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weirdkpopgirl · 2 months

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Stealing Kisses | Dream Reaction #14

Reaction: When their gf steals a kiss from them

Genre: Fluff, slight angst in some

Warnings: insecure thoughts, kinda suggestive, light making out in Jaemin's, kissing (obviously lol)

Word Count: ~3.1k

Author's Note: This idea came to me last week I think, and I thought it'd be fun to write. I think you guys like this type of stuff too lol. It was also nice to write something sweet and fluffy, a break from my recent stuff. Hope you all like it and thank you for reading ^ ^

P.S. I'm currently have a few fics I'm working on. But I'm going to try writing some shorter stories for the members and group things to fill up my second masterlist.

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mark

The two of you were lying side by side on his bed, your gazes fixed on the ceiling. Mark was sharing his late-night thoughts, and you were listening attentively. Nights like these were a regular occurrence, mostly because Mark often had something weighing on his mind. Though it was usually just him recounting his busy day, tonight things seemed to carry a more serious tone.

“Sometimes, I’m just really not satisfied with myself,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “Like so many people are relying on me— with the company, 127 and Dream. Then there are the fans too, I don’t want to fail them. But no matter how much time and energy I put in, it’s not enough.”

You carefully processed your boyfriend’s concerns, trying to put yourself in his shoes. It was so easy to say he was just overthinking and shouldn’t worry so much. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to do so, given that you faced similar struggles. Those dismissive words weren’t what either of you needed to hear. Mark was undoubtedly the most hardworking person you knew, but you understood all too well the feeling of never quite doing enough.

Before speaking this time, you opted for a different approach of consolation. You shifted around to gently place your hand on his cheek, guiding his gaze towards you. With closed eyes, you leaned in to kiss him softly. Your lips moved slowly against his, hoping he could feel the comfort of your touch. Soon enough, Mark’s hand rested comfortably on your back, reciprocating the affection.

You stifled a light giggle as you pulled away, catching his slightly confused expression. Offering a small smile you used your thumb to caress his cheek reassuringly.

“You’re doing great, Mark,” you whispered sincerely. “You might not think so at times, but I’m always so proud of you.”

And it was those words that caused water to gloss over Mark’s eyes. Then he was pulling you into a much-needed embrace, holding you tightly in his arms. You could feel the warmth of his smile as he mumbled, “Babe, I love you so much.”

Though you didn’t necessarily need to return the words for him to understand, you still said you loved him too. He deserved it, after all. He deserved every bit of love, understanding, and support. And you were more than willing to give it to him, wholeheartedly.

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renjun

You emerged from the kitchen, holding a plate of freshly cut mango in your hand. Renjun was sitting at the table, fully absorbed in the watercolor painting in front of him. Seeing him use the paint set you got for his birthday brought a smile to your face. He was so engrossed in the activity that he almost didn’t hear you sit in the empty chair beside him.

Renjun momentarily glanced up from his artwork to greet you. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you replied quietly, carefully placing the plate of fruit on the table. The two of you shared a smile before his attention was on painting again.

For a moment, you paused to admire the way his focused expression softened his features, making him even more endearing in your eyes. You always found joy in watching your boyfriend immerse himself in the things he loved. Renjun consistently poured his heart and soul into everything he did, and that dedication was one of the many reasons your relationship flourished so beautifully.

After a few minutes passed by of you silently observing the boy, you leaned into place a quick kiss on his cheek. His eyes widened in surprise, and a faint blush followed.

“What was that for?” he asked, voice laced with curiosity.

You simply shrugged in response before confessing, “Just thought you looked cute.”

Renjun’s soft chuckle was like honey for your ears, and you couldn’t suppress a smile. “Oh is that so?” he teased, amusement twinkling in his eyes even as his gaze softened when he looked at you.

Now it was your turn to feel shy, heat naturally rushing to your face. Without a word, you reached for a slice of mango and lifted it to Renjun’s lips, quietly offering the yellow piece of fruit to him. Lucky for you, his eyes sparkled with fondness as he accepted the treat.

However, he didn’t waste the chance to quickly steal a kiss from your lips, before taking a bite. Your eyes mirrored the surprise he had experienced earlier, and Renjun laughed now the tables had been turned. He savored the sweetness of the mango, just as he savored the sweet moment shared between the two of you.

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jeno

You weren’t exactly expecting to return home to Jeno sprawled across your sofa. It was late at night, and you technically should have been back in your apartment much earlier. However, you got caught up in helping your friend rehearse for an audition and lost track of time. If you had known your boyfriend would be coming, you definitely would’ve gone home sooner.

After quietly removing your shoes and shedding off your jacket, you carefully crossed the room to check the man resting on the couch. He looked so peaceful with his eyes blissfully shut and the pillow he held close to his chest. Yet, you couldn’t help but frown, thinking about how he must’ve been exhausted from work. While he never complained, you usually saw through his facade.

With a barely audible sigh, you fetched a cozy blanket to drape over him and tucked it snugly around his sleeping form. Leaning down, your lips pressed to his forehead and let your lips linger for a moment before pulling away. You straightened up, ready to start your nightly routine before heading to bed yourself. However, you froze when a warm hand tugged at your wrist.

“Don’t go,” he murmured, almost sounding like a child begging his mom not to leave.

The unexpected sound of his voice made your heart skip a beat. “Sorry for waking you up,” you apologized sheepishly, turning back to see him.

He shifted over a bit to give you some space, and you sat down beside him. Without thinking, your hand subconsciously moved to stroke his hair gently. He hummed at the sensation, appreciating any sort of affection from you.

“Don’t apologize. I liked it,” he said softly, leaning further into your touch. “Do you always kiss me when I’m asleep?”

“Sometimes,” you admitted quietly, feeling a blush creeping up your cheeks.

A small pout formed on his lips in response. “You should just kiss me when I’m awake so I can give you one back.”

His words would’ve sounded playful if they hadn’t been spoken in such a sulky tone. But of course, you sort of expected this reaction from Jeno. Chuckling softly, your embarrassment gradually began to melt away.

Moving your hand to caress his face, you casually said, “Well you can give me one now if you’d like.”

With your permission, Jeno happily sat up to pull you closer for a kiss that made your head spin. Nonetheless, it was a tender moment that left you both with silly smiles as you parted. Afterward, you took his hand in yours and suggested you both move to the bedroom so he could sleep more comfortably.

Later, as you cuddled up together in bed, Jeno smiled to himself as he felt a rush of love he felt for you. Even though it was past one a.m., he still found himself falling for you all over again.

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haechan

To say the least, Haechan was a little restless just chilling in his apartment with you. Usually, he liked being at home, especially with your company. But the original plan for today was to have a lovely date at Han River, which was forfeited due to the ongoing thunderstorm outside. He regretted not looking at the weather forecast beforehand.

So to cure his self-proclaimed “boredom,” Haechan proposed the idea of playing the pepero game. At first, you tried to decline, knowing that you’d be signing up for endless teasing and blushing on your part. That didn’t sound very fun to you.

“Oh come on, babe!” he pleaded, shaking the pepero box. “I won’t be annoying this time, promise.”

Knowing he was going to keep whining until you agreed, you reluctantly set aside the book you were using to ignore him. “Ugh, fine. But just this once!” you conceded, holding your pointer finger up as a warning.

Haechan grinned triumphantly as he tore open the bag inside the box to retrieve a Pepero stick. He moved to where you were sitting on the couch and lifted the chocolate-covered treat to your lips, gesturing to open it. With a resigned sigh, you reluctantly complied and took the stick with your teeth. Haechan took hold of the other end, his eyes already sparkling with mischief.

As the two of you started nibbling, Haechan promptly contradicted his earlier promise of not being annoying. His eyes sparkled with mischief when you hesitated after he took the next bite, leaving only a few centimeters left. No matter how often you had been in close proximity with your boyfriend, there was something uniquely captivating about the way his warm tan skin was adorned with scattered moles, and how you could get lost in his deep brown eyes. Seeing those features up close always stirred a weirdly fluttery sensation in your heart.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting shy already, (Y/n),” he teased, his words slightly muffled by the long biscuit between his teeth. You merely glared at him in response, unwilling to admit how easily you were influenced by him.

To rebel, you decided to make a bold move of your own this time. Despite your racing heart, you seized the opportunity and bit the remaining piece, but not without planting a swift kiss on his lips. Haechan froze for a moment as you pulled away. A laugh escaped when you saw that he was too stunned to speak. Well, that was one way to shut him up.

Feigning innocence, you asked, “That’s what you wanted, am I wrong?”

It didn’t take long for a grin to spread across the boy’s lips. The initial shock of your unexpected move kiss was replaced by a look of impressed amusement. In the next moment, his right arm encircled your waist, drawing you close once more. You didn’t even have time to blush before his lips began to explore every exposed inch of your skin.

“You’re so bad for me,” he murmured between kisses, his fingers tangling your hair. “But I love it.”

You giggled, surrendering to the warmth of his affection. Maybe you’d be more inclined to indulge in games with Haechan now, knowing they’d end up like this.

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jaemin

In the solace of his apartment, Jaemin observed you interact with his cats in the living room. Usually, he’d be cooing and snapping a hundred pictures of you and his children. However, he wasn’t very amused at the moment.

Na Jaemin never thought he’d be jealous of his babies until he saw Luke rubbing against your leg and hopping into your lap. Your giggly response and the way you tenderly stroked your fingers through the feline’s soft white hair, certainly didn’t make him feel any better. Although he loved his pets dearly, seeing them snuggle up to you so easily made him feel a bit envious.

“Hmmph, it seems like you’ve become more fond of Luke than your own boyfriend,” he scoffed, not even bothering to hide it.

You looked up, noticing how he was resting his head in the palm of his hand, his elbow propped on the couch’s armrest. His body language fully displayed his discontent, and you tried not to laugh. Rolling your eyes, you returned Luke to his siblings and tugged the collar of Jaemin’s hoodie to pull him in for a sweet kiss.

Any negative feelings dissipated instantly as his heart fluttered at the touch of your lips against his. Warmth spread through him like wildfire. But before he could reciprocate the kiss, you pulled away with a playful glint in your eyes.

“Does that make you happy?” you teased, gently pushing him back to give yourself some space.

Adoration shined over Jaemin’s eyes as he grinned. “Hm, I think another one would make me even happier,” he said, his voice husky with desire.

Before you could even respond this time, Jaemin was already leaning in to capture your lips in a passionate kiss that sent sparks flying between you. One of his hands rested on the nape of your neck, allowing him to press his lips harder against yours, while the other was placed firmly on your waist. Though you were initially caught off guard by the sudden intensity of the kiss, you decided to enjoy this moment of intimacy.

As you melted into each other’s arms, Jaemin was reminded once again of just how amazing it felt to be loved by you. Honestly, if he could have one wish, he’d probably wish to kiss you forever.

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chenle

The steaming pot of oxtail soup stared up at you, and you lowered the heat to let it simmer some more. It was your first time cooking the Chinese soup. But recalling how your mom used to make it when you were younger, figuring it on your own hadn’t been too difficult. Although you were mostly confident in your culinary skills, you still wanted to be sure.

“Lele, can you come here for a sec?” you called out to your boyfriend who was probably playing some mobile game in the living room.

You could hear rustling sounds, and soon the sound of slippers padding against the wooden floor reached your ears. “Smells good babe,” he said, shuffling over to your side.

Something about seeing Chenle waddle into the kitchen, wearing a black sweatshirt with the hood over his messy hair, made your heart strangely beat faster. But instead of ignoring that feeling like you usually did, you decided to act on it this time.

After dipping a spoon in the red broth, you raised the utensil to his mouth. “Taste it for me.”

Chenle complied, allowing you to feed him some of the soup. You tried to suppress a laugh as a smug yet impressed expression appeared on his face. However, before he could give you his feedback, you swiftly leaned in to give him a peck.

The male froze for a moment at your actions. You chuckled softly and hugged his waist, as your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. His eyes widened in surprise before the corner of his lips curled into a smirk. A part of him wanted to tease you for stepping out of your shy image, but he also found himself enjoying it a little too much.

“Did you like it?” you asked, glancing up at him innocently.

Chenle’s cocky grin widened as he leaned in closer. His eyes twinkled with mischief, as he used his pointer finger to gently tilt your chin upward. “Wait, let me taste it again to just be sure,” he teased.

It didn’t take much for you to understand that he was not talking about the food. You simply smiled as his lips brushed against yours before he went all in. Shivers danced down your spine as you melted into the electrifying kiss. By the time you finally pulled apart, Chenle was smiling like an idiot.

“Hm, that was delicious,” he breathed, earning a playful smack on the shoulder from you. Even though you had started it, his comment was unnecessary in your opinion. Was he trying to kill you?

Trying to recover from your now flustered state, you returned your attention to the brewing pot on the stove. Chenle’s laugh rang through your ears, and then he was squeezing you into a backhug. It was those types of moments that reassured you that being with Chenle could never be boring.

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jisung

Amidst the dark sky, the street lamps cast a soft, golden glow as you walked back to your apartment. Jisung strolled beside you, holding your hand securely. Occasionally, you smiled to yourself, thinking about how tonight had been another lovely date, filled with laughter, shared stories, and stolen glances that spoke volumes without a single word.

As you neared your apartment building, you felt Jisung’s fingers intertwined with yours tighten. A sense of reluctance washed over him, realizing that he wasn’t ready to say goodbye tonight yet. Your presence always brought Jisung a sense of warmth that made him the happiest when you were together. He wanted to experience that just a little while longer.

Pausing in front of your door, your eyes widened when you were pulled into a tight embrace. Jisung seemed clingier than usual this evening, but you honestly couldn’t complain. You returned the hug by wrapping your arms around his waist and letting your nose press against the oversized hoodie he was wearing. The scent of the perfume Renjun recently bought for him filled your senses. It wasn’t bad, you thought to yourself.

“I miss you already,” Jisung murmured, his chin relaxing against your head.

The soft longing in his voice left your heart melting. These were the types of words you expected to read in texts from Jisung. So hearing them in person was even more touching. A smile tugged on your lips and you pulled away slightly to glance around, ensuring there were no cameras around. Once you confirmed there were no prying eyes that might stir trouble for either of you, you reached up on your tiptoes and pressed a quick but passionate kiss to Jisung’s lips.

He blinked in surprise, heat immediately rushing to his cheeks as the unexpected affection registered through his mind. Any kiss from you always made his heart flutter and left him wearing a shy smile. Nonetheless, witnessing the fondness in your eyes as you were blushing too was irresistible for Jisung.

Chuckling he moved his hand to gently pat your head. “Cute.”

You blushed a little at his words and squeezed in one last hug before he reluctantly released you to head inside.

“I love you, Ji,” you said quietly, glancing back one last time to ensure he heard you. He exhaled shakily and said he loved you more.

There was an unspoken sadness shared between you, both feeling the weight of the parting. The two of you were uncertain of when or where you’d meet again. However, you found comfort in the knowledge that the love you had with Jisung was too strong to let too much time pass without seeing each other. In the meantime, you would cherish those precious memories together.

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previous masterlist -> new masterlist

#nct dream #nctzen #kpop #czennie #nct dream imagines #nct #jeno #nct dream fluff #jaemin #renjun #mark #haechan #jisung #chenle #nct dream x reader #nct dream reactions #7dream #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios

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finelinevogue · 3 months

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pancakes for two

summary - seeing your niece for the first time

word count - ~1k

pairing - husband!harry x reader

You made pancakes for breakfast on a Saturday.

It was a routine at this point and would be rude not to have pancakes after your morning jog with Harry.

Harry tended to make himself banana pancakes, because he hated not having some fruit in there somehow, but you were all for the nutella and other loaded toppings.

You had both just finished your pancakes, dirty plates on the coffee table in front of you and cups of tea to hand as you watched ‘This Morning’ on ITV.

Even after having been on a run and eaten pancakes, your day was about to get so much better.

“Remind me that I need to pick up more loo roll the next time I go to the shops.” You said to Harry.

“Thought we bought loads?”

His free hand rested on your ankle from where your legs were stretched out on his lap.

“Yeah, but we gave a lot to Gem remember?”

“Oh shit, yes. We can go later if you want? I’ll take you?” He offered.

“The last thing I want to do is leave the house on the one day where you’re not busy preparing for baby number 4.” You laughed, taking a sip of your Yorkshire Gold tea.

“Baby number 4?” It was Harry’s turn to chuckle.

“Album? Baby? Same thing. They’re all your children.”

He tapped your ankle playfully.

Harry had been working so hard on planning for the next phase of his career and you were so happy to see him get excited and creative again.

Music is where he thrived and it was a joy to watch him work. However it did mean he was gone more than you wanted him to be, so quiet weekends like this were absolutely necessary.

Harry missed you just as much and he was constantly lucky that it was you waiting for him at home.

He’d been working so hard that he hadn’t even had a moment to see his sister since she gave birth.

It was only a week ago, but Gemma was still recovering and requested that the three of them just had some quiet time to let the new reality to settle in.

Now, Harry was restless to see his niece.

You scrolled through your phone when it suddenly made a Ring doorbell noise.

“Yes! I bet that’s my Waterstones parcel.” You said excitedly, sitting up and setting your tea on the coffee table.

“Another one?”

You hit Harry’s thigh playfully, “Shut up!” Although he did have a valid point.

You waited for the doorbell to ring, before jumping up and making your way to the front. You made a note to shout at Harry for - yet again - leaving his coat on the banister and not put back on coat rack.

You unlocked and opened the door, expecting the delivery guy but were met with Gemma, Michal and baby instead.

“Oh my God!” You shouted, cupping your hands over your mouth in shock.

“Surprise!” Gemma laughed, baby carrier on Michal’s arm and baby bags too.

You started tearing up then, emotional over how beautiful Gemma was after recently giving birth. She was glowing and looked incredible. They both looked so happy too.

“Y/N/N?” Harry called your nickname.

He rounded the corner only to stop short.

“Look who showed up.” You allowed the tears to drop down your face.

“Hey, bro.” Gemma smiled.

“Hi, H!” Michal smiled at Gemma’s smile.

Harry, ever the emotional man, broke down in little sobs then. He pouted when he cried and probably had the same thoughts as you initially did.

“Come in. Come on.” You ushered them in.

You gave Gemma a big hug first, squeezing her but not too tight, and kissed her cheeks.

Then you hugged Michal, careful to avoid all his extra baggage.

“How are you?” You asked Michal, as Gemma went over to speak and probably console Harry.

“Tired, but never been happier.” He genuinely smiled.

“Can I take anything from you?”

“No, I’m just going to dump them here if that’s okay?” He motioned to the space in the hall.

“Of course, go ahead.”

“You want a tea? Coffee?” You offered.

“Coffee, please. No sugar. Gem will probably just have water.”

You nodded and walked through the hallway and into the kitchen. Gemma and Harry were still hugging, softly talking to one another. You left them to it, not wanting to disrupt the siblings reunion.

You wiped your own tears with your sweater, before pottering around the kitchen.

“So let me see my niece then!” You demanded as Michal placed the carrier on the kitchen island.

He opened the visor and you had to choke back a sob as you saw how small your new niece was - your new best friend.

“Oh my God.” You whispered.

“I know. I keep having the same reaction, even now.” Michal chuckled.

Gemma and Harry walked in a few seconds later - Harry with red eyes and Gemma smiling like a madwoman.

You leaned forwards and brushed your finger over your nieces tiny bunched fist. Her skin was so soft and she didn’t budge at all with the tap from you.

“She’s beautiful, guys.” You whispered.

“She really is.” Gemma agreed.

“She’s a Styles if I ever saw one. No offence Michal.”

“None taken.” Michal genuinely didn’t seem offended.

You stepped back to let Harry have a gaze over his new niece, wrapped in her blankets and knitted bonnets. There were so many blankets you wondered whether she was cooking underneath them all!

It wasn’t your turn to know anything about kids or parenting though, yet, so you weren’t going to question anything.

Harry approached his niece and softly caressed over her small hand and over her quite chubby cheeks.

You cupped a hand over your mouth as you teared up from watching Harry interact with a baby.

“It’s too much!” You cried, laughing like an idiot.

Gemma and Michal watched you with soft expressions.

Harry moved towards you then, “Hey. What’s up?” He asked, pulling you in for a big hug. The best hugs.

“I think i’ve got a heavy case of baby fever right now.”

Harry pulled you away a bit to read your face, “You do?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay.” He smiled.

“Okay, what?” You stepped back.

“Let’s try. For a baby, I mean.”

“Really?” You eyes filled with tears. “You mean it?”

“A baby with you? It would make all those birthday and shooting star wishes come true.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fan fic

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bowlofsoob · 6 months

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HE ACCIDENTALLY KISSES YOU ON STREAM

choi yeonjun x gender neutral reader

you, a rather private but popular twitch streamer, go live one night for your fans. you and your boyfriend yeonjun have been pretending to be rival steamers online for the fun of it. but yeonjun forgets your schedule that week and barges in to greet you, not realizing the camera was on. fans go wild.

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The lights emitting off the multiple monitors that surround you bathes your room in a soft glow as you sit in front of your gaming setup, fully immersed in the Twitch livestream. The chat is buzzing with messages from your viewers and you were so engrossed in the game you didn’t even realize the door swinging open beside you followed by your boyfriend entering with a grin on his face.

Yeonjun hadn’t seen you in a week and like an eager puppy had run through your apartment to come find you. He was blissfully unaware of your ongoing stream as he approaches you from behind and wraps his arms around you, planting a quick kiss on your cheek.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmurs, resting his chin on your head and playing with your hair.

You immediately flinch in your chair, fingers flying off the controller which results in your character falling to their death as you try to process the situation. The chat is speeding by with emojis and comments as your viewers witness your sworn enemy draping himself all over you. You can already see the article headlines that will surely be released tomorrow about you and Yeonjun.

“Yeonjun,” you whisper, startled, “What are you doing?” you ask, voice strained.

Yeonjun, still clueless about the live stream, merely lets out a quiet giggle and leans in for another kiss, this time on the lips. You manage to pull away just in time, confusing Yeonjun and leaving him with a pout.

“Why are you so stiff?” Yeonjun questions, pinching your cheek.

“I’m on stream,” you quietly say, gesturing to the camera.

Yeonjun's playful expression fades instantly as he follows your gaze and spots the camera, realization dawning on him.

“Oh,” he whispers, removing himself from you and covering his mouth with his palm as he gasps, “Fuck.”

He steps away from the camera as his face flushes pink, embarrassed.

“I should go” Yeonjun awkwardly says.

He offers a sheepish smile to the camera and hastily walks off-screen, leaving you to face your amused chat alone. The weight of the situation starts to sink in as your eyes dart between the chat, where everyone was unaware of the sudden tension in the room as their messages were buzzing with excitement, and the empty space Yeonjun had just occupied.

“I have to go,” you quickly say, “technical difficulties,” you lamely explain.

You fumble with the controls, ending the stream abruptly. The chat reacts with confusion as the screen goes black.

Smooth, Yn, real smooth.

The room is now quiet, the monitors still displaying the remnants of the abruptly ended Twitch stream. You get out of your chair and make your way out to find Yeonjun sitting on your couch with a solemn expression.

He immediately shoots up from his seat when you approach, a string of apologies leaving his lips.

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve checked if you were busy.”

You feel a mix of frustration and amusement towards his actions, but couldn’t find it in you to be mad.

“No kidding,” you sigh.

Yeonjun sighs, running a hand through his hair as he sits back down.

“I didn’t mean to mess things up. I just missed you, and I got carried away,” he frowns.

You feel your expression soften as you walk forward to sit beside him, any feeling of frustration dissipating.

“It’s okay, it was about time anyway,” you console, resting your palm on his thigh and giving it a squeeze, “I missed you.”

“You’re fine?” he asks, turning towards you, “I know you liked pretending we hated one another.”

“It was fun, yeah. But I enjoy liking you more,” you hum, “Now we can film together.”

“As long as you aren’t mad, I was shitting my pants,” he says, letting out a sigh of relief as he leans back into the couch, “Can I get my kiss now?”

“Whatever,” you smile, clambering onto his lap as his arms snake around your waist with a familiar ease.

He lazily smiles up at you as you lean in, closing the distance between you both. His hand slides underneath your top and gently kneads your skin as he kisses you with a fervor of someone who hasn’t seen their lover in a week.

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#txt smau #txt x reader #txt x gn reader #txt x gender neutral reader #yeonjun smau #yeonjun x gender neutral reader #yeonjun x gn reader #yeonjun x y/n #yeonjun x you #yeonjun x reader #choi yeonjun smau #choi yeonjun x reader #choi yeonjun x you

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overtail · 1 month

Note

hii can i request you weite zuko x chubby/plus sized reader? specifically just general dating headcanons (and possibly some smut hcs if you feel like writing that). id prefer a gender neutral reader but im not very picky about that type of thing. i love ur writing btw!!

ONG TY FOR THAT! Exposing myself here but I'm actually a chubby person (lore drop im not a girl) so this is very heartwarming for me :33

...

Zuko Headcannons - Dating a Chubby/Plus-Sized Reader

this is not meant to romanticize eating disorders

meeting you ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

-when you walked into the tea shop, he thought you were the most beautiful person hes ever seen

-'hey uncle, i can serve them'

-immediately wanted to talk to you

-he was extremely nervous, acting like a lost turtleduck

-'what? jas..jasmine tea! oh yeah.'

-gave you an extra cookie

-always waves to you when you come in

-was excited when iroh told him that you asked where Zuko was when he was sick at home

-you're his favorite customer

-'Lee. My name's Lee.'

knowing you ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

-after a while, Iroh hired you at the Jasmine Dragon when he got the shop

-you and zuko became very close

-you two had sleepovers at his and iroh's shared apartment

-iroh would make you guys sleep in the livingroom

-loved the way your waiter uniform hugged your curves

-would make you food all the time, even when you insisted you werent hungry

-protective whenever you served boys your age

-you came with him and iroh to serve tea at the palace to the king

-'zuko? you're the prince of the fire nation?'

-you werent as angry as he thought you would be

-you were locked up with him and katara in the catacombs

-came with him when he chose to fight alongside azula

dating him (royalty) ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

-when zuko started living in the palace again, he immediately offered for you to live with him

-a week later, he confessed

-he told you how you were the most gorgeous person he's ever seen

-how you looked like a painting from the renaissance

-held you close at night when you two slept

-assigned a special place in the palace for your special interests

-noticed when you stopped eating much

-tried to offer you as much food as possible

-was confused when he saw you throwing up after dinner

-'(y/n)? did you get food poisoning?'

-consoled you when you started crying about your body

-'it's the one i imagined in my dreams.'

-🔞kissed your arms, your neck, your stomach and your thighs

-he loved seeing your stretch marks

-🔞seeing you naked for the first time was a dream come true

dating him (redemption) ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

-you refused to let him go work with the avatar without you

-was there when he told ozai about wanting to be better

-comforted him when he learned the truth about his mom

-helped him create his introduction to the gaang

-'hello, zuko here!' *you laugh*

-fully defended him when nobody trusted him

-got angry when katara called you a traitor too

-cooked you lots of food while camping out

-always worshipping your body whenever alone

dating him (firelord) ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

-immediately proposed to you after his coronation

-🔞got busy as soon as you guys got in your room on your wedding night

-loved getting clothes that hugged your body

-you were always there with him

-'what do mean they shouldn't be in this meeting?

-did anything to make you happy

-got you an extra cookie whenever you wanted a meal to remind you of when you guys first met

-very possesive of you

-beat the shit out of a soldier that made a rude comment about your body

#avatar the last airbender #fandom #fanfic #fluff #sokka #katara #aang #smut #zuko x reader #prince zuko #atla zuko #zuko #chubby

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brbsoulnomming · 5 months

Text

WHERE NOBODY KNOWS YOUR NAME

For: @sharpbutsoft

Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: Teen

Wordcount: 14.9k

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, mention of alcohol and financial exploitation of child stars

Tags: Famous Steve Harrington, Bartender Eddie Munson, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Happy Ending, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Snapshots

Summary: A drop dead gorgeous man walks into The Hideout one night while Eddie's bartending, and Eddie's absolutely determined to flirt with him. What follows is snapshots of the two of them growing closer and closer, all while Eddie's absolutely oblivious to the fact that Steve's secretly one half of the famous pop duo Scoops Troop.

This fic is a part of the @steddieholidayexchange

-----

The prettiest man that Eddie has ever seen walks through the door of the Hideout, and Eddie damn near drops the glass he was rinsing out. It's not like their town's small enough that Eddie could actually recognize everyone in it, and the Hideout gets enough business that Eddie doesn't know everyone who comes in, but still, he was not expecting to get hit in the face with that kind of handsome on his shift tonight.

Sure, the nearby resort is a particular favorite among the wealthy elite - Eddie even heard there was one douchebag pop singer who booked the entire place for two weeks in the spring, apparently just so he wouldn't have to associate with any other guests - but they usually stay on the resort. It's rare for any of them to venture out into the town itself.

Pretty boy is wearing a dark blue polo with Hawkins Hope in Action stitched in yellow across his shirt pocket, which Eddie definitely does not notice purely because he's admiring the way it stretches across his chest. He takes an empty seat at the bar, pushing one hand through his hair as he scans the chalkboard specials they've got on display.

"You think it's as soft as it looks?" Chrissy asks, nudging him with her hip as she joins him in absolutely not just staring at the guy from the backroom.

He huffs out a little laugh. "I think you've got a better chance at me than figuring that out, Chris."

Still, he's fully prepared to head out there and try on at least a little bit of charm, until Jeff comes up next to them.

"I think Chrissy should head out there for a while," he says.

Eddie turns to fix him with a betrayed look. "What? Come on, man, I said Chrissy had a better chance, not that I had no chance."

Jeff nods towards the guy. "Look at him, he's all on edge."

And it's true - the guy's perched on the bar stool like he expects to have to bolt at any minute, and he's started to hunch in on himself like he's trying to take up as little space as possible.

It's kind of sad, actually, which unfortunately doesn't make him any less cute.

"So?" Eddie asks.

"So you know I love you, man, but you can be kind of a lot," Jeff says apologetically.

Eddie gasps, whirling to face Chrissy. "Can you believe this?"

Her nose is a little crinkled, lips turned down the way she does when there's a hard truth she doesn't want to tell him. "You're not always the most soothing presence," she admits.

He lurches back dramatically, hand over his heart. "Complete and utter betrayal, from my own best friends no less."

Jeff pats him on the shoulder. "You'll get over it."

"You can talk to him next time," Chrissy offers.

Which, considering pretty boy is probably staying at the resort and not going to come back, is small consolation.

But, well. He's probably staying at the resort and not coming back, so Eddie guesses he really isn't losing out on much by not getting to talk to him.

At least he can enjoy the eye candy.

He keeps an eye on them at first, only partially because of said eye candy - Chrissy can handle herself, but if the guy is going to be the typical resort douche, Eddie won't hesitate to come back her up. Pretty boy starts to relax a little the longer he's there, though, and Chrissy's doing the genuine smile she does when she has a good customer, so he doesn't worry about it.

By the time the guy leaves, Eddie's heard the sound of them laughing a few times.

"His laugh is just as pretty as the rest of him," Eddie sighs to Chrissy as they watch him leave.

"His name is Steve," Chrissy replies. "He works for that charity that's booked the resort this weekend for a fundraising event."

"That explains what he was doing here," Eddie jokes. "I knew we wouldn't see a resort guest slumming it at the Hideout."

Chrissy rolls her eyes at him, but she doesn't disagree. "They work with kids in the foster care system," she says mildly. "They put on camps and events and things for the kids to come to, do fundraising to get money to support them. He spends most of his time with the kids.”

Eddie groans. “No, come on, that's not fair,” he whines. “Handsome and a pretty laugh and he works for a charity and it's for foster kids and he's likes spending time with them? He's gotta have some flaws. Maybe he's actually terrible with kids, maybe they all hate him.”

Chrissy giggles. “Maybe he leaves his wet towels all over the floor.”

Eddie nods. “Maybe he sings off key in the shower and it's awful and he won't stop.”

Chrissy gives him a little shove. “Well, Steve says they've booked the resort for a few camps and events throughout the rest of the year, so you'll have plenty of time to find out.”

“If he comes back,” Eddie points out.

“Oh, I have a feeling he'll come back,” she replies.

—

Steve comes back.

It's just him behind the bar tonight, with Gareth and Grant back in the kitchen, so Eddie spends a moment quietly collecting himself before he heads over.

Eddie shoots him a smile. "Hi."

"Hey," Steve returns, smiling at him in return - though it seems practiced, nothing like the soft, warm smile Eddie'd seen him give Chrissy when he left the other night.

Ouch.

"Chrissy's not working tonight," Eddie says, trying not to let his disappointment show.

Steve's face scrunches in confusion, a little furrow between his brow that Eddie has the immediate urge to reach out to try to smooth with his thumb.

What is wrong with him? He's usually way better at not letting customers get under his skin.

"Thanks for telling me?" Steve says, the end of the sentence raised up in a question like he's not quite sure he's giving the correct response.

"Just thought I'd let you know, in case you came back in hoping to see her again," Eddie says.

Steve's expression smooths out. "Oh. Nah, I just really liked the… atmosphere…"

He trails off, clearly aware of how what he's saying sounds, but Eddie makes a point of scanning around the bar anyway - it isn't empty, but it's not exactly crowded, either, occupied mostly by small groups who stick to themselves or solo patrons who are more interested in their drinks than engaging in conversation with other customers.

No one's paying the slightest bit of attention to them.

He cocks an eyebrow as he looks back at Steve, and now the smile he gets is a little less practiced, a little more genuinely pleased - maybe even a little teasing.

"Exactly," Steve agrees. "What's not to like about a place where nobody knows your name?

Eddie barks out a little laugh. "Not nobody," he returns. "It's Steve, right? I'm Eddie. What can I get you?"

He calls Steve's order of onion rings back to Gareth, then grabs a glass to get his beer.

"So, Chrissy said you work with the charity that rented out the resort?" he asks. "What do you do for them?"

Steve lights up a little at the question, which, unfortunately, makes him even prettier.

"I'm the activities director," Steve replies.

Eddie raises his eyebrows as he sets Steve's beer in front of him, inviting him to continue.

“I plan all the stuff for the kids to do at camp,” Steve clarifies.

His eyebrows go even higher. “That sounds exhausting.”

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “Sometimes,” he admits. “But I don't, like, personally do all of them. Some of the other staff will take lead on things that interest them - like Nancy does journalism and writing workshops, and Lucas picked up basketball, Jon does photography, and Robin's doing film watching and analysis. We actually do a lot of partnerships, too, get people to come in and do guest spots leading activities for like a week.”

Right, Eddie's pretty sure he heard that Hawkins Hope was a celebrity sponsored charity. Makes sense why they're able to afford using the resort for things.

“So what do you take lead on, then?” Eddie asks, mentally hi-fiving himself for finding an effortless way to ask Steve about his interests.

He's pretty sure it doesn't go unnoticed, because Steve blinks at him for a moment before he gives him just a little bit of a smirk.

It's a good look on him, though, so Eddie doesn't mind one bit.

“Swimming,” Steve replies. “Mostly lifeguarding, if we're somewhere on the water, and I do lessons. Baseball in the summer. Ice skating in the winter. Music, sometimes. Cooking. I'll pretty much fill in whenever I need to.”

Eddie's not surprised that the majority of those were sports, but it does mean he flounders a little bit in the next step of his plan - find a common interest and get his flirt on. He's a decent enough cook, but it's not exactly something he does for fun. Which means he's got one option left, and he latches onto it eagerly.

“What kind of music?” he asks.

Steve watches him for a moment, like he's waiting for the punchline. Or waiting to be judged, maybe - maybe the guy only likes Top 40s and is used to being looked down on from guys wearing Dio t-shirts.

And all right, Eddie might judge him a little - but only teasingly, and only if he knew him better. So he just waits, hoping he looks as genuine as he means to.

“I'm not picky,” Steve says finally. “I can find the merit in just about anything. It's not about the genre to me - it's about how the song makes you feel, if you can connect with the lyrics or if the music stirs some kind of emotion in you that you didn't even know was there.”

Oh.

“I get that,” Eddie says.

“Yeah?” Steve asks.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “Like - it's not what I usually listen to, and it's not what people expect, but my mom loved Bluegrass and country. I hear it now and it makes me think of her. I still end up singing Hazel Dickens or Loretta Lynn when I clean the kitchen, makes me feel like she's there with me.”

And there's that soft, warm smile that Eddie'd briefly seen him give Chrissy - only now it's even worse because it's directed at him, and it keeps lingering.

“Yeah,” Steve says again, but this time it sounds like you really do get it.

“So, it, uh, sounds like you like what you do,” Eddie says.

“I love what I do,” Steve agrees. “What about you?”

Eddie shrugs. “Can't complain. I get a lot of freedom here, actually. I'm the one that comes up with most of the drinks on our specials list.”

That's usually the most he goes into it, but Steve's still looking at him, so much less closed off than he was when he first came in, and he leans in like he's interested.

So when Steve asks him to tell him more about it, Eddie does. How it's not what he thought he'd be doing after high school, but then, he hadn't really given a lot of thought to much of anything after high school while he was still there, too busy just trying to graduate. How he likes the people he works with and the Hideout itself, how much fun it is coming up with his own drinks, how he's gotten to the point where he can figure out the best drink for someone before they even know what it is themselves.

And all right, he'd maybe been bragging a little, maybe said that with just a little bit of a cocky smirk to see the reaction he gets, but he's still a little bit surprised when Steve picks up on it and gives it back.

“Yeah?” Steve asks. “Do me, then.”

Eddie smiles at him, pleased. “What's the first cocktail you order when you go somewhere new?”

“House special,” Steve replies immediately, shooting him a little smirk.

Eddie gives him a look.

“It's true!” Steve insists. “I can get an old fashioned or a margarita anywhere, but the house special is usually something unique.”

Eddie considers that. “What's your go to drink if you're making yourself something at home?”

“Lemon drop,” Steve says. “They're my best friend's favorite, I learned how to make them for her. It's the only drink I can pull off that isn't just popping a can of beer or pouring a glass of wine.”

Eddie hums. He already knows Steve's taste in beers, so - “Red or white wine?”

“White in the summer, red in the winter,” Steve replies.

“Whiskey or tequila?”

“Whiskey.”

“Apple cider or hot chocolate?”

“Apple cider.”

Eddie manages to fire off questions like that for a while, and Steve even plays along when he asks him something that clearly has little to do with his drink preferences - though Eddie is absolutely ready to spin a tale about how it's vital to know if someone is a summer or a winter person for flavor choices, and being a romance or a horror fan will tell him how adventurous they are if Steve questions it.

Steve doesn't call him on it, though he does raise one eyebrow and give him a little smirk at each one, which leads to Eddie dropping into his explanation, anyway.

He wants someone to appreciate his brilliance.

It makes Steve laugh, warm and a little surprised, like he hadn't been expecting it. “Does that excuse work?”

“I don't know,” Eddie admits. “I haven't tried it on anyone else. What do you think?”

Steve hums, eying Eddie up and down in a way that, ridiculously, makes Eddie want to hide behind his hair.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “I could see it working. Depends on how good your drink ends up being.”

That gets Eddie back on more confident ground, and he points dramatically at him. “Prepare to be wowed.”

Steve's an autumn person who likes apple cider, whiskey, and action films, so Eddie makes him a spin on a whiskey highball with ginger ale, apple juice, and cinnamon simple syrup.

Steve takes one sip and immediately looks delighted. It's far from the first time that Eddie's gotten that reaction, but coming from Steve, well.

Eddie doesn't want to say that it makes his whole week, but it kind of makes his whole week.

“This is amazing,” Steve says. “You do this all the time?”

“Eh, just when I feel like showing off,” Eddie finds himself saying, which is true but is definitely not what he wanted to admit to.

Steve's finally looking reasonably relaxed, though, so he can't bring himself to regret it.

“I hope you know you've set yourself up for having to do this every time I come in,” Steve tells him.

Eddie grins. “I'm holding you to that. Better not see you getting drinks from one of the other bartenders here,” he teases.

He's joking - really, he is - but when Steve laughs and agrees, well.

Okay, maybe he kind of means it.

—

It's Eddie's day off, but he's at the Hideout anyway.

He'd feel more pathetic about that if it weren't for the fact that it's Jeff and Gareth's night off, too, and they're also at the Hideout.

It's a slower night, so they're just sitting at the bar drinking beer and heckling Grant while the regulars ignore them and their antics. Or, well, he and Gareth are heckling Grant - Jeff is shifting back and forth between taking their side and taking Grant's, claiming neutrality with a gleam in his eyes that says he knows exactly what he's doing.

Even though he's not working, Eddie still looks up on instinct when the door opens - and then grins when he recognizes Steve.

He flings himself around the other side of the bar, ignoring Jeff and Gareth's surprised exclamations, and very heroically manages to not immediately wave Steve over. He plans to wait until Steve's come to sit at the far corner of the bar, then slide on up to him, but - Steve sees him and immediately makes a beeline to grab a seat in front of him.

Oh.

“Hey, Eddie,” Steve greets with a smile.

“Hey, Steve, what can I get you?” Eddie asks.

“I don't know.” Steve raises an eyebrow at him, expression almost playful. “You're the expert, right? What can you get me?”

“What is happening right now?” Gareth asks, immediately squashing the little thrill Eddie'd gotten at Steve's words.

“What's happening right now is that I'm trying to serve an actual paying customer, so why don't you two go find a table to sit at and shoo,” Eddie grumbles at him.

“Come on, Gar, let's quit bothering Eddie,” Jeff says, pushing away from the bar and tugging Gareth with him.

Fuck, Jeff is Eddie's favorite forever, he's going to owe him -

“Eddie's apparently decided to throw in a little free labor for us tonight,” Jeff calls back as they saunter off towards an open table.

Never mind, Eddie hates him.

Steve's brow furrows, and he looks up at Eddie expectantly.

“It's my night off,” Eddie admits.

“Eddie!” Steve chides.

“It's just one drink,” Eddie protests.

Steve rolls his eyes at him. “Uh-huh. What if I wanted more than one drink, were you going to hang out here all night?”

“Maybe,” Eddie grumbles.

Steve laughs at him, but it's soft and - well. It might just be Eddie's wishful thinking, but it sounds almost fond. “Go hang out with your friends. You can get me next time.”

Eddie sulks for a moment - like they're friends, like Steve is scolding him over a stupid decision and Eddie's whining at him about how it totally makes sense, really.

Wait.

“Come sit at the table with us,” Eddie says. “I can give you recommendations on what to order.”

Steve hesitates. “Your friends won't mind?”

“Nah. They love heckling me, so I'm sure they'll get a kick out of it. Come on, it'll be fun.”

Despite his words, Eddie's actually a little nervous that Steve won't get along with Jeff and Gareth, or that the tense, rigid way Steve had held himself when he first came to the bar will come back, but by the time Steve's two drinks in, he's folded almost seamlessly in with the three of them.

Jeff and Steve like the same baseball team, apparently, and he gets Gareth talking about ice skating in a way that makes him light up - a way that might make Eddie a little jealous, if Steve didn't keep catching Eddie's eyes and smiling at him.

Steve even gets a couple of their Lord of the Rings jokes, though he admits he hasn't read the books himself, just picked up on some things from the kids he used to babysit. The way he talks about this Dustin kid makes him sound more like a little brother than anything else, and it's really sweet.

Shit, he's probably not terrible with the kids. Maybe Eddie better hold out hope for the wet towels or the terrible shower singing.

It's probably pretty damn late when Eddie hears the door open, and glances over. The man walking in is unfamiliar, but he's looking around the bar with a sense of purpose that makes Eddie grimace.

“We're all up to date on our liquor license and everything, right?” Eddie asks in a low voice.

Jeff frowns at him. “Of course. Why?”

“Check your ten o'clock,” Eddie says, purposefully adding in a little flair like he's a spy operative keeping an eye out for the enemy. “He's just screaming off duty cop.”

Both Jeff and Gareth crane their heads to look, leaving Eddie to sigh internally, but Steve plays along, tipping his head in towards Eddie like they're sharing a moment.

Steve's face is so close to his that he can feel the soft puff of air on his cheek when he breathes out, can see the whites of his eyes as his gaze flicks towards the door. Then he grins, and Eddie can see the way it makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.

Fuck, Eddie should be ridiculous around Steve more often.

“Retired cop, maybe,” Steve replies. “He's here for me. I, uh. I must have missed my curfew.”

Eddie looks back over at the guy, who must have spotted Steve, because he's making his way towards them.

“You still have a curfew?” Eddie teases.

“Shut up,” Steve says, but his smile hasn't faded.

“No, it's cute,” Eddie says. And honestly - it is. “Your dad is your ride when you've had a few too many to drink?”

Steve's eyes darken briefly. “My dad's an asshole,” he mutters, something cracked and bitter in his tone that Eddie's pretty sure wouldn't be there if Steve was entirely sober. “He wouldn't be caught anywhere near somewhere like this, or me in general.”

Well, shit, leave it to Eddie to open his mouth and accidentally step in it.

“Hey,” Eddie says, bumping his shoulder against Steve's. “Mine, too. Fuck ‘em, right? We're better off without them.”

“Better off without who?” Retired Cop asks as he stops in front of their table.

“Our terrible, horrible, no good, very bad fathers,” Eddie replies immediately, shooting Retired Cop what he hopes is a very charming grin.

It must be, considering Steve is back to smiling, and now he's looking at Eddie all soft and pleased.

Retired Cop grunts in what Eddie is going to optimistically assume is agreement.

“Hey, Hopper,” Steve greets. “This is Eddie, Jeff, and Gareth. Hopper's the head of security for Hawkins Heroes.”

“Among other things,” Hopper comments drily.

Eddie's going to guess those other things include picking up wayward activity directors when they stay out too late.

Steve looks a little abashed. “Sorry, lost track of time.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hopper grumbles. “Get your shit and let's get going.”

“Thanks for letting me hang out with you guys,” Steve tells them.

“You kidding?” Jeff asks. “It was great, man.”

“Come back any time,” Gareth agrees.

“I'll have a new drink ready for you,” Eddie promises.

Somewhat foolishly, considering he knows that Jeff and Gareth are going to tease him about that, but the smile he gets flashed at him is well worth it.

“I still gotta settle the tab,” he hears Steve tell Hopper as they head out, but he's too distracted by Jeff and Gareth's smirks to think anything of it.

“Not a word,” Eddie threatens before either of them can say anything.

“Wouldn't dream of it,” Gareth replies, batting his eyelashes at him instead of saying anything.

“Just let me know when you have the drink ready,” Jeff agrees mildly. “We can call it Steve's Special.”

Gareth and Jeff fistbump each other while Eddie rolls his eyes and shoves himself up out of his chair.

He ignores their laughter as he heads over April, who's behind the register at the moment.

“What's my damage for the night?” he asks.

“Your friend already paid,” she tells him.

“Okay?” He frowns at her, a little too tipsy to make any kind of connection between his question and her answer. “I mean, I'm glad he didn't duck out on his tab and leave me stuck with it, but I'd still like to pay mine?”

She rolls her eyes. “No, you moron, he paid for all of you.”

Eddie gapes at her. “He what?”

April smirks at him. “Guy that good looking, and he picks up the tab for you and those two? I'd hang onto him.”

Eddie's pretty sure his cheeks are bright red. He covers it up by muttering, “Son of a bitch. I'll get him for this.”

—

Steve's already at the bar when Eddie arrives for his shift that night, which instantly makes him perk up.

His crush on the guy is probably a little bit out of control, but eh, that's future Eddie's problem. Tonight Eddie gets the pleasure of some very nice eye candy all night, on top of the security of knowing he's going to have an awesome interaction with at least one patron.

Steve's clearly been there at least a little while, since there's a half eaten plate of loaded fries and a beer in front of him, and he's chatting enthusiastically with Grant.

Well.

Maybe chatting is the wrong word for it, now that Eddie gets a closer look at them.

Steve's leaning in, one elbow braced on the bartop with his gaze focused intently on Grant, as if he was the only person in the room. He's saying something in what must be a low tone, considering Grant's leaning back in to hear him. And is that -

Yup, that's a faint pink flush to Grant's cheeks.

Eddie gapes.

"Is Steve flirting with Grant?" he hisses the moment he finds Chrissy.

Chrissy rolls her eyes. "They got into an argument about pick up lines. Grant said pick up lines are shitty and cliche and don't work, and Steve insisted it's not about them being lines, it's about delivery and intention."

"So they're… flirting to prove a point?"

Damn it, why didn't Eddie think of that?

Chrissy's smiling at him, that sweet little grin she gives him when she knows exactly what's going on in his head. "Why don't you go over there and tell Steve where you sit on the pick up line debate?"

Eddie hip checks her, but, well.

It's not a bad idea.

He does go over, if only because he wants to say hi before he actually starts working.

He hears Grant laughing as he gets closer, but it sounds a little strained.

"Hey," Steve says quietly. "I meant all of it, you know. I wouldn't have said anything I didn't think was true. Any girl would be lucky to have you. Or, uh, guy, if you swung that way."

"You're kind of making me wish I swung that way," Grant teases, but there's something sincerely appreciative in his voice that tells Eddie that they'd been talking about more than just an argument about pick up lines.

If Steve could stop being so kind to his friends, that would really help out Eddie's stupid heart.

He tells himself very firmly to absolutely not think into the fact that Steve's apparently okay with guys dating other guys.

Instead, he stalks up to the counter as Grant walks away, pointing accusingly at Steve.

“I caught you!” he informs him. “What, did you think you could hide it from me? That I wouldn't notice? You're in so much trouble.”

Eddie's not sure what he's expecting, but it isn't for Steve's expression to completely crumble. He sags in the chair for a moment, then Eddie watches him visibly pull himself together, straightening up and looking solemnly at Eddie.

“Okay,” Steve says, very quietly. “How do you want to do this?”

And that - completely deflates the wind in Eddie's sails.

“You're not like, actually in trouble, dude,” Eddie tells him. “I just can't believe you thought you could pay our tabs and we wouldn't realize it.”

Steve's brow furrows, then smooths out. “Oh!”

It's clearly a startled little realization, which immediately makes Eddie narrow his eyes.

“What did you think I was talking about?” he asks.

“I, uh. I guess I just wasn't sure what I did to upset you?”

Eddie considers that. It's possible - but Steve hadn't looked confused, he'd looked resigned. Like there was a secret that he was keeping, and he hadn't been expecting to be able to continue to keep it, and he was pretty sure Eddie knowing it wasn't going to be anything good. But what could he -

And then he remembers that he walked over in the middle of Steve flirting with another guy, and clearly implying that he was okay with guys dating other guys, and -

And the first thing that Eddie said was that he caught Steve and he was in big trouble.

Shit.

“It, uh,” Eddie starts, then stops, pausing to think about how he wants to say this. “There's a rainbow flag pinned up at the corner of the bar.”

Steve gives him a tiny smile. “I noticed,” he says softly. “It's one of the things that made me come back here.”

“Really?” Eddie asks, immediately derailed. “It was my idea to put it up. I wanted people to know the Hideout is a safe space, even if it doesn't look like it.”

“It worked,” Steve tells him. “You're a good guy, Eddie, that was a great thought.”

Eddie flushes, ducking his head for a moment before he determinedly gets this conversation back on track. “So, uh, I just wanted to make sure you knew that none of the staff here are going to hassle you no matter what way you swing. Especially not me.”

Steve looks at him for a long moment. “Especially not you?” he repeats.

Eddie swallows, then nods. “Yeah.”

Steve's quiet at first. Then, “Thanks, Eddie.”

Eddie nods again, letting the moment sit for a little bit. Then he shoots him a teasing little grin, tipping his head at the beer in front of Steve. “What you're really in trouble for is getting a drink from another bartender here.”

Steve smirks at him. “Oh, that's not mine. It's Robin's.”

“Robin?” Eddie asks.

“My best friend, the one who likes lemon drops? She came with me today, said she wanted to meet the guys who got me to stay out so late,” Steve replies.

Oh!

Eddie straightens up, looking around. “Where is she? I want to meet her.”

“She was going to the bathroom, but I think she got distracted on her way back,” Steve says drily. He nods over towards where Chrissy is talking animatedly with a girl he's never seen before. “So you might have to wait a bit on that.”

Chrissy's smiling in a way he hasn't seen her do in a long time, which immediately makes him like this Robin girl.

“Guess you're stuck with me until then,” Steve adds.

“Oh, no,” Eddie says, voice monotone. “However will I get over my disappointment.”

Steve laughs. “You can start by getting me a drink.”

Yeah, okay, Eddie guesses he can do that.

He's going to finish the night by making the best impression possible on Steve's best friend, though.

Even if his own best friend seems to have gotten there first.

—

It's D&D night the next time Steve shows up at the bar.

The other regulars are pretty used to it, by now, and seem content to let the D&D crews take over the back half of the bar, but Steve hasn't seen it before. He's not sure when he started thinking of Steve as a regular - can someone be a regular if he doesn't live here, even if he does seem to come in every time he's in town? - but that's beside the point.

D&D nights were Eddie's idea. He'd wanted to do something similar to what he did in high school, give them a safe place to be able to play - only this time, some place fun, where they'd be welcome as adults instead of laughed at for playing a "kid's game." Even the nights when he isn't playing or DMing, he has a lot of fun with coming up with campaign themed drinks.

It's stupid, but he's kind of nervous about what Steve thinks of it. It's not like anything's going to happen with Eddie's crush, but he enjoys it anyway, enjoys Steve's company. It's going to suck if Steve laughs at it.

Steve beelines for the corner of the bar where Eddie's at as soon as he sees him, which makes Eddie smile involuntarily, despite the clench in his stomach when he sees Steve staring intently at the group in the back.

"Is that Dungeons and Dragons?" Steve asks.

"You know D&D?" Eddie asks. His stomach is still clenching, but now it's in a very, very different way.

"Yeah," Steve replies, shooting him a little smile. "Some of my friends play it. We actually used to have it as an activity for the kids, but Mike and Will are at college and Erica had this huge project she needs to finish for school, so it's on hold now."

"Have you ever played?" Eddie asks.

"A couple of times," Steve replies. "I did, uh. The side characters? For the kids a few times. Do you play?"

"Yeah. I used to run a D&D club in high school, actually, and I started D&D night here."

"Dude, that's really cool," Steve says, so genuine that it makes Eddie want to hide behind his hair. "Oh, hey, I know it's kind of a lot to ask, but would you be interested in doing it for camp this week? Some of the kids coming have really missed it. We'd pay you for your time, of course."

Eddie opens his mouth, then closes it again. "You want to pay me to DM a D&D game for summer camp?"

"Yes?" Steve says, like he's not sure why Eddie's in a little bit of disbelief here. "Only it's October now, so not summer camp anymore."

Right, because that's the unbelievable part.

"You know what? Sure. Do you want a one shot, or a short campaign?" Eddie asks.

Steve's face scrunches a bit in confusion.

"How many days do you want me there?" Eddie clarifies.

"All of them?" Steve blurts out.

Eddie's eyes widen, and Steve's ears go a little pink.

"I mean, how many can you do?" Steve asks.

Eddie considers. He could use some extra cash, and he's really missed throwing himself into D&D - he actually thinks he has the perfect campaign, one he used leading up to Halloween back in high school. A few tweaks and he thinks it'll be perfect.

"How about four days, five hour sessions each? Is that too long for the kids?" Eddie asks.

Steve shakes his head. "Nah, I've seen them spend like ten hours playing before, five should be perfect. Come by the resort around noon tomorrow and I'll have the paperwork all ready for you?"

—

There's more security at the resort than Eddie remembers there being the handful of times that he's been there before.

Makes sense, he guesses, since there's more kids than adults there now. It'd probably look bad if the resort let just anyone onto the grounds and some of the kids got kidnapped or something. And if they've got celebrities coming in to get their good PR by volunteering, too, they've probably got to be at the top of their game.

Eddie must be on the approved list, though, because once he's shown his ID and proven who he is, he's given a “guest staff” badge, a map of the resort, and a list of which amenities he's allowed to use for the next week.

Nice. Steve hadn't mentioned that, but Eddie is definitely going to take advantage of it.

He's a little early to meet Steve, so he wanders around the inside of the resort instead, taking in everything.

Eventually he stumbles onto a lounge with a roaring fire and a massive plush sofa, occupied by a teenage girl and a bunch of textbooks.

“Can I help you?” she asks, for all the world like she's a busy executive behind a fancy desk and he's already wasting her time, instead of a teenager sprawled out on a couch doing her homework.

“I'm looking for Steve,” he says.

Her eyes narrow as she sits up. “Why?” There's an edge in her voice now, something a little bit protective.

That's kind of sweet, actually.

“I'm meeting him here about a temporary gig,” Eddie says. “Hi, I'm Eddie.”

Her expression shifts from wary to downright skeptical. “You're the DM who that hairbrain thinks will do a better job than me?”

Yeah, Eddie's taking back that sweet comment.

“You must be Erica,” he says.

“That's Lady Applejack to you,” she retorts with a sniff. “You better be at the top of your game, or I will sneak behind any monster you throw my way and stab them in the back with my poison-soaked kukri. And I'll smile as I watch them die a slow, agonizing death.”

Oh, fuck, Eddie likes this kid.

He raises one eyebrow at her. “I thought you had a big project that you're supposed to be working on?”

She stares right back at him, unimpressed. “You going to rat me out if I come play?”

Eddie hams it up a little, making a big show of thinking it over. Before he can tell her that obviously, he's the last one to give any kind of quibble about playing D&D instead of doing homework, the sound of heavy footsteps approaching echoes through the lounge.

“Hey, Erica?” Steve's voice calls, sounding a little strained. “Can you keep an eye out for Eddie, tell him I'm going to be a little late? I gotta - oh. You're here!”

Steve's rounded the corner, and now Eddie can see the reason for the heavier footsteps. He's giving a piggyback ride to a kid, who looks about eleven or twelve. The kid's face is screwed up in pain, and Eddie spots a bloody, skinned knee peeking through ripped jeans.

“Hey, man,” Steve greets. “Give me a minute? I've got to get this guy to the nurse.”

“I don't want to go see Nurse Henderson,” the kid sulks. “Can't you just patch it up yourself? Max is going to tell me I should have just walked it off!”

“Probably,” Steve admits. “But she'd also want you to get looked at if you're really hurt. And Nurse Henderson is the only one who's qualified to decide that, right? Besides, didn't we already talk about not doing stupid things just for a girl?”

“Especially for a girl like Max, who's way too old for me,” the kid replies, in a tone of voice that says, yes, he's heard all of this before. “Fine, I'll go to the nurse.”

“I'll keep Eddie company,” Erica volunteers.

Steve looks at her with narrowed eyes.

“I'm just making sure his campaign is up to snuff,” she informs him.

Steve relaxes, though he still cuts his gaze over to Eddie and waits for him to nod before he takes off.

Eddie tilts his head at Erica. “How would you feel about a little extra backstory? A little party betrayal, maybe?”

Her eyes light up. “I'm listening.”

By the time Steve comes back, Eddie and Erica and hunched over character sheets, and they've got a frankly amazing tie in for Lady Applejack into his slightly tweaked campaign.

“I take it things went well?” Steve asks.

Erica stuffs her character sheets into her folder. “He'll do.”

Eddie gets the feeling that's high praise, coming from her.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Lady Applejack,” he says solemnly.

She rolls her eyes, but accepts the hug that Steve gives her, and Eddie's pretty sure he hears Steve whisper thank you.

“Come on, let's go see Joyce,” Steve says. “She's the director of Hawkins Hope, she's amazing. Then we can grab lunch after.”

“Are you bribing me with fancy resort food?” Eddie asks.

Steve grins at him. “Maybe.”

Joyce is amazing, but lunch with Steve is even better. Eddie makes a big deal of moaning over how good the food is, but really, making Steve laugh is the best part.

Yeah, Eddie's in way too deep.

—

"Eddie!" Steve greets when he comes into the Hideout a few days after the final session. He sounds a little bit breathless, and Eddie immediately smiles.

It's amazing how much having a favorite regular there improves his night, on top of the fact that he thinks he and Steve are actually friends now.

"Hey, man," he greets. "The kids all get where they're supposed to be okay?"

Steve looks at him like he did something amazing, instead of just asking a question that any decent human being would ask, but Eddie's not going to protest.

"Yeah, just the staff left now. Hey, I wanted to ask - we're doing a masquerade event on Halloween as a fundraiser. I mean, the event itself is going to be kind of shitty, catering to a bunch of semi famous people, but the staff are having an after party. Do you want to come?"

Eddie swallows, trying not to get his hopes up. "Me?"

"Well, yeah, you were basically staff this week, so you should come."

"Oh." Turns out it didn't work, not getting his hopes up, and now he's fighting disappointment.

Steve must take that for reluctance, though, because he adds, "Chrissy and Jeff and Grant and Gareth are all welcome too, so you don't have to worry about not knowing anyone there? Unless you guys already had plans."

"Nah, I think we were just going to hang out and watch shitty horror movies, I'm sure they'd rather go to an after party at the resort," Eddie says.

It sounds like a much better night than anything they had planned, even if it isn't what he thought Steve might be asking.

"Good! Uh, that's good." Steve looks uncertain for a moment, like he's having a debate with himself. Whatever it is, he must come to a decision, because he leans over the counter a little. "What about you?"

…okay, maybe he's not completely out of luck here.

"Me?" Eddie asks again, but this time he keeps his gaze locked on Steve's.

"You," Steve says again. "I was really hoping you'd come, Eds."

"Yeah? What do I get if I go?"

Steve smiles at him, this soft little hopeful thing, and his eyes drop briefly down to Eddie's lips. "I got a few things in mind."

Oh fuck, this is happening.

"Well now you've got me intrigued. I guess I better make an appearance."

Steve's expression lights up. “See you at the resort at ten?”

—

There's even more security when Eddie arrives at the resort on Halloween. He isn't driving - he's pretty sure there's going to be free alcohol tonight, and he's planning on taking full advantage of it - but the cab he and the others took gets stopped three times by security guards, and each time they have to show their IDs.

“Who the hell is going to the stupid masquerade?” Eddie grumbles after they finally get dropped off at a side entrance to the resort.

“Celebrities,” Gareth says with a roll of his eyes.

There's still a small crowd of people exiting the resort through the main entrance a little bit away, and despite the grumbling and eye rolling, none of them can help craning their heads just a little, to see if there's anyone they recognize.

There isn't - looks mostly like people with press badges and cameras.

There's a little bit of a commotion, though, and that makes them pause, just for a moment.

“He owes us!” someone is shouting. “One song for the bronze tier donors, that's it? What does Alistair think he's trying to pull?”

“Oh, wow,” Chrissy says. “I mean, I knew Alistair was the celebrity endorser for the charity, but I didn't think he'd be here tonight.”

Eddie shrugs. “Steve said it was for the semi famous.”

“Alistair and Hawk are a little more than semi famous,” Jeff points out.

There's more shouting at the front entrance that distracts them, though - looks like whoever it was that was complaining is getting very firmly escorted out to the parking lot by security.

“What are you losers still doing out here?” someone asks, and Eddie turns over to see Erica scowling at him from the side entrance.

He beams at her. “Lady Applejack, destroyer of Vecna, light of my life!”

Erica rolls her eyes. “Get your butts in here,” she orders, disappearing through the side entrance.

Eddie and his friends dutifully follow her, down a few hallways and into a massive ballroom that's all decorated in orange and black lights, fake cobwebs, swooping bats, and even a fog machine. There's about thirty or so people mingling about, but fortunately, she leads them to where Steve and Robin are standing together. They're both dressed in black tuxedos, but Robin has a twinkling gold halo crowned on her head and a pair of feathery wings, and Steve has a pair of devil horns. There's a cup of something bright orange in each of their hands.

Jesus, Steve looks even more gorgeous.

“Hey!” Steve greets, lighting up. “You guys made it!”

There's a round of greetings, finished by Steve pointing out the tables laden with food - some of it is clearly fancy shit that was probably left over from the masquerade, but a decent chunk of it is freshly made, mixed in with a ton of boxes of pizza and pitchers of various drinks.

“Come on,” Steve says, circling his fingers around Eddie's wrist and giving it a tug. “I want to introduce you to my friends.”

Steve leads him around the room, weaving through the small crowd and stopping whenever he finds someone. Eddie meets Jonathon Byers, Argyle, and Nancy Wheeler - Steve's ex, apparently, which throws him for a moment when he sees that they're clearly good friends.

Eddie can't imagine being friends with any of the small handful of exes he has.

Steve shrugs when he says as much. “Nancy and I are much better as friends,” he admits. “Our break up was… all right, it was pretty bad. But it was a long time coming. We just didn't work, you know? We wanted different things.”

“Not a great point in favor of you still being friends,” Eddie points out.

Steve laughs. “Nancy's amazing at what she does. She's an investigative reporter for her real job - she just volunteers here, because it's family. It's a lot easier being her friend.”

Eddie's not completely convinced, but he'll take Steve's word for it.

Nancy seems pretty great, anyway, when both of their circles of friends end up spending most of the party together. She and Robin and Chrissy keep ducking their heads together and giggling, and Jeff and Jonathon are having some kind of emphatic discussion about something Eddie doesn't really understand, and he's pretty sure Gareth and Grant and Argyle have snuck off somewhere to smoke weed.

Eddie's a little disappointed they didn't invite him, except, well, Steve's been pretty much plastered to his side the whole time, so he can't really complain.

“You want to get out of here?” Steve asks, when Eddie has definitely had too many candy corn jello shots to be effectively considering the ramifications of that question.

He agrees anyway, wholeheartedly, and hopes he doesn't come across as way, way too eager.

Steve is beaming at him, though, and he leads him out of the room.

“Let's go for a walk?” Steve suggests, which isn't quite where Eddie's mind had been going, but he can admit it's probably a better idea than anything he might have come up with.

So they grab their coats, and Steve winds a scarf around Eddie's neck even though Eddie insists it isn't that cold out.

He's pretty sure the scarf is Steve's, though - it smells like his cologne - so he doesn't actually try to stop him.

“This is definitely a date, right?” Eddie asks as they're walking along the path to the lake, their fingers laced together.

You know, just to make absolutely certain.

“Yeah, it's definitely a date,” Steve says with a little laugh.

“It's technically our fourth date,” Eddie points out.

There's a little furrow between Steve's brow as he frowns at him. “What?”

Eddie holds up his free hand so he can tick them off his fingers. “One, you bought me drinks and dinner at the Hideout.”

“I paid for Jeff and Gareth too!” Steve protests.

“Two,” Eddie says, ignoring him. “You bought me lunch at the resort.”

“We're staff, we get free lunch!” Steve says.

“Three, you invited me to go to a Halloween party with you. And four, moonlight walk by the lake,” he finishes triumphantly.

“Those are the same date!” Steve's clearly trying to sound exasperated, but he's grinning, so Eddie's calling it a win. “And the other two are like, half dates. So if you really want to, we can call this our second date.”

“Come on, sneaking away from the Halloween party to get time alone is at least worth a half date on its own.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, two and a half dates.”

Eddie pumps his fist in victory, but he doesn't get time to crow too much about it.

Steve kisses him for the first time out by the lake, leaves rustling in the wind and the reflection of the moon hanging heavy and orange.

It's perfect.

At the end of the night, after they've been gone from the party for so long that people have had to notice - though no one says anything - Steve gives him a piece of paper with his number on it.

“You don't have to call me,” Steve tells him, like there's any chance that Eddie won't use it immediately. “But I'd like it if you did.”

Eddie steals a pen and paper from the front desk, sprawls down his own phone number and shoves it at Steve.

“Here,” he says. “So you'll know it's me when I call you as soon as I get home.”

—

Eddie expected it to be a little awkward, trying to keep up a relationship - or whatever this is, is it a relationship when they've only had two and a half dates? - via phone, but it really isn't. Steve remembers his work schedule, and he calls him every day after he gets home from work, and it -

It's almost as good as having him there. They talk about their days, about everything and nothing, and it's so fucking good it helps distract him from knowing he's not going to be able to see Steve in person again until December.

Or at least, he wasn't supposed to see him until December.

But about a week after Steve's gone, when he's hanging out with Chrissy and trying to pretend like he doesn't miss him an unreasonable amount, Eddie asks, “Who is Alistair, anyway?”

Chrissy raises her eyebrows at him. “You don't know?”

Eddie shrugs. “It hasn't come up.”

“Scoops Troop?” Chrissy asks, like that's supposed to mean something. “The pop duo?”

And yeah, all right, the name sounds vaguely familiar, but it's not anything that Eddie looks for, and he shrugs again. “I mean, sure, I've probably heard some of their songs on the radio.”

She rolls her eyes. “You're ridiculous. I have a poster of Alistair in my bedroom, it's your favorite one. You've listened to him with me, he does that cover you really like, the one you said at least he wasn't a coward who changes the gender when he covers female songs.”

Shit, okay, yeah, now Eddie knows who she's talking about. He remembers that poster - a blown up shot of the pop star wearing a pair of tight jeans with the button popped, bare chested, head tilted back so all you could see was the line of his neck and the underside of his chin. He remembers sitting with Chrissy a year or so after they graduated high school, listening to one of his albums, hearing the guy sing about how it feels to watch the man he loves kiss some other girl, remembers how the song had stuck with him.

Huh. Handsome, good singer, funds charities - maybe he should have given more of his songs a chance.

“Oh,” Eddie says.

Chrissy laughs softly. “Yeah, oh. Should I tell Steve to watch out for your crush?”

Eddie bumps his shoulders into hers. “Steve is prettier,” he says confidently. “And sweeter, and funnier, and - everything-er.”

He does know to cut himself off before he starts going into too much detail, though, and instead he flops down on his bed.

“What's his deal, then? You have a poster, you probably know some things.”

Chrissy shrugs, flopping down next to him. “He's pretty private. Teenage pop star, made it big pretty quickly, had a huge, blow up falling out with his manager and record label. Went quiet for a while, made a massive comeback with a new manager and label as part of a duo with Hawk.”

Eddie hums softly. Nothing all that interesting - or nothing out of the ordinary from things he's read about in the music industry before.

“What was the blow up about?” he asks, curious. He could go look it up himself, of course, but it's easier to ask Chrissy.

“Something about his manager and label mismanaging his earnings. There was some kind of scandal back then about exploitation of child stars, it's why you don't see Harrington Studios or Brenner Talent Acquisition around much anymore.”

Jesus.

“Wait,” Eddie says. “Harrington Studios? Like Steve Harrington?”

Chrissy frowns. “Maybe?”

“Shit, Steve did say his dad was an asshole who wouldn't want to be anywhere near him,” Eddie says. “I wonder if that's why Steve cut ties.”

“You could call him and ask him,” Chrissy says mildly. “Didn't he say he and Robin were just going to be hanging around at home the next few days?”

Eddie narrows his eyes at her. “You just want to talk to Robin,” he protests, even though he's already picking up the phone.

Steve and Robin are home, and Steve sounds so happy to hear from him that Eddie almost immediately forgets everything else.

“I miss you,” Eddie says before he thinks better of it, before he wonders if maybe that's too much.

“I miss you too,” Steve says immediately, sounding a little bit relieved - like maybe he was worried it was too much, too. “I wish I could see you.”

“Hawkins isn't too far from here,” Eddie points out. “And I've got a guest room.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, his voice a little soft, a little hopeful.

“Yeah. Come stay the night, we'll get pizza and watch bad movies.”

Steve hums a little like he's considering it, but it's playful, and Eddie's pretty sure he's going to say yes. “Are we counting this as a whole date, or is this another half date?”

Eddie breaks out into a grin. “Half date,” he decides. “That'll bring us up to three, and tomorrow we can make four.”

“Deal,” Steve agrees. “See you soon.”

Steve kisses him the second he and Robin arrive, crowding him in against the wall in the narrow hallway like it's been so much longer than a week since they last saw each other.

“Hi,” Steve murmurs when they break for air.

“Hi,” Eddie replies breathlessly, smiling so wide it hurts.

They end up squished together on the couch, Steve and Robin in the middle with Eddie and Chrissy on either side of them. After the pizza's gone, and they're mid way through their second movie - Eddie glances over, sees Robin's feet tucked under Steve's thigh, Steve's hand curled loosely around her ankle, Chrissy's head pillowed on Robin's shoulder.

Which sounds like a fantastic idea, actually, and he squishes down so he can lean into Steve's chest, Steve's arm wrapped around his shoulders.

Later, after the girls have disappeared into the guest room and Steve and Eddie are getting ready for bed, Steve seems… nervous, almost, as they climb under the covers.

“Everything okay?” Eddie asks.

“There's things you don't know about me,” Steve admits quietly. “Important things.”

Things like his dad owning a record label and working with a manager who exploits children, Eddie'd guess. Not a great thing for a guy who now works so closely with kids.

But Eddie trusts him.

“Hey,” he says softly. “It's okay. I mean, you don't know everything about me either, right? We're only at date three. It's okay if you want to take this slow, to get to know each other before we jump into the messy stuff.”

Steve looks like he's thinking about that. “That's okay?”

“Yeah, of course. If you want to feel each other out, keep this low commitment, even see other people, that's fine.”

It's not really fine, but now Eddie's said it, so he can't take it back.

Steve frowns at him. “I don't want to keep this low commitment,” he protests. “Eds - I'm in this. I don't want to date anyone else.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, a little shaky.

Steve's expression shutters a little. “Did you want to?”

“No!” Eddie replies, a little too quickly. “No, of course not. I just didn't want to pressure you. I, uh, I'm in this too.”

“Good.” Steve tips his head in to kiss him softly. “But - maybe slow is good? I haven't really had a serious relationship since Nancy and I broke up.”

“It's been a while for me, too,” Eddie admits. “…is it bad that it kind of makes me feel better? That we're both figuring this out together?”

Steve snorts. “Nah. Not bad. I kind of like the idea of figuring things out with you.”

—

“Hey, Munson!” April shouts from the office, when he's elbow deep in sudsy water doing the dishes. “You got a phone call!”

“Who is it?” Eddie yells back. He doesn't want to lose his groove if it's just a crank call, or one of his friends with something far from urgent.

“Some guy named Steve! Want me to tell him to get lost?” she asks.

“No!” Eddie yelps immediately. Then, in what he hopes is a calmer voice, “No, I'll come get it.”

He dries off his hands, passes April on the way to the office and has to put up with her smirking at him, but he pointedly ignores her.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie greets, already feeling himself smiling.

“Hey,” Steve says back. “Am I interrupting a busy shift?”

He sounds - just a little bit off. Almost like his normal self, but more like he's forcing himself to sound normal.

Eddie frowns. “Even if you were, it'd be a welcome interruption. What's up?”

“It's nothing really important,” Steve says. “I just - wanted to hear your voice, I guess.”

Oh.

Eddie lets himself feel soft and gushy over that for a moment before he leans out to shout, “April, I'm taking my lunch!” and closes the door to the office.

“Eds, you don't have to do that,” Steve protests. “I just wan-”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie cuts him off gently. “I can tell something's wrong. Taking my lunch is nothing - I'd drive to Hawkins right now to see you if you wanted.”

Eddie can Steve breathe out, a slow, ragged exhale.

“What happened?” Eddie asks.

“My dad happened,” Steve mutters.

Shit.

“Well, if anyone gets how hard it can throw you off when your shitty dad pops back up in your life, it's me,” Eddie says. “You want to talk about it?”

Steve's quiet for a moment. “I don't know why I let him still get to me,” he says after a while. “He didn't even talk directly to me. He hasn't tried to reach out since I cut him off, but he still knows exactly what to say to get under my skin, and he knows where to do it so it'll get right back to me. God, it's so stupid. I don't even care about his opinion, but…”

“But he's your dad,” Eddie finishes for him when he trails off. “Even if he's terrible, even if you don't want to be anything like him, even if you don't really want his good opinion, it's always going to matter a little.”

There's another exhale, though this one's tinged with something like relief. “Yeah. Exactly.”

“What'd he say?” Eddie asks.

Steve snorts. “Just the usual shit. I'm not living up to my potential, I'm wasting my time on publicity stunts, I've lost sight of what's really important.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mutters. “Your dad really is an asshole.”

“Grade A,” Steve confirms.

“You sure you don't want me to drive down there?” Eddie offers.

“Nah,” Steve says, though Eddie can hear a smile in his voice. “I'm with Robin. She just went to pick up dinner, she should be back soon. Just, uh. Like I said, I wanted to hear your voice. It always makes me feel better.”

“You can't say stuff like that to me when you're not in kissing range,” Eddie teases. Mostly to cover up the way it makes his heart beat a little too fast.

“Sorry,” Steve replies, not sounding apologetic at all.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie says. “I'll still stay on the phone with you until Robin gets back. What do you want me to talk about?”

Steve hesitates for a moment before asking, “Is it too much to ask about what happened the last time your dad popped up?”

Part of Eddie wants to say that nothing Steve could ask him for would be too much, but he does the responsible thing and actually thinks about it before he answers.

“I was seventeen,” he says, once he's decided that yeah, he's okay with Steve knowing this. “I'd been living with my Uncle Wayne for almost five years. He blows back into town, claims he has something of my mom's that she'd always wanted me to get, before she got sick.”

“What was it?” Steve asks.

Eddie snorts. “Nothing. I already had everything of hers that she left behind. He didn't realize I'd already emptied out the old house after he left the last time. But he said he missed me, said he needed me. That he really wanted it to be the two of us this time, the way we always talked about when I was younger and he was teaching me things.”

Steve makes a little encouraging noise.

“Shitty things,” Eddie clarifies. “Other dads taught their kids how to fish or play ball, but mine? He taught me how to hotwire cars. Even at seventeen, he had me convinced. I wanted to believe him so bad, I went along with his idea. Ended up with him skipping town and me in a jail cell taking the fall. My uncle had to come bail me out.”

“I'm sorry, Eddie,” Steve says quietly.

Eddie shrugs, even though Steve can't see him. “It's not your fault.”

“That's not why I'm sorry,” Steve retorts, in a tone that Eddie knows means he's rolling his eyes. “I'm sorry that he couldn't see how amazing you are. You deserve better.”

Eddie feels his cheeks heat up. “So do you,” he replies. “Fuck our dads, all right?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees empathetically. “Fuck ‘em. Who needs them when we have people who actually give a shit about us?”

Eddie wishes they were together, so he could take Steve's hand or tug him in for a hug or something, to make it clear that Eddie is one of those people who gives a shit about Steve.

“Yeah,” he settles for saying. “You can call me anytime, you know that, right?”

“I do now,” Steve says softly. “Thanks, Eds.”

Fuck.

“Any time,” Eddie managed to get out.

“You too, okay? Any time. Even if I don't answer right away, I'll always call you back.”

—

Eddie's pulling his boxes of Christmas decorations out of the storage space off of his little balcony when he notices one of the boxes is damaged.

He's not sure what happened. Water leaking, maybe, or maybe just the box giving out, but it's sagging in on itself, and when Eddie opens it he - he sees the remains of some of his oldest Christmas decorations. The ones that belonged to his mom.

Eddie stares at them for a long time, fighting back tears, and then goes inside to call his boyfriend.

“Hey, Stevie,” he says when he gets his answering machine. He doesn't even bother trying to sound like he isn't bummed. “It's not urgent, just - some of the Christmass stuff I had from my mom got wrecked. Guess I just wanted to hear your voice. Give me a call when you get this, yeah?”

There's an awkward pause that he almost fills with love you, before he hangs up real quick so he doesn't end up going there on a fucking voicemail of all things.

He doesn't really know how long it's going to be before Steve's able to call him back, and it's stupid to just wait around waiting, but… he can't actually bring himself to do the only thing he had planned today and get the Christmas decorations up.

Eddie's still dithering around hours later when the doorbell rings, and he considers ignoring it and pretending he isn't home. He's not in the mood to be any kind of good company, after all.

But then he hears Steve's voice calling his name through the door, and he's on his feet and opening it up before he knows it.

“You're here,” Eddie says, a little gobsmacked.

Steve shifts his weight, looking a little hesitant. “Is that okay? I mean, I know you said you wouldn't mind driving down to Hawkins for me if -”

Steve cuts off, because Eddie's dragged him inside the apartment and pressed him against the back of the door, doing his level best to kiss him senseless.

“It's not too much?” Steve manages to ask in between kisses.

“It's so far from too much,” Eddie returns.

Eddie's not really sure he knows what to do with someone who drove all the way here just for him, just because he was sad, but Jesus, he's not going to complain about it now.

They're both a little disheveled by the time they manage to get away from the door, and Steve gives him a tentative little smile.

“I brought you this,” Steve says, holding something out to him.

Eddie takes it, and it's - a copy of Loretta Lynn's Country Christmas. A signed copy. A signed copy specifically addressed to Eddie, wishing him a merry Christmas and a wonderful holiday season.

He looks back up, gaping at Steve a little. “Steve?”

“It was supposed to be your Christmas present,” Steve says. “But I thought - maybe you could use it now.”

Jesus Christ, Eddie's pretty sure he's really close to crying. He squeezes his eyes shut, taking a ragged breath.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

He sets the album down, then practically launches himself at Steve, folding him into his arms and hugging him tight. Steve lets himself be held, sinking into the embrace and hugging him back just as strong.

Eventually, when Eddie's reasonably certain he's not in danger of crying - or blurting out a love confession - Eddie pulls back.

“How long are you here for?” he asks.

Steve shrugs. “I don't have any where to be now. I finished work up early, so I've got a few days before we have to get started on winter camp and the Hawkins Hope Christmas gala.”

“Stay here?” Eddie asks, even though he's a little afraid he's pushing it. The guy drove here for him after one upset voicemail, he's pretty sure he's not going to be turned off by the suggestion of staying over a few days.

“Shit, yeah, I'd love to. You want me to help decorate?” Steve offers.

Eddie swallows past the lump in his throat and nods. “Yeah, that'd be great.”

He puts on Loretta Lynn, and before he knows it he's laughing along with Steve as they bicker about where to put some of the decorations and immediately agree on others.

It's a much better day than Eddie could have ever imagined.

—

“How'd you guys even find this place?”

It's mid December, and the Hawkins Hope crew officially have the resort for the rest of the year.

Which means Eddie's been hanging out there pretty much all of his days off, to the point where the security staff don't even bother to check his ID anymore. They just let him waltz right into the resort to meet Steve at one of the lounges.

Or in the room Steve's staying in, which is where they're at now.

“We rented it out for a couple of weeks back in the spring. Or I guess, technically Scoops Troop did, but when Joyce saw it we figured it would be the perfect place.”

“That was you guys?” Eddie asks. “I figured it was some doucebag pop singer.”

“Well, I guess you'd be kind of right, depending on how you feel about Scoops Troop.” Steve says it too casually, like he's trying to pretend that he doesn't care about Eddie's response - but he clearly cares about Eddie's response.

Eddie hums softly. “How do you feel about Scoops Troop?”

“Hawk is fantastic,” Steve replies immediately. “She's so, so talented, she could do just about anything, you know? She's funny, and so damn smart, she's just amazing.”

Briefly, Eddie wonders if he should be jealous, but nah. Steve'd sounded similar to the way he does when he talks about Robin, and Eddie knows there's nothing going on there.

“What about Alistair?” Eddie asks.

Steve gives a one shouldered shrug. “I don't think my opinion really matters all that much.”

“Of course it matters, Stevie, your opinion always matters,” Eddie says.

Steve smiles at him, soft and fond. “Thank you.”

Eddie waits, but apparently Steve is going to play hard to get on the subject of Alistair. “Do you like him?”

Steve shrugs again. “Yeah, sure.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows, squirming a little so he's draped across Steve's lap, staring up at him expectantly.

Steve huffs out a little laugh, carding his fingers through Eddie's hair.

“It was touch and go there for a little bit,” Steve admits. “There was some pretty dicklike behavior going on for a while.”

Eddie gives a dramatic gasp. “A teenage idol? Being a dick? You don't say.”

There's another little laugh, which Eddie's going to count as a win.

“And now?” Eddie asks. “The charity thing, is that all a cover?”

“Nah,” Steve says. “That's genuine. You go through some shit, get a couple of good thumps on the head, it can change your perspective on a lot of things. Makes you realize what's important, and what's just bullshit, you know?”

It sounds like Steve's speaking from experience, and Eddie makes a little encouraging noise.

“My dad did some pretty shitty things to some of my friends,” he says quietly. “And to me. There was a time when I was probably too much like him. I mean, I wasn't ever that bad, but - I put popularity and shit above the things that really mattered.”

“It's hard to imagine you like that,” Eddie says.

Steve frowns a little. “Really?”

“Well, okay, you're kind of a preppy jock, and back in high school I would have thought you were a huge asshole. But I mean, I was kind of a dick back then, too. I probably would have judged you without even knowing you. And now, knowing you? Shit, you're amazing, Steve.”

Steve swallows, leaning down to kiss him.

“I kind of like that you don't know a lot about Alistair,” Steve admits quietly.

“Really?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “Most of the people that I work with, aside from the core staff? They're in this because it's a good look for them, or because of their connections with Scoops Troop. You're one of the few who helped out just because of the kids.”

“You guys did pay me,” Eddie points out.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, but you said yes before you even knew how much. It wasn't because of some celebrity, it was just because you're a good guy.”

Something squirms around in Eddie's gut, in a way that he can't decide is good or not. Don't get him wrong, Steve telling him he's a good guy's got his heart beating a little quicker, but he also feels like Steve's got the wrong impression of him.

“I mean, I also did it because you asked me to,” he says, before Steve goes thinking it was entirely selfless. “And you're the prettiest guy I've ever seen.”

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “You agreed to help out just to get paid and to get in my pants?”

“Well, not just that. It worked though, didn't it?”

There's another laugh, and Steve jostles him with his knee a little. “Seriously, though. There's not a lot of people in my life that aren't here because of Alistair.”

It's Eddie's turn to swallow. “Well, now you've got me.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, still far too serious. His eyes are so intense as he looks down at Eddie, like he's seeing straight through him - like he's on the verge of saying something big, something maybe too big.

“So what are you going to do with me, then?” Eddie asks, light and teasing, wiggling his eyebrows.

It works to break the moment, though Steve's still looking at him almost too closely.

“Keep you,” Steve says. “If you'll let me.”

Jesus Christ.

“Yeah,” Eddie replies. “Yeah, I'll let you.”

—

The sound of a piano playing draws him down one of the resort hallways, smiling softly as he recognizes it as a Billy Joel song.

“La, la-la, di-di-da,” echoes along with the notes of the piano. “La-la di-di-da da-dum.”

He follows the sound, until he reaches another one of the resort's many little lounging areas. This one has the customary fireplace, wide open windows with gorgeous scenery, and cozy seating. It also has a baby grand piano, and Eddie's a little shocked to see Steve sitting at it, eyes closed as he plays.

“Sing us a song, you're the piano man,” Steve croons. His voice is a little raspy, a little rough, low and soft and so fucking gorgeous that it makes Eddie catch his breath. “Sing us a song tonight. Well, we're all in the mood for a melody.”

“And you've got us feeling all right,” Eddie chimes in.

Steve's eyes fly open, and he looks a little panicked for a moment before his gaze catches on Eddie. The tension in his body relaxes a little, though there's something about him that seems a bit wary.

It makes Eddie feel like maybe he shouldn't make a big deal about this, shouldn't exclaim that he didn't know Steve could play or tell him that he should sing more often.

“Practicing for a music activity with the kids?” Eddie asks.

Steve's expression lights up with a smile, and Eddie immediately feels like he's said the right thing.

Which isn't all that common of an occurrence, honestly. Makes it feel pretty damn good that he just about always gets it right with Steve.

“Doing a piano lesson later,” Steve says.

“And you're going to teach them Billy Joel?” he asks.

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “Christmas carols, actually. I was just trying to warm up a little.”

“Don't mind me,” Eddie says, plopping down at the bench next to him and leaning against him. “Warm up away. Hey, you play one I know, and I'll even sing.”

Steve's expression goes contemplative for a moment. “How about we sing together?”

“You don't have to,” Eddie says a little guiltily, kind of worried that he'd made him feel pressured.

Steve shakes his head. “I want to. What's your favorite Christmas song?”

“Carol of the Bells,” Eddie says immediately.

Steve barks out a little laugh.

“What?” Eddie demands, bumping his shoulder. “It's a good one!”

“I know,” Steve says. “It's my favorite, too. It's just not a great dueting song.”

“Nah, come on, give me some notes. We got this,” Eddie insists.

Steve rolls his eyes, but his fingers dance over the keys as he starts playing.

“Hark how the bells, sweet silver bells, all seem to say, throw cares away.” Eddie's not exactly singing so much as he's whispering the words into Steve's ear, lips brushing up right against his skin.

It makes Steve's breath catch. He tips his head to face Eddie, playing without looking.

“Christmas is here, bringing good cheer, to young and old, meek and the bold,” Steve whisper sings back. Even like this, he sounds good - Eddie can tell he must have gotten some training, but with who Steve's dad is, he's not surprised.

Eddie kind of figures that's why any musical ability Steve has would be a sore subject, so he doesn't ask about it. “Ding dong ding dong, that is their song, with joyful ring, all caroling.”

“One seems to hear, words of good cheer,” Steve sings, lips so close to Eddie's that they're practically breathing the same air. “From everywhere, filling the air.”

Steve joins him in singing, “Oh how they pound, raising the sound,” their voices melding together in a way that Eddie's not sure is technically good, but fuck it feels downright magical.

They make it through a few more verses like that, but Steve kisses him before they finish out the song, and they're too distracted to get back to it.

Really, it's not like Eddie's going to complain.

Steve's amazing with the kids, he's clearly not a terrible shower singer, and Eddie's not holding out much hope for the wet towels on the floor at this point.

Eddie just doesn't know how he got so lucky.

—

When Eddie opens the door, Chrissy immediately smacks him with a magazine, but doesn't say anything until she and Jeff have pushed their way into his apartment and shut the door behind them.

Eddie blinks at them, bewildered.

“When were you going to tell us?” she asks in a low, excited whisper.

“Tell you what?” he asks.

“He probably swore you to secrecy, right?” Jeff asks.

“Can we talk about it now that we know?” Chrissy says. “Oh, wait, you probably had to sign an NDA or something, right?”

Jeff makes a face. “Are we going to have to sign an NDA?”

“An NDA about what?” Eddie demands.

Chrissy thrusts the magazine at him, shaking it until he takes it.

Oh.

That's Steve and Robin on the cover, wearing matching Christmas sweaters, with glitter on their eyelids and cheeks and snowflakes in their hair.

He can feel his expression go a little dopey and fond, but hey, how is he supposed to help it?

Eddie assumes it's some kind of article about the Christmas gala Hawkins Hope is throwing, but the caption of the picture catches his eye as he's looking up.

Christmastime With Scoops Troop! Alistair and Hawk spill about their holiday traditions.

It's not until Eddie hears Chrissy saying, “Oh” and Jeff going, “Oh shit, you didn't know,” that Eddie realizes he's gaping.

Eddie slams his jaw shut. “No,” he says tightly, feeling a sharp stab of hurt covered up immediately by a blinding rush of anger. “No, I didn't know that my boyfriend is famous. Apparently that's something that he didn't feel was important to tell me.”

He throws the magazine down onto the couch, stalking around the living room. “Apparently Alistair likes to play games with poor, hick bartenders, make them think they've found something amazing, while Mr. Famous Douchebag is probably off laughing with his other celebrity friends about what an idiot I am.”

“Eddie,” Chrissy says, sounding a little shocked. “I don't know if that's fair.”

“Fair?” Eddie demands. “Fair would have been leaving me the hell out of however he gets his rocks off. It wasn't coming into the Hideout again and again, hanging out with us and getting to know us, all the time keeping something like this!”

“Hey,” Jeff cuts in. “Come on, man, Steve didn't owe us anything then. He was just a guy coming into a bar to get some drinks, getting along with the staff there.”

Eddie snarls, because he wants to be as furious as possible, and he isn't thrilled that Jeff's making a logical point. “Fine,” he concedes. “But he owed me something. He should have told me what I was getting into before I got too deep. I don't - what, was his plan to just keep quiet about this forever and hope I wouldn't find out? How stupid does he think I am?”

Chrissy and Jeff are silent at that, but that just deflates Eddie more than if they had tried to argue with him.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asks.

“Do you want to break up with him?” Chrissy asks.

Eddie startles. “No!” Then he pauses, considering. “I don't know.”

“You don't know?” Jeff prompts.

“What if all of this was a game? What if he never liked me at all, and he was just a celebrity asshole having some fun?”

“What if it wasn't?” Chrissy counters gently. “What if he's just a guy who found someone he really liked and was too scared to tell him about this?”

Eddie drops down into the couch, burying his head in his hands. “I have to talk to him, don't I?”

—

Eddie goes to talk to him.

He asks the resort staff to let Steve know that he's here, waits around in the front entrance until one of the staff tells him they got the go ahead to let Eddie wait in Steve's room.

Eddie's sitting on the bed when Steve there.

“Eddie? Are you okay, they told me you-” Steve cuts off, and Eddie's going to assume that he saw the magazine in Eddie's hands.

He can't bring himself to look up to see him, to check for sure.

“Was any of it real?” he asks. His voice comes out rough, though he manages not to sound like he's on the verge of tears.

“God, Eds, of course it's real, how can-”

“Don't,” Eddie cuts him off, harsh and sharp.

Steve makes a little wounded sound before he falls silent, and this time Eddie can't help but look up at him.

Steve looks - he looks like a fucking wreck. His eyes are wet and sad, and he looks like everything that he'd been trying to balance on his shoulders has come crashing down. Eddie wishes he could say with confidence that the guy he knows, the guy he's fallen in love with, is the same guy he's seeing now, is who Steve really is.

Still, Eddie isn't here to purposefully hurt him. Chrissy and Jeff had talked sense into him - he just wants answers.

“I don't think it's fair for you to act like I'm out of line for doubting that,” Eddie says.

Steve crumples like a wet paper bag.

“You're right,” he says, which honestly - Eddie wasn't expecting. “It's not fair, I'm sorry. Of course you'd think that if I was hiding this, what else wasn't I telling the truth about?”

Eddie rolls up the magazine to hide how his hands want to shake, crinkling it with the force of his grip. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“Not at first,” Steve admits, lips twisted in a humorless little smile. “This summer, I just - it was nice, spending time with people who had no idea who I was. I thought that would be it, but then the more time I spent with you, the more I fell for you, and by the time I realized I didn't want to let you go, I was afraid. Afraid of your reaction, afraid of what it would mean for us. There's so many people that think they know me as Alistair, and so few that know the real me. I knew, just - even if you didn't hate me, even if you still wanted to be with me, things were going to change. I wouldn't just be Steve anymore.”

“But… you are Alistair. I'm not getting the real you unless I can have both.”

Steve swallows. “Do you want both?”

Eddie blinks at him, a little thrown. “What kind of question is that?”

“Most people want to date Alistair, the pop singer. I haven't had anyone since Nancy who knew me as Steve first, and I - I don't know. I kind of thought it would work the other way, too,” Steve admits. “That you wouldn't want any part of Alistair.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow at him. “Dude, you keep talking about Steve and Alistair like they're different people. They're both still you, right? I mean, sure, you've got to put on a different front when you're out there with the press and the celebrities, but we all do that a little. You think I act the same way with most customers that I do with you?”

“I - no. Okay, well, I hope not,” Steve adds, just a little bit teasing.

“Definitely not,” Eddie says, giving him the tiniest smile. “So if you're really in this, I want you to be in it. I don't want you to have to hide something so huge from me. I think I deserve the chance to know all of you.”

“Okay,” Steve says softly. “You're right. You're - yeah. If you still want this, if I didn't fuck everything up, then I promise no more secrets.”

Eddie lets out a slow, ragged exhale. Then, “It was real, right?”

“Every bit of it,” Steve says. He inches closer, then when Eddie doesn't stop him, he comes to sit next to him.

“Everything I've told you is true,” Steve says solemnly. “It's okay if you can't believe that yet. I promise I'll work really hard to show you.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Maybe I'm stupid, but I do believe you. There's a lot of things that make sense now.”

Thinking back on it - he doesn't think Steve ever actually directly lied to him, not once. Just by omission.

“Fuck, your dad is even worse than I thought,” Eddie swears. “I assumed you guys had a falling out because he fucked over your friends, but he fucked over you.”

“And my friends,” Steve says. “Jane, Hopper's adopted daughter - she got it the worst. I mean, it was mostly our manager, Brenner, who was the real piece of work, but it's not like my dad gave a shit.”

“Fuck him even more,” Eddie mutters. “Am I allowed to ask what happened? Will I have to sign an NDA or something?”

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “No NDAs, and yeah, you can ask. Hopper and Joyce were the ones that uncovered a lot of it, at first, and then Nancy and Jonathan did this massive push and got all the details to leak to the press. They're in investigative journalism half because of how good of a job they did. Robs and I both almost quit music after, but Joyce and Hop knew this guy who was a really good manager, and Murray knew Dimitri who had a small record label, and it just… fell together.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “Hopper's your head of security, isn't he?”

Steve grins. “And the security for Hawkins Hope, but yeah, mostly me and Robin. Jonathan also does most of our pictures for album covers and stuff, and Argyle actually handles our PR.”

Eddie hums. “Wait, why didn't I have to sign an NDA? What if I was secretly a reporter just pretending to be a bartender?”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “But you weren't.”

“What if I was?” Eddie insists. “Or, okay, what if it didn't work out and I was the kind of guy who liked petty revenge? What if some shady paparazzi comes up to me and promises a huge pay day if I spill all of the secrets I learned?”

“You wouldn't,” Steve says confidently.

Which, okay, yes, Eddie very much appreciates Steve's trust in him and it kind of makes him feel a little gooey inside, but Eddie's on a roll and he has a point to make.

“I could!” Eddie protests. “What if I was just a huge asshole? What do Hopper and Argyle think of you dating someone without an NDA?”

“I don't think I've ever had anyone mad at me that I didn't ask them to sign an NDA,” Steve says thoughtfully.

“Well clearly you've been dating douchebags,” Eddie grumbles. “You have to look out for yourself more, okay, what if I was just the worst person in the world and - what?”

Steve's smiling at him way too fondly. “I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you,” he says softly.

Eddie's breath catches. “Is that, uh. Is that a confession, or the reason you didn't have me sign an NDA?”

“Both?” Steve admits. “Look, I know it's kind of early, so I'm not expecting -”

“No, fuck that, I'm definitely in love with you,” Eddie cuts in. “I've wanted to say it since the time you called me at work.”

“Oh,” Steve breathes out. “Still?”

“Still.” Eddie makes a little face at himself. “I do trust you, Steve. It might take me a while to get used to everything, but I don't think there's anything I'm going to learn that will change that.”

Steve kisses him, tangling his fingers in Eddie's hair.

“Come to the Christmas gala with me?” he asks.

“Won't the press and stuff be there?” Eddie says.

“Yeah. It's okay if you're not ready for that, but I - I think I'd like to tell people that I have a boyfriend. To introduce you whenever you are ready.”

Eddie considers that. He's honestly not sure he is ready, but - shit, is he ever going to feel ready? “Yeah,” he says. “Jesus, yeah, let's do it.”

“Yeah?” Steve says, his face lighting up.

“Yeah,” Eddie says again. “Just, uh, let me call my uncle and tell him first. Unless - do you want to come with me, tell him together?”

Steve kisses him again. “I'd really like that. We're still in this, still figuring this all out together, right?”

Eddie follows after him for another kiss. “Together,” he agrees.

Yeah, Eddie can handle that. As long as they're together.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #stranger things #steddie fic #steddie holiday exchange #pop singer steve harrington #bartender eddie munson

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nochukoo97 · 11 months

Text

R u Mine?

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: It hurts so bad seeing your best friend, who you have been madly in love with, with another girl. You secretly wish he would have never met his current girlfriend. It pained you to watch them interact right in front of your eyes. But what if things took a turn? What if you actually had a chance with him?

Word count: 3k+

Warnings: best friends to lovers, but theres a lot of angst at the start 🥲, JK drives a motorcycle hehehehehhe, a little bit of suggestive themes but nth huge 😊

a/n: hii i finally had the motivation to write this fic!! i wish i had this jungkook in my life 🥲 also, don’t be a silent reader and do comment and give feedback on this fic please :) i think i might write some drabbles and a bit more elaboration on this couple if the fic does well, then i’ll make it a series bc i LOVE. motorcycle jk. HAHHA

To say you hated Jungkook’s girlfriend was an understatement.

When Jungkook had introduced Eunmi to you, your heart shattered into a million pieces, yet you had to force a smile onto your face and act as if you were happy for your best friend.

It was hard, you didn’t know if you were being a shit best friend to Jungkook for secretly wishing that the love of his life, quoted by him, would secretly disappear, but at the same time it was so fucking hard to push down those feelings you’ve had for him for years.

There were so many instances, the little actions Jungkook did specially for you, that convinced you that you had a chance with him. You were always too scared to approach him and confess, but now you’re happy you did not. You would rather not get rejected by Jungkook and risk ruining your relationship with him.

Yet it was so painful to watch Jungkook smile lovingly at his girlfriend as she clung to his tattooed arm. It was so painful to watch Jungkook kiss her and giggle with her. It was so painful to watch Jungkook do the things you had envisioned him doing with you once you had gained the courage to confess to him.

Everytime Jungkook had brought Eunmi to a gathering, you couldn’t help but watch in jealousy, in envy of her. You couldn’t bring yourself to push away your feelings for him, it was too much. Eunmi was never a bad person, she was sweet and charming, but sometimes you wished she wasn’t. Sometimes you secretly wished your best friend had not fallen for her, but for you instead.

You hate being the “girl best friend”. In that vision, you never stood a chance with Jungkook. In that vision, he may cut you off for the sake of the love of his life. Yet you feel so fucking guilty for seeming so selfish, wanting the boy to yourself, not truly supporting his relationship, but more of just doing it for the sake of his happiness.

You sigh as you chug down another shot of Soju, watching Jungkook giggle with Eunmi at the couch opposite you. Jimin had organized another party in his big house for the third time this week, the third time this week you watched your best friend and his girlfriend flirt and break your heart further.

“What’s with the glum look?” Jimin slots himself next to you on the couch, attempting to look where you had been staring. “Nothing, just a little tired.” You brush him off again, for the millionth time, and even though you knew he clearly knew you were lying to him by saying you were okay, you were too embarrassed to tell anyone about your selfish desires.

Jimin only sighs as you reject his attempt to console you again, yet he already has a slight idea of what’s bothering you.

———————————————————————————

It’s been two weeks since Jimin’s party and you have been cooping yourself up at home, not leaving the house and looking like a wreck. Jimin had tried to ask you to meet him to go shopping, but you brushed him off again, giving a lame excuse of how you're busy with work.

You feel bad for brushing everyone off, especially after your other friends gave you a dejected look as you rejected their offer to hang out for the tenth time. Yet you’ve allowed yourself to fall into this depressive slump, as if your whole world is miserable right now. Maybe it actually is.

It's also been two weeks since you last talked to your best friend. You weren’t even sure if you could consider Jungkook as your best friend anymore, considering you went from texting everyday and calling each other to now barely communicating ever since he and Eunmi started dating. At least he is happy, you try to convince yourself.

You sigh and lean back on your couch, but your phone buzzes and the screen lights up, showing the caller ID. It’s Jimin. You sigh, assuming that he was going to try to get you out of the house again.

“Hello?” you mumble, getting ready to reject the poor boy’s offer again.

“___ I need your help desperately. I don’t know what else to do,” Jimin literally pleads with you over the phone.

You sit up, worry casted over your face wondering what on earth happened to him.

“What happened to you? Are you okay?” You start to ramble, worried for your good friend and cursing at yourself in your mind for rejecting his offers so many times.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. This isn’t about me. It’s about Jungkook.” Jimin tells you.

“Oh,” That’s all that comes out of your mouth

Your heart wrenches as Jungkook and Eunmi clouds your mind again, but not before Jimin starts talking, catching you out of your daze.

“Anyways, he’s really wrecked, he won’t accept help from any of us and I think you’re the only hope left. Before you ask what happened, I’ll let Jungkook explain to you, it’s not my place to say this.” Jimin says, ending the phone call after he gets confirmation that you would be going over to Jungkook’s.

You don’t know what to feel right now. Confused is the best that can explain your feelings at the moment, having no clue why Jungkook was wrecked and why can’t his pretty little girlfriend can’t come to his rescue.

Okay, maybe you’re being a little too mean.

——————————————————————————————

You quickly stop by the nearby convenience store near Jungkook’s apartment, you naturally head towards the ice cream freezer, grabbing one chocolate and one strawberry ice cream from it.

Before you can stop it, the memories of you and Jungkook sitting on the sidewalk and eating these exact same ice creams from the exact same convenience store breaks your heart again. You would do anything to relive that moment without knowing what the future held.

You quickly shake your head, not wanting to delve deeper on those memories when Jungkook was in trouble, or you assumed, having zero knowledge on what was happening.

You knock on Jungkook’s apartment door when you get out of the lift, and a voice grumbles from inside, “Leave me the fuck alone Tae, I told you I’m fine.” You don’t recognise the hoarse and rough voice at first, but you furrow your eyebrows in worry as to why Jungkook was in such a state.

“It’s me, not Tae,” You softly speak through the door. “I can go if you want to be left alone, but just wanted to check in on you,” You end your sentence, prepared to go back down the lift and back home. You’re pretty sure Eunmi can come over and console her boyfriend instead of you.

You then feel bad for those bitter thoughts when you see the door open.

There stood Jungkook, dark circles under his eyes, hair in a mess, and the apartment behind him messy.

“___?” His voice questions, even though it sounds hoarse, he says it so softly that your eyes soften at his appearance.

The boy makes way for you into his apartment, rambling on about how embarrassingly messy it was, apologising to you.

“Jungkook, the state of your apartment is the last thing I’m worried about right now.” You start off as you sit down on the couch next to him, his body limp as he stares at the ceiling, eyes blank.

“What happened?” You question after a moment of silence, reaching into the plastic bag to fish out the chocolate ice cream you know he loves. Or you hoped he still did, or maybe his girlfriend introduced him to a new flavour and—

To your surprise, Jungkook retrieves the ice cream from your hand and breaks into a smile. You're shocked, seeing the old Jungkook you know flash for a second in front of your eyes. He whispers a soft “thank you” as he sighs, you can tell he’s preparing to tell you something big.

Before he can start, you can’t help but question him, “Also, why isn’t your girlfriend here? Shouldn’t she be comforting you right now when you’re in this state?” Jungkook’s eyes flash with sadness at your question, he chuckles bitterly as he begins to explain.

“Jungkook I am so so sorry, you don’t deserve that at all,” You pet his hair as the poor boy sobs into your embrace. That bitch. You never knew that innocent and charming girl had the audacity to cheat on your best friend like that. Jungkook’s expression broke your heart when he started to ramble about all the horrible shit she did. He couldn’t even finish his ice cream, putting the cup down before more tears dripped into the cup.

“Thanks for being here ___, I’m serious,” Jungkook mumbles into your shoulder, “The other guys suck at consoling me,” He laughs a little, and you smile knowing that at least he could laugh about something now.

Knowing that Jungkook was ready to move on, as he told you, you knew he was not the type to dwell on the negative things in life. If anything did not go his way, he would simply move past it, emerging stronger as ever.

You were so ready to support him at this time, wanting nothing but the best for Jungkook.

Yet you felt so guilty, because a part of you was rejoicing about his break up.

———————————————————————————-

Fast forward to a month later, you thank the heavens that Jungkook is back to his normal self, but you're being extremely careful with your feelings.

Jungkook not only returned back to his normal self, but he was unknowingly, or knowingly, playing with your feelings. He often did things that made you feel funny in your stomach, or made your ears and cheeks turn red. You want to think that he was unknowingly doing such things, but the smirk on his face every time he coaxed a reaction out of you said otherwise.

“Girl, I’m telling you, he wants you for real! Look at all the stuff he’s doing,” For the millionth time, Yeji is trying to convince you that Jeon Jungkook is in love with you. You refuse to believe her, afraid to get your heart shattered for the hundred-millionth-billionth time.

You groan at her attempt to convince you. “Yeji, let’s talk about you and your boyfriend, isn’t that a much more interesting topic?” You try to distract her, but guess what?

Perfect time Jungkook, perfect time to call you at this moment.

Yeji spots the contact name, “JK🐰” light up on your phone.

“Your lover is calling you~” Yeji wiggles her eyebrows, taunting you as you roll your eyes, picking up the phone.

“Whatcha doin’?” The voice sounds over the phone, you can tell Jungkook’s smiling as he speaks.

You try to hold in a smile but you can’t seem to control your facial movements at the moment. Yeji smirks as she sees your expression but you quickly frown at her.

“I’m out with Yeji for lunch right now, why?” You ask him, smiling softly.

“Can I pick you up when you're done? I’ve got a surprise for you~” Jungkook’s honey voice rings through the phone as you laugh, imagining his expression at the moment.

“Okay sure, I’ll be done in about an hour, I’ll send you my location then,” You laugh as you reply, Yeji is excitedly staring at you as you end the call.

“Oh my gosh tell me what he said, tell me now!” She demands as she shakes your arm, you sigh at her behaviour.

“Chill, he just told me he had a surprise for me and wanted to pick me up, that’s all,” You say, but what you say doesn’t translate to how you feel. Your heart thumps loudly in your chest as you hold back a smile, but Yeji doesn’t need to know that.

Yeji continues to babble on about Jeon Jungkook the whole time you and her walked around the mall, you choose to put up with it, too excited about the said boy who was picking you up soon.

—————————————————————————

You and Yeji wait at the mall’s pick up point, you look out for Jungkook’s black Mercedes, but you don’t see it anywhere.

Suddenly, a Harley Davidson swerves into the pick up point, and both you and Yeji gasp when you see who is under the helmet.

Jeon Fucking Jungkook.

And he has a proud grin wiped across his face.

“You’re crazy!” You run up to him as you slap his arm, he winces dramatically at the impact but you know he’s simply playing with you.

“What? Don’t like it?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow at you

“It looks hot but there’s no way I’m riding this thing all the way home.” You stand your ground, “There’s no seatbelt! I swear the moment you go past a certain speed I’ll be flying off!” You slightly whine as Jungkook looks at you in amusement.

He also mumbles a “cute” under his breath, but you don’t catch it.

“If you hold on to me tight I won’t let you fall off, I promise sweetheart,” He laughs as he winks at you, your ears now turning a deep red at the sudden pet name.

You can only tsk at him as you shoo Yeji away, half forgetting that she was still standing there cooing at the interaction between the two of you.

After saying your goodbyes to Yeji, you turn around back to Jungkook, who’s currently holding out a helmet for you.

And when you attempt to take the helmet to put it on, Jungkook moves it away from your grabbing hands.

“Ah-ah let me do it,” He says, placing the helmet over your head after swiping your hair out of your face.

Your heart is pounding so loudly in your chest you’re slightly afraid Jungkook can hear your organ that is currently about to explode.

To make matters worse, when he puts on a windbreaker on you that is way too big, he zips up the zipper for you and taps your chin affectionately.

He’s playing with your feelings too much.

———————————————————————————

When you finally reach your apartment, you hurriedly get off the vehicle which you now are terrified of, considering Jungkook had teased you by suddenly increasing the speed of the motorcycle.

But you also don’t miss how he immediately grabs onto your arm to support you as you climb off his bike.

Jungkook doesn’t know how much he affects you, that’s for sure.

He takes off the windbreaker and helmet for you of course, nearly sending your poor heart into a heart attack by how fast it was beating.

You and Jungkook enter your apartment, and you plop yourself on the couch, tired out from spending the whole morning with your friend shopping and eating and dealing with her nonsense from babbling about you and Jungkook non stop.

“Are you that tired from being so scared on my bike?” Jungkook taunts you as he smirks at your form.

“No, and I’m never riding with you again, that was terrifying!” You whine as Jungkook raises his eyebrow at you in amusement.

He now shifts to tower over you, standing at where you feet are from sitting on the couch.

“You seemed to enjoy holding onto me though,” Jungkook slowly approaches you, accessing the situation to see if you were on the same page as him.

You choke on your saliva at his sudden statement, cheeks turning horribly red.

To make matters worse, Jungkook leans down, his lips grazing your ears as he whispers, “Wouldn’t you like me to hold you too? Like this?”

And before you know it, Jungkook manhandles you into his lap.

What

The

Fuck.

You don’t bother saying anything at this point, all that would have come out of your mouth would be stutters anyways.

There's this sudden burst of courage coming from you, you lean down and connect your lips with his, feeling the cold metal of his lip piercing touch your lips.

And reality hits you the moment you do so, but before you can pull away, Jungkook grabs your arms and wraps them around his neck, pulling you back to kiss him again.

He prods his tongue into your mouth as you let him, now. your panting into the kiss as he makes out with you.

You can feel Jungkook smirk against your lips as you let out a whimper and a gasp when he presses your hips down onto his lap.

And for the rest of the night Jungkook and you are all over each other, you both exhausted after how hard you two were going, but you slept comfortably in each other’s embrace.

You would definitely have some explaining to do to a lot of your friends, especially Yeji…

—————————————————————-

When everyone found out about the new relationship, chaos broke out. Yeji was frantically cooing and proclaiming how she knew it, and the rest of Jungkook's friends could not get both of your names out of their mouths.

But Jungkook proudly showed you off wherever he went, he had set a picture of you and him on a picnic date as his wallpaper, and his whole instagram page was filled with pictures of you.

In the end, both of you realised that your feelings towards each other were strong and genuine, Jungkook often teased you for not confessing your feelings earlier, but you would joke back about it too, now unaffected by the past.

Your boyfriend was the sweetest ever, Jungkook always made it a point to send you everywhere, to buy you flowers, and to shower you with affection.

After a year of dating, Jungkook had asked you to move into his apartment, and to say you cried was an understatement. The poor boy thought you burst into tears out of negative feelings, but when you hugged him ever so tightly and chanting “yes”s into his chest as you soaked his hoodie with tears, Jungkook couldn’t have been more happy.

#jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook ff #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #bts #bts ff #bts fic #jungkook comfort #bts jungkook #boyfriend jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook imagines

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moethewriter · 5 months

Note

could you do number 27 with finnick from the otp prompt list? i love yours fics!

Of course I can anon! Super excited for this one, I had the best time writing it! Lot's of angst and fluff! TITLE: The Light In The Dark WORD COUNT: 1.5k PAIRING: Finnick Odair x Reader WARNING: None! TAGS: Lot's of angst, and fluff! (As always please let me know if you think anything needs to be added) lot's of introspection and reflection from the reader! A/N: I was so so so excited to write this one! And I think it's such an amazing prompt! Thank you so much for requesting it and as always I take constructive criticism! -

District 13 was not a place you particularly enjoyed. It was safe, and secure and far better than being stranded in an arena forced to kill other people. But you weren’t as content as you had hoped you would be. When you were rescued along with everyone the rebellion scooped up, you had kept telling yourself that everything was going to be okay. You had to keep faith that whatever the next step was, was going to end all of it.

Finnick had been rescued alongside you, and he offered a comforting ear. It was so strange being close to him again. It had been a year since you two had broken up, and though it had seemed like yesterday, you were no longer the same people you once were. So much had changed, you had changed.

Though you knew once you both had been reaped that you were going to ally yourself with him. There really was no one else you would rather have at your side. Despite the separation, he had you trust and you knew he was far more capable than a lot of people gave him credit for.

There had been tension between the group, that you knew, no one got along well unless it was with Mags. You knew the other’s could sense a different type of tension between you and Finnick, one filled with unresolved feelings bubbling below the surface. It had only gotten worse after you heard his voice through the jabberjays.

Johanna had tried to talk to you afterwards, even sent Katniss your way but you wouldn’t budge. You didn’t need to have a friendship circle and talk about how you longed for Finnick and how he still had your heart. No one needed to know that but you, though you sensed Johanna had always known, she had known you better than you knew yourself most days.

There had been no major fallout with Finnick, no giant blow up that ended in destruction and despair. It had been so amicable … you had both been so busy, the life of a Victor always was. Not to mention the separation by District had been a struggle. You had been the one to bring it up, despite the pain it caused you. Finnick had agreed with you the moment you finished speaking. You hugged, and he left and then you stood there alone. You were both heartbroken over it, that much you knew.

You had cried for weeks after it, though you felt you had no right to do that. No one was able to console you, despite Johanna trying her very best too. You knew she wasn’t the best with comforting people, she had grown colder after what had happened to her family, but you appreciated the effort she had put in. Seeing Finnick on TV doing interviews, going to parties and generally being in the Capitol had upset you the most. It was hard to look at him, you knew he was hurting so much more than anyone could tell. You wanted to reach out, but you knew it would have been a bad idea. So you stayed silent and watched him from afar, and kept your thoughts about him to yourself.

Though you hoped he thought of you too.

And in a blink of an eye, months had passed. You had both been mentors for the 74th hunger games, though to no avail as your tributes had passed in the arena. You didn’t speak to him much, and he did his best to avoid you. It was strange but you knew he was coping in a far different way then you were, so you couldn’t blame him,

The universe was funny though, bringing you both together again under far different circumstances. He had come to your door days after you had been reaped for The Quarter Quell to form an alliance with you, and you were both informed together about the rebellion by Haymitch Abernathy. You were hesitant but agreed to help, as long as Finnick was there too. There wasn’t anyone else you’d want as an ally in those games. Some small part of you was thankful that he had been there.

“Penny for your thoughts.” A familiar voice broke through the jumbled mess of memories you had been reliving. “Not much in there right now.” You chuckled, turning to meet Finnick’s gaze, he seemed relaxed, and adjusting far better than most people. “Just wondering about what the next step is, thinking about all that needs to be done.” The lie came easily to you, but you knew he could see right through it. He had always been able to see past you.

“That’s not the Y/N I know.” Finnick smiled, leaning against the wall. He looked like an angel in white against the steele gray. “The one I know is simply far too deep in thought about too many things that they’re overwhelming themselves with it. Am I wrong?” He raised a knowing eyebrow.

“You know me far too well, Finnick Odair.” You snorted, crossing your arms in defeat “I was thinking about the past.” You said, quietly, almost hoping he wouldn’t catch what you said at all.

“About us?” He questioned, a strange look crossing his face.

You couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking at that moment, but you knew there was no point in lying. You didn’t want to lie to him anymore.

“You could say that.” You nodded.

“I hope it’s all good memories.” He said, meeting your eyes once more. “I know I still think of those on my dark days.” He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“You were one of the best things that ever happened to me.” You told him, earnestly. “I loved you more than life itself.”

“So you don’t regret it at all?” Finnick questioned, and you weren’t quite sure if he wanted your answer by the way his voice quivered.

“No. Not one bit.” You told him. “I don’t regret having you because you made the sun shine brighter and you made my life worth living again. You put a smile on my face anytime I wasn’t feeling myself. You were the only one who loved me when I thought I couldn’t be loved. You changed me for the better in so many ways. You were, and always have been a star amongst the darkest of skies, Finnick. That little light that kept going even though the world tried to beat it down. You have always been one of a kind. I could never regret you. I would never regret a single thing because if I didn’t have you forever at least I had you at all.” Your voice was thick with emotion, finally saying all of this to him.

You had bottled it up for so long, kept it so tight to your chest that you felt like you were going to explode into a million tiny little pieces. You knew you would always love him, but a second chance at loving him had seemed impossible.

“I don’t regret breaking things off either.” You told him. “It was the best thing we could do for both of us at the time. You and I both know that.”

“I know.” Finnick nodded, a sad smile crossing his face. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t cry for weeks after it happened though. I missed you severely during those first few months. I’m sorry I never reached out, I wanted to but I didn’t know how.”

You could see him fidgeting with his thumbs, something he only did when he was nervous, it was a quirk you thought had been adorable when you first noticed it. He had an anxious energy to him that could be hard to spot if you didn’t know him.

“It’s okay.” You whispered, sniffling a little. “That wasn’t your job anymore to be there for me.”

“You were never a job, I loved … love you and I always wanted to be there for you even when we were over.” Finnick said. “You’re the love of my life, you always have been, Y/N.”

“I’m still the love of your life?” You asked, wiping the stray tear from your eye.

Nothing could have prepared you for this conversation, but you were glad that you could air everything out. There was no one else for you but Finnick. You loved him, and you still wanted to be with him. He was the first person you thought about in the morning, and the last person you thought about before you slept. He was still the love of your life too.

He was always with you, even when he wasn’t.

“Yeah.” He said finally. “I don’t think there’s anyone else for me.”

You made a tentative step towards him, and wrapped your arms around his neck. He was tense, you could feel that, but that didn’t stop him from wrapping his arms around your waist. He was warm, he’d always been built like a furnace in contrast to your cold body temperature but you two still fit together perfectly, like two halves of a whole.

It’s like you were always meant to be in his arms.

“I still love you too.” You told him, letting yourself get lost in his arms.

“When this is all over …” He whispered into your ear. “I’m going to take you on the best date in the world, got it?”

You could hear the smile in his voice.

“Got it.” You said, hugging him tighter.

#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #the hunger games #hunger games #angst #fluff #writing #moeswriting

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lz-didyounotice · 2 months

Text

Baking weekends : The surprise

Those gifs do not belong to me.

Heyyyyy! How are you lots ? As promised, here comes another episode of the baking week ends ! This follows up the event of "An hymne to love", as well as the last espisode, "Kiss the cook".

Anyway... Hope you enjoy !

Froggit-

Warning : there's a lot of fluff, mention of making out in the tardis. English is not my first language.

--------------------------

The grocery store seemed to be way too full for a Saturday morning. Paying for the few articles you had in your basket, you got out, frantically searching for your car. There was so little time until the doctor and Clara came back from another of their adventures.

Driving as fast as the law allowed you, you pulled up to your small cottage, sprinting toward your house, paper bags in hand. Your coat was quickly put on a hanger as your shoes went flying in the entry.

Washing your hands conscientiously, you tried to get your plan straight one more time, making sure nothing was missing.

You had wanted to surprise the Doctor for a long while now. Back when Amy and Rorry were still traveling with you, a brilliant idea had come to you in the form of a red recipe book. The cover was old and titled with circles and other intricate designs you soon realized, was Gallifreyan. Having seen the notes the doctor tended to leave in the console room for repairs the Tardis needed, it was only ever so obvious.

For the sake of this recipe, you had to go to small markets while on another planet, wanting to find every single ingredient of what the doctor had stated to be his favorite dessert back home. Finally opening the book, you couldn’t help yourself, and shed a tear as you saw the numerous yellow sticky notes on every page, annotations left by Donna, your previous self older sister.

"How can I be sure he ain't as rotten as the last one?"

Donna was upset to be keeped from such an important part of your life. If you were honest, you were sad to not be able to share it, but it was either that or losing her once more.

On that day, you had asked for her help, but she wanted to know more about that brilliant

stranger you said changed you in better ways.

"Do you reckon I would be baking for him if he weren't important?"

"Cor blimey, you two had been goin’ out for bleedin’ three years, and I still never met the bloke!"

“I told you he traveled an awful lot.” you let out passing by the radio and changing the station.

“Just spill it if he's scared of meeting mom.” She let out with a small laugh. You could only do the same, bumping her with your hip as you did so.

You missed her dearly, her and her sassy comebacks. Since your new “Regeneration” you haven't been able to see her. What would she even say ? She didn’t know this version of you, you didn’t even look the same, and putting her life at risk would be irresponsible. You had just hopped that may be one day you would meet her once more.

Putting up some energetic music, you wore your apron and got to work, sleeves put up to the elbow. The adventure only truly started now, something you waited so long to put up.

--------------------------

The doctor and Clara had been off all day, the brunette insisting on going a little longer, still waiting for your signal. The timelord was starting to be suspicious of Claras behavior, wondering what got his companion so energized for such a long adventure, he even was starting to wonder if she wasn’t a clone trying to keep him from earth longer than normal.

But like the over-excited traveler he was, he couldn’t put down the offer, for all he knew, he was expected back at your cottage by the end of afternoon. Today was a busy day for you, and even if he wanted to have taken you with them, you insisted for them to spend some time together. It saddened him of course, none the less he understood today wasn’t a good day to go off with her.

Right now, the doctor was admiring a beautiful fez he had found within the small shop he and Clara came across, visiting a brand new planet. Soon enough he felt his shoulder being tapped on by the said girl, a tired smile visibly drawing itself on her lips. Asking the doctor to take her home, Clara had just closed her phone, saving it in her back pocket.

After buying the fez, he seemed proud as he pushed the levers on the console. Rocking his new hat, Clara only could wonder if he would ever come across one without having to put it on. Even if she didn’t dream of seeing him less happy, she wanted the surprise that awaited him back home would light him up even brighter.

With the Brunette back at her apartment, the doctor had no patience in waiting some more and launched the Tardis. Soon, his foot touched the vast landing of grass, still illuminated as the sun slowly hid behind the clouds.

Without any hesitation, his hand found the ringing bell of the small cottage, his heart pounding harder and harder as the seconds got by.

Passing your head by the now unlocked window, the doctor seemed to ignite, happy to finally be back. “Darling, the door is open! Come on in!” Your hair was a mess, your glasses hanging from around your neck, beautifully portrayed by the light of the setting sun highlighting your figure. Smiling at you, the doctor entered the house, coming practically 10 seconds later face to face with you. “Well, welcome home Sweetheart”.

--------------------------

“I told you to not cheat! close those beautiful eyes before I smack you.”

The doctor was too curious to wait for the surprise you had put up for him. And right now, all he wanted was to take a tiny peak. But knowing how serious you could be about those things, he didn’t jocked around long before closing his eyes.

Soon you entered the room, a beautiful cake in your hands. Its sunny color, outshining the yellow of your apron. Slowing placing the cake before the Doctor. You gently brushed his shoulder. “Doctor, you can open them… ”

Finally letting go of his face, the man thought he was dreaming. Before him stood something that was supposed to be long gone, never to be seen again. And as he admired the wonderful pâtisserie, he couldn’t help but notice it wasn't just any Gallifreyan cake; it was a homemade one.

Both his hearts skipped a beat as he realized the significance of the gesture. Turning to his wife with a mixture of surprise and gratitude, he couldn't help but smile.

"Did you...?" he started, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

You couldn’t help but beamed with pride when you saw the love in his eyes. "Yes, Doctor. I thought since you couldn't go back to Gallifrey yet, I'd bring a little piece of it to you."

The Doctor's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he looked at the cake, overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of your gesture. At this moment, all he could think of was how much he loved you, and how much you meant.

Taking a deep breath to steady his emotions, the Doctor rose from his chair, wrapping both arms around you, burying his head in the crook of your neck, trying to hide his tears as they got out of control. Pulling you into a tight yet comforting hug, all he could muster was a soft “Thank you” thick with all the love he could let out. "This... means more to me than you could ever know."

Your hand was now passing on his back, soothing him as much as you could. Your other tangled itself with his soft hair as you stood there for another minute. You never wanted this embrace to end. But as you pulled slightly away, you could only see how much the doctor truly meant every word.

With a gentle smile, you reached down, your hand slowly cradling his cheek as you leaned in softly, closing the distance between them. Your breath mingled, warm yet sweet as your lips brushed together in a soft yet passionate kiss. But as you parted, the doctor only tried to reach for your lips, making you snort softly at the surprised look on his face.

“I do believe we still have to taste the cake, now don’t we?”

“I- … yes”

“We will continue… this after…-”

--------------------------

And to say you had outdone yourself was an understatement. You would have expected it to taste funny with the numerous strange ingredients you had to add. It was heavenly, and by the doctor's face, you could only tell he was enjoying every second of it.

“Is it any good ?” Serving yourself another portion.

"Blimey, love! This... this is fantastic! Haven't had a nibble like this in eons... It's not just good, it's utterly brilliant! Delicious doesn't even begin to describe it!" He answered, still trying to shove more cake in his mouth.

Your cheeks flared up, genuinely happy, and proud you had done such good work. In the beginning, you feared it wouldn’t have the same taste as the one that existed back home, and you felt relieved that the doctor could recognize a fond memory in it.

--------------------------

It was safe to say, the cake did not survive long enough. You and the doctor, now cuddling in the softness of the Tardis covers.

After the cake had been devoured, you had to have a turn. The thankful kisses you gave one another, turned into a heated session of making out against the tardis console, his fingerprints still lingering on your inner thighs. And just like that it was you and him against the world once more.

His fingers passed through your short ginger hair as a comfortable silence installed itself. You looked up at him and could tell he had some questions about the whole surprise.

“You have a lot of questions don’t you ?”

“I always do…”

“Ask away then, I know you’re curious.”

Shifting slightly closer, the doctor leaned onto his elbow, making his face right above you. “How long did this take you ?”

Your hand reaching out for his jaw, you pulled a small but sad grin. “I started trying back when Amy was still traveling with us. Unfortunately, I died shortly after so… been planning longer than our wedding. ”

The doctor laughed slightly with you, remembering the chaotic moment. “And the recipe? Where did you find it? The Tardis database is still written in Gallifreyan as far as I’m aware of- ”

“No such trouble when you have learned to read it.”

“What..?”

“Why so surprised? Did you think I would traverse the universe for eons and not try to embrace your culture? What sort of wife would I be ?”

And just when he thought he couldn’t love you more, he did. His hearts swelled with pride as he looked into your eyes. Caressing your cheek, he kissed your forehead, brushing away some strands of hair still in the way.

“You truly are remarkable (Y/N).....”

“It goes both ways my Bowtie maniac.”

And as the sun rose again on the Tardis, the two lovers intertwined once more, laying one against another as close as you could, afraid time might slip by and take you both apart.

You couldn’t have dreamed of a better outcome.

--------------------------

Bonus :

“I knew Clara was up to something!” Complained the time lord only now realizing why his companion was so indecisive about where to land.

“Only figured now she had to keep you busy while I was baking?”

“That’s an awful trickery-”

“As far as I’m aware, if you hadn't been off, you wouldn’t have this wonderful fez of yours, now would you ?” Turning around him you swiftly took the red hat off his head, putting it on your own.

“Oi, mine-” He quickly tried to retrieve it, but knowing you it could be easy or involve a lot of running.

Dodging his hand, you took the opportunity to run off in the Tardis corridors singing “Nope, mine now!” as you ran across the control room.

“(Y/N)! ” The doctor was slightly panicked but it was just a matter of time before all of it evolved into laughter.

#11th doctor x reader!oc #the doctor x reader #doctor who x reader #doctor who x imortal reader #eleventh doctor x reader #noble family x reader #reader Oc #fluff

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tim-shii · 1 year

Text

the stakes are high, the water's rough.

pairing: nagi seishiro x reader

tags: office au, office worker!nagi, he is not a football player in this, established relationship, fluff, introvert office worker nagi my beloved 😓

a/n: i love love love the ours mv by taylor swift so i was like ykw why not nagi office worker ,, makes u wonder what would happen if nagi didnt play football and became a pro hmm HAHHAHA my irls also helped w what do people even do in an office so ty to them theyre the best 🫶 enjoy this mwa also thank u nie babe (@fuyuluvr) for beta reading may kith ka sakin 😚

the morning air is definitely not good for the lungs. in a busy city, long gone were the fresh and cool winds of the province. instead, fog and vehicle smoke fill the atmosphere, smothering people on their way to work.

what a dull world to live in, nagi thinks. making his way towards the elevator after mindlessly showing his identification card to the probably half asleep desk attendant and high-fiving the friendly janitor who never fails to greet him every morning.

ding! as the doors slid open, nagi could feel himself melting to the ground. it’s 7:54 am, office hours start at seven. he’s late but so what? it’s not like his boss cares enough for attendance. because of this, he gets an extra 10 minutes to sleep in. so why? why is the elevator so full of people that he has to squish his 190 cm build who’s carrying a briefcase? sighing dejectedly, nagi thinks he should’ve just taken the stairs.

it was silent. other than the constant whirs of the elevator going up, no one dares speak a word. it makes nagi cringe, to be honest. he feels like he’s in a room with a bunch of npc’s just trying to do their role. as soon as the lift stops at the thirteenth floor, nagi is pushed left and right as his fellow employees rush to their desks.

nagi walks over to his desk sluggishly. each step just adds to his growing boredom. the office is still the same as ever. the coffee that toppled over yesterday is still left unclean and the corner plant who has seen better days.

dragging his feet to his assigned cubicle, nagi sat down with a huff. looking around, he notices mr. takahashi, his senior who has worked here for more than ten years, standing in front of the water dispenser just staring into space. yep. this will be a long seven hours.

throughout the day, nagi felt nothing but exhaustion and endless boredom. his boss was nowhere to be found, as usual. he went to three different printers in the office and not a single one of them worked. he couldn't even concentrate on the report he was working on because the beeping from his co-worker's game almost made him pull out his own console and neglect his duty. during lunch, two people whose names nagi didn't even care to know about kept snickering while looking back at him eating his melon bread. how bothersome, indeed.

as soon as the clock strikes four, nagi wasted no time in tidying up his things. rushing towards the exit, nagi even ditches the elevator and ran down the stairs instead, he high fived the janitor for the second time of the day.

while on the bus, nagi decided to play games to pass time. taking in his homescreen wallpaper. a picture of you two at a park, his arms around you from behind, his cheek squished against your own. you beaming at the camera and him having the most miniscule smile ever known to man.

two years ago, you got an offer to study abroad in an exchange student program. at first, you refused, not wanting to leave nagi behind and came along were the doubts if you're even gonna survive in a foreign place all on your own. but nagi talked to you about it and urged you to just go, he'll be fine. he was not fine. during the first week, nagi couldn't sleep. he felt homesick in his own home. at some point, he's even thankful his job is everyday and keeps him away from home, nagi can't believe he ever thought that.

and now, nagi's on his way to the airport. to pick you up. because finally, after two whole long torturous years, you're coming home. to him.

nagi waits at the doors, anxiously tapping his feet. looking ahead, his eyes met yours and all of a sudden, the world doesn't seem so dull anymore. he watches as you run towards him, dropping your baggage at your wake and throwing yourself at him. arms around his neck and legs around his waist, nagi holds you tightly as if he's afraid to let you go again. he pulls your face back, his palm feels warm on your cheek.

"hi, sei. did you miss me?" you whispered, oh so delicately. nagi didn't utter anything back, only staring at you. eyes wandering around your features, rememorizing the face he's only been seeing inside a tiny box for the last two years. nagi leans in slowly, taking your lips in his. he kisses you with longing and fervor.

"missed you. i missed you so much." you heard him mumble into the kiss. pulling back only to hide his face in your neck, nipping at the skin before putting you down.

"let's go home?" you ask him, hands cupping his face. he nods.

home. nagi thinks it's a nice word when you say it.

likes and reblogs are appreciated! masterlist

#blue lock x reader #blue lock #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock imagines #bllk imagines #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro #nagi x reader #blue lock nagi #seishiro nagi #blue lock fluff #bllk fluff #tim writes.

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dilatorywriting · 1 year

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Monster Mayhem: Don't Fear the Reaper [Part 2]

Gender Neutral Reader x Rook Hunt Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: 'Hello Darkness, my old friend. I see you've come to stalk my store again.' Or, why fear Death when you can just Pavlov him with cookies into carrying your groceries?

A/N: Based on this wonderful brain rot from a very lovely anon! Continued apologies to anyone who actually knows French, because I do not lol. So Rook's babbling is all Google baby

[PART 1] [PART 2]

“I hear you’ve been dealing with an infestation.”

You arched a brow and pointedly settled the last of the little, strawberry, tarts into its box with a heavy plap. You took your time piping a neat dollop of cream on the top and then fixing the tiny sugar berry adornments into a smiley face.

“You’re free to call the health inspector,” you intoned, handing over the box. “That’ll be ten copper, your highness.”

Riddle’s face went as red as the dessert in his hands.

“Don’t call me that!” he hissed, ducking back further beneath the hood of his cloak. The cloak that was clearly made of the finest, crimson, silks money could buy. The one with real gold embroidered along the crisp edges and an ivory clasp shaped into a literal crown.

You shrugged. At least he’d moved past demanding outright that ‘of course he wasn’t the prince! How dare you! To think yourself so presumptuous! As if royalty would ever even consider visiting this hovel of yours! Off with your head!’ Those had been a fun few weeks.

You poked around in your stacks upon stacks of baked goods and unearthed a little, cherry, cookie. You slipped it into the box alongside his tart and hoped that counted as a metaphorical pat on the head. There, there, little lord. This humble one will tell no one of your secret, commoner, shames.

Some of that choked-red color started to fade from his cheeks, and Riddle accepted the offering with an expression that on any normal person you might have called a pout.

“I was trying to be tactful,” he spat, tucking the bribe further into the packaging with a stiff twitch of the fingers. “But I don’t know why I even bother.”

You shrugged again and made brief eye contact with the terribly unsubtle guard stationed at your front door. Cater, or Carter, or something like that. He greeted everyone who walked by with a cheerful little wave and a wink. He was charismatic, and loud, and apparently—as you had discovered when you’d tried to hand him a little slice of cake as a consolation treat for putting up with his charge’s emotionally constipated nonsense—hated sweet things with every fiber of his being. You didn’t trust him for a second.

The pair of you locked gazes over Riddle’s shoulder, and his lips quirked into a smirk that was sharper than it was fond. Ah. So it was one of those days, was it?

“Is there something else you wanted?” you prodded intentionally, as Riddle turned to make his retreat.

The Prince paused for a moment, and you watched his teeth worry a bit at his lower lip—a nervous habit he claimed forwards and backwards he absolutely did not possess. After a moment of silent deliberation, he straightened his spine into something stiff and regal.

“There are rumors going around that your business may be suffering from a… pest problem,” he said, like he was chewing over each word individually. “And while I firmly believe that people should endeavor to work through their own problems, if this is indeed a problem…” he paused, hands tightening a bit around the pastry box tucked neatly between his palms before looking back up to meet your gaze with that harsh sort of determination that always made him seem very much like someone who ought to be ruling over entire kingdoms. “I’m certain the Royal Family would be more than happy to come to the aid any of their subjects, should they ask for it.”

You ducked your head in a nod that you hoped was the appropriate level of polite for such a declaration.

“Your concern is appreciated, your high—”

His face twisted up in a sneer and you beamed.

“—Highly esteemed customer,” you finished with a chirp. “But I’m perfectly capable of crushing a few cockroaches.”

Riddle nodded at you tightly and made a swift exit. Cater flicked his fingers at you in a half-salute and the pair continued on down the cobblestone street and out of sight.

“Do you actually have pests here?” a tiny old lady asked from her place perusing your shelves. She looked like an onion that had been left in the sun for a couple dozen years, and the question seemed kinder than it did probing. Like she would happily help you hunt down the little buggers herself. “Roaches, I mean…?”

“Oh no,” you reassured. “It’s much bigger.”

You watched the poor thing nearly go into conniptions and offered her a cup of fresh chai on the house.

As much as you had kindly reassured your most affluent patron otherwise, you were indeed suffering under the aforementioned ‘pest problem.’ And while your squishing abilities were normally the stuff of legend, you didn’t think there was a boot big enough in the whole world to rid you of your current guest.

“Quelle très belle matinée! And made all the better by my dearest friend!”

You grunted and let the door slip shut with a tinkle behind him. Rook nearly bounced to your oven and peered inside with all the eagerness of a wide-eyed child. You’d long since learned not to bother yanking him back from the flames. They never even seemed to warm his pale cheeks, let alone melt him into the puddle of charred goo that they rationally ought to.

“Macarons?” he chirped, and turned to you like he was waiting for a Good Noodle Sticker. He leaned closer, and you watched the sputtering heat sway around and away from him like a tangible thing. He sniffed a few times, looking thoughtful. “Flavored delightfully with that lovely rosewater syrup you were steeping last night?

You hummed in affirmation and handed him a little almond cookie for his efforts. It felt a bit like training a dog.

The first time you’d told a dejected looking Rook that he could eat his treat in your shop rather than using it an as excuse to punt him out the door, he’d practically glowed. And had apparently taken the offer as an extension of a permanent invitation. He still waited patiently at the front door each morning, still marveled at the merry jingle of the bell when you allowed him entrance, and always wiped his feet. You’d hoped a bit that perhaps overexposure to your meager, repetitive, livelihood would have him eventually bowing out from boredom. But if anything, he seemed to have become more enamored with your dealings as the weeks passed.

And now that you’d given him express permission to hover, his originally vested interest had become outright sticky. There was no more plastering himself distantly to the window when he could go and literally shove his face into an oven, or perch himself at your shoulder like a wide-eyed owl as you tried to whip egg whites into peaks without repeatedly elbowing him in the gut. He puttered after you like a duck quacking for its mother, spouting off every question under the sun about temperatures, and consistencies, and the merits of baking powder versus soda.

“And these are meant to be… burned? Yes?”

“Dehydrated,” you sighed. “And not these. You’re thinking of the meringue cookies.”

“Ah, I see. Those crunchy delicacies from yesterday that looked to be little clouds,” he hummed, nodding along. The feather on his hat bobbed over a hot coal and sparked with embers. You reached out with a frustrated huff to whack the walking fire hazard back into a gently smoking mess rather than the start of an outright blaze. “Merci, merci!” Rook trilled as you beat him with a damp towel. Black soot floated through the air like dust motes under the sun, and he grinned through your grouchy manhandling as he always did. “Ahh, cher pâtissier! You always do dote on me so!”

You were about to argue back about how keeping him from unintentionally annihilating your entire kitchen was not ‘doting,’ when your eyes trailed over something strangely gunky and off colored stuck on the back of his cloak. You leaned forward to pluck up whatever it was, and Rook’s fingers flew out to snatch up your wrist before you could even blink.

“Please pardon me, mon cœur!” he beamed, the lines of his leather gloves a soft weight against your flour dusted skin. “I have tried to be most diligent in keeping myself clean for our morning rendezvous! But alas, it would seem I’ve missed a spot this time around.”

Part of you was sorely tempted to ask what—who—had apparently dirtied his robes. But you decided ultimately that it was still far too early to be discussing the remnants of the unfortunate victims off his hit list, and honestly you really weren’t sure you would have cared even with another four hours of sleep and a full mug of caffeine in you. So you waved him off and went back to worrying over your spice racks and tallying cups of flour.

Rook pillowed his chin in his hand and watched you putter about with a sigh that sounded far too besotted for anyone’s good. Those eerily green eyes of his seemed to glow in the lowlight, and he only gushed even more ridiculously when you launched a wet rag at the mess on his back and demanded he mop up his own nonsense or get out.

You didn’t realize that Rook was slowly staying later and later into the day until Ace came by to collect your weekly booklet of receipts and would not step through the door.

“What are you, contagious?” you harumphed, pointedly leaning over the threshold to shove your collection of bits and bobs into his waiting hands rather than stepping out into the street to join him.

“More like superstitious,” he snipped. He crossed his arms and gave your shop a pointed once over. “I thought Egg Boy was overexaggerating, but you really just…” He waved his hands around his head for a moment before letting out an angry huff that sounded a bit too much like an overboiled kettle. “Don’t you have any sense of self-preservation?!”

“You literally ate raw dough off my floor less than a month ago,” you accused.

“I already told you I didn’t know it wasn’t cooked!—And that��s not the point!” he seethed. “Don’t you realize who that is?” he continued, voice dipping into one of those angry whispers that was never really a whisper.

You rolled your eyes and turned to shout over your shoulder. “Rook Hunt?”

The blonde instantly perked up from his place perched by the counter, where he’d very clearly been watching this entire exchange with a lazily curling grin.

“Oui! However can I be of assistance to you, my lovely, darling, pâtis—”

You turned back to Ace.

“Yes, I know who he is.”

“—And of course I know who you are as well!” Rook barreled onwards, slipping forward to drape himself along your shadow like a cat might settle itself into a sunbeam. He never leaned on you outright, but he always made a point to get close enough that he may as well have. “The wonderful artiste who has shown me nothing but the greatest kindness! Ah, mon humain préféré! With your endless hospitality and words sweeter than even the finest of the confections you craft!”

Ace’s expression twisted up like the very idea of another living being considering you to be even halfway pleasant was a war crime. Which, you know, totally fair. But before your redheaded acquaintance could continue with his appalled gaping, Rook leaned over your shoulder with a smile that looked not quite right on his face. The wide brim of his hat obscured your view of the rest of him—casting the remaining slopes of his sharp features into inky darkness.

“And but of course, I know you as well, Monsieur Trappola!”

Whatever rotten, sour, look Ace had been pulling froze over into something nearly deathlike. He went so pale so quickly your thoughts swung back to wondering if maybe he really was contagious with something.

Your shaky friend? Fellow gossip? associate audibly gulped, but when neither he nor your leech of a guest said anything further, you prompted them both with a vaguely curious, “Oh? You’ve met before?”

“Not recently,” Rook trilled, sounding positively delighted. “But I suppose I am familiar with everyone in this petite ville one way or another.”

You hummed, not particularly satisfied with that non-answer of an explanation. But your brief bought of inquisitiveness was quickly being overshadowed by the very real risk that Ace may actually topple over frothing at the mouth and twitching like a rabid racoon at your doorstep. Which would no doubt be terrible for business.

“You better get going,” you prompted, debating giving him a shove with your foot. “Before you start running behind on your pickups.”

“Right…” Ace muttered, swallowing past a lump in his throat. “I should—I’ll be doing that. Leaving. I’ll be leaving.”

“Adieu, Monsieur Trappola!~” Rook called, as the door slid shut with a pleasant tingle. “I’m certain we’ll be seeing you!”

There was a lingering, creaking, da-dong sound from overhead and you wondered idly if maybe there was something a bit off with your bells.

That afternoon, after you finally heaved an exhausted sigh of relief and flipped the ‘OPEN’ sign at your storefront to ‘CLOSED,’ Rook was still perched on the little stool you’d set out for him. The late-day sunshine cast him in all sorts of unfamiliar shades of gold, and while the shadows beneath his feet had always seemed to stretch a bit long and sit a bit oddly, they twitched even more strangely in the glow of the summer light. You blinked at him in open surprise, and he blinked back at you.

“What are you still doing here?”

“Mon chéri, I am always here!” he chirped, and you rolled your eyes towards the ceiling in a silent bid for patience.

“No you’re not,” you argued. “I think I would have noticed.”

Rook held a gloved hand to his mouth to smother a laugh and shook his head at you like you were just the funniest little thing.

“As you say, my tenacious pâtissier.”

You sighed and moved to untie the ribbon of your apron. “Whatever. I suppose I could use your help anyways. I need to run to the markets.”

The Bounty Hunter’s eyes lit with that familiar, sparkling, enthusiasm and he clasped his fingers in his lap with a gust of breath that sounded like it rattled every one of his bones as it squeaked its way out of him.You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. You hoped he hadn’t caught whatever mystery ailment Ace had been sagging under when he’d arrived at your door that morning.

“Shopping!” he outright beamed, putting the glitter of the afternoon sun to shame. “Une nouvelle aventure avec mon amour! Et en journée! Temps à passer avec—”

“Enoughwith your nonsense,” you groaned, tossing your dirtied apron onto a free hook. “Do you want to come or not?”

“But of course! I would be most honored to—”

You shoved a wicker basket into his hands and hurriedly moved to usher him out the door before he could begin monologuing in earnest.

Rook walked the familiar path to the markets like a tourist on holiday—stopping every now and again to wax poetic about the way that a potted flower looked in the afternoon light, staring in awe at each bizarre crack in the pavement as if it was a natural marvel worth gawking at. He muttered something dazedly under his breath at one point about ‘what messes might embed themselves in these fissures of the earth,’ but you carried on like you’d gone blind and deaf. A skill you’d become incredibly proficient with as of late.

When you finally arrived at the little hub of stalls, there was an audible gasp from somewhere in the thin crowds. You decided once again that you were better off feigning impairment and pushed onwards as if you had no idea that people were parting around you and your new companion like the pair of you were riddled with plague sores. The gossipy man who sold you your favorite strawberries went a bit green when you approached, and you continued merrily with your farce.

You had only just leaned forward to get a better look at some of the berries you tended to hoard like a dragon to gold, when suddenly the bright reds and blues beneath your fingers went nearly grey—nearly rotten. There was a long, sharp, shadow curling along the fruit. Rook was hovering at your shoulder, as he of course tended to do, and you glanced between him and the twisting, creeping, darkness swallowing the contents of the little stall in front of you. Clearly it was his purple-clad frame blocking the sunlight and casting all these weird shadows, but it was still a bit bizarre. It was like the brightness itself was being sucked from the afternoon, rather than just the cool play of the light that it ought to be.

You reached out curiously to poke a finger into the dancing bits of darkness and were surprised to find that it felt like something solid. A tangible sort of bite against your skin. Something sharp, and cold as the grave—

“Perhaps the melons, mon cœur!” Rook chirped loudly, redirecting your prodding with a cheery nudge. “They smell enticingly ripe.”

You hummed, your musings on the unnatural settling into the back of your mind in favor of reaching out to give the fruits a good shake. They did feel quite nice.

Rook swayed a bit at your shoulder, and you glanced up at him with an arched brow.

“Are you alright?”

“I do not often spend time in the sun,” he admitted, and you blinked once again at those lanky shadows before turning on him with a tight, little, frown.

“You should have said something,” you scolded. “I would have brought you a—” your eyes landed on his wide brimmed hat and its cheerful, black, feather as it bobbed in the breeze. “…never mind. But you still should have told me.”

“Ah, your worry is a balm upon ma pauvre âme!” he crooned, resting his palm against his heart. “What has a wretched creature such as I done to earn such warm regard? And alas—what then could this poor beast do to maintain such a blessing?”

“He could help me find a bag of milled flour for one thing,” you sighed, hoping to derail the burgeoning soliloquy.

“But of course!” he chirped and immediately darted off around a corner to hunt down what you’d asked of him.

You gathered up a heaping portion of fresh berries (back to the their healthy, summer, glow now that your shadow had been sent away), and ruffled around in your bag to retrieve the coppers needed to pay for your haul. The vendor reached out a shaky hand to clasp at your wrist and you raised a brow at him curiously.

“Are you okay?” he hissed, still a very unpleasant shade of sea-sick.

“Are any of us really?” you intoned blandly, and dropped the required coins neatly on the cart.

You’d only just turned back around when Rook came trotting back through the rows of carts—three gigantic sacks of flour tossed over one shoulder. It looked absolutely ridiculous, with the mass of them rising far past his head and setting his hat at an awkward slope.

“That seems a little excessive,” you sighed.

“Non, non!” he argued. “You are nearly out! There will certainly not be enough to prepare both the croissants and that lovely chocolate cake you were planning to make.”

“Oh,” you blinked, and mentally tried to tally up whatever had remained of your provisions. He was probably right—you’d gone a bit overboard experimenting with different types of pretzel dough. “You don’t mind carrying that, do you?” you asked with a furrowed brow. “That all looks like it weighs nearly as much as you do.”

Rook chuckled pleasantly under his breath, and somehow managed to dip forward into a bow that didn’t end with the enormous sacks balanced atop his shoulders spilling forward all over the road.

“It would be my pleasure, mon cœur,” he smiled, very nearly a purr.

You shrugged and went back to meandering contentedly through the stalls, happy to push all of the menial physical labor off onto someone who seemed more than delighted to relish in its ache. Rook trailed merrily at your heels—the sun heavy at his back and highlighting each step with those dripping, inky, shadows. The faint outline of a ragged, hooded, robe brushed nearly unseen through the dirt, broken only by trailing, white, puffs of loose flour.

TAG LIST [CLOSED]

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#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #My Writing #Rook Hunt x Reader #Rook x Reader #Rook Hunt x Yuu #Reaper!Rook #Monster Mayhem #Fantasy AU #Rook Hunt #Riddle Rosehearts #Cater Diamond #Ace Trappola #Monster Mayhem Rook Part 2

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lipglossanon · 4 months

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In Heaven, Everything is Fine

╔═════ °• ♔ •° ═════╗

Dark stepdad!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (finale)

Hello, hello 👋

This is the finale of dark stepdad! I’m trying to wrap up some of these little storylines since I want to write, well, other stories lol. Not saying I’ll never write about him again, just the ‘main’ story is now over and done with.

Posted on ao3 first since I was on a tumblr break lol

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, stepcest, daddy kink, Leon being nice to reader (with ulterior motives of course), character death, grief, kissing, dirty talk, slight nipple play, praise, pussy spanking, collaring, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, thigh fucking

Title from a song of the same name in the movie Eraserhead

part ii

╚═════ °• ♔ •° ═════╝

It was an accident. That’s what the officer at the front door relayed to you. A freak car accident that left you motherless in the blink of an eye. Lucky for you, Leon was standing behind you and heard it at the same time so no need to repeat the awful news. He seemed even more shocked than you.

“What do you mean? How did it happen?”

The officer only offered a very generic answer of a drunk driver jumping the median and hitting your mom head on and killing her instantly, like that’s any consolation. In disbelief, you wandered away to the living room to sit down on the couch, letting Leon and the officer talk.

It’s been three weeks now since the funeral, (closed casket because you couldn’t bear anyone else to see your mom in that state). You’ve been roaming the house like a ghost. Barely eating and drinking. Leon has been working overtime in trying to manage everything on his own. Secretly, you feel like he owes you that much. Your fucked up relationship with him has morphed into Leon being an actual caretaker in regards to your needs. It’s not too unexpected, but you didn’t think he would be as considerate as he has been.

It’s routine now for you to fall asleep on the couch and wake up in his bed, too tired to go to your room, letting yourself fall back to sleep next to him. Truthfully, you sleep a lot now; you know it’s not a healthy way to cope with your grief, but you also don’t give a fuck. Your mom’s dead. Your dad’s too busy to give you the time of day. Hell, he only sent a wreath of mourning to the funeral and a quick phone call of apologies to you for not being there.

Leon is truly the only person you can rely on right now and he’s been doing phenomenal, surprising you when you actually think about it and not battling the sadness threatening to overwhelm you. He’s also kept to himself aside from trying to get you to eat or drink. You know financial and legal matters have taken up a lot of his time, but even when he has moments to himself, he’s in his office on the phone with his work colleagues sorting out issues while he’s on a leave of absence.

Months pass in this way. You eventually pull yourself out of the miasma you’ve been sucked into, the grief not growing any smaller but you yourself growing around it. When the time comes to go back to class, you opt into taking the semester off. You stay at home and slowly start organizing your mother’s belongings. Leon helps if you ask, but it’s mostly you deciding on what you want to keep and what you’d like to store until you’re ready to part with it.

Another month of crying over knick-knacks and clothes, you finally finish up sorting everything you feel needs to be stored. Looking for Leon, you eventually find him in his office. You hover in his doorway and watch how his shoulder blades flex under his button down while he wraps up a phone call.

“I know, everything was moved up due to the accident. I didn’t have anything in place. I did have to change my plans, but it all worked out in the end, didn’t it? She’s—“

Leon pauses and turns to see you at the door.

“Let me call you back. Yeah.”

He places his phone down onto the desk and steeples his fingers as he leans his elbows onto the oaky top.

“Did you need something, beautiful?”

“It’s finished,” you gesture vaguely to the second floor, “I have everything sorted for tomorrow.”

He nods and grabs his phone, “I’ll email the moving company to let them know we’re ready for pickup.”

You sigh shakily, “Thanks, Leon.”

He gives you a tight smile, “It’s no problem. Are you hungry?”

Looking down at your feet, you watch as you wiggle your toes in their socks, “Not really.”

“You need to eat,” he stands up from his desk, tucking his phone into his pocket, “let’s head into the kitchen and find something.”

You lean into his warm frame as he steps up next to you, pulling him into a hug.

“Thank you,” you murmur into his chest, tears beading your lash line, “it would be worse without you here.”

Tensing, he freezes up for a second before he wraps his arms around you in a tight hug.

“I’ll always take care of you,” he kisses the shell of your ear, making you shiver.

He keeps an arm wrapped around you, pressing you into his side as you both walk to the kitchen. Guiding you to sit down at the countertop, he turns and begins rifling through the cabinets. With sudden clarity, you realize this is the first time since it all happened that you’ve sought him out. He’s been really present and patient with you while you navigate the death of your mom—just a steadfast presence in the background.

Tears slip from your lashes and you wipe them away by the time he turns back to you.

“Do you— what’s wrong?”

He walks over to you and cups your face with his big hands, thumbs rubbing away the tear tracks on your cheeks.

“I-I,” you smile even though it’s watery, heart fluttering in your chest like a bird, “I’m so thankful you’re here is all.”

“Of course,” he murmurs, eyes blank and unreadable, “you’re my special girl.”

He dips down and presses a featherlight kiss against your lips making you gasp. It’s the first time he’s shown any affection of this kind in months and it makes your fingers tingle and your stomach warm. Before he pulls away, your hands snag into his button down and pull him back in for another kiss. You’ve missed the physical connection you had with him before this whole ordeal.

“Beautiful,” he groans against your mouth, kissing you hungrily, hands going down to grab your hips and squeeze, “ my perfect pretty girl.”

“Leon,” you whimper, cunt throbbing with need that’s been lying forgotten and dormant for months on end, “daddy, please .”

“Are you sure?” He kisses a hot trail down your neck, nipping the sensitive skin.

“Yes, please,” you whine, hands tangling in his hair, “take me to bed.”

He growls and scoops you up in a bridal carry, quickly moving you upstairs to his bedroom and setting you down on the bed. Kissing you heatedly, he pins you down with his broad body, grinding his bulge into your clothed cunt. Pulling back, he helps you shimmy out of your sweats and underwear, watching with dilated eyes as clear strings of slick spider web between the gusset of your panties and your glistening pussy.

He finishes undressing you and then moves on to himself, tossing his clothes in a heap next to the bed before pressing his hot throbbing cock against your mound.

“Oh,” you gasp, rocking your hips up to feel the drippy head of his dick rub against your swollen clit.

“Wait,” Leon moves to the side to open up the nightstand and pulls out the buttery faux leather collar he bought for you ages ago.

He holds it out to you yet you shy away. You love the feeling you have when wearing it, but that plate with cursive writing is just too much for you to look at right now. It might seem silly, but sometimes the oddest things set you off and this happens to be one of them.

“It’s a lot,” your eyes dart away from the gold tag.

Leon notices and smoothly unclips it to tuck it back into the drawer. Your brows pinch together for a moment, but then you nod face smoothing into a small smile.

“Okay,” you move closer and Leon clips the collar around your neck.

“We’ll save the mommy tag for later,” he soothes, running his hands across your neck, fingers gliding down your clavicles to drag down the stiff peaks of your breast.

A small pang of hurt twinges in your chest, but Leon chases it away with pleasure as he teases your nipples with his fingers.

“Thank you, daddy,” you whimper, pressing your chest out so he can tug harder on your nipples.

“You’re very welcome,” he coos, kissing the apple of your cheek, “such a sweet girl for me today.”

“Missed you,” you sigh out as he pinches your sensitive nipples between his thumb and forefinger, “feels so good.”

“Seem extra sensitive,” Leon murmurs, squeezing your breasts before rolling the hard buds between his fingers until you’re moaning softly.

He ducks his head down to lick across a hard nipple, pressing a kiss on the puckered skin of your areola.

“So sexy,” he groans, hands groping and squeezing the fat of your breasts, fingers tweaking your nipples to watch you shiver, “love playing with your cute tits.”

He latches on to a nipple and groans as he suckles while your fingers tangle in his sandy blonde hair.

“ Daddy ,” you keen in your throat, fingers tugging at his hair as he nips and sucks at your hard buds.

“So good,” he laps the trail of spit dripping off of the swell of your breasts, “can tell you like when I suck your tits, baby.”

You lose yourself to his hot mouth as he licks and sucks at your nipples, his big hands cupping your breasts so he can squeeze them. Shifting in his lap, your cunt leaks slick until it’s soaking your thighs letting you easily rock and grind your mound against his fat dick.

Shifting around, Leon sits with his back against the headboard and pulls you into his lap. You moan as his thick cock parts your pussy lips to grind against your entire cunt.

“Look at you, precious girl,” Leon’s voice oozes praise, making you writhe in his lap, “soaking wet and we’ve barely started.”

“Leon,” you whisper and he hums, eyes still watching as he ruts his cock against your slit.

“C-can you spank my pussy?”

He growls, eyes snapping up to your face, “Yeah? My sweet girl needs her pussy slapped?”

“Uh huh,” you lean back, palms pressed against the tops of his knees to put your slick covered cunt on display right in front of him, “really wanna feel it.”

He groans, gaze flicking down to your twitching clit before dragging back up your body to your needy face.

“Can you stay like that until daddy’s finished?”

You nod your head so fast you're surprised your neck doesn’t hurt.

“Good girl,” he says before bringing the flat of his fingers down onto the hood of your clit.

“Oh god,” you keen, thighs jumping as Leon spanks your clit hard and fast.

Using his other hand, he spreads your pussy lips open so he can spank down on your cunt. After a couple of slaps, each spank of his palm onto your drippy pussy sounds wet and dirty as your hole gushes slick down your ass to drip onto the bed.

“Daddy’s so lucky to have a girl like you, isn’t he, baby?” Leon smirks up at your panting form, “listen to how much your pussy’s missed me.”

“Need you so bad,” you gasp brokenly, humping forward every time Leon slaps your pussy, “please, daddy, want you so much.”

Giving one last rough smack on your clit, he uses his already damp palm to cup your soaked mound.

“I think she’s wet enough that you can sit this sweet pussy down onto my cock,” he smiles, a smug little curve of his mouth that makes your cunt throb, “c’mon, now.”

Nodding, you shakily raise back up into his lap and kneel above his thick length as he drags the head through your wet folds. Pressing the tip into your hole, you both moan as you slowly work his dick deeper and deeper into your clenching heat.

Once he’s balls deep inside you, it makes your pussy clamp down on his fat cock like a vice.

“Baby, you’re going to make me cum,” he grunts in your ear, hands moving up to cup your breasts.

“Not yet, please,” you mewl, “can I sit here just like this?”

Leon groans low in his throat, “Yes, cockwarm me in that tight little pussy. Bet she’s missed daddy’s cock stuffed into her hole, huh?”

You nod quickly, “Missed you so much, ‘m all stretched out.”

He presses his thumb on the hood of your clit and pulls back, showing off the swollen and wet sensitive bundle of nerves. Lightly running his middle finger over your clit, he teases the pudgy bud until you grind down hard into his lap.

“So good, daddy,” you moan, nails digging into his twitching stomach muscles.

He uses his other hand to wrap around your waist, helping you grind your slick pussy onto his thick cock. You slowly pull yourself halfway up his thick length then let yourself drop down on his lap, whimpering as his drippy tip kisses your cervix.

“Don’t push yourself,” he rumbles low in his throat, dragging his fingers against the hood of your slippery clit as his dark eyes stare you down with an unidentifiable emotion.

“I won’t,” you promise softly as tears gather at your lash line, “want you to stretch me on your big cock, want to make you feel good, daddy. Wanna take care of you.”

“My sweet girl,” he soothes, lifting your hips and slowly sinking you back down onto his cock, walls fluttering until he’s buried deep inside of you.

You gasp trying to swallow air as he bullies in and out of your spasming pussy at a slow dragging pace.

“Let me take care of you for now,” he murmurs, eyes dropping down to the collar decorating your neck, “all you have to do is take it, sweetheart.”

“Oh, daddy ,” you moan, hands scratching across his abs, thighs spasming as they squeeze around his hips.

Leon groans and fucks up into your sopping wet cunt, making your breasts bounce with the force of his thrusts while your mouth gapes open as you draw in haggard breaths.

“My pretty perfect girl just needs daddy taking care of her, huh?” his grip on your hip becomes bruising as he teases your clit softly with the other before moving that hand up to tug on a hard nipple.

“Uh huh,” you squirm on his lap, clit throbbing for him to touch you again, “daddy takes such good care of me.”

He hums and keeps teasing your nipples before reaching up to loop a finger through the front of the collar, “You’re going to let me handle everything from now on.”

You nod jerkily, dislodging Leon’s hand from your collar making him drag his hand back down to your swollen clit. He surges up to messily lick past your lips, sucking on your tongue before filling your mouth with his own. Pulling away, he messily kisses down to your neck, teeth sinking into the skin above your collar making you whimper and rock down against him.

“Daddy, s’good,” you mewl wantonly, nails scratching along his pecs making him buck harder into you.

“I know,” he croons, making your cunt clench around his dick, “mmm, you and that cute pussy love the way daddy takes care of you.”

Whining, you bounce your ass faster, feeling dizzy with want at the low possessive tone coloring Leon’s voice.

He picks up the pace, cock thrusting up into you harderand harder , grinding against the spongy spot at the front of your cunt every time he slips inside. He moves the hand gripping your waist around to grasp the fat of your ass, helping you bounce on his dick. The other continues to rub your pudgy clit with soft barely there touches that drives your arousal higher.

“Leon,” you moan, pussy clenching down on his thick cock, eyes fluttering as the pleasure builds.

“Are you getting close, sweet girl?” he coos, “this pretty little pussy keeps getting tighter and tighter. Needed this so badly, didn’t she?”

“Yes, yes!” You moan, hips stuttering and messing up your rhythm, “daddy, please, ‘m so close!”

“I’ve got you,” he slips out of your soaked cunt and eases you down onto your back, the sheets warm against your skin from Leon’s imprint.

Spreading your thighs, he kneels between your legs and guides his fat dick back into your twitching hole. His eyes watch your pussy greedily suck his cock back in with every short thrust until his pelvis is flush against yours.

He grabs your legs and places them over his shoulders, letting him lower himself down, forearms boxing in your head. You gasp out a whimper as the new angle has Leon’s cock pressed up against your cervix. He waits a beat and you slowly relax your tense muscles as that sharp bite of pain transforms into pleasure.

“That’s my girl,” he kisses the apple of your cheeks before taking your lips in a sloppy spit filled kiss that makes your pussy clamp down on his cock, “daddy’s good girl.”

“‘m yours,” you choke on a gasp as he pulls out to bully his dick back into your warm wet cunt, “my pussy’s yours. All of me is yours.”

Leon’s hips rabbit into your squelching pussy as he groans at your, unknown to you, damning words.

“Say it again,” he growls down at you, hands squeezing your thighs as he keeps you pressed open for his hungry gaze.

“I belong to you. ‘M all yours, daddy,” you babble up at him, tears sticking to your lashes causing them to clump together, “you make me feel so good.”

“Perfect, fucking perfect,” he mutters before rocking his hips down, “going to take such good care of you, keep you safe, give you everything you ever need.”

“Jus’ need you,” you slur as his tip hammers against your g-spot sending sparks of pleasure buzzing through your body.

“Please, Leon— daddy ,” your nails score down his back making him grunt, “w’nna cum, want you to cum in me.”

“Fucking hell,” he groans, roughly flicking his thumb on your clit as he grinds into your pussy.

“Going to make you cum for me, baby,” he kisses you again, nipping your bottom lip, “daddy wants to feel you cream all over his cock.”

You shudder as he spanks the first two fingers of his hand down onto the hood of your clit.

“Oh, oh, god,” you toss your head back, body thrashing against the bed, “I’m gonna cum, daddy. You’re gonna make me cum .”

He bites your neck just as his fingers swipe your pudgy clit, tipping you over the edge and sending your hips arching off the bed as pleasure washes over your body. Your walls pulse and flutter around his cock making Leon groan and snap his hips into you harder.

“Feels so good — fuck ,” he groans, burying his cock deep inside your spasming cunt and cumming, hot jizz coating your walls.

His thrusts begin to stutter while he fills your used cunt with rope after rope of thick sticky cum. You feel his cock throb and kick inside your fluttering walls as your pussy keeps milking him for every last drop of cum. He grunts while he continues to finish inside of you.

“There’s so much,” you whisper, loving the feeling of being so full of Leon.

“I’ve been a little backed up, sweetheart,” he kisses you, all dirty and wet, while he finishes stuffing you to the brim.

You sigh when he slowly pulls out, Leon hissing at the sensation. He lays down next to you, pulling you into his arms as you both catch your breaths.

“Thank you,” you tilt your head up to kiss his jaw, “you waited for me and I appreciate it.”

His sea dark eyes watch you as his lips tic up into a little smile.

“Of course, sweetheart,” he kisses the top of your head.

You hum, pleased, and tangle your legs with his, “Can we have dinner later? I’m really tired now.”

“Mmhmm,” he runs his fingers down your back, muscles twitching as you relax even further against him.

It doesn’t take long for you to pass out, snuggled against Leon’s warm chest as he pets you softly.

═════ °• ♔ •° ═════

After you fall asleep, Leon slips away, tugging the blankets up around your naked shoulders before leaving the bedroom. He makes his way downstairs to his office and pulls out the burner phone hidden in a secret drawer of his desk.

He quickly dials a number and drums his fingers along the wood desktop as he waits. A familiar voice finally picks up.

“I’m calling you back,” Leon grins to himself, idly tracing his fingertips across his desk.

“Yeah, everything’s good here. This time next year I think I can talk her into selling the place and we’ll move south, somewhere with a beach I think.”

The voice chatters away on the other line making Leon laugh.

“You’re not wrong. I just can’t believe some complete stranger beat me to the punch,” he frowns down at his knuckles, “kind of wanted to take her out myself for the hell of it, but this way my hands are 100% clean. And it won’t look strange to keep my sweet stepdaughter in my care.”

His blue eyes dart to the closed door as he lets the other man on the line talk.

“Mmhmm. I was just checking in to see if everything’s been taken care of in regards to the father.”

He nods along, the grin blooming into a smirk, “Excellent. No, no need to get rid of him unless he proves to be an obstacle. Sounds like he’s making himself scarce without any prompting which is great.”

Chancing a quick glance to the clock on the wall, he stands up from his desk.

“Great work as usual. I’ll wire the money into the account tonight.”

He hangs up the phone and quickly disassembles it; he runs a magnet over each piece before dropping it all into a small bowl of water he kept off to the side earlier in the evening. Tomorrow, he’ll get rid of it completely but for now he’d rather rejoin you upstairs.

He lets himself daydream about your new life together as he double checks that everything is locked up tight before retiring for the night. Your mom’s death wasn’t planned, at least not in a sense, so it put a bit of a wrench into his plans. However, everything has worked out wonderfully in the long run. Your deadbeat dad is too busy with his own life to give you the time of day leaving Leon the one person you rely upon.

He’s been patiently waiting all of this time, letting you grieve and navigate the death of your mother without his interference, only to reap the benefits now. The way you’re reacting and behaving gives him complete confidence that he’ll be the only one in your life from now on; months from now, when he asks you to be his second wife far away from this place, he’s positive you’ll say yes.

Entering the bedroom, he takes in your sleeping form underneath the sheets and feels that same old hunger stir in his chest. He climbs back into bed and spoons your body from behind. Feeling his cock thicken against your ass, he slips his dick between your thighs, still damp from the activities earlier. Rutting slowly, he gently fucks your thighs as you sigh and squirm in your sleep.

Reaching around, his hands grope your breasts, fingers quickly tweaking and tugging on your puffy nipples.

“Daddy?” Your groggy voice just makes him harder and he rocks forward a little more roughly.

“Just needed to touch you,” he bites your neck and you clamp your thighs together making him groan.

“Inside,” you whine, “please.”

“Shhh,” he nips your ear, “let daddy have his fun.”

Shivering, you moan as Leon teases your nipples while he fucks his cock against your leaking pussy, plush thighs squeezing him just right. As much as he wants to slip right into your hot pussy, he likes making you beg for it.

It’s a slow back and forth as he plays with your tits and makes you soak his cock with slick before he teases the tip against your hole. He’ll never get tired of this, of having you so soft and malleable, all for his enjoyment.

“Oh, please, daddy, please,” you pant, hips pressing back against his, “need you to fuck me, need to feel you so bad.”

Smug satisfaction drips like honey down his spine as he slides the tip of his cock into your soaked hole. He hisses through clenched teeth as your cunt greedily sucks his cock further into your sticky wet walls. Once he bottoms out, he notices how much noise you’re making, cut off little whimpers and moans that has his cock kicking inside your snug cunt.

“ Thank you, thank you, thank you ,” you chant under your breath, bolstering his already inflated ego.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs against your ear, feeling you clamp down around his dick.

It’s almost too easy he thinks while he thrusts his cock in and out of your squelching pussy. It’s obvious to anyone that you were meant for him, meant for this. Gripping your hips tight enough to bruise, he picks up the pace, fucking into you so hard and fast that you can only gasp and whine.

Reaching around, his fingers circle your clit firmly until your pussy’s clenching rhythmically around his cock as you cum.

“There we go,” he whispers in your ear, “cum on my cock, squeeze daddy’s dick so he can fill you up again.”

He lets you ride it out for a moment before hammering his dick into your spasming pussy. It doesn’t take too long with the way your cunt’s milking his cock for him to spill hot and thick inside your needy pussy for the second time that night.

You sigh happily as he paints your pussy walls white with his sticky cum until it’s dripping out around his cock. Pulling out, he grunts to see globs of jizz ooze from your used pussy.

“My perfect girl,” he kisses the back of your head.

“Mmhmm,” you murmur sleepily, drifting off before he can even clean you up, “love you, Leon.”

His lips twitch up into a wicked grin, “Love you too, beautiful.”

Getting up out of bed, he heads to the en suite bathroom to grab a damp cloth. He returns and gently cleans you up, feeling nothing but pride as he takes in the collar still cinched around your neck. Tossing the washcloth into the hamper, he makes his way back to you. He pulls you into his chest, feeling elated when you snuggle up underneath his chin.

You press a soft feathery kiss against his pecs and hum before drifting into a deeper sleep. Running a hand down your back, a feeling of possessive ownership flares up in his chest. His fingers drift up to the collar, softly rubbing against the clasp. He’ll need to buy you an everyday one now, something that shows you’re all his. Maybe something with his initials. He’ll have to see how you react to the idea first. Dropping his hand to your shoulder, his pinky brushes against the collar and he feels his cock twitch against his thigh.

Deciding to let you sleep a little more before waking you up for a late dinner, he idly traces patterns against your bare skin. This is what it’s going to be like from now on he thinks with almost giddy anticipation. And regardless of what happens from here on out, he knows you’re his forever more.

#lipglossanon #lipglossmasterlist #dark stepdad!leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut #dark stepdad!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #dark stepdad!leon s kennedy smut #dark stepdad!leon s kennedy #fem!reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #stepcest #dldr #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut #au #dark stepdad!leon x fem!reader #dark stepdad!leon x fem!reader smut

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globalrebrand · 2 years

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I figured youre the best person to float this idea to: giving Vil a spa day and following up with a massage. Its nothing close to the finesse of a professional, but you can do something they cant. After rubbing his back and shoulders to ease some of his stress, he asks you to ride him. The past five hours youve been pampering him has got him feeling sleepy and affectionate. Maybe after you *slowly* get him off, no fast movements tonight, he would want to do some cockwarming. I imagine he would be very sweet and vulnerable, content to let you spoil him but also greedy for more. He will be clingy, pouting whenever you leave for something. And while he may want to be the one receiving praise tonight, he will absolutely return the favor another day

Warnings: fluff, not sfw, not proofread, fem-reader. (let me know if this needs to change!)

A/N: Vil is a hard dom, and you can't change my mind, so it might not be as soft as you wanted!

Private Massage: Vil x Fem!reader

When Vil built the massage room off of your master ensuite, you thought it was the height of excess. Of course, your husband worked tirelessly between acting, modeling, and managing his thriving beauty line, but an in-house room for massage? Frankly, you didn't understand why he couldn't just go to the spa. The chateau the two of you resided in was only thirty minutes from the city and some of the best spas in Twisted Wonderland.

But he insisted that it was a basic necessity of his routine care, so you didn't fight him on it. And in his defense, it got frequent use.

Every other Saturday, Vil's beloved masseuse, Helene, a well-muscled middle-aged woman with strong hands that were as soft as silk, massaged him for two hours. Never failing to relieve him of the week's stresses. It was an appointment as fastidiously kept as any date or arrangement he made with you.

For all the years she'd tended to him, you'd only known one occasion where she didn't meet the scheduled appointment, and that was when her beloved dog Gus needed to be rushed to the veterinarian after tearing his way into the gourmet chocolate gift basket Vil had sent her for her birthday.

But today makes the second occasion where the sacred appointment ritual has been broken.

And your husband wasn't taking it well.

Vil stood looking wistfully picturesque in his monogrammed quilted lilac silk robe as he stared longingly out of the french doors to the balcony of your master suite. A rather difficult task considering that snow had piled up outside nearly five feet overnight.

"Darling," you cooed, sneaking up behind him, the swishing sound of the silk of your matching (also monogrammed) robe rubbing against his startling from his gloomy reverie. Rising on your toes and placing a kiss and the sensitive patch of skin beneath his ear, you prepared to offer consolations.

"No one could make it in this blizzard, and to insist that Helene come would be barbaric."

"I know that." He snapped, to which you responded by drawing his face to yours to ensure he witnessed the reflexive and highly indignant raising of your eyebrows. Long ago, Vil learned that kind of curtness got him nowhere with you.

"I'm sorry, my love, it's just I was really looking forward to our appointment today. You know better than anyone how hard this past week has been on me."

It's true. Vil really had put himself through the gauntlet the past month. He just finished filming a slate of commercials and shooting print ads for a new line of designer sunglasses he was just hired to be the face of, on top of sitting through a host of meetings with potential investors for his cosmetic brand and even hosting the Fashion Awards in the capital of the Queendom or Roses just a few nights ago.

So after forcing himself through handfuls of business lunches, after parties, and after after parties. He was a ball of tension and exhaustion in reasonably dire need of a massage.

"Of course, I understand." You murmured into his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his waist and squeezing him in an attempt to soothe his tension when the perfect solution dawned on you. Craning your neck to whisper in your husband's ear, you offered a solution.

"What if I gave you a massage instead?"

His rejection was immediate.

"That's thoughtful little one, but let's be honest. There's about a 90% chance you fuck up my back, so badly no masseuse will be able to work out the knots." Vil cooed as he moved from the window and out of your embrace, leaving you to pout by the windows alone. But you weren't deterred. Even if you weren't the best masseuse in the country, you had your own ways of making your husband relax.

"Oh, well, that's a shame…" You sighed, turning the take up the mantle by the windows your husband previously occupied.

"Darling, I wasn't trying to be insensitive, but Helene is a masseuse with 40 years of experience." Vil was clearly exasperated, annoyed by your pout since obviously you weren't qualified to work on his back. Whether you were his spouse or not didn't matter. It was just his pragmatism.

"I couldn't even change your mind if I did it in that new white lingerie set?" You spoke softly, coquettishly, offering him only a demure and questioning glance.

Your question, paired with your coy expression, quickly delivered the results you were after.

The change in his attitude was instantaneous. For the first time all afternoon, he perked up and turned away from the exit of your shared room.

"The sheer dotted set? With the ouvert panties?" He questioned as if to confirm you were both on the same page regarding the set in question.

"Mmhmm." You nodded nonchalantly.

"With the garters and lacy thigh highs?" He asked, his expression now entirely focused on you. "That's a silly question. After all-"

"What would be the point without them?" You both intoned in unison.

"It was my birthday set, and I just got it, so I was saving it for a special occasion, but what better occasion could there be than blessing my beloved husband with my first foray into massage."

He raised an eyebrow as if to wordlessly say, 'you're laying it on a bit thick, but from his anticipatory posture, you could tell he'd bought your little act.

"Hmm, fine, but I'll be giving critiques on your technique."

"You wouldn't be the man I married if you didn't." You chirped as you pulled the set out of the drawer and dashed into the bathroom to prepare, running past your husband with girlish glee.

A scant half an hour later and the mood was set. Aromatic candles were lit, lightly perfuming the space.

You dressed in the aforementioned set, with heels and light jewelry that wouldn't get in the way of your work. A pair of white gold hoop earrings and a dainty matching chain with a small V and amethyst on it.

You were watching some videos of proper full body massage techniques when the door to the room slid open, and in walked your husband, freshly showered with a towel loosely affixed around his hips. "Now, this sight is far more enchanting than my normal appointment," Vil remarked, seeing your ass in the scandalous panties. Your lush curves were put on display for him as you leaned over the cupboard while you watched videos on your phone.

"Helene would be crushed to hear you say that." You teased, still transfixed on the videos before you.

"That set makes your ass look fantastic," Vil added, placing a hand on the exposed fat of your rear.

You swatted his hand away. Not wanting him to spoil the session by completely forgoing the massage.

That's not why we're here, you remind him. Turning around and plucking the headphones from your ears, you put your phone away so you can focus on the task at hand.

You pressed on your husband's shoulders, gently urging him onto the massage table.

"I'm not here to rile you. I'm here to relax you." You reminded him. "Well, if you think you can. Do your best, my love." That was generally the closest to encouragement that Vil came, but you knew better than to take him at his word. He was obviously excited if the bulge of his half-hard cock beneath his towel was any indicator.

"Don't worry, I will. The channel drmasseur on spelltube taught me everything I need to know."

"On second thought-"

"Shhh..stop! Lay down. Don't be mean. I was only teasing." You chided. "On your front."

Begrudgingly, your husband obeyed.

Warming the basil and lemongrass lotion in your hands, you started with long strokes from his ankle to his knees, testing the amount of pressure.

"You can go a bit harder, my love."

Wordlessly you obeyed, applying more pressure again his long sinews and working into a comfortable rhythm. It wasn't as difficult as you thought it would be. After all, you were likely tied with his masseuse in knowledge of all of his sensitive areas, though your knowledge was of a much more explicit nature. After spending ample on his calf, you moved to do the same motion on his thigh, eliciting a groan as you pressed your thumbs into the back of his muscles.

"You're not as bad as I would've thought," Vil noted and slightly impressed air to his voice. He was quick to add-

"Nowhere near as good as Helene, might I add, but this has been pleasurable."

"And I do so seek to please you, husband." You whispered sultrily.

Vil hummed contentedly at your words and fell back into silence.

The better part of an hour passed, and you moved on from his legs to his arms, diligently repeating the same strokes as you did on his legs before and finally reaching his shoulders and back.

You were pleased with how well this little experiment was going. Vil seemed reasonably relaxed.

He threw out a critique here and there, but for the most part, he seemed content with your work.

Climbing on the table, you straddled his pert and bare upturned ass to get better leverage as you worked on his back.

"I know drmasseur didn't instruct you to do this."

"Perhaps not in his normal videos, but I was watching one to teach the art of erotic massage." You whispered in his ear before pressing a dramatic kiss to his temple.

Settling your weight fully on his rear, you both gasped as the wetness that had seeped through the opening of your panties made itself apparent through the skin-to-skin contact.

Your husband groaned but otherwise said nothing.

You quickly got into a deliberate routine, working on his lower back and subtly grinding against him with each fluid stroke of your hands in an attempt to soothe a bit of your own arousal. It shouldn't have come as a surprise just how quickly grinding your clit against your husband's skin.

But midway through your work, your husband stopped you.

"It's time for you to work on my front."

“But I haven't even gotten to-.”

He tapped your thigh to urge you off of him and then turned on his back, revealing the massive erection he was sporting.

Before you could even speak, he lifted a finger to silence you.

"I presume you know what you need to do."

"Of course, my love." You cooed, pressing a gentle kiss against his lips. But Vil was apparently much more desperate than he let on as he was quick to rake his fingers through your hair to deepen the kiss. His tongue sensuously probing for yours. He releases you, panting slightly, and quickly offers his following command.

"Get to work."

Wait- He stops you before you can climb atop the massage table.

He brings a hand to your sex, testing your wetness with lithe fingers.

"Sevens, you're so shameless. You're more than wet enough to take me." He remarks, a certain pride to his words.

"How could I not when my husband is so beautiful." You always give Vil the validation he wants. The way it makes him preen and stand even straighter never fails to put a smile on your face.

Vil offers a hand to help stabilize you as you straddle him, your knees pressing into the soft leather of the table's surface.

You waste no time lining yourself up and sinking down on his cock in a practiced motion. The both of you moan in harmony at the sensation despite having felt it hundreds (if not thousands of times before).

Your walls seize around his length instinctively as they flutter in an ever-desperate attempt to accommodate his girth.

"You're so beautiful, Vil." coos, affectionately stroking your cheek. You close your eyes, relishing in the softness of his touch. Your sessions with Vil were only on occasion this tender.

"I hate it when people ask you how you got so lucky. Those fools don't realize just how lucky I am to have you." Vil is addressing you with his sweet words, but you are far too lost in taking him to the base of his shaft with every cant of your hips. His cock was deliciously curved towards the most sensitive parts inside of you, and you always to your time when riding him.

"My precious little wife takes such good care of me." He smiles teasingly. His finger came up to toy with a nipple concealed by the mesh of the lingerie.

"Are you paying attention to me?? He begins to scold. Clearly, you looked a little too lost in your own pleasure and not nearly admiring enough of the praises he lavished on you.

"Of course, I agree, Vil. You are lucky to have me." You open your eyes just to catch his feigned, annoyed expression.

"Come here." He demands but doesn't actually wait for your compliance.

Vil pulls the sheer cups of your lingerie under your breasts to expose your pert nipples and tugs you forward by the band, quickly taking one hardened bud between his lips and sucking tenderly as you rock back against him.

His other hand snakes down your spine before settling between your cheeks to press against your ass. You hiss at the strangely pleasurable sensation. The gesture is a small hint of Vil's sadism peaking through a more tame lovemaking session.

And as much as it turned you on, the relative taboo of the touch always sent you hurdling to orgasm in a matter of seconds.

Tentatively you tried to rise up and shoo away his hand, not wanting things to end too soon, but Vil wasn't having it. Unlatching from where he nibbled and teased your breasts, he grabbed your hair and pulled you in for a steamy kiss, but still, you turned, only allowing his lips to brush your cheek.

"No, I don't want to come too fast," you whined, slowing your motions and trying to evade your husband's persistent fingers.

"My foolish love," he simpered, his soft expression and tone encouraging you to drop your defenses and lean into his embrace. "even when you're on top of me, I call the shots." He whispered into your ear.

"Now, grind your tight little ass against my fingers while you ride my cock, understood?"

"I wanted to come at the same time." You pouted, looking into his hazy purple eyes.

"Keep riding me like that, and we will, don't worry, little one. Even I have to admit you're too tempting for your own good." You realized early in your relationship that for someone like Vil, being in control and curating his experience was cathartic. He seldom wanted anyone else calling the shot. The uncertainty made him anxious.

With his compliment, you found a small burst of motivation. Soon you got lost in the sensation of his wet fingers tracing circles on your puckered hole as you clenched against his shaft. And you realized if you bucked your hips just so your clit scraped against his toned abdomen.

Once you felt yourself hurdling off the cliff to your orgasm, you pressed as deep against your husband, feeling his tip threatening to breech your womb. Vil threw his head back as he let out a heady moan, and you, quite satisfied with your work, collapsed on top of him once your walls finally calmed, your sex feeling numb and well pleasured.

If not to relieve him of the burden of your sweat body, then to clean your both. You could feel his cum threatening to leak from your pussy, but when you moved to get off him, Vil held you firmly in place by your thighs.

"No, my love, keep me warm." He begged softly. You were never one to deny him, so with a sigh, you nestled back on top of him, tucking your head under his chin.

You two stayed silent for a good while when suddenly, a cheeky idea struck you.

"While I have you here," you began, your voice lifting Vil from his contented quiet. "Would you mind filling out a short survey about my performance today? The feedback really helps."

Fine." Vil acquiesces, opting in to play your little game.

"Rate the massage on a scale of poor to exceptional."

"It was adequate."

"Ok, rude. What could have improved your experience."

"The masseuse could have been less of a cocktease."

You tap his shoulder in chastisement. "One, you loved it, and two, that was the point."

"Oh, alright, the masseuse's lack of experience was apparent. But she more than made up for her lack of massage skill in other areas."

"Anyway, next question. Rate the sex on a scale of poor to exceptional."

"Absolutely incandescently perfect," Vil whispered as he nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck.

"Thank you for your feedback." You replied, turning to plant a chaste kiss on his brow.

"And final question,"

"It better be." Vil sighed in exasperation.

"Would you recommend this service to friends and family?"

Vil immediately bristled, shooting up to a sitting position, causing you to let out a quiet hiss as he moved inside you, but he seemed less bothered and more intent on addressing your question.

"Absolutely not! First of all, gross. Second of all, you're all mine."

"I know, I know, I'm just teasing. I never get tired of hearing you say it."

"Now say it back." He demanded petulantly.

"I'm all yours Vil Schoenheit."

"Good, I wouldn't have it any other way."

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