steve thought to himself. His mother probably poured over it all day. The roast that just got pulled out of the oven was probably expensive. 
“So, what’s been going on with Steve these days?” his father asked him. 
Now or never.
“I actually wanted to, uh,” Steve stuttered out. “I wanted to talk to you guys.”
“You didn’t crash your car, did you?” his father said, only half joking.
“No, the car’s fine.”
“Is this about that girl?” his mother asked as she turned the stove down to low, mischief painting her voice.
“Girl? What girl?” His father pointed his gaze over to Meredith. 
“He met a girl,” she responded. She seemed almost giddy with excitement.
“Finally,” his father said. He said it like it was a joke, though it didn’t feel all that well meaning to Steve. 
“Oh, tell me it’s Giada’s daughter from down the street,” his mother said. “Have you seen their kitchen? I’d never have to host another Thanksgiving ever again.”
“No, it’s not- no.” Steve wasn’t even sure he knew who Giada was, let alone her daughter. 
“Well, at least give us a name, Steve,” his mother said. “Is she cute?”
When Steve said your name, he felt almost like he was condemning you. Like just uttering it strapped you to him, so now you’d both be falling from grace. 
“The one who grew up across the street?” his father asked, as if you hadn’t known him your whole life.
“Oh, that’s just too sweet!,” his mother exclaimed. “It’s like a movie, ugh! I’ll have to give her mother a call, she’s going to be thrilled!”
Good luck with that, Steve thought to himself. She won’t even answer the calls from her own daughter.  
“Took you long enough,” his father said, leaning back in his barstool, lackadaisical. 
“What?” Steve responded. He was wildly unimpressed by his father’s haughty attitude.
“You two have been making googly eyes at each other since you were eight,” he explained. “Frankly, I didn’t think you had the balls to do anything about it.”
“Ron,” his mother chastised at the choice of words.
“What? Obviously, I was wrong.” Ron pointed his gaze back to his son. “Y’know, I think she could be a good influence on you. Steady job, good work ethic. She’s a bit of an oddball, though, but I guess with a father like her’s, could you really blame her?”
Leave it to Ronald Harrington to judge other peoples’ parenting skills while simultaneously insulting his son’s girlfriend. 
“Don’t be rude,” Meredith said. Her back was now turned to the two men, arms elbow deep in the sink. “Such a shame her parents moved away, though. I couldn’t imagine going that far without bringing your daughter with you. Is she still living on the south side?”
“Yep.”
“That’s not the safest area in town,” she commented. “Did you hear about that house fire down that way? The woman on the news said that it might have been arson. Arson!” 
“It’s alright,” he placated. “Not as bad as it used to be, at least.” 
“I still don’t know if I like the idea of a girl like her living all by herself in an area like that,” she said. 
“You’ll have to invite her over for dinner once I get back,” his father said, entirely oblivious to the topic of conversation between his wife and son.
There was a moment of silence between the three of them. His mom took a sip of her wine and stuck the meat with a cooking thermometer, his dad refilled his own glass, and Steve felt his stomach do a backflip. This was going poorly.
“If there’s something else you have to tell us, you might as well just rip the bandaid off quick.” His father hit the nail on the head, that was for sure. He paused for a moment before making the kind of poorly timed, borderline insulting joke only someone like his father could. 
“God, she’s not pregnant, is she?”
Steve went rigid, and he kept his gaze trained on the swirls in the marble countertop. He didn’t say anything, he couldn’t bring himself to, so he just left his parents to piece his silence together on their own.
“Steve,” his mother demanded. She had a carving fork gripped tight in her white knuckled fist, planted hard against the edge of the countertop. Steve was pretty sure she was about to stab him with it. He couldn’t look either of them in the eye.
“I’m sorry,” he managed to squeak out. He could feel tears beginning to well up in his eyes. 
“Goddamn it, Steven!” his father exclaimed, slamming his hand onto the counter. It made the glasses rattle. “This has to be some kind of joke!”
“I’m sorry!” Steve said, louder this time. “Fuck, I didn’t-”
“Didn’t what?” his father asked. “You didn’t mean to? You didn’t think it would actually happen?”
“I don’t know,” Steve responded. He suddenly felt very small, confronted by his father’s booming voice.
His mother stood silent in her spot on the opposite side of the kitchen island, but there were definitely tears running down her cheeks, and anger radiating off of her in horrible waves that Steve wasn’t used to. 
“No, you don’t, because you weren’t thinking at all, were you?” His father fumed. He was standing now, towering over Steve despite the fact that the two of them were almost the same in height. “For Christ’s sake, Steven!”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’ll have to marry her-”
“We already talked about that. She said she wants to wait,” Steve explained quickly.
“No. No, this is not a question of want, Steven. I don’t care about what you want, you’ve forfeited that right! You both have!” his father spat back. 
“I’m not gonna force her to marry me against her will, dad, I’m not evil!” He shouldn’t have said it that way, he knew that. But god, he was mad, and a low blow like that was just as satisfying as he thought it would be. 
At least this hadn’t happened when he was 16. He would have been well and truly fucked if this had happened when he was 16. 
“You know what? Maybe this is just the thing you need,” his father snapped.
“What?” Steve asked, confused.
“A big mistake for you to finally learn a thing or two.”
Steve wasn’t particularly fond of his father’s use of the word ‘mistake’.
“I leave for Santa Monica tomorrow morning. I’ll be back in a week,” his father stated. “I want you out of my house before then.”
“Ronald,” Meredith broke her silence, exclaiming from behind the tears. Steve knew she wouldn’t explode the way his father was doing, but she really looked like she wanted to.
“No! We have been defending him and making excuses for years, Meredith. Years! If he wants to go play house with his little girlfriend, that’s fine by me, but he’s not gonna do it under my roof.” He doubled down and turned his gaze back to where Steve was sitting. “I think it's a damn good time for him to learn that his actions come with consequences.”
The older man turned away at that and pulled his keys off of the hook on the wall.
“Where are you going?” Meredith called after him. He didn’t bother with an answer, only walked out and slammed the door behind him. 
Steve was left alone with his mother, which was simultaneously much better and far worse. 
“We were already planning for me to move in with her,” Steve said. If his father had stuck around for a minute longer, he would have been able to explain that to him, too. “She needed a roommate anyway.”
His mother scoffed and shook her head.
“Look, I know that-”
“You make it incredibly difficult for me to be on your side sometimes, Steven,” his mother interrupted.
“I know,” Steve agreed. He did know. 
“I wish I could say that I thought your father was being irrational, but I don’t know if I can,” she sighed. “For once, I think he and I might be on the same page.”
“You are?” Steve asked. His father’s vitriolic anger hadn’t come as a surprise, he’d been expecting it, but he thought his mother would be at least a little bit understanding. She always had been before. Steve guessed that this was different, though. 
“You’re not going to be able to live in that apartment forever, Steven,” she said.
“I know that.”
“And you’ll definitely need a better job. I highly doubt your father’s previous offer still stands, by the way.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” she asked him. Her voice had a bite to it that he had never been on the receiving end of before. “You’ve been saying ‘I know’ for years now, Steve. You know you need to grow up, you know you’ll have to move out someday, you know you have to do something with your life, yet you have never made any actual effort to do anything about it!”
“Mom, that’s not true-”
“If you want to start making big, adult choices like this, you’re going to have to start acting like one. Clearly, you’re not a child anymore.” 
His mother untied her apron and tossed it onto the counter before leaving the kitchen, heels clicking on the tile.
Steve’s whole family had been waiting for that thing; that final, fatal event that would break the Hawkins Harringtons for good. Aunts, uncles, cousins, all piecing together whatever bits of gossip they could, knew that the string that tied Steve to his parents was being pulled thinner and thinner and thinner. His mother could only do so much mending for him, and everyone had spent the last few years waiting with bated breath for that string to snap, for Steve to lose his footing. Once it did, he would plummet.
Steve was now standing alone in his childhood home, scissors in hand. 
Steve didn’t know what to do, so he stood up and turned off the stove. He pulled out a tupperware container and boxed up the vegetables. He wrapped the meat in foil and left it out on the counter, because it needed to cool before it could be put away, or else it would screw with the temperature inside the refrigerator. He found a stopper and closed the bottle of wine, placing it in the fridge before gathering the three glasses. His was still full, and he wanted to chug it, but thought better of it and poured it down the drain. He cleaned all of the dishes, dried them, and put them away. He turned off the oven, and wiped down all of the countertops, and neatly hung the towel to dry. He turned off the lights, making sure to leave the one above the stove on as a nightlight. 
Truly, there wasn’t much left of his personal belongings that he really cared about that he hadn’t already taken to your apartment. Most of what he needed was already there. He could grab the rest of it when his mother wasn’t home; the rest of his clothes, important documents, that kind of thing. What all do you even need to bring with you when you're being forced out of your childhood home, anyway? 
Later. This was something he could deal with later.
So he left. Unsurprisingly, his father’s car was nowhere to be seen. He wanted to keep talking to his mom, to explain himself, to apologize, to say anything, but he knew it would just make it worse than it already was, so he just got into his car and pulled away instead.
He did need a better job. He’d been needing a better job for a while now, actually, but he definitely needed a better job now. And his mother was right, there was no way he would be able to work for his dad after that. 
He wished he was able to explain to his parents that hey, funny story, due to atrocities he won’t be explaining right now, the government actually gave him a frankly absurd amount of money a few years ago, and he’d be alright for a while. It wouldn’t last forever, but it was enough to keep the pair of you afloat, especially with yours, too. You had used a bit of it on rent right after your parents had left, but Steve’s money sat mostly untouched in a bank account his family didn’t know he had. 
See, the thing about government hush money is that you can’t just go out and spend it on something wild, because then people are going to ask where it came from. Believe him, if he had been able to go out and buy some fancy sports car or a bunch of designer clothes, he would have. His father would have told him to buy a nice watch and invest the rest of it (Steve wasn’t entirely sure what that actually meant, or how to even go about doing it). He was just grateful to have it right now.
He could put a down payment on a house for you and him. That seemed like something a responsible adult would do with it, right?
Steve pulled up to your building and was shocked with how well he’d held it together up until this point, because he felt like he was going to explode. When he got to your floor and walked into your apartment, you were sitting on the floor between the sofa and the coffee table, textbooks and paper spread before you. The sound of him walking in pulled you away from your schoolwork and when you turned to look at Steve, you were clearly upset.
“You told me you were off more than an hour ago!” you said as you wiggled out from behind the table and stood up. “I was starting to get really worried, Steve, where were you?”
“I, uhm,” Steve started. He felt his voice crack, the sting of tears beginning to well in his eyes. He had to keep his shit together, for your sake.
“Did something happen?” you asked him. You brought your hands up to the sides of his face, and there went any chance of him keeping it together. 
“I told my parents,” he confessed. He was not going to cry in front of you. He wasn’t.
“What?” you questioned. You sounded a little bit hurt that he did it without asking you, but mostly just horribly concerned. “I thought we agreed to wait.”
“We did, but it was eating away at me, and I just couldn’t sit on it anymore, and-” The floodgates broke and Steve’s words were cut off by a strained sob. 
“Oh, Stevie.” You pulled him into a hug and Steve wanted nothing more than for these stupid tears to just dry up, but it felt like weeks and weeks of pent up worry and fear were being pulled to the surface, and he didn’t have it in him to try and stop any of it. He was supposed to be the strong one for you, but Jesus Christ, that was difficult. “It was bad?”
“Well, they kicked me out,” Steve said.
“What?”
“Which, I mean, my dad’s right. I barely even live there anymore, so I guess it doesn’t really even matter,” he rambled out, wiping his nose on his sleeve like a child.
“Yes, it does,” you assured him.
“And I’m pretty sure that this is my mother's worst nightmare, so I don’t know why I didn’t expect her to be pissed.”
“I’m sorry,” you said. You pulled Steve towards the couch and carefully lowered onto the cushions, your grasp on his wrists bringing him down to your side. 
“And Robin and I got into a fight, too.”
“You didn’t tell her, did you?” you questioned.
“No, but I think if I don’t do it soon, she might disown me,” he admits. 
“She’s not going to disown you,” you protested. “She’d never do that.”
“My parents just did,” Steve lamented. “My mother just did. Who’s to say Robin isn’t next, huh?”
Steve would never, ever be able to make his father proud, because his father would never, ever let him even get close. He had known that for a long time, and maybe there was a part of him that was relieved by that. He knew that it was an entirely unattainable goal, so he never really bothered to reach for it. His mother, oh so cruelly, always made sure Steve knew that he could do great things. Why did she have to go and do that? Steve knew his mother held him to a high bar, he just hadn’t ever considered the possibility that he wouldn’t be able to jump high enough.
So maybe that’s why it hurt so badly when you curled into him that night when he finally crawled into bed. Maybe that’s why he called into work the next day, even though he knew it would probably make Robin totally freak out. Maybe that’s why he waited until he saw his mother’s car leave the driveway before going into his - what used to be his- house to box up the last of his things.
Maybe that’s why he missed the Hawkins Police Department truck parked outside of your apartment building when he was bringing groceries inside a handful of days later. 
“I’m back!” he called into your apartment after releasing the wildly heavy grocery bags onto the kitchen counter. Making more than one trip is for suckers. “They didn’t have any pineapple juice, so I just got a pineapple, figured it can’t be too hard to just-”
Steve cut himself off when he looked up from the paper bags to see more than just you sitting in the living room; Joyce was sitting on your left with an arm wrapped protectively over your shoulders, Robin on your right with her legs pulled up underneath her and a tissue box in her lap, and Hopper was propped up on the arm of the couch. You were in the middle of the array, in tears. 
“Hello,” Steve nervously greeted, eyes wide as frisbees and blood running cold.
There was absolutely no universe in which this went well.
Robin’s expression, which had clearly been soft and sympathetic before Steve had interrupted them, quickly changed into anger. She shot up from the couch, earning her a disapproving tut from Joyce and making you wince away from her. It took her three wide stomps to cross the small space and grab onto Steve’s wrist with more strength than he knew she had in her.
“Ow, Robin!” Steve complained as she dragged him out into the hallway. She slammed the door hard behind her and it made Steve jump.
“What the fuck, Steve!” she demanded.
“Robin-”
“I mean, seriously, what the fuck!” Steve could already hear the noise complaints from the neighbors as she chastised him. “You lied to me!”
“I-” didn’t, is what he wanted to say, but he knew better than that. “I’m sorry.”
“How long have you two been back together then?” she questioned. Steve really didn’t want to admit it. “How long?”
“Six months,” he replied, sheepishly.
“Six months?!” Robin shrieked in disbelief. “Jesus Christ, you really did lie to me!”
“Robin,” Steve said, hushed and ashamed and really fucking mad at himself.
“For half a year! You lied to me for half a year!”
“I’m sorry!”
“She had to turn down her job offer from the school,” Robin barked. 
“I know that.”
“The job that she’s been talking about for, oh I don’t know, six months? Probably more than that, actually!”
“I know, Robin, alright?” Steve assured her and crossed his arms across his chest. “You think I don’t? I am highly aware of that!”
“And, I’m sorry, but you’re far from the King of Responsibility!” Robin said. 
“What does that mean?!” Steve questioned, a tint of frustration layered over his words. 
“I’m just saying, you aren’t exactly known for your maturity,” she spat.
“You think we wouldn’t be able to take care of-”
“She can. I know she can.  She’s more than capable of doing whatever the hell she puts her mind to, but you?” Anger and resentment dripped from her mouth with each word. “You, I’m honestly not sure. If you were more willing to lie to my face for six months than you were to just tell me the fucking truth, I’m sorry, but that’s really winning you any responsible adult points, is it?”
Tears pricked behind Steve’s eyes. He wanted to yell, to scream at the top of his lungs that, no, Robin, you’re wrong, I can do this!, but he really wasn’t sure if it was true. If his closest friend, one of the people he trusted most in the whole world, really thought that he wouldn’t be able to do this, then maybe she’s right, right?
The apartment door next to Steve slowly creeped open.
“Everything alright out here?” Hopper asked, carefully planting himself just slightly between Steve and Robin. 
Robin lost her vitriol like a tea kettle after the burner got turned off, leaving her with no more steam to fuel what she needed to say. 
“I’m waiting out in the car,” she muttered as she whizzed past Steve and turned down the stairwell. The two men in the hall listened to her descending footsteps. Once they heard the front door open and slam back shut, Jim broke through the quiet.
“Robin wanted me to check up on you after you called out,” Jim explained. “She was worried you were mad at her, after your fight.”
“Right,” Steve said.
“So, imagine my surprise when your mom answers the door, only to tell me that you don’t live there anymore,” the older man said. “She wouldn’t tell me why, just gave me an address and shut the door.”
“Look, if you’re here to give me another angry dad talk, then you don’t have to bother. Mine did a pretty damn good job all on his own,” Steve asserted. 
“I’m not here to be angry.” Steve could tell that Hopper was choosing his words very, very carefully.
“Oh, that’s unlike you,” Steve commented, arms still crossed and eyes on the floor.
“Don’t be shitty!” Jim snapped. Steve withered.
“Sorry,” he muttered, still not able to look the man in the eyes. Jim just sighed.
“Do you have a plan, Steve?” he asked. 
“Yes. No,” Steve replied. “I don’t know. She seems to have one.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“I’m just not sure if I fit in it,” Steve confessed.
“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Jim huffed. “Maybe you do need another angry dad talk!”
“What do you want me to say?” Steve interrogated. “That everything is under control and totally normal? I have no idea what’s going to happen! None! And, honestly? I’m fucking terrified, Hopper!” 
“Steve-”
“I have to be good at this. I have to! Because I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I’m not, but I am so terrified that I won’t be able to, and I’m going to let her down, and I can’t do that!” It all came out as some sort of paranoia fueled stream of consciousness. “I’d rather die than be anything like my dad, but what if it’s just in my blood? Like, I’m just predestined to turn out just as shitty as him!”
“You definitely won’t,” Jim said, as if it were just a simple fact. “I can assure you, there are very few people on this earth as shitty as your father, and you are not one of them.”
Jim wasn’t overly fond of Ronald Harrington; he was an all-around asshole to most people he met.
“Look, as much as I hate to admit it, you two aren’t kids anymore,” Hop said. “You’re grownups, you two are smart. You can make your own choices. If this is the choice you two wanna make, then make it.”
“You’re making it sound so simple,” Steve snarked.  
“It kind of is,” the chief replied. 
“Really? Because this feels like the least simple thing that’s ever happened to me,” Steve said. “You’re really not mad?”
“Well, I’m not thrilled,” Hopper grumbled. “But, like I said. You two are grownups. You can do whatever the hell you want.”
The pair stood in silence for a moment. Steve knew that Hop was more than likely lying about how mad he was, though he had been preparing himself for Jim to completely lose it on him. He probably would have deserved it. 
“Does it ever get less terrifying?” Steve asked, genuinely wanting to know.
“Nope.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“And it’s not just the fun parts,” Jim added.
“I know,” Steve responded.
“It’s more than just tiny socks and decorating the nursery.”
“I know that.” 
“Just makin’ sure.” Jim was far from happy, but he gave Steve a nod and a pat on the back, which was as close to congratulations as he was going to get. “I know the kids give you a hard time, but you’re smart, and so is she. You two know what you’re doing.”
“Thank you.”
“She’s really, really scared, Steve,” Hopper said. There was something in his voice; a silent question of  ‘do you really know what it is you’re getting yourself into?’
“I know,” Steve replied.
“You don’t get to panic now, alright?” Jim told him. “And you don’t get to change your mind.”
“I won’t. I promise,” Steve said; ‘I do know, and I want all of it.’ “I would never do that to her. Never.”
The pair went back inside, and you seemed to be in slightly better spirits now, even if you still had a sea of tears in your eyes. Both you and Joyce turned to face the two men with questions in your eyes, and Jim’s small nod seemed to be enough of an answer for Joyce to shoot off of the couch to envelop Steve in a tight hug. 
“I have lots of baby things I can bring by for you two,” she gushed after pulling away.
“You don’t have to do that,” you said to her, but she was having none of it.
“Don’t worry about it,” Joyce assured. “It’s all just collecting dust anyway.”
Which left Dustin, who in a lot of ways, Steve was the most worried about. He could take the anger from the grownups. Hell, he could take it from Robin, but Dustin, he was less sure about. 
In true Henderson fashion, he found out about Baby Harrington a few days later, entirely by mistake.
“I still don’t understand why they kicked you out in the first place,” Dustin stated from his spot on the living room floor of your (Steve’s!) apartment. He was digging through a pile of old clothes Steve decided he no longer needed. He had a lot of things, he’d realized while moving in, and he really only wanted a few of them, needed even less. He would donate whatever went unclaimed, but Dustin wanted first dibs for himself. 
“Because they’re assholes,” Steve responded. 
“Okay, yeah, fair, but hasn’t Robin been begging you to get a place with her for, like, a year?” 
“It’s not like I was able to really take my time apartment hunting.”
“I still feel like crashing on Robin’s couch for a while would’ve made more sense than moving in here,” Dustin supplied. Steve rolled his eyes.
“I needed an apartment, she needed a roommate, that’s it. Alright?” Steve loved Dustin like a little brother, but good lord, he could be obnoxious sometimes. “Now pick out what you want so I can clean this shit up.”
Dustin finished his haul, though he grumbled about how Steve was rushing him the whole time, and gathered the previously neatly folded clothes into a messy pile.
“I didn’t think of how I was gonna get any of this stuff out to the car.” Dustin, at not- quite- eighteen years old, had finally gotten his drivers license. ‘Thank god,’ Steve had remarked, ‘that I don’t have to be your fucking chauffeur anymore.’ That sentiment only lasted a little while, though, as it quickly became clear that a drivers license meant that Dustin could come and bother Steve whenever he wanted to. And he wanted to all the time. “Will you help me carry it all out?”
“No, I won’t, because there are more trash bags in the cabinet under the sink.” Steve pointed towards the small kitchen. Dustin got up off the floor, going into the kitchen and checking in seemingly every cupboard you had.
“I said under the sink, dude!” Steve heard the squeaky cabinet hinges open and shut, the rustle of the plastic trash bag.
“Steve?” Dustin called after a moment. The apartment was small, and the only real thing separating the kitchen and living room was a few feet of counter and the floor switching from tile to carpet.
“What?” Steve responded, not bothering to look up from the clothes he was shoveling back into their own trash bag. 
“What’s this?” Dustin asked him. When Steve finally looked up at him, he was pointing towards something on the fridge, and it took Steve a second to realize that what Dustin was referring to was the ultrasound pictures that he’d forgotten to take down.
Well, shit.
Steve rocketed towards the fridge to put them away, but Dustin was faster and grabbed them before he could. The damage was already done.
“Dustin, please give me that,” Steve asked. 
“This has her last name on it,” the younger boy observed. 
“Put it down, alright? You weren’t supposed to see it in the first place, so just-”
“Is she fucking pregnant?” Dustin demanded. 
“Dustin, please.” 
“I didn’t think she was dating anyone, though?” the boy thought out loud. “Oh, my god, I wonder if it’s someone we know!”
Oh, it definitely is.
“Dude, c’mon, please just give me the picture.” Remember what Steve said about Dustin being obnoxious?
“Wait, why are you moving in with her if she’s pregnant?” Dustin inquired. “I’m pretty sure that extra bedroom is gonna be pretty occupied in nine months.”
“It’s closer to six, actually,” Steve clarified, and Dustin’s eyes widened. “But that isn’t the point, can you please just-”
“Steve?” the boy asked, tone shifting away from curiosity into something Steve found much more concerning.
“Yeah?” Steve sighed.
“Why did you move in with her?” he asked again, although the way he spoke the words made Steve think Dustin probably already had it figured out. 
“Why do you think?” was all Steve could come up with to say.
“Oh, my god.”
“Dustin-”
“Oh, my god!”
“You cannot tell anyone, okay? This is totally top secret,” Steve begged.
“Did you-? You two-!” Dustin stuttered out. “Oh, my god!”
Dustin was about to start hyperventilating and Steve was doing his best to keep that from happening, pulling the glossy image out of Dustin’s hand as if it were made of precious porcelain, when the sound of keys jingling in the door distracted them. Both boys fell into bitter silence as you opened the door and took in the sight in front of you; a very frazzled Steve and a very distressed Dustin.
“Hi?” you greeted. “What’s going-”
“You’re fucking pregant?” Dustin exclaimed.
“What?” you spat out in response. Steve could tell that your mind was working a mile a minute to come up with a way to cover for yourself. “I-I don’t, uhm-”
“I left the sonogram on the fridge by mistake,” Steve confessed. He felt awful. “I’m sorry, it didn’t even cross my mind.”
“Oh,” you replied. You hadn’t moved from your spot in the entryway, hadn’t put down your bag or taken off your coat. You just stayed frozen.
“Oh, I have so many feelings!” Dustin wheezed, leaning forward. “Oh, my god!”
“Yeah, you’ve mentioned him.”
“You’re having a fucking baby?” Dustin asked you.
“Yes,” you timidly responded, slowly placing your work bag onto the side of the couch.
“With Steve?!”
“Yes,” you said again.
“That Steve?” Dustin pointed a thumb over his shoulder to where Steve was hovering behind him. “Steve Harrington? Our Steve?”
You nodded. “That Steve.”
“Holy shit,” the boy breathed out.
“Please don’t be mad,” Steve requested.
“What? Mad, why would I be mad?” he asked. “Who’s mad?”
“Well, so far, everyone,” Steve explained.
“Wait, is this why Robin’s not talking to you?” Dustin asked.
“Robin’s not talking to you?” you piped up, concern dripping from your words. 
Steve hadn’t mentioned that part to you yet. 
Robin had been giving Steve total radio silence ever since she had found out. Even at work, she was refusing to say a single word to him. She went and hid in the bathroom anytime Steve tried to say anything at all, and she had even recruited Keith to be her disinterested, detached middle man and relay VHS-related messages if she really needed to. 
To say the least, she really hadn’t taken it all that well.
“Later?” he said to you, silently begging you to table this conversation for a time when you didn’t have a very upset teenager in your kitchen.
Sticky silence fell over the three of you, sealing to Steve’s skin and filling his lungs up in a way he hated. Dustin was the one who peeled through it first. 
“Are you actually having a baby?” The question was directed to Steve this time. Dustin was wildly expressive, he always had been, and he looked very, very overwhelmed. Steve felt about the same. He just nodded, and it took a second for Dustin to properly process the news.
“Gimme the picture again!” Dustin insisted. 
“No, dude! We only have a few and-”
“Excuse me, it’s my nephew, I think I get to see the picture if I want to!”
The tension dissolved as soon as the words came out of Dustin’s mouth. Steve had been so, so worried that he’d be mad, madder than Robin was. 
“Hah! See, Dustin thinks it’s a boy, too!” Steve exclaimed to you. Reservation made way for excitement. Like Dustin said, it’s his nephew.
“Oh, god, please don’t start with this again,” you said, smiling despite the faux exasperation in your voice.
“You think it’s a girl?” Dustin asked.
“I think,” you say as you shuck off your coat and lean against the counter, across from the boys, “that Steve is going to get his hopes up about it being a boy, and then be disappointed if it isn’t.”
“Not possible,” Steve clarified with a smile. “Besides, you don’t have to worry about it because I’m right, and it’s gonna be a boy.”
Dustin didn’t end up leaving until a good few hours later, when Steve noticed how your eyes kept fluttering shut as you leaned against his shoulder. He had to manhandle the boy out the door; he had a seemingly unending vault of questions (“you guys have been sleeping together this whole time?!”), but you were totally wiped. 
You really just wanted to just go to bed, but Steve insisted you ate something first, and a mug of soup later, you were practically dead on your feet. He cleaned up any dinner mess (canned soup doesn’t really result in any mess, but he’d be damned if you had to put your own dishes into the dishwasher), and sent you off to get ready for an early turn in. 
He’d just put the pot away when you summoned him into the bathroom.
“You alright?” Steve asked, leaning against the doorframe. You were standing in front of the sink in your pajamas. He could smell your mouthwash.
“Come look.”
Steve took a step into the bathroom to sidle up next to you as you pulled the bottom edge of your too-big t-shirt up. Your fingers ever so gently ghosted over your stomach.
“That wasn’t there before,” you asked, tilting your head back against the crook of Steve’s arm to look up at him. “Was it?”
Steve was entranced by your reflection in the mirror, by the way the swell of your tummy absolutely gave you away. 
“I don’t know.” Steve spoke just barely above a whisper, the way he would have if he was standing in a church. You felt like an angel beneath his arm. “I don’t think so.”
“I feel like I would have noticed it if it was,” you said, eyes glued to the mirror just as Steve’s were. 
“Definitely would’ve noticed,” Steve quietly gushed. “You officially have a baby bump.”
Realistically, you still had a couple more weeks before anyone else would actually be able to see it. Still small enough to hide behind your clothes, but absolutely, undoubtedly there. 
You hummed, and Steve noticed the way you were trying to hide your smile.
“You’re allowed to be happy about it, you know,” Steve reminded you. Your eyes caught his again, and your small, shy smile grew just a little bit bigger as you pulled his hand away from your hip and placed it firmly against the slope of your tummy. He felt his breath hitch, like the action of touching you was breaking some sort of cardinal law, but he stroked his thumb up and down, up and down across your skin, and you flattened yourself as deeply into his chest as you possibly could. He pressed a kiss to your temple, lingering in the scent of you for as long as he could allow himself to.
His hand stayed glued to you for the remainder of the evening.
Tiny Little Taglist: @sheisjoeschateau @hazydespair @damon-loves-pie @pariahsparadise @anislabonis-love @e509 @alexa4040 @starsforviolet @hoesbloated @luvlexi-darling
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lavandaea · 4 months
Text
*inhales deeply*
There's spoilers ahead so, yeah, be careful.
This weekend episodes have actually broken my soul.
He didn't even need his feelings to be reciprocate, HE JUST WANTED TO BE WITH HER.
Dear writers, some things to ask, why so much screen time to second male lead? Why create such chemistry? Such backstory? (Spoiler alert: that will make us sympathize with the supposed villain) To just fuck*ing rip his heart out and pulverize it like Grandma with the cow bones, yes, just like that.
Let me get this straight, after having been raised in an environment of violence, pain and God knows what else for God knows how long, he falls in love. He experiences ✨feelings✨ ,he puts all his trust in her like never before, he shares his past and then he gets betrayed.
I swear I never seen someone cry so with so much meaning, feeling, with so much back there.
We made progress for the last (at least) five episodes TO JUST END IT IN A SINGLE ONE.
This could have been handled a lot better in a lot of ways and about a lot of topics that I could actually write an essay.
Let's begin the the main leads.
So, in order to have some sort of feeling about ML and FL loving eachother you need to put screen time ON them. Yeah, they support eachother, they have known far before Si Oh, they are funny and a lot of things more. They even kissed and very passionately, wow. Just one thing, Why didn't I even blink during that scene but found myself hitting the pillow and blushing when Si Oh did such mundane things as taking her home, opening doors for her, fixing her purse, hair, looking at her with those "I love you" eyes,👏feeling👏guilty👏about👏making👏her👏uncomfortable👏 with👏his👏feelings👏for👏her HELLO??, WAVING HER BACK WHILE HE WATCHED HER GO, SMILE EVERY DAMN TIME HE SAW HER?
I´ll tell you why. Because I know, thanks to you, that Si Oh was experiencing for the very first time what it's like to have human interaction that doesn't involve violence or having to be wary of everything and everyone all the time. He wanted to connect, to share his whole self, to be happy, to make her happy, to love and be loved. Moreover, I can't help just to feel happy for him, sad, angry, fucking rageous (not more than him, obviously).
Meanwhile, I barely know Hee Sik aka the male lead.
I remember seeing his mother once and I think that's what I understood about his private life. Sorry, I forgot about his deceased brother, that could have been a good topic to develop if it wasn't just mentioned once somewhere in the sixth chapter and left there to rot. Other than that, I know he is a cop, loves his cops friends and loves Nam Soon, also he is really loyal and good person.
Nice👍, very nice. But what else?? Or does the man just exist for his job and girlfriend? Even Shi Oh had some time to box being a drug dealer and full time whipped for her.
I'm just saying that you want me to suddenly dislike someone you took a considerable amount of time explaining but I have to like this good guy because you just pointed at him 👉🧍, and said, "here's the good guy, love him".
Sorry, I cant do that.
If you haven't noticed, you just made a character I fell obliged to sympathize.
If you wanted to make him evil and hot you should have just made him evil and hot.
It worked just as well with Jang Han Seok from Vincenzo.
Not have him have "REDEMPTION" written all over his face just to go with "Actually, no. He has no chance. 😃". It's, for lack of a better term, frustrating. (Absurd)
Instead, maybe you should have dedicated that screen time for the construction of the main leads relationship.
Oh, yes. Another thing since we are talking about the matter.
ML and FL relationship progress got weaker and weaker since she had started to spy on Si Oh. And then one episode was like "Oh, yeah, forgot to tell you, they are actually dating by now" Bom, a kiss. If I need a kiss to know they are in love, there's something going on back there. Something lacking.
Scenes of them in love: well acted, nice, cute, cool, okay. But it is like picking a random romance book and start reading it ten chapters ahead, they are in love, but how this did happen??? Last time I saw them, they were in a friends-and-some-more zone.
Where's the progress?
I know where is it. In the fake relationship, that it was being used just to turn Si Oh into a complete monster with probably not chance of going back.
"You have suffered a lot, yeah, I see. Anyway here's more pain. Suffer more and go cause some trouble because if not, there's, apparently, no plot"
Nice job.
I have been saying this and I will say it again, kdrama writers/directors are not ready for traumatized villains. They are afraid of them.
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