#patiently waiting for best boi to be animated

[neuvistar]

HONKAI STAR RAIL MEN AS FATHERS! pt one.

— featuring ┊jing yuan, blade, dan heng, gepard x fem!reader (all separate)

— warnings / content warnings ┊hsr men as fathers !! mostly fluff ! SPOILERS ON BLADE’S (?) PART, not proofread i think, you r married to them here, a little angst on blade’s but it’s nothing much, mentions of pregnancy, blade referred to as “ren”, them being absolute sweethearts </3 overall just fluff! | pt two. (luocha, luka, welt, sampo) pt three. (aventurine, dr ratio, argenti, boothill, sunday gallagher)

— a/n ┊oh my days i’m sooo obsessed w these, i love thinking abt them too like okayyy.. strong jing yuan + gepard best father believer !! I ALREADY MADE A SEPARATE TAG 4 THIS TOO SO I CAN RAMBLE ABT IT W MY PRECIOUS FOLLOWERS, ANONS N MOOTS !! </3 you could tell i had fun writing gepards (i rlly did)

best papa #1. jing yuan (DILF DILF DILF!)

- JING YUAN would be such an amazing father, it’s like it’s natural to him, he’s one of the sweetest n most supportive ones !! when he found out about your pregnancy he would spin you around in his arms, kissing the temple of your forehead whispering “i love you”s under his breath. hes such a dilf too jesus fuck

- JING YUAN would have three kids (jesus christ) two girls n one boy, HE WOULD BE SUCH A GOOD DAD N I KNOW IT! he’s so patient and gentle with you during your pregnancy, and he was even more patient n gentle w his own kids, he loves them very much. he would be willing to teach his children everything, he would help them with their swordsmanship skills and even help out with other things, he’s such a good papa it hurts, he’s so gentle with your children, he’s an absolute natural! it’s like he was meant to be a dad almost

- JING YUAN who would be protective over his kids but not too protective, he loves seeing them all free, especially when they were just little cute babies. his eldest daughter loved running around his office, tugging at his clothes and asking him to play with her.

“dadddd! play with me noww! brother and sister wants to play too, we’ve been waiting for ten minutes like you said, but it already passed!”

“not now, princess.” his lips melted into a soft grin, giving his daughter a small pat on the head. “how about this, how about you and your siblings accompany daddy while he works, ‘that sound good?”

- JING YUAN who tries his best to make his children happy, i bet he’s the type to sing small little lullabies for them to help them sleep, rocking his little son in his arms as he has his small little fingers around his. he’s great with animals as well, he would take his children to a little adventure one day and have them hold and feed the birds that are always around him, nibbling on their tiny hands as he guides them, helping them try and feed it.

“go on, try and feed him. he doesn’t bite, he’s not scary either right? dad’s here to protect you, remember?

- JING YUAN who would talk to his children when they were still in your womb, telling them stories about his life, his adventures and telling them how beautiful their mommy was. jing yuan would consider this as his daily routine, he loved talking to his little ones even before they were born!

“hey princess. daddy loves you so much, y’know that?”

“daddy is excited to meet you too sweetheart, yes he is. but try not to give your mother a hard time, okay?“

best papa #2. blade

- BLADE who never thought he’d ever become a dad because of the life he lives, so much regret and grief in his heart so therefore he would start off a bit rocky, he was a bit unsure and didn’t quite understand the aspects of being a father and that worried him so much. he was terrified of not fulfilling his duties and responsibilities as a father but you always reassured him that he’s doing the best he can and that’s what truly matters.

“ren honey, she can’t support the weight of her own head, you know?”

“.. she can’t?”

oh boy.. he had a lot to learn.

- BLADE would probably have one kid! HE WOULD HAVE A DAUGHTER IM CONFIRMING THAT RN. your little princess is almost bound to look like him! she’s like a mini version of blade as she has the same hair, same eyes, etc! aaa it’s so cute! he thinks so too, he just doesn’t have the balls to actually admit it. his little princess would think of her papa as the strongest person in the world! it’s adorable honestly, she wants to be just like him, big and strong!

- BLADE who would be extremely overprotective over his daughter, he would have a very soft spot for her too. he would give everything his all to secure her knowledge about the current life he was living right now as a stellaron hunter, he knew he wasn’t the best, but he was willing to change for you and his child. yet, it still worried him. it still worried him that maybe one day his daughter will eventually find out about his past and follow his exact footsteps, everyday he prays nothing like that happens, he wants her to do good, not bad. he doesn’t want her to fall in the same path he went before.

- BLADE who honestly didn’t expect to have a child himself, so when he was caught right handed carrying a small little child in his arms, kafka and silver wolf would doubt him at first, asking him if this was just another child he found in the middle of the streets, shocked to find out he was acc a father n he wasn’t messing w their heads again skull emoji

“that’s.. that’s your kid?!”

“yeah.”

“she looks just like you..”

“are you sure you aren’t messing with us? you actually had sex?!”

“.. could you have worded that a better way?”

- BLADE who would find comfort in his own family, making a promise to himself that he would absolutely devote his love to you and his little princess, he would do everything to protect you and her, even if it means risking his everything for the both of you. but yet.. he still thinks about how he’ll eventually watch you and his little princess die while he lives on, for eternity. he wants to bask in the presence of his beloveds for as long as he could, he would break the curse of his immortality if he could, just so he see his loved ones die, no.. not again. he can’t afford to see the two most important people of his life die, once again. but he knew, his fear would come true eventually.

best papa #3. dan heng

- DAN HENG is a SWEETHEART. tbh hes a a lil confused but he’s trying + he’s learning! he also never expected he would ever have a child of his own, he doubted his own abilities at first but he got the hang of it as it flows through, he’s an outstanding father too! he’s just a lil confused but he’s got the spirit

- DAN HENG would probably have multiple kids, about two! one girl and one boy. when his first child was born, he felt a wave of happiness and relief wash through his body as he was finally taking in one of the biggest responsibilities there is, he promised himself he would do his best for you and his kids, and he really kept his promise! he does try his best and tries his hardest to give them the utmost care and support, he loves his pretty wife and his kids sm and it shows

- DAN HENG would have good hearing! when his young ones were still little babies, he would usually be the first one to aid them whenever they wake up in the middle of the night crying, gently rocking them in his arms until they fall asleep in his arms, their small hands on his shirt. so cute <3

- DAN HENG who would help his kids fall asleep by sitting or laying by their side and watch them sleep, maybe he would hum a tone or two.. he just can’t comprehend the fact that he was the father of these kids, he treasures them sm and you notice it, he’s just so so sweet to you and your kids

“dan heng?” you would call, entering the room of your kids before seeing your husband laying on the edge of the bed, arm over the two young ones as a gentle grin forms on your face as you shut the door, god. you married the right man.

- DAN HENG who just wants the best for his kids, he would come off as too overprotective sometimes and it might look like he was angry but in reality he just wants the best for them and wants to keep them safe.

“i thought i told the both of you not to go there.”

“.. but daddy you didn’t say that! that’s no fair!”

dan heng crouched down to his daughter’s level, eyeing her and his son down. “daddy doesn’t want you both to get into trouble. plus, you could easily get hurt or stepped on from some big monster.”

“dan heng, stop scaring the kids.” you crossed your arms, before a tug on your shirt was made,

“no no mommy, it’s not scary! because we know that daddy is always gonna be there to save us!” dan heng grinned, pulling his two younglings in a tight hug. he really does hope he can fulfill that, he wants to be there for them after all.

best papa #4. gepard landau

- GEPARD is such a girl dad, he would have three little princesses! gepard is surprisingly a good dad, like i said he’s a such a girl dad he would cherish and love his princesses (including you <3) until the end of time, he’s such a good dad it makes my heart melt, he would probably ramble about the fact he has three daughters to serval, HES SOOO SWEET ABT IT TOO. “mhm mhm. i have three princesses in my household!” is what he would say, he loves his daughters smmm HES A GIRL DAD U CANNOT TRLL ME OTHERWISE. speaking of serval, she would be an amazing aunt i know it!

- GEPARD is such a loving and doting father! when his first daughter was born he probably thanked every star in the whole universe for this amazing gift that was brought upon him and you, HE LOVES YOU AND HIS DAUGHTERS SM BRO. he can be a bit overprotective and it might lead him to seem a bit controlling but he doesn’t mean to be or sound controlling in the first place, it’s only because he wants his daughters to be safe, he knows how bad the world can be and he doesn’t want anything to happen to them.

- GEPARD who is willing to style his daughters’ hair, honestly you wondered where he inherited his skills from since he’s such a natural at it! (he got it from serval) sometimes you’ll even see one of your daughters in cute little pigtails held up in cute little pink bows, it’s so adorable to you!

“who did your hair baby? it looks great today.”

“daddy did!” when she said that, gepard would probably be eavesdropping from the kitchen, a huge stupid smile on his face <3

- GEPARD who does his best to protect his wife and his children, sometimes you would tell stories to your kids about how amazing gepard really is, and how he’s the captain of the silvermane guards! i bet if they still had fears over little things like monsters under their beds etc your daughters would always go to gepard so he can “fight” the monsters off, gepard finds it so adorable how go to him whenever they’re scared, because he knows he can protect them from anything <3

- GEPARD probably has a daughter that looks up to him a lot, trying to follow in his footsteps. when his little daughter was little, she would sometimes sneak out from her room and sometimes catch him training, doing weird motions with his hands she didn’t quite get and copy him! she views gepard as “the strongest hero in the whole universe”

“daddy daddy! look look, it’s a drawing of me in your armour! one day i’ll be just like you, brave and strong!”

the blonde’s gaze softened, a low chuckle leaving his chest as he picked her up from the ground planting a quick kiss on her nose. “you’re already brave and strong, princess. you’re just as brave and strong as daddy is”

he’s such a girl dad ugh i love those men

#ᖭི༏ᖫྀ maryse’s diary ૮꒰˶˃̵ ^ ˂̵˵꒱ა #hsr : papas ! ♡ #jing yuan <33 #blade <33 #dan heng <33 #gepard <33 #gepard fluff #gepard x you #gepard x reader #blade x reader #blade fluff #hsr blade #blade x you #dan heng fluff #dan heng x you #hsr dan heng #dan heng x reader #jing yuan fluff #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #hsr jing yuan #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #GEPARD N JING YUAN BEST DADS

[drak3n]

VETERINARIAN!SATORU

CONTENT WARNINGS: fluff, angst, hurt & comfort, loss of a pet, poisoning, smut, breeding kink, talks of pregnancy and children, dad!gojo, this one’s kinda sad but it ends well i promise!!

sena’s note: i was torn between dentist or vet!gojo and then i was like… all animal-loving men can get it and so can gojo.

MINI-SERIES MASTERLIST

➩ VET!SATORU who had studied and graduated abroad, having finished his studies with excellent grades and a bright future ahead of him

➩ VET!SATORU who had a hell lot of patients, and who was aware that over half of them were pets owned by ladies yearning to see the attractive young doc in scrubs, which he couldn’t blame them for

➩ VET!SATORU who never rejected new patients even when his assistants complained multiple times about how overbooked the calendar always was, because to him, all that mattered was to nurse all furry little babies back to health

➩ VET!SATORU who was about to close the clinic one evening, his assistants all having left long ago, just to hear the sounds of faint footsteps rushing to approach the clinic

“please, please help him! i— he’s been poisoned, i couldn’t—”

your sobs were cut off by satoru immediately unlocking the door he had locked seconds ago, and he tenderly took the faint cocker spaniel from your shaking arms. he was barely breathing, and foaming at the mouth.

“miss, try to calm down,” he told you calmly, pointing at one of the chairs in the treatment room when he saw how distraught you were. he would love to cheer you up right now, but time was critical. very much so. “please sit down. i’ll do anything i can.”

you mumbled prayers under your breath as you watched satoru checking your baby’s vitals, injecting apomorphine intravenously to induce vomiting. but it was too late.

➩ VET!SATORU who spent the next few hours in the clinic, watching you break down over your best friend’s loss as you fondled and kissed him, unable to let go; who despite loving his profession so dearly, couldn’t help but loathe it at times like these

➩ VET!SATORU who felt incredibly guilty watching you leave with the unmoving body of your senior dog’s in your arms after you told him you’d be burying him in your parents’ house garden

➩ VET!SATORU who couldn’t really sleep after that, his mind occupied with the images of you desperately trying to save your pawed friend and who grieved the loss of a companion from your teenage years

➩ VET!SATORU who took in two puppies who had been left in a box in front of the clinic, both pretty shades of brown, one of which had the same slightly curled fur as the dog that had slipped from his fingers and he had failed to save

➩ VET!SATORU who walked into the clinic one morning, greeting all waiting patients and their owners enthusiastically, just to pause when he sighted you standing at the counter

➩ VET!SATORU who called you inside first and watched through shaded glasses as you handed him a bag, your eyes dampening when you stared at the table your dog had taken his last breath on

“i forgot to thank you for your services and how you tried everything to save him,” you said softly, voice wavering, “i will pay for it before leaving, i just wanted to give you this.” he swiftly shook his head no, hesitantly accepting the bag to take a look inside. it was a box of chocolates and a bag of dog treats.

“these were his favorites,” you pointed out, chuckling nostalgically, “used to gobble them up like there was no tomorrow. i figured that the other girls and boys who come here might want to try what my boy loved.”

➩ VET!SATORU who excused himself for a second and returned with two tiny pups in his arms who wagged their tails at the charming young man, watching the way your eyes lit up at both of them

“some vile person just abandoned them in front of the clinic. they resemble your baby, don’t you think? i was going to keep both because i never give any animal away, but if you—”

“yes, absolutely!”

you carefully accepted one of the pups, cooing softly when it yipped and snuggled into your touch. satoru just smiled when you then stared at the other pup, seeing the obvious resemblance between them.

“i wouldn’t want to seperate them, though.”

he fell in love with you at that very moment.

“this little, handsome buddy is welcome to come and visit his lovely sister anytime.” he was happy that he finally got to see you smile and laugh.

➩ VET!SATORU who knew that you were the one when he saw you tending to your new pup with the utmost care, always eager to learn more about how how to handle and raise a puppy correctly

➩ VET!SATORU who already had a little family with you, because was there anything more intimate and sweet than having pets together? — but who couldn’t help but wish to have children with you as well

➩ VET!SATORU who was thrilled to find out the feeling was mutual

“wha— you’re off the pill?”

satoru was in the middle of fucking into you skillfully when you confessed it to him. you whimpered at his sudden lack of movement, nodding bashfully. “i know this is not the right time, but—,” you babbled, taking his hand to guide it to your lower belly, “‘m ready, satoru.”

his mind wandered to you swollen with your beautiful kids, tits leaking with your nourishing, sweet milk and face gifted with a natural pregnancy glow — not that you needed it.

“cum inside, ‘toru,” you whined against the pretty veterinarian’s kisses in-between his hips snapping against yours, “make me a mommy. gimme all of it.”

there was no way in hell that satoru wasn’t going to knock you up after this. and put a pretty little ring on your finger, of course.

➩ VET!SATORU who knew he had all he wanted as he saw you walk into the clinic a year later to visit your husband with your tiny babygirl on your arm, a spitting image of her father, and your two former pups on a leash, now grown in size as they wagged their tails wildly upon seeing the tall man in scrubs

➩ VET!SATORU who wondered if you’d say yes to a second child…

#gojo smut #gojo x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader fluff #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk angst #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #vet!gojo #dad!gojo #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen fic #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru

[wileys-russo]

mrs williamson II l.williamson x reader

leah williamson supremecy always, all day every day

mrs williamson II l.williamson x reader

"-and now it's charlies turn for show and tell!" you clapped your hands together to gain your students attention, their chatter slowly ceasing as you sent them an appreciative smile for their quick listening.

a knock on the door however had their heads turning and your eyebrows raising in surprise as your wife stood there with a sheepish smile, clad in her training tracksuit with her hands shoved in her pockets.

"okay 4D, everyone turn our listening ears on nice and loud for charlie and i'll be right back! take it away my friend." you gave the boy an encouraging grin as he launched into an animated recount of how he had broken his arm over the weekend, waving his bright blue cast around as he did.

"hi?" you stepped outside of the classroom, sending the blonde a surprised smile. "hi gorgeous, sorry for the interruption i tried to just leave it with reception but they said to come find you here." leah smiled apologetically, the two of you pulling one another into a quick hug as she sweetly kissed your cheek.

"you left your house keys and i've got late training, double session. figured you'd want to be able to get back inside tonight!" the girl grinned as she pulled away and you sighed appreciatively, pecking her lips as she dropped the keys into your hand.

"miss just got a kiss! miss just got a kiss!" your head snapped sideways meeting the cheeky grin of several bored eight year olds gathered in the door frame. at your warning look they all scattered, hurrying back to their seats as leah chuckled.

"i see the stern teacher look works on other people than just your sister then?" leah grinned in amusement, referring to her teammate alessia who was your younger sister and the reason the two of you had even crossed paths years ago in the first place.

"hey you've got an arsenal hoodie on! do you like football? miss williamson can she please come in and talk about football?" a different students head popped around the door frame, shooting both you and your wife his best puppy dog eyes.

you glanced to leah who gave you a small shrug, murmuring she didn't have training for another hour. "i guess it's my turn for show and tell then!" you chuckled, grabbing leahs hand and leading her inside, twenty sets of eager eyes following your every move.

"alright boys and girls! listening ears on again please. this is leah, she's a professional footballer and as russel pointed out she plays for arsenal." you introduced your wife who leant against your desk, folding her arms over her chest and sending your students a warm smile and a wave.

"miss that's not just a footballer that's leah williamson, she's the england captain and my sister loves her! she has her shirt too." william, another student, piped up enthusiastically from the back as the room.

"miss williamson if you and leah have the same last name, are you sisters?" one of the girls asked curiously and leah hid a laugh behind a fake cough as you sent her a firm warning.

"no julie, leah is my wife. i took her last name when we got married!" you explained patiently, your students all ohhing in response and their was a brief pause of silence before the room absolutely erupted into chatter, the kids all shooting question after question at your wife.

"okay 4D we do not yell over the top of one another! we use our manners and we wait our turn and display our..." you trailed off expectantly, nodding your head suggestively to this weeks words written on the board behind you.

"patience!" your students echoed back causing a bright smile of pride to tug at your lips, leah noticing as her heart melted, always having had the largest soft spot for the obvious passion you had for teaching and your students.

"okay who has a question for leah? hands up, she'll call on you one by one." you instructed as at least half the room raised their hands eagerly, wiggling impatiently in their chairs as leah chuckled and began to point them out.

"leah do you love miss williamson?" "most of the time." leah smiled cheekily in response causing a few giggles to break out from the kids surrounding her.

"leah does miss williamson snore?" "oh yes, she sounds like a truck!" leah answered, mocking the noise as your cheeks flushed bright red and even more giggles met leahs ears, causing her grin to grow.

"leah what's your favourite thing about football?" "oh thats a hard one! but i think playing in a team and having lots of really supportive people around you on the pitch, the girls i play with at england and at arsenal are some of my very best friends." leah answered sincerely as you nudged your shoulder into hers with a soft smile.

a half hour later and you had to interrupt the game of two touch leah had got going on with your students using a crumpled up piece of paper, quietly reminding her that she had training and clapping out a pattern to gain the attention of the room, your kids clapping it back and settling somewhat.

"leah has to go to training now! but can we all please give her a big cheer and a thank you for spending her time speaking with us today?" you called out as your students echoed an enthusiastic thank you, a few of them rushing in to hug leah who tensed in surprise before her face softened and she ruffled their hair and pat at their backs before they went racing back to their desks at your request.

"everyone grab out your books please! quiet reading time until the lunch bell goes, i'll be right outside so i will hear if anyones chitter chattering, remember my listening ears are always on!" you warned tugging at your ears as leah smiled softly and your students giggled but did as you asked.

"thank you lee, they loved that." you stepped outside and walked leah a few feet away with a smile, wrapping your arms around her neck as hers snaked around your waist, the blonde pressing a tender kiss into your hair.

"i loved that. would you maybe want me to come back with some of the girls? run a little friendly game and do some easy drills?" your wife offered as you made a face of surprise.

"if you have time? they would actually go mental if you could." you agreed eagerly, your wife reassuring she was sure it would be fine but she would check with jonas this afternoon.

"maybe on a friday afternoon, i know you said they go stir crazy so close to the weekend." leah chuckled and you sighed, nodding in agreement at how hard fridays were to keep them all engaged.

"that would actually be perfect. but you better go baby, you'll be late and i don't fancy hearing you moan about all the extra laps you'll have to run if you are!" you teased, your blonde rolling her eyes and pinching playfully at your side for the comment, pecking your lips a few times.

"miss got another kiss! miss got another kiss!" "4D i told you my listening ears are on!"

~

"i'm home!" you heard the front door open and your wife call our tiredly, hearing her kit bag thump to the floor as her sliders squeaked across the floor, the girl making a brief stop in the kitchen to chug a glass of water.

"in here love!" you called back, curled up on the lounge with your laptop on your knees, lesson planning for the week ahead. "hello gorgeous." your wife sighed and you were quick to move your laptop to the side as leah collapsed tiredly on top of you.

"tough session?" you hummed, running your hands through her hair as she nodded, face pressed into your stomach. "my arms feel like they're going to fall off, my legs are like jelly, can we just sleep here on the lounge?" leah mumbled into your top as you let out a beat of laughter and she moved so her chin rested on your chest, looking up at you with a tired but loving smile.

"i think i have something to lift your spirits baby." you gently tapped at her to signal you were going to get up, the blonde rolling off of you as you stood, rummaging through your work bag.

"you made quite the impression!" you smiled softly, handing leah a stack of papers as your wife pulled herself into a sitting position and began to rifle through them, her face softening significantly as she did.

"they did these for me?" leah asked quietly, eyes scanning the brightly coloured drawings with a tender gaze and you hummed your confirmation, sitting back down beside her and stretching your legs across her lap.

"i was ordered they were to go straight to you from my bag as soon as i next saw you or else i would be in some serious trouble with the artists." you teased, leah flicking through them again with a beaming grin.

"thank you, that's made my day." leah grinned, carefully placing the stack of papers down on the coffee table and pawing at your hoodie, needily pulling your body properly on top of hers and burying her face in your neck.

"i love you, mrs williamson."

~

"okay my friends listening ears on please! settle down, settle down." you clapped and called out over the incredibly restless group of children who were bouncing from foot to foot, whispering excitedly to one another as the looked toward the small huddle of women stood behind you.

"now i know we are all very excited, but i need some calm and some quiet so we can meet our new friends!" you stood back a little and gestured for them to step forward, everyone gathered on the oval for the final hour left of the school day.

"now this is alessia, steph, caitlin, katie, lotte and we all already know leah." you introduced as each girl gave a wave and a grin to the group of children stood in front of them. "your wife!" one of the boys piped up with a cheeky grin and a giggle as you sighed but nodded, rewarded with a chorus of fake kissing noises.

"okay enough of that or we'll go back inside and do our timetables!" you warned as a hush instantly fell, smiling happily and stepping aside for leah to take the reigns.

"you look like miss williamson!" one of the girls pointed to alessia with a frown as your sister smiled. "that's because she's my little sister" you explained, again a round of ohh's coming from your students in response.

"her big little sister!" alessia smirked, the much taller girl patting your head mockingly causing the children to giggle, leah stepping in and beginning to speak.

"the bossiness isn't just reserved for your friends and family? those poor children." alessia tutted from beside you as leah explained the first training drill your class was going to do, using katie and lotte for a demonstration.

"alessia if you so much as utter one word that i find inappropriate or teach them anything they don't need to know about me, i promise on nonna i will tell gio exactly how his pool table got broken." you murmured quietly to the blonde stood beside you who shot you a filthy look at the threat but remained quiet, bumping her shoulder into you and walking off after lotte with her assigned group.

"leave her alone!" leah chuckled pressing a quick kiss to your cheek as you rolled your eyes. "you always take her side, you're supposed to be my wife! i am sick and tired of the two of you teaming up against me." you huffed with a shake of your head.

"i am technically her sister in law, i'm just being supportive!" leah teased, grabbing at your waist and stealing a kiss when no one was looking, whispering for you to stop being grumpy before jogging off to help katie.

despite that the afternoon went off without any real issues, your students as expected absolutely adoring the girls and an afternoon full of physical exercise and sunshine.

"miss williamson its your turn now!" one of the boys kicked the ball at you, all of them taking turns to shoot at goal as you shook your head. "this is meant to be fun for all of you not for me!" you kicked the ball back as your students all began to protest your decision.

"she's just scared she'll miss!" alessia teased from where she stood in goal beside lotte, cocking an eyebrow at you challengingly, leahs hand coming to rest on the small of your back from where she stood watching on beside you.

"you won't miss, we believe in you!" one of the girls shouted, half of your students all cheering you on as the others took your sisters side, joining in as she boo'd you.

"i think you have to now babe, you've riled them up again." leah chuckled quietly, rubbing your back comfortingly as you sighed, stepping forward toward the goal as the cheers got louder and lotte swiftly stepped out of goal, mumbling a good luck to her blonde best friend.

"come on, surely you've grown out of your two left feet by now!" your sister mocked, you having had the pleasure of growing up relentlessly teased by both her and your older brothers for your astounding lack of athletic ability.

"go on williamson, show her what you're made of!" katie encouraged with a grin, squatted down amongst the kids and starting a clap and chant of your name.

only spurred on further by the confident smile on alessia's smug face, countless memories of having footballs kicked at your head and being forced to stand in goal by your brothers, you placed down the ball and took a step back.

taking a step forward you connected with the ball as it sky rocketed and headed right for alessia's face, your sisters expression paling as she ducked and there was a swish as the ball smacked against the back of the net.

your students all screamed in delight right as the bell rang, and you yelled out over the top of them a big thank you for being so well behaved, wishing them all a safe and happy weekend.

you helped your wife to pack up the goals as half your students all raced off, eager to start their weekend whilst others hung around chatting to the girls. "i'd be watching your back if i was you love." leah grinned, nodding to a very unimpressed look plastered on your younger sisters face as she shot you a dirty glare.

"i know about far too many things she did behind our parents back for her to do anything, she's all bark and no bite." you chuckled, grabbing the cones and leading leah over to the sports shed where everything was stored.

you were caught off guard as your wife closed the door and promptly pressed you against it, wasting no time connecting her lips to yours, not having a chance to show you much affection all afternoon.

"you know i might have paid attention in school if teachers looked like you my girl." the blonde rasped into your ear with a cheeky grin, peppering butterly kisses down your jaw as you smacked at her shoulder.

"i didn't know you had a teacher and student fantasy darling?" you teased, your wife rolling her eyes and nipping at your neck as you warned her firmly about leaving marks, reminding you were still in your workplace.

"i married you for your mind and not just your stunning good looks, obviously." leah tutted, grinning as she sweetly pecked your lips a few times and pushed off of you, moving to open the door but frowning as it didn't budge. "it's old, it gets stuck sometimes!" you rolled your eyes, but frowning as you tried but also couldn't budge it.

though as you glanced out the window and locked eyes with a familiar mop of blonde hair and a smirk, your eyes narrowed. "open it! right now alessia." you ordered firmly, yelling so she could hear you as your sister only cupped a hand to her ear with a confused frown, mocking that she couldn't hear you as katie doubled over with laughter, stood beside her.

"russo." leah intervened, pushing you lightly out of the way as you opened your mouth to let your sister have it, your wife sending the younger girl a stern look who huffed, rolling her eyes and disappearing, the sound of movement indicating she'd removed whatever was blocking the door.

"you know in any other circumstances i'd have taken full advantage of being locked in a room with you mrs williamson." leah husked out in your ear, hands teasingly roaming your body beneath your polo as her lips pressed a tender kiss behind your ear.

"if you're trying to distract me from murdering alessia, it's not working." you huffed, your wife tugging you away from the door and once more holding you against it, pressing her lips to yours in a bruising kiss, removing the air from your lungs.

"better?" leah pulled away with a smug smile, pressing one more kiss to your lips as you nodded a little dazed and leah opened the door.

"alessia you better start running!"

leah rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest, stepping out of the sports shed and standing beside steph and katie with a shake of her head, watching as you chased after your sister.

that was her girl, and she loved you endlessly for it.

#woso #woso x reader #alessia russo #woso fanfics #woso imagine #engwnt #alessia russo x reader #woso blurbs #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader

[lovebugism]

forgive me for what is likely a basic ass request but... steve has a crush on eddie's best friend? smut optional but encouraged :) (love, j.d. aka mypoisonedvine)

✶ ┄ LOVE YOU, ON PURPOSE (i)

part one | part two

summary: steve harrington took extra care to avoid the local freaks of hawkins. having shared custody of a fourteen-year-old forced him into a bitter friendship with one, he's steadfast in his refusal to befriend the other. that is, until you start working at the groove beside family video. steve claims he only fell for you because you tripped him. (17k)

pairing: steve harrington / eddie's bff!reader

tags: strangers to friends to lovers, mutual pining, protective eddie, canon divergence TW swearing, bullying, some smooching, talks of insecurities, reader is doubtful of steve's intentions because steve used to be a dick &lt;3

a/n: this request has been sitting in my inbox for ages. ages, i tell you! i wrote the outline the day it was sent in and ended up turning the blurb request into a full on 30k+ word fic. i'm sorry for the wait j.d. (and to everyone else who's been waiting patiently for me to put this out). i quite literally put my heart, soul, pussy, and so, so many hours into this. please enjoy! feedback is always appreciated! xoxo

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Something happens and I'm head over heels.

It would be a total disservice to call you Eddie’s best friend.

It wouldn’t even feel right to call you his platonic soulmate or his sister from another dimension. Not when the two of you are essentially an extension of the same human being. It’s a twin flame on steroids — your mirrored souls make the rest of Hawkins believe in some sort of higher power. There’s no way it wasn’t destiny that placed the two of you together at exactly the right place, at exactly the right time.

Your entwined spirits could’ve been a beautiful thing.

It’s too bad you’re both total fucking freaks.

Unfortunately, being a couple of metalheads who spend their free time creating fantastical worlds in silly little board games hasn’t become cool yet — for some sad, strange reason. It leaves you and Eddie as the town’s token social pariahs. The kind of misfits you only spot when you care enough to look — laughing too loudly at the lunch table or sharing a cigarette in the alleyway between school buildings.

The kind of weirdos who get your attention without trying. The kind that people only look at when they need something to make fun of.

With that being said, everything Steve knew about you came from the people that hated you.

Tommy Hagan said that you and Eddie had been fucking since the seventh grade, that the two of you had gotten close between blowjobs and fingerbangs in the old chemistry classroom. No one’s quite sure where it came from, but they believed him without thinking twice. You and Eddie tried to squash the rumor for years before leaning into it full throttle.

“And these are the freaks,” Tommy announced when he approached your lunch table. He was giving Billy Hargrove a grand tour of the high school, or rather the shithole, and detoured like you and Eddie were some kind of sideshow attraction. Him and his goons ogled at you like zoo animals.

Steve idled some feet away, not as interested in the bit as the rest of them. He was even less interested in entertaining the new kid on the block thateveryone else seemed to be obsessed with.

“Hey, Tommy...” Eddie sing-songed through a mouthful of PB&J. You’d given him the other half of your sandwich, because you always give him the other half of your sandwich. “Hope you’re not comin’ back to ask for a handy again. I already turned you down, remember?”

A dumb grin took over the boy’s freckled face. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned over to the California boy. “I wouldn’t get too close to them. Don’t know where their hands have been, you know? If I had to guess, I think Punchy got Munson’s rocks off in the janitor’s closet before lunch period.”

Neither of you were particularly fazed by the laughter that erupted all at once and threatened to swallow you whole. Instead, you smiled with bits of grape jelly smeared on your chin. “I bet you think about it a lot, don’t you, Tommy?”

You really lived up to the nickname. Punchy. You weren’t entirely sure where it came from — your fierce temper, perhaps, or maybe your intense personality. Either way, it suited you.

Vicki Carmichael once said that you bit a guy on a date one time. Barry Jenkins, a tennis douchebag who thought the world revolved around him because his dad owned a string of local laundromats. He took you on a date in his mom’s Impala and assumed making out in the backseat gave him free rein to stick his hand up your skirt.

The asshole sported a red mark on his neck the next day.

When people asked you about it, you smiled with all your teeth in place of any real answer.

Carol Perkins loved to comment on the state of your wardrobe, telling anyone who would listen about the time she caught you rifling through the $1 bargain bins outside the thrift store. She liked to joke that you were stealing from them. “Because she can’t even afford a couple measly dollars. It’s kinda sad, honestly. I feel a little bad for her,” you overheard her saying once.

You were smoking a cigarette in the stall and watching through the crack of it while her and her friends touched up their lip gloss. 

“Wait, really?” Tina wondered, stopping mid-swipe of mascara through her long lashes to gape at the girl beside her. Because, god forbid, they don’t have someone to make fun of.

Carol snapped bright pink bubblegum between her teeth. She looked offended, almost — manicured brows furrowed and shiny lips snarled — like the idea of her taking pity on you was insulting. “No,” she snapped in response.

You’re pretty sure it’s the only rumor about you that’s got any bit of truth to it. Or any rumor of hers, really. The thrift store was great and all, but you firmly believe that your best pieces come remanufactured straight from Eddie Munson’s closet.

So it isn’t any wonder why the two of you seem to dress so similarly — all leather jackets and distressed jeans and hand-me-down t-shirts that are either too big or too small. The both of you take little care in your appearance, wearing only what you feel good in. And sometimes that means wild hair and baggy clothes that swallow you whole.

To make it worse, you and Eddie even talk the same. You’re both loud and brash and have very little awareness of personal space. You aren’t scared to make a scene or use your voice when you think it’s being stifled. And when you love someone, they know it, because you won’t leave them the hell alone.

These are all the things that Steve hated about Eddie. So he hasn’t quite figured out why he’s so damn in love with you. 

But he is. 

Quite dreadfully so. 

Head over heels and stumbling since the day he met you for a second time.

It was the spring of 1986 and The Groove had just opened up. Steve had heard murmurings of a record shop taking over the empty outlet adjacent to Family Video but had no idea it would nearly run them out of business. The shiny, new music store attracted all of their usual customers. People were more excited to buy new cassettes than rent movies they’d seen a thousand times already.

Steve didn’t mind, though. He liked it best when the store was empty. But all of his friends — a closeted lesbian, a basket case, and a couple of fourteen-year-olds — seemed to have the same affliction that was plaguing the rest of the town. 

He tried not to be offended when Robin said she was going to spend her break next door and not with him in the closet-sized break room. 

He failed.

Robin spent her half-hour and then some meeting you. She returned forty-five minutes later with a blushing face and a bleeding heart. Suddenly, there were two people in Steve’s life that couldn’t seem to shut up about you. As much as it annoyed him, he let her gush about you anyway, because that’s what best friends do, after all.

But Steve knew you once upon a time. Or he thought he did.

You were a loudmouthed metalhead who wore all black to blend in to Eddie’s shadow. You created fictional characters because it was easier than making friends with real people. You were strange and awkward and mean and gauche — the total opposite of this heavenly, mystical creature Robin was making you out to be.

But then it became this whole… thing.

With Robin and Eddie constantly talking over him about you, the rest of the kids were as confused as Steve was. And as they so often tend to do, the group decided to take matters into their own hands and make the short trek to meet you formally. Steve figured that their answer would be final. When those teenagers hate you, you know it. He learned that the hard way

They’re gone for a little over an hour and come back with a thousand stories and various tapes they say you gave to them for free.

Lucas has got a new Beastie Boys cassette and a proud smile on his face as he recounts the promise you’d made him about catching his next basketball game. “And she said she really liked my ranger,” he brags less than humbly, telling the older teens about how you’d heard stories about his track record in Hellfire campaigns. There’s a sudden suaveness to his voice as he bounces his brows up and down at them.

Max scrunches her face in disgust. She clutches a Kate Bush tape close to her chest, like it’s a prized possession she never wants to let go of. She rolls her eyes at her boyfriend (or maybe ex-boyfriend, but Steve can never keep up these days) and makes her own conversation with Robin. The two girls are the only ones with more than half a brain cell between them, or so they claim.

The redhead tells her that she plans on bringing her broken skateboard over to your store soon. She says the thing’s been wobbly for days, and Robin nods along like she knows all about it. “Well, apparently, she has some tools and knows how to fix it. Said the trucks just needed to be reinforced or some shit, I don’t know, I’m just glad it’s getting fixed.”

“Wait, why didn’t you tell me?” Steve asks her, confusion contorting his words along with his features. He crosses his arms and leans against the counter. “I could’ve fixed it.”

“You don’t know anything about skateboards,” Max monotones.

“Okay, but you don’t even know this girl! She’s a total stranger, Max. That’s dangerous.”

She rolls her eyes. “She’s nice, Steve. Way nicer than you—”

That makes him scoff.

“—And you’d know that if you got to know her.”

It’s Dustin’s turn to gush about you next. His opinion, for a reason Steve has never been able to place, arguably means the most to him. And the kid is just absolutely fucking beaming about you. He holds a Star Wars orchestral vinyl in his hand —  the brand new one he’s been talking about for weeks but couldn’t afford. 

He talks of the collection of DnD figurines you were painting behind the counter and the promise you made to make one for his bard come the next campaign. 

Dustin gazes at Steve, wide-eyed and nodding like he’s as amazed by the revelation as Steve is.  “She’s cool, Steve. Like… really cool.” 

The boy thought that Robin just had a crush, that Eddie was just being Eddie and overdramatizing all of his stories about you. But you’re everything they said you’d be and then some. The kind of stranger you meet that takes your breath away, that makes you sad in the understanding that you’ll never see them again. Dustin is grateful you don’t have to be a stranger anymore.

You sounded… nice. More than nice. They painted you out to be a fucking angel, the way you took care of a bunch of kids you barely knew for the better part of an hour. You weren’t the freak everyone made you out to be all that time ago.

They talk a great deal about your looks, too. Dustin, mostly. Lucas had received a glare and a half-hearted punch on the arm from Max when he said how pretty you were — even though she ultimately agreed with him. The curly-headed boy uses too big words to describe the renaissance painting you are, all heavenly morose and beautifully strange.

“Hey,” Eddie scolds from the sidelines, mostly playful. “That’s my sister you’re talking about. Bring it down a few notches, ‘kay?”

Steve is silent for the rest of the day after that. He’s not pouting about it like Robin keeps saying he is, just reserved in his reminiscence. 

He can’t tell if he’s intrigued or annoyed. They talk about you the way people used to talk about King Steve — with a borderline obsession for someone they don’t really know. And deep down, he knows he’s just jealous. Jealous that no one talks about him that way anymore. Jealous that none of the kids have ever talked about him that way.

It leaves him skeptical and wanting to see the real thing for himself.

Steve opts to meet you on his lunch break the next day with a tight chest and sweaty palms, like a part of him knew it was going to change the trajectory of his life for the foreseeable future.

The door dings with his arrival. The record store smells like earth and nostalgia, a bit like flipping through the pages of an old book. Vinyls sit in rows and in towers that rise to the ceilings. Colorful cassettes, of which there are thousands, have nooks and crannies of their own. Posters decorate the walls along with various patterned records — there’s hardly a blank spot in the entire store.

And when Steve sees you for the first time, he only sees the back of you.

You’re in all black, just like he imagined you’d be. A sliver of skin at your midriff is showing from where your too small shirt has ridden up your torso. And your hair is as wild as ever, though a little longer than he remembers. You’ve haphazardly pinned back the ornery strings with a sparkly pin, but it doesn’t do much to tame them.

A breeze of warm wistfulness washes over him at the sight of you. A reminder of a life that used to be his, that you were a part of only passively.

It’s your smile that does him in. Maybe because you’ve never looked at him with it. As far as Steve’s concerned, no one’s ever smiled at him the way you do, and you barely even know him. You hadn’t seen him in over a year and if you shared any words in the past, it wasn’t anything more than snarky one-liners. But here you are, looking at him with sunshine anyway.

“Hi,” you beam with the warmest grin he’s ever seen, swiveling in your chair to face him. “Welcome in.”

He’s too stunned by the sight of you to respond. He just stands in the doorway, all wide-eyed and gaping, like he’s the first to see an angel on earth. And it’s strange because you’re far from perfect. 

You’re blousy and a little disheveled, like you’d been running late that morning. The lack of makeup allows your imperfections to shine through in a way that makes you somehow more alluring. And you’ve got paint splattered like freckles on your cheeks, the culprit being the figurines you’re painting behind the counter. If you know you’re dotted with shades of red, blue, and green, you don’t show it.

“Can I help you find anything?” you ask him, still kind even though he’s acting like a fucking weirdo. That’s supposed to be your thing, not his.

Steve grasps for something to say but comes up short. His lips part and then close again in an embarrassing pattern that resembles a fish out of water. It makes sense, though; it’s a bit how you’ve made him feel just now.

When he realizes he can’t make out anything intelligible, he shakes his head. “Uh… nope.”

He’s leaving before he even realizes he’s leaving. The door dings again and he’s on the other side of it, long legs carrying him the short distance to Family Video at record speed. 

He swings and slams the egress shut in quick succession, as though the ghost of you had been chasing him. He leans against the glass pane and exhales a heaving sigh, eyes squeezing shut as he recoils at what he’d just done.

He always knew that King Steve had died some time ago, but this was a new low.

Robin watches from the front counter with wide eyes. “…Did you forget something?”

Steve sighs a big, hopeless sigh, then peeks his eyes open. “My dignity.”

“She’s cute, right?” she asks, already knowing the answer. Her brows bounce in time with the smirk on her painted lips.

“Yeah, she’s cute,” he answers, all mad because it’s obvious. “She’s fucking— she’s beautiful.”

“Aw. Look at you,” she sing-songs and tilts her head to her shoulder. “I think your heart grew three sizes today, Stevie.”

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

I never find out 'til I'm head over heels.

Steve, all caught up in his boyish misery, has no idea that he’s enraptured you in a similar way.

You hadn’t cared very much for the guy in high school. You didn’t really know him then, and you didn’t particularly want to. King Steve was rich. King Steve was pretty — too pretty. King Steve got attention from pretty cheerleaders and overaggressive douchebags alike.

King Steve didn’t need any affection from the local freakshow.

But, by some strange turn of events, he’d managed to make nice with your best friend. 

The way Eddie talks about Steve, his words always dripping with a distant venom, it sounds like they still hate each other. Maybe they do. Or maybe he just doesn’t want to admit that they hang out far too often not to be friends.

If you were still in school, you probably would’ve judged him for it. Being friends with the boy whose buddies made your life hell certainly warranted some degree of ridicule. But now, having graduated and trying to move on from it all, you can’t find it in yourself to. 

High school might as well have been a lifetime now. There’s no use in holding onto old ghosts.

If Eddie could let that shit go, so could you.

He drops by after school to keep you company like he always does when he doesn’t have a campaign to prep for. It’s his favorite pastime, perhaps a close second to Dungeons and Dragons. He gets to hang out with his best friend and swim in an ocean of music while he does it. As far as freaks go, Eddie Munson considers himself the luckiest.

He likes to hear you talk about everything new you’ve gotten in while he rifles through the old stuff that isn’t selling as well. You happily let him take what he wants for free. And what he doesn’t take, he doesn’t pay for either, because you cheat the system with your employee discount and then wipe the record from inventory. Just to be safe.

“I love having a criminal for a best friend,” he jokes every time, without fail.

Eddie stays by your side until the sun sets. He parts only to flip the sign at the door to closingfor you, then plops himself back on the counter again. His legs hang off the side of it, sneakers occasionally thudding against the wood when he kicks them back and forth too hard. He scans the back of an old Lynyrd Skynyrd vinyl and bobs his head to the rhythmic bass as the song fills the empty store. He’ll take this one home, he decides.

You keep on painting like you have been all day, breaking only to assist customers or stretch your aching spine. The forest dragon had been far more work than you expected — made of pretty purple leaves instead of scales and blowing blush-colored flowers instead of fire. The little piece of clay has resulted in a day of back-breaking work. 

You’ll be damned if Eddie’s next campaign isn’t the most stellar looking one yet.

Focusing on that makes it easier not to bring up Steve. 

You want to. You just don’t know how. 

Eddie’s friends were Eddie’s, and you don’t get involved where it doesn’t concern you. Besides, you did sort of give him shit for hanging out with The Hair way back when. The last thing you want is him taking the piss out of you about it.  

You don’t want to sound like you care too much. Even more, you don’t want it to be obvious that you’ve been thinking about the boy all day — making yourself sick as you stew in what could’ve run him out like he did.

“Saw your friend today,” you remark, feigning a sort of absentmindedness, as you swipe your brush along the petals of your dragon. “King Steve.”

“Oh, you met him?” Eddie wonders, more intrigued by your words than you expected he’d be. He says it like you didn’t already know the guy — like this new Steve was a totally different person you needed to be reacquainted with to really know.

“I wouldn’t say met him exactly. He just, like, popped in for half a second and ran out.”

With your back facing him, you don’t see the shit-eating grin that pulls at the corners of his mouth. 

Eddie was waiting for Steve to crack and finally see you. He knew he’d bite after the way the kids had talked about you — Dustin, especially. Because even though he claims he doesn’t have favorites, he’s got a very obvious soft spot for the boy. And he knew Steve would like you because everyone likes you. When they’re not clouded by judgment and high school hierarchies, at least. 

He’s still got no idea how a guy that trips all over himself at the sight of a pretty girl could’ve ruled Hawkins once upon a time.

“Fucking idiot,” Eddie laughs to himself, already gearing up for the shit he was going to give Steve the next time he saw him. 

But you see the boy before Eddie does. Steve comes back the next day, an hour or more after opening, less frazzled than the day before. The nearly twenty-four hours he had to prepare himself for the angel he was going to see allowed him not to make a total fool of himself when he stepped into the store again.

And you wouldn’t say it out loud — hell, it’s not even something you want to admit to yourself — but you’d been hoping he’d stop by again. 

You thought Robin would come by and drag him with her, or that Dustin and his friends would come around before Steve dropped them all home. Frankly, you didn’t really care what brought him back. You just wanted to see him again.

Steve’s different than the boy he used to be. Enough that it was obvious from a measly thirty-second interaction. He used to be a charmer who could talk his way out of anything. Not to you, of course, he wouldn’t have been caught dead talking to you. But then he stops by out of nowhere, in rare form, stumbling all over himself and looking like he didn’t recognize you at all.

You’re still trying to figure out if that was a good thing or not.

He’s mystified you in a way he probably isn’t used to. Most girls like the hair and the arms — the super buff, super strong arms that fit so nicely in his uniform — or the fact that he’s got money and a reputation that precedes him. But you’ve never given a shit about any of that. 

You’re more enchanted by the way nothing could even begin to conceal the soft, shy boy that King Steve had apparently turned into.

The door chimes above his head when he enters. The scent of earthy nostalgia is already familiar to him — lavender, sage, and something deeper. Steve considers it progress when he plants himself a few feet away from the door this time. If he runs out again, he’ll have to make an embarrassingly longer escape.

You turn away from your nearly finished figurine to greet the new customer. The practiced smile unconsciously widens at the sight of him. “Hi!”

“Hey,” he smiles with a curt nod. He regrets the half-wave he gives you the second his hand shoots up.

“You gonna run off on me again?” you tease and swivel in your chair to face him completely.

You’re wearing a Hellfire shirt that’s just slightly too big for you. It probably belonged to Eddie before it belonged to you. And you wear a corset-looking thing over top of it, a sheer number with a lace embroidery and a ribbon that’s tied in a bow at your belly. It doesn’t cinch you in the slightest, though, more for decoration than practicality.

“No that was… I just—” Steve huffs out a laugh as he tries and fails to come up with an excuse. He figures anything is better than the truth — that he saw how pretty you were and his brain forgot how to work because he’s the lamest person on the planet. 

So he chucks a thumb over his shoulder and fibs. “I left something back at Family Video. Had to run back.”

“It’s okay. I was just teasing,” you assure. “Uh— Are you looking for anything specific?”

“No. Not really. Just… new records to add to my collection, you know?”

“Oh, you collect vinyls?”

He doesn’t realize that’s what he’s just said until you repeat the words back to him. 

He’s kind of just talking out of his ass and hoping something sticks. That line does, apparently, because you’re beaming at him instantly. He’s scared to say no because then you’ll stop smiling. And he can’t have that.

“Yep,” he answers with a nod. The stack of records collecting dust in his den has to count for something, right?

He can’t find it in himself to regret his little white lie when it has you lighting up like a christmas tree. 

You toss your paintbrush down when you rush from behind the counter to meet him. You seem to have forgotten that you’d just dipped the thing in purple paint. The thing splatters shades of lilac all over the limestone bench. And, in your haste, you nearly smack yourself with the leaden slab as you raise it to pass by.

Steve’s eyes widen when you narrowly dodge the weighty thing — then jumps, startled by the dense thwap that echoes through the small store when it slams back down again. He’s almost worried that it might’ve busted the hinge. 

You cower at the loud sound but move on with a commendable finesse, too focused on him to care about anything else.

“That’s so cool! I’ve always wanted to collect, but records are so expensive, it’s crazy,” you ramble as you walk up to him, totally unthinking in the way you grab his forearm and usher him to the back of the store. 

Your sheer black skirt swishes at your ankles as you walk. The dainty fabric is patterned with sparkly stars and crescent moons. He notices you wear a pair of dark shorts underneath for modesty. Steve tries his best not to stare at your ass. He almost succeeds.

“We actually just got in a couple of Dio records — The Holy Diver, you know, the one that just came out. I’m pretty sure there’s only, like, a couple thousand of these things in the whole world — which is totally fucking bonkers if you think about it,” you explain in one breath, laughing, before stopping abruptly in your tracks. Steve nearly runs into you when you turn around to face him. 

You laugh again, a sadder one, this time at yourself, as you bring your palm to your forehead. “Sorry. I don’t— I don’t even know if you like Dio. I mean, of course, you don’t, right? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… rambled like that.”

You’d just been so excited and Steve had just been so different that you forgot who you were talking to. Hawkins High Royalty, Prom King, Biggest Flirt and Life of the Party in the yearbook. 

As far as you’re concerned, Eddie Munson is your only friend. He’s the only person in the whole world you can be yourself around and never get self-conscious about any of it. 

But sometimes you have moments like this one with a total stranger. Moments where you lose yourself in the conversation and your own jumbled thoughts. Moments where you talk and talk and talk until something thumps you on the head and you realize how annoying you’re being. This time, it’s the musky smell of his cologne that knocks you back to Ms. Click’s history class. The crisp breeze of bitter nostalgia makes you shiver.

Steve can see the way you get so suddenly aware of yourself and how the cognizance of the moment makes you writhe. He tries to bat away the lingering insecurities with a smile. 

“Love ‘em,” he responds with a nod. He raises his brows and scoffs, grins and crosses his arms over his chest. “I mean, Dio? God, they’re like… top ten bands of all time, at least. Maybe even five.”

That isn’t totally true. He doesn’t know much about the band to have an opinion, but he’s pretty sure he might’ve said he hated them once. That was only because Eddie wouldn’t stop talking about them, though. Steve could learn to like them, if it means so much to you.

That’s exactly how he justifies spending $60 on four records. 

He tells himself that he’ll listen to them and think of you, that it’ll be a solid conversation starter the next time he sees you. 

You had a whole damn rack dedicated to all your favorite bands — “I put it together myself,” you’d bragged with a proud smile. S it’s a wonder Steve didn’t walk out with the entire damn store. Because you just kept on smiling and talking, so happy to have someone to care about what you had to say, and he ate up every second of it.

He’ll have to work overtime to keep his pockets from hurting, but it’ll be worth it. Because he’ll get to keep talking to you and indulging in all the things you seem to love more than life itself.

You’re still rambling as you ring him up. Steve notices you haven’t stopped yourself like you did before. His lack of dismissal has made you more comfortable, it seems. He likes that.

“I think we’re also gonna get a couple cases of Def Leppard cassettes tomorrow, which is super sick. I think I might have to start collecting, honestly. Tapes are whole lot cheaper than records, you know,” you tell him as you scan and bag all his vinyls. “And it’s also, like, a fucking stellar album. I don’t think I’ve stopped listening to Photograph since it came out.”

“Photograph. Right. Love that one,” Steve nods with a kind smile as he props his elbows on the counter. He doesn’t particularly care that he’s not entirely sure what you’re talking about, or that he’s never actually heard the song. He’s starting to realize you could talk for hours and he wouldn’t get bored.

“Oh, is that your favorite too? Eddie’s more of a Foolin’ kinda guy.”

Despite the fact that he’s never heard the song or this album in his life, he nods anyway. 

He sort of spent the first eighteen years of his life faking just about everything — it kind of came with being the King of Hawkins High. It’s a talent that hasn’t yet left him, it seems, lying through his teeth to impress people. It’s almost become a second nature to him.

“Foolin’s good, yeah, but I think Photograph is obviously better.”

“Obviously, right!” you exclaim with a sunshine-coated laugh. “That’s exactly what I told him! But he’s way too hard-headed to be wrong about anything, so…”

“Well, I’d like to put it on the record that I firmly agree with you,” Steve replies so smoothly that his tongue must be dripping with honey. It’s so easy for him to fall into King Steve mode — when he isn’t forgetting how to speak and running off, that is.

You’ve learned a lot Steve in the past half hour. He likes metal, but leans more toward rock. Particularly all the metal and rock that you like. He hasn’t once had a differing opinion than you, besides telling you he heard Eddie playing a Metallica song once that he didn’t particularly care for. The second you tell him it’s one of your favorites, he backtracks instantly, blaming the Munson boy for being too sloshed to play it properly.

And you don’t miss the way he’s looking at you just now either, with his chin toward his chest as he peers up at you with warm amber eyes. He’s the charmer that he always was. It makes you remember, again, just who you’re talking to.

“We have a lot in common, King Steve,” you lilt with a playful grin.

He deflates at the use of the old nickname. You see the light in his eyes flicker for a just moment before he’s ducking his gaze away from you completely. He tries to brush it off with a laugh. “Yeah, I’m not— I’m not really King Steve anymore…”

“No?”

“Nope. Just… Just Steve these days.”

When he looks back at you, he finds you nodding at him, almost in approval. 

Most people are upset to find that he’s changed so much. They hate that he’s no longer the recklessly stupid dumbass they used to get drunk with. 

Not you, though.

“Cool,” you mumble, smiling softly, as you hand him his bag and receipt.

“Uh, I’d love to, you know, come take a look at those tapes when you get ‘em in,” he says as he walks backward towards the door, finally making the brash offer he’s been thinking about this whole time. “Maybe I can bring lunch and we can—”

“Well, Hellfire’s been doing campaigns during lunch recently. And Gareth’s out sick, so I’ve been subbing for him, you know, so…” you interject awkwardly, shifting your weight on your feet. You hate to turn him down, but Eddie might just kill you if he has to get a substitute for the substitute.

“Oh…” he nods, softly puckering his plump pink lips that you can’t seem to stop staring at.

“But I don’t think they’re coming in until late, anyway,” you add quickly. “So, you can stop by at closing, if you want?”

“No, yeah, that’s cool. So cool,” he replies, a little more flustered than he’d been just moments before. He’s just happy that your rejection wasn’t a total refusal.

You try to bite back the wide grin threatening to take over your mouth. “Okay… I’ll catch you later, then, Just Steve.”

“See you,” he waves right before startling himself when he backs into the basket of clearance tapes sitting just beside the door. He barely catches the thing before it tips over completely. He flashes you a shaking smile afterward and finds you covering your mouth with your hand while you try not to laugh too loudly. 

He wishes you’d just went ahead and laughed at him. He wouldn’t have even cared that you were laughing at him, if it meant he got to see you smile.

And even though he’d just gotten done making the biggest fool of himself, he walks back to work feeling like the coolest man alive. There’s a foreign strut in his step that hadn’t been there before he saw you. It doesn’t leave him when he realizes he’s gone slightly over his break and that Keith is manning the counter in his absence.

The man mumbles a monotoned goodbye to the customer he’d just checked out.

She turns around and Steve realizes he recognizes this girl — Mindy or Mandy or maybe Monica — from Mr. Kaminsky’s class way back when. She did all of his homework for him before and after letting him fuck her on her twin-sized bed in her all pink room.  That’s when Steve was conquering girls like they were Mount Everest, way before Nancy, when King was a title he wore with pride. 

But he’s still so stuck in his head with thoughts of you that he doesn’t even see Mindy-Mandy-Monica or the flirtatious wave she throws his way.

“You’re ten minutes late,” Keith scolds, with his dead tone and his deader eyes.

Steve only shrugs, uncaring if it came out of his paycheck because — “I just got a date with the hottest woman on the planet,” he boasts with a puffed out chest and too smug smile.

It doesn’t lessen Keith’s anger, just diverts it. Because he knows exactly who he’s talking about. And so does Robin, as she pops her head out from behind the man from where she sits at the computer. “No way,” they chorus in disbelief at his words.

Steve nods. “Yes way.”

“Eddie’s gonna kill you,” Robin remarks with the shake of her head. 

He knows she’s right. He just doesn’t care. 

Eddie’s always been protective of you. Everyone knows that. But the two of them were friends now — or somewhat good-natured acquaintances, at the very least. He would’ve been mad about a year or more ago, if King Steve had decided to suddenly woo his best friend. 

But it’s different now. He’s different now. Eddie knows how much everything’s changed, it’s just a question of if he’s willing to rehash old wounds.

It’s a good thing Steve knows how to take a punch.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Don't take my heart, don't break my heart.

Steve finds you again the next day less happy than he’s gotten used to.

The record store is dim and the red sign at the entrance has been flipped to closed, but the door is left unlocked — for him. The warm scent is a distinct contrast to the frigid spring night, a cozy high hemp and lavender, but your absence is noticeable and terribly heavy. 

Steve lingers in the doorway, his shadow looming like a giant before him from the moonlight streaming in from outside. 

He calls for you in the emptiness.

“Uh… Punchy?”

He’s relieved when you answer. The “back here!” you shout to him is muffled and far away. He follows the sound of your voice, filled suddenly with a childlike consolation. 

The yellow fairy lights dangling over his head guide him through the aisles of cassettes and closer to you. Through a cluttered backroom, Steve finds you standing just outside an opened door — left ajar, for him.

The smile you flash when you see him is as dim as the closed-down store. It lacks all the sunshine you usually look at him with, shades of stormy gray rather than the usual yellows. 

A look of concern flashes across his features — furrowed brows and inquisitive twinkling eyes — as you take a drag from the lit cigarette caught between your pointer and middle finger. You muster your best grin, but it flickers like a shoddy radio signal. 

“Punchy, huh?” you tease.

Steve’s brows pinch together as confusion floods his features. It takes him a moment to realize what he’d said and the nickname he’d used — and he doesn’t want to be dramatic or anything, but he kinda wants to die. It’s embarrassing, he thinks, to hold on to an old high school monicker. And, fuck, if you hate it half as bad as he hates being called king, he deserves a slap to the face right about now.

You laugh instead of ball your first. He’s able to smile meekly in relief. “Oh. Shit. Sorry, I… I don’t think I even realized it came out.”

“No, it’s okay,” you assure when you see him getting all apologetic. “Eddie still calls me that all the time, so… Old habits die hard, I guess.”

Steve tries to move on, but it’s hard to when you’re so obviously gloomy. He hates how reserved you’ve gone in your quiet, not talking up a storm like you had been the last time he saw you. Now you’re just… a storm. It’s a little like sitting next to a rumbling rain cloud.

The rumbling rain cloud beside him takes a drag of her cigarette.

“You okay?” he asks and sounds like he really cares.

You didn’t think King Steve was capable of caring about anything other than his hair, but he looks down at you like he can feel every blue bolt of your doom and gloom. He makes you feel seen in the void of your sadness despite all the years you spent being invisible to him.

“Uh, yeah. It’s just the tapes. They didn’t come in,” you answer with a shrug. Smokes leaves your mouth and lingers in white clouds in the air. “So I’m a little bummed.”

“Oh…” is all Steve says and his pink mouth forms a too pretty ‘o’ shape that you can’t draw your gaze from.

The following silence makes you momentarily cautious. Insecurity runs cold over you because no sane person gets this about upset over a broken promise of a couple cassettes. It’s stupid, you know it is, but you were really looking forward to them. It’s like promising a kid the most metal present ever and then snatching it out of their bare hands.

Now, over the course of a couple hours, you’ve managed to convince yourself you won’t remember happiness until you get those stupid tapes.

“Sorry,” you apologize to him for a reason he can’t place. You shift your weight on your feet and peer at him from beneath your lashes. “I know you were looking forward to them, too.”

You extend your hand and offer him the cigarette between your fingers like it’s an olive branch. He takes it from you with a distant smile, then opts to laze against the brick wall like you are. He stays a respectful distance on the other side of the entryway. 

“It’s okay. They’ll come. If I’m being honest, you know, I was kinda more excited to see you.”

His admission is brazen and a tad bit brash, even for a certified ex-douchebag. It lacks all of the usual honey-coated flirtation that usually tints his tone when he’s talking to a pretty girl. Because he wasn’t trying to make you swoon — though he certainly wouldn’t have minded if you had. This wasn’t some romantic advance, just a proclamation of his own personal truth.

A flash of shock contorts your features. “Really?”

“Of course,” he answers, breathing out a laugh that exits along with the smoke in his lungs. “I love talking to you. You’re… You’re cool, you know? S— Super cool.”

His face screws up at his stuttering, and he shakes his head at how the words sound leaving his mouth. His cheeks glow cherry red beneath an orange street lamp. 

“Super cool, huh?” you repeat with a giggle that’s bright enough to illuminate the velvet night. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me that before.”

Steve scoffs when he passes the cigarette back to you. Because, lately, that’s all he’s been hearing about you. From Eddie, from Robin, from Dustin — every good thing a person could say about someone else, they all say about you. 

He’s starting to understand why.

Because you’re sweet. Like, pure sugar poured on the tip of his tongue kind of sweet. You’re bright like sunshine and soft like summer rain. You’re a shot of pure espresso for a boy who thought his life was at a dead end. He’s not entirely sure how he ever could’ve thought you were some deep, dark, devil-worshipping freak.

“I don’t believe that,” he dismisses with the shake of his head.

You breathe out a sharp exhale and a puff of nicotine-coated smoke. “I’ve been the town pariah since I was eleven, Steve. Everyone thinks I’m some kinda delinquent who’s in a cult because I play a dumb board game. So, no. No one’s ever thought I was cool before.”

“Still?” Steve wonders with a twisted face. “You graduated, like, a year ago. Are... Are people really still on your ass about that?”

“A little,” you answer with a shrug, trying your best not to look as affected by it all as you feel.

Steve feels his chest swell with the fiery urge to protect you. The same one he gets when Dustin tells him about the assholes at school that are bothering him. He wants to defend you from the same sort of assholes that he used to be. The impulse is borderline primal, rooted somewhere deep and far within himself, because god knows he’s got a terrible track record when it comes to winning fights.

“Shit, Punchy… I’m— I’m sorry.”

You sputter out a laugh at the apology, louder when you realize he’s using the nickname again.

He can’t relate to any of this. The trials and tribulations of being persona non grata everywhere you went were certainly lost on him. Steve might’ve lost his touch somewhere down the road, but he’ll always be crown royalty — the kind of guy you think fondly of when your wonderyears are long gone. But you? You’re lucky if people don’t cross to the other side of the street when they spot you coming.

Perhaps that’s why his words warm you so much. Because, despite all that, he’s trying to make you feel better anyway.

You give him a tender smile and a dwindling cigarette. 

“It’s okay. I mean, it’s whatever, you know? I think it’s because I still hang out with Eddie all the time. Like, people see us and remember what fucking freaks we used to be,” you say with a laugh, then start to ramble without thinking. “We saw Tommy Hagan at Melvald’s the other day, and he looked at us like we caused him severe PTSD or something, like, he looked terrified. I honestly felt a little bad.”

Steve smiles, wide-eyed, equal parts intrigued and unsettled by the reminiscent glimmer in your eye and the daunting giggle that spills from your lips.

“But I wouldn’t leave Eddie, you know?” you blurt, suddenly serious, like you’ve taken offense at the very thought. “Not even if it meant people stopped being so mean. ‘Cause I love him and everything… Even though he’s a pain in the ass.”

“Oh, he’s a total pain in the ass,” Steve agrees and flicks the butt of the cig between his fingers. “He loves you too, though. I can tell. The asshole never shuts up about you.”

“He talks about me?” you ask, voice fragile and pitched higher than normal.

Steve doesn’t like the way you say it. He hates how you look at him even more, with a scrunched up face and eyes that flicker with embers of shock. Like you don’t believe it, like you think yourself unworthy of it.

“You’re all he talks about,” the boy assures, feeling so suddenly brave and wanting to make you feel brave too. He hands the cigarette back to you. “I don’t blame him. If I were him, I’d never shut up about you either.”

The contorted look of confusion on your face untwists itself, and your features fall flat with disbelief. A smile pulls slow at your mouth. Your eyes glitter an orange gold beneath the streetlight. They flit over to the boy beside you just long enough to take the stick from him.

“Steve Harrington…” you lilt, almost scoldingly so.

It makes him smile. “What?”

“Stop flirting with me.”

“Well, that’s very presumptuous of you,” he retorts playfully. “Who’s to say I was flirting?”

“So you weren’t then?”

“Maybe a little,” he shrugs with a knowing, practiced smirk. “Can you blame me?”

You don’t seem impressed by his not-so-subtle attempt at flirting, and he isn’t at all used to that. The bravado and the puppy dog eyes are his one-two punch — any other time, he’d have a phone number tucked safely in his pocket by now. But you’re not biting.

“I’m so not your type,” you dismiss with the shake of your head.

“Yeah?” he challenges, shoving himself off the brick wall with his shoulder and making the short trek over to you. He plants himself next to you, leans with one sneaker crossed over the other, and smiles with a playful twinkle in his eye. “And what’s my type?”

“Nancy Wheeler,” you answer without missing a beat. “Pretty girls.”

“Well, I think you’re very pretty—”

“Not like her,” you interject with a foreign firmness that Steve hasn’t seen from you until now. You’re still smiling at him, though, still kind but looking like you don’t believe him. Like you think this must be some kind of sick joke that he’s taking too far.

You can entertain Steve. You like Steve. Mostly because he’s totally different from the douchebag you remember him being — the douchebag you were expecting him to be. 

You find that he’s terribly clumsy and not overtly good with words. He says dumb jokes that don’t come out right and smiles in relief when they make you laugh anyway. He’s soft like peach fuzz or a fluffy cloud, mushy like warm chocolatey gooey goodness, and not at all like you remember him.

But then he does this. He morphs into something else, changes shape right in front of you. He smiles at you with little of his dumbassery behind it — all smirks and faux longing gazes with the intent of making you swoon at his feet. He grins down at you and all you see is the teenage boy who would’ve never looked at you that way four years ago. Hell, not even one. 

It reminds you of who he is, who he used to be, and who you are now. 

You haven’t changed so much since high school. You’ve matured a little, sure, but there was never an asshole exterior that you felt the need to outgrow. You’re still loud at times, unaware and ignorant of the world around you. You still play lightsabers outside Eddie’s trailer in between lengthy Dungeons and Dragons campaigns. You still pretend like the lingering glares from all the people you used to know don’t bother you. 

They do, though. They always have.

You look at Steve and you see this butterfly — someone made of rainbow colors and mostly mature. He’s growing, and you’re stuck in the same cocoon you’ve been wrapped in since freshman year, still fumbling around and trying to figure out where you fit.

He’ll always be the pretty butterfly he always was, with his pretty little iridescent wings that catch the light and all the attention. He’ll feed off the applause he gets while you’re sitting on the sidelines. The girl who’s destined to stay bundled in her cocoon forever only hears all of his praise — never watches, never receives.

“You and I are completely different people, Steve Harrington,” you declare with a grin that tells him you’ve already made up your mind.

The boy doesn’t get it, though, why you seem so upset by the idea. Him and Robin were completely different people. Him and Dustin were, too. The two people he adored — tolerated — most in the entire world weren’t a single thing like him, and it was better that way.

You don’t seem to share a similar philosophy, though. You take a drag from your mostly gone cigarette and mourn what could have been; if only he had been the town freak or you had been born the pretty girl next door.

“That doesn’t have to be such a bad thing—”

He’s abruptly cut off by the sound of muffled rock music and the bright yellow headlights of Eddie Munson’s van. The two of you shield your eyes when he whips into the desolate parking lot and parks in front of you. The sudden intrusion feels like being blinding like the sun after you’ve found such comfort within each other in the dead of night.

The stifled Def Leppard song — or maybe Poison, Steve can never quite tell the difference — is brought to a sharp halt when the engine shuts off. The headlights dim. The metallic slam of the driver’s side door sounds so much louder in the darkness.

Eddie rounds the front of his van and eyes the two of you rather suspiciously. The boy inhales deeply, puffing out his chest and splaying his hands on his hips. “…What’s going on here?” he squints at you.

You give him a terribly manufactured sunshine smile and bat your lashes his way, like you’re pretending to be un-innocent. “Nothing…” you sing-song.

Eddie rolls his eyes at you, then turns his attention to Steve. They’re not really strangers anymore, but he still feels the need to treat him like an outsider anyway.

“Harrington,” he says in the place of any real greeting. “Don’t you have other shit to do? Like, I don’t know, a shift as the mannequin at the GAP or something?”

Steve can’t find it in himself to get self-conscious about his fitted-sweatshirt, khaki-slack combo when the insult comes from a guy in a decade-old leather jacket, unwashed t-shirt, and ripped jeans.

“Very funny,” the brunette monotones. 

“I’ll see you around, yeah?” you ask when you turn and walk backwards towards Eddie, like there’s a gravitational pull dragging you to him.

You say it to be polite mostly, but you’re hoping for an affirmative — a promise that you’ll have another night like this one, where he sees you just to be seeing you. Hell, you’ll even take a nod if that’s all he’ll give you. And when he does, he gives you a tiny smile that almost makes you trip over yourself.

Fuck, you think to yourself, like your brain is talking to your heart. We just agreed not to do that.

Before you get in the van, you walk by Eddie and bring your cigarette up to his mouth. You coax the stick between his lips with your pointer and middle finger, opting to let him take the last couple of hits because he never turns down a free smoke.

The passenger door shuts once you’re tucked into the seat of it. The sound it makes punctuates your absence. Steve feels all of its emptiness.

He eyes Eddie from the distance, immediately noticing the darkened skepticism dancing in his dark eyes. 

The boy’s always felt the need to protect you. When the entire town got spooked about stories of some satanic panic and started treating you like monsters, he wanted to shield you from the boogeyman everyone turned into. 

Steve wasn’t one of them, the bad men. But Eddie loves you and it’s made him doubtful.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Steve feels the need to say, as though he’d been caught with his pants down and not just sharing an innocent cigarette with a friend.

Eddie takes the final few puffs of it and exhales rather dramatically, lips pursing to blow it in his direction though it’s too far away to hit him. The boy throws the filter to the concrete and extinguishes the ashes with the toe of his dirty sneakers. 

He waits until the white smoke has fully dissipated to speak.

“Damn right, it isn’t.”

That’s all he says. He doesn’t even look at Steve when he says it, or when he rounds the van and hops into the driver’s seat next to you. Steve squints when the too bright headlights come alive again in time with the roaring engine and dated rock music. His tires screech when he speeds out of the back parking lot. 

The tin can he drives nearly tips over when he turns too sharply onto Main Street.

Steve doesn’t get a chance to get a good look at you before you’re gone completely. It makes him all boyishly upset, knowing the hours without you will be most agonizing, but the empty feeling is eclipsed by the warm relief of not getting clock cleaned by Eddie Munson.

Damn right, it isn’t. Four words. That’s all he gets. But they’re daunting and coated with a lingering foreboding that feels almost like a threat.

So, by all accounts, Steve probably should’ve known there was no way Munson was ever going to back down that easily.

Eddie comes back the next day, a thundering storm cloud of the boy he usually is, head wild with curly hair and a million thoughts. 

The door dings far too gently for such an aggressive arrival. Metal bangs against metal as the handle collides with the window pane. He stomps to the counter in several quick strides, dark eyes darting around the half-empty store — obviously searching for something.

Robin, manning the front counter, is entirely unable to be threatened by him. The all black, chunky metal rings, and crazy hair stopped being so intimidating when she found out you called him Eddie Spaghetti. Now, it’s all she can think about when she sees him. 

Even as he stands ahead of her, obviously upset, all she sees is a very cartoonishly angry Eddie Spaghetti, and it takes everything in her not to laugh.

“Where’s Steve?” the boy finally wonders when he realizes the boy’s not in the front.

“Uh, he’s in the back, I think. Why?”

Eddie doesn’t humor her with an answer. He just storms past the counter and makes a b-line for the break room.

Robin watches him over her shoulder. “You’re not supposed to go back there!” she half-heartedly shouts, but makes no further effort to stop him from doing so.

He finds Steve working beneath the dim yellow light of the back room. There’s a warmed-up container of leftovers on the small round table on one side of the room and a stack of unorganized tapes on the counter on the other. Steve multitasks between both and hums something summery under his breath — The Beach Boys, maybe.

He’s too distracted to notice Eddie’s abrupt appearance. It’s the subtle click of the shut door that gets his attention.

Steve’s confused at first. His head snaps over his shoulder like a ghost must’ve closed the door on him. He realizes that it’s just Eddie, and he’s so innocently relieved that it’s almost humorous, then confused all over again. His brows pinch together and through the chicken tender jutting out his check, he mumbles: “You’re not supposed to be back here—”

“Yeah, I got that part,” Eddie interrupts in a monotone.

He swallows. It’s as thick as the tension that settles between the two of them, made heavier by the lengthy silence. He crosses his arms over his chest, stands up a little straighter, and bares his neck when he lifts his chin. “I want you to leave her alone.”

Steve scoffs and chews through his mouthful. “Leave who alone?”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about,” Eddie squints with an unusual sort of seriousness. “I don’t want you messing around with her anymore, man. I’m, fucking— I’m so fucking serious right now.”

The clarification makes Steve laugh. He shakes his head and goes back to piling the myriad of tapes into organized stacks on the counter. “We were just talking, Eddie. I don’t need the lecture, okay?”

“We both know it’s never just talking with you.”

“What? Are you in love with her or something?” he retorts, trying to make a joke of it.

Eddie, for the first time in his life, isn’t amused. “Oh, god, get over yourself, dude. I know what kinda guy you are, alright? I’m not gonna let you hurt her.”

His words hit Steve like a pot of boiling water. It prickles his skin, leaving blisters and burning red blotches in its wake. He’s all but on fire with his anger, less offended by the accusation than by the person it comes from.

Steve and Eddie aren’t friends by any means. They’re just two guys with shared custody of a bunch of teenagers, bonded in their want to keep them all safe. But through their lighthearted animosity, is a sort of understanding: neither of them are the assholes the entire town claims them to be. Eddie isn’t apart of some satanic cult. Steve isn’t a douchebag that uses women as accessories. And that’s just a silent agreement they’ve both come to on their own terms. 

But now here they are, talking like it’s 1984 all over again and they’re strangers who hate each other’s guts.

“No. I’m not gonna hurt her. Because we’re just friends, Eddie.”

The boy just shakes his head. He scrunches his nose like he’s wincing, then laughs — a big, dramatic laugh that fills the tiny break room. He begins to pace, waving an accusatory ringed finger Steve’s way. “No, see… That’s the thing. I don’t think King Steve is capable of being ‘just friends’ with a pretty girl.”

Steve rolls his eyes with a heavy huff. He comes to the conclusion that Eddie’s just projecting and that there’s no use in arguing his case. He shoves a black VHS tape into its designated sleeve and slots it in with the rest of them, muttering under his breath, “I’m not King Steve anymore…”

“What?”

“I said, I’m not King Steve anymore!” he yells, a bit louder than he intended to.

He drives a tape onto the pile with an unexpected aggression. It hits the wall with a resounding thud. His arms flail wildly at his sides when he turns to face Eddie again. “God, you guys act like people can’t change! I’m not the asshole I used to be, alright? Jeez…”

Eddie exhales sharply through his nose in the place of any real reply. Deep down, he knows all that. He knows it’s all true because he would’ve never befriended him otherwise. Steve Harrington — the king, the rich kid, the douchebag — turned out to be a pretty damn good guy. 

And maybe if Eddie didn’t love you so much, he’d be able to wrap his head around all that.

But does. So he can’t.

He saw you two together the night before, sharing a cigarette behind The Groove — albeit a little too close for his liking — and suddenly, it was junior year all over again.

You’re stressed out about the ACT and college acceptance rates, none of your clothes quite fit you, and you’re trying out bold things with your makeup that don’t quite fit you either. You grin wildly up at Eddie through the vibrant lipstick smeared on your lips, laughing at his half-hearted attempt to cheer you up. 

And Steve is a senior, standing on the other side of the hallway — with his pretty clothes and prettier hair — and he lets all of his friends laugh at you. They make fun of your un-styled hair and the way your shirt makes your boobs look, and Steve doesn’t find any of it particularly funny but he lets them mock you anyway.

Eddie sees you together and forgets about the man Steve is now. All he sees is a boy who never stuck up for you, for either of you, who let his best friends make your lives hell because his reputation mattered more.

And it wasn’t like it was his job to defend you, because it wasn’t. Not really. It’s just that you would’ve done it for him, if the roles were reversed. Eddie, too. Neither of you would’ve let a lamb be led to the slaughter quite like that. It was the Hellfire motto, after all — to protect the little sheep from the creeping wolves.

That’s where the difference lies. It’s where the mistrust settles deep and where the root of all of Eddie’s worries lingers.

But Steve has done more to prove himself than Eddie likes to give him credit for. 

He takes care of a bunch of kids like it’s his job. He runs Robin to and from school most days out of the week, on time each morning — which, for a guy who showed up late every day for four years, was definitely saying something. He even comes to Eddie’s shows when he’s not too busy working the graveyard shift, never minding that he sticks out in his collared shirt and slacks — a pretty boy amidst a crowd of freaks.

Fuck. Steve Harrington was a pretty alright dude.

But you’re better than alright. You’re better than good. Better than perfect. 

If you got your heart broken, Eddie thinks he’d feel all of it times a thousand.

Steve’s been through his own kind of heartbreak, though. He’s slapped a bandaid over his own bleeding heart, and it’s made him soft. The good kind of soft — the kind where he sees a bug on its back and has to flip it over because it hurts too much to let it suffer. Eddie knows he’ll be that kind to you. Kinder, even.

“Yeah, you better hope so, Harrington,” the boy concludes with a slow nod of his wild head. He steals a chicken tender from the styrofoam box it sits in, like it’s some kind of power move, and waves it at him like a condemnatory point. “I hear you do anything — anything — to her… And your ass is grass.”

Eddie takes a hearty bite from the strip, then tosses it back into the container again. He spins on the ragged heel of his sneaker and stalks out of the break room, punctuating his absence with the slam of the door. The ancient thing gets lodged and doesn’t quite shut all the way, so he has to double back and shut it fully.

Steve is left dumbfounded, in more ways than one.

“…He just ate my chicken,” he mumbles to himself with a frown settled deep between his brows. But there’s a lingering tension in Eddie’s storming out — a tangible fog within his words that settles something heavy in the Family Video breakroom that doubles as storage. 

It feels almost like a blessing.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Won't escape my attention...

The more time you spend with Steve, the more confident you get. 

You visit him at work more often, caring less and less about bothering anybody when you realize they all wanted you there. You let yourself ramble in front of him, too, not stopping yourself nearly as often as you used to. Steve guesses you started to believe him somewhere around the millionth time he promised he liked hearing you talk.

You turn to glitter in his presence, becoming more unapologetically yourself and glowing with it — with all the things that used to make you insecure, things that King Steve would’ve made fun of you for some time ago. Everything you were scared made you too different, is why he liked you in the first place.

And Steve gets to watch it all play out right before his eyes. You inch slowly out of the protective shell you’ve built around yourself and bloom like springtime flowers. He’s grateful he gets to witness it, even more that you feel comfortable enough to do it all in front of him.

You’re hardly as timid as you usually are when you saunter into Family Video. Rather than tiptoeing in and apologizing for intruding, you burst through the front door with a beam and a high-pitched squeal. You’re as bright as every star in the galaxy combined; even dressed head-to-toe in black, you’re more blinding than the sun. 

Eddie’s leather jacket, either stolen or unenthusiastically lent from the boy himself, swallows your upper half. You wear a piece of Metallica merchandise beneath it. The thing is cut up to your ribcage. The jagged edges in the fabric, likely from a dull pair of kitchen scissors, tells him the chop was intentional.

A leather skirt clings effortlessly onto you, revealing the pudge of your stomach and the curves of your hips. The thing is donned with two spiked belts and several chains hanging loosely at your waist.

Steve is dozing at the counter with his chin propped on his first when you walk in. He’s half-asleep until he sees you. The shot of espresso that walks in makes him instantly forget how tired he is.

“Guess what?” you ask with wide, sparkling eyes as you skip to the counter with your hands behind your back.

Steve always hated that question. Usually, it came from Dustin or Robin — or, god forbid, both of them — followed by a “No, seriously. Guess.” It left him with no choice but to humor them until they ultimately caved and told him something he couldn’t have guessed in a million years.

He isn’t so annoyed now, though. In fact, he smiles. “What?” he replies.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, as though in a futile attempt to conceal the wide grin on your face, and take your hands from behind your back. You flash him the cassette tape you hold in the palm of them, a blue and yellow thing with the angled Def Leppard logo printed on the cover.

“No way!” Steve finds himself exclaiming like he’s the number one fan of the rock and roll band. He isn’t; never has been, really. But he is a fan of you. All of his excitement, all of his bright and shining smiles — they’re all for you.

“They came in last night— when I was off, of course— and I opened this morning and there was a whole damn tower of these tapes! I’m the one who does the tape towers, okay? Plus, I’ve been doggin’ my manager for weeks about the things, so I can’t believe they came in and no one told me, you know?”

Steve gets lost in your rambling right along with you, nodding because he never wants you to stop talking. His twinkling gaze follows you back and forth as you pace in front of the counter. You gesticulate wildly with your hands, nearly elbowing a customer when they get too close to the line of fire.

“And she was all like ‘I can’t control when they come in,’ And I was like ‘well, you can’t control when I come in either, I’ll be taking a long lunch now, thank you’—” you recount, albeit at a slightly louder volume that shocks anyone who doesn’t know you. People shoot you lingering side eyes from over the aisles.

Steve doesn’t care. He’s even happier that you don’t seem to either. You feel comfortable enough with him now to stop caring about the rest. When you stop yourself, you do it because you’ve said everything you need to say, not because you feel like you’ve annoyed him in some way. 

“Anyway,” you conclude with a sigh. “I wanted to run it to you personally because, besides Eddie, you’re the only person I know who cares as much as I do.”

You smile sweetly at him, peering at him through your lashes, so suddenly timid — no longer the boisterous girl lighting up the whole room. Steve notices that you do that a lot, go from loud and sunny to shy and glimmering. Eddie does it too, sometimes, but it’s not nearly as cute.

“My wallet’s in my locker,” he tells you when you hand him the tape. He cocks his thumb over his shoulder with his free hand. “Let me go grab it. I’ll be, like, two seconds—”

You reach over the counter and take him by the arm, wrapping chipped maroon nails around the crook of his elbow to keep him from straying too far. Shock coats his features at the suddenness of your touch and the way it makes him buzz.

You scoff. “Are you serious? I’m not gonna make you pay, you weirdo.”

“No?”

“Of course not! It’s a gift.”

“Well, gee, Punchy. Considered me flattered,” he concedes with a faltering smile.

You laugh at his half-hearted attempt to be charming.

He rests his crossed arms on the counter and leans over the top of it in an effort to be the slightest bit closer to you. He gazes up at you with honey eyes and raised brows and a big, dumb smile. “And, you know, flattery... it goes a long way with me.”

You arch an un-manicured brow at him. “Does it, now?”

“Yep. So much so, I’m willing to break a few rules and let you pick out a couple of movies. On the house.”

It’s dumb and it’s sweet and so terribly innocent. He wants to give you so much than that but he’s got about eighteen dollars to his name, so all he can do is offer you a few measly VHS tapes. It has you beaming like he just offered you the world.

“Steve Harrington,” you scold playfully. “I didn’t know you were so naughty.”

He falters. His resolve slips and, for no more than half a second, his brain forgets how to work. 

He’s not quite sure how you manage to do that to him all the damn time. You make his brain shortcircuit and his belly quiver and his vision swim. He’s known you for a while now, long enough that the lovesickness should’ve well worn off.

Steve’s worried that there’s no cure for you, that he’s in it for the long haul now — upset stomachs, heart palpitations, and all.

“Well, I’m full of surprises,” he shrugs and sways on his feet. “What’s your poison, Punchy? Molly Ringwald? Robert Downey Jr.? The John Hughes type?”

You can tell he’s joking. You squint over at him and rest your elbows on the counter top your face-to-face. 

The wintergreen mint on his breath makes your head swim. 

Your rouge-tined lips are so close he can taste them — he wants to, desperately so. 

You don’t miss the way his gaze flits to your mouth, lingering there for no longer than a blink.

“Try Night of the Living Dead,” you challenge. 

“That is so dreadfully on brand for you,” he manages to reply without much stuttering. He’s surprised he’s able to get any words out at all, with the way his heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest.

“I’m nothing if not predictable.”

Steve doesn’t respond as he leaves the counter to get what you asked for. Silence is easier than saying that you’re the most surprising thing he’s ever met in his life.

When he returns, he brings the entire film franchise with him. All three movies are stacked in his arms and he scans the backs of them, hoping Keith won’t notice that they’re being rented free of charge.

“Have you ever seen them?” you wonder.

He shakes his head. “No. I saw one of them at a drive-in a long time ago, but I wasn’t exactly paying attention, if you know what I mean—” he answers with a soft laugh, quick to cut himself off. It was supposed to be a dumb joke, but both of you know what he was insinuating and it makes everything awkward. 

Robin would’ve slapped him on the back of the head if she were around to hear it. 

He would’ve deserved it.

“Well, you missed out,” you scold, not quite meeting his gaze. “They’re actually pretty good.”

“I’ll try and watch ‘em sometime then.”

“Tonight?” you offer suddenly.

Steve furrows his brows. “…Huh?”

“I mean, like— I don’t know… I thought maybe we could watch them tonight,” you stammer with your eyes turned down toward the counter, where you draw invisible patterns onto the granite with the tip of your finger. “Like, together… if you want.”

Steve is momentarily speechless. He’s spent weeks plotting how he was going to ask you out. It would come to him in waves. He’d feel like he’d concocted the most perfect, foolproof plan right before realizing there was no way in hell he could ever go through with it — all in the same fleeting thought. 

But here you are, biting the bullet for the both of you. 

He’s grateful. He thinks he’s dreaming.

“That sounds…” Steve trails off with the mindless nod of his head. “Yeah. No. Totally. That sounds… really cool.”

A wide smile pulls at the edges of your lips. You purse your mouth to the side in attempts to conceal it. “Cool,” you murmur all cool-ly, like his affirmation isn’t heaven to your ears.

“Uh, not to sound like a total douchebag or whatever, but my dad— he’s got this theater room and everything, and my parents are almost never home,” Steve rambles as he puts all three movies into a paper bag. Then his eyes go wide and his face glows cherry red. “Not like that! I didn’t mean it like— That sounded really weird… I’m sorry—”

You giggle at him, at the way he can pretend to be so suave, and then reveal all the marshmallow fluff he tries to keep hidden a moment later. “It’s okay, Steve. I got what you meant.”

He writes his address on a yellow sticky note with the Family Video logo printed in green at the very top. His handwriting is boyish and sloppy, the sign of a boy who never did care much about school. Some letters are connected, others far apart; some written too big, while others are too small. You find it endearing, but Steve knows it’s just because his hand was shaking something fierce.

He leaves his number written at the very bottom. Just for good measure.

“No funny business, alright, Harrington?” you joke, waving a ringed finger at him as you walk backward out of the store, heading back to your own job.

Steve bites back a smile. Once upon a time, he was all funny business. No girl was ever going to invite King Steve over and not expect some heavy petting. And he wants so badly to kiss you — fuck, he wants to kiss you all the time — but the want to spend innocent time with you eclipses all of those boyish feelings.

He yearns to be close to you. Like magnets. Or a moon and the ocean’s tide.

“No funny business,” he promises.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

You keep your distance with a system of touch.

It isn’t until you arrive at the front gates of the Harrington home you realize you’ve never been in the suburbs of Hawkins before.

You grew up on the very outskirts of town, where there were more trees than people or houses. The block was half rundown already and horribly secluded. The only interesting thing about it was the winding trail through the woods that led to the anterior of Forest Hills trailer park.

That’s where you spent the bulk of your time, practically living with Eddie and Wayne in their one-bedroom trailer, until you felt guilty enough to go back home for a day or two. Your parents would inevitably remind you why you ran off in the first place, and then the cycle would start all over again.

It was all just far enough away from Hawkins that you could pretend like the town’s bullshit didn’t exist. The freak from the wrong side of the tracks didn’t belong on Maple Street or Fairview Road or Laurel Avenue. That was for people who could afford new shoes every school year, who could go clothes shopping and not feel guilty about cutting into their food money, who were set up with trust funds before they were even born.

But here you are now, on Fairview Road, seven o’clock sharp, and standing in front of the biggest house you’d ever seen. 

You ring the doorbell and flinch when it’s louder than expected. The chime is light and jaunty. You wonder if it’s been programmed for the change in season.

Steve answers no more than a couple seconds later. He swings both French doors open, arms spreading wide like the smile on his face.

He’s traded in his slacks for comfier jeans and his vest for a form-fitting sweatshirt he’s bunched at the elbows. You realize, then, that you’ve never seen him without the forest green Family Video jacket. It makes him look naked, almost, like a totally different person — no longer the dork who works a measly nine-to-five with his best friend and visits the freak next door on the off chance his manager won’t dock his pay for it.

The vest had humbled him to a certain extent. Now he just looks cool. Like the boy people would either praise or avoid like the plague, for fear of getting in King Steve’s path — just a little bit more mature looking now, with his chiseled jaw and scruffy chin.

It makes you feel a little stupid from where you stand on the porch ahead of him, wearing the same thing he’d seen you in earlier that day. He’s got no idea you spent the past couple of hours agonizing over what to wear. For the sake of not seeming crazy overzealous, you opted not to dress up. Now you’re scared he thinks you just didn’t care enough to.

But you do care. So goddamn much that’s it scary. 

You never had to worry about what you wore or what you looked like before you left the house, about what you had too much of and what you lacked. Now, it’s all you can think about.

If Steve notices anything at all, he doesn’t show it. He just keeps on smiling at you, too happy to see you to care about what you’re wearing. He’s just glad that you showed up.

Truth be told, he had a six-pack and Robin’s number on speed dial on the off chance you canceled on him. He was preparing himself to wallow in self-pity and spend the rest of the night ranting to his best friend about the bleeding heart he had for you. Because, as far as he was concerned, you were far too good to be true. 

You were beautiful and funny and kind and perfect. You treat him like you’ve known him for years, like he didn’t spend so many of them avoiding you in attempts to keep some measly title that didn’t mean shit. You were too perfect. Sometimes, Steve gets scared that he just made you up.

But whether you’re a dream come true or the real thing, you’re standing on his front porch anyway, with a smile and a bottle of grocery store wine. 

He saves the beer in his fridge and the wallowing for another day. 

Steve escorts you through his lavish living room and to the downstairs area that’s got a movie screen hanging on the walls and a couple of leather couches sitting in front of it. The coffee table in front of them holds a myriad of glass bowls — popcorn, various candies, and more popcorn.

“You planning on throwin’ a party down here, Harrington?” you tease with a soft chuckle, trying to conceal how your heart’s about to burst at the mere sight of it all.

“Well, I just— I didn’t know what you liked, and I didn’t— I wanted to make sure you had something to eat, you know,” the boy stammers out. He brings the palm of his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “So I just… I got… everything.”

“It’s a good thing a like everything then, huh?” you smile at him as you pluck a Red Vine from its dedicated bowl. You rip off an inch or two with your teeth and then talk as you chew: “I hope you’re prepared for all of this shit get eaten, Harrington. I can get quite ravenous.”

Steve nods to himself and tries not to smile too big. “Sounds entertaining… Maybe I’ll just watch you instead of the movie.”

It was supposed to be a joke. 

But then you settled down next to him on the couch, keeping a respectful distance but sharing the same fuzzy blanket, and he has to physically force himself to drag his gaze away from you. 

He was right about what he said before, you were far more entertaining than the black and white film projected ahead of him — grabbing handfuls of popcorn at a time and quoting the movie through the mouthful. 

It’s a tad bit barbaric, the faintest bit off-putting, and otherworldly levels of endearing. It leaves him virtually unable to take his eyes off of you. 

He didn’t think you could get more beautiful, but you keep on proving him wrong. 

He’s starting to realize he doesn’t know shit.

You’re slowly coming to the same understanding.

You’ve heard stories about Steve. Usually from gossiping cheerleaders standing in circles at their lockers or whispering in the back of a classroom. Doomed as the freak and all but banished from the inner society of Hawkins High, you became an observer. You were so invisible that people sometimes didn’t realize they were talking right over you, sharing secrets they wouldn’t want someone else to get a hold of. 

But apparently you were the exception. Because you weren’t a someone to them.

They talked about how kind he was, how well endowed, how they were meant to go on some stupid date but missed their reservation because Steve got a little too handsy beforehand, and how they spent the rest of the night with their hands shoved down each other’s pants at Lover’s Lake. 

You were seeing, firsthand, how much he’d changed. How he made his promise of no funny business and how he was sticking to it — no teasing you about the whole thing with a knowing smirk and flirtatious honey eyes, no urging to close this distance between you, no tiny touches on your arm or thigh in the hopes of heavier petting.

He spends the entirety of the first movie perfectly respectful. Just like you’d asked him to be. 

And it was nice, knowing that you weren’t wasting your evening with some asshole who was only spending time with you in the hopes of you putting out later. But it leaves you the faintest bit empty. Hungry. You long for his touch like a missed meal. Starving and feeling it all.

It’s not even heavy petting you want, you just want to feel him next to you — to press yourself into his side and to warm yourself with him like a blanket. 

But you weren’t a pretty cheerleader or a girl dripping in expensive clothes and daddy’s money. You were the weirdo, the freak, the loudmouth nerd, Punchy — all names you wore proudly, like lit-up signs or steel armor. 

Until now. 

Now you think if you weren’t Punchy, if were you someone different, then maybe he’d want to touch you more.

The first hour and thirty-seven minutes of your favorite movie are strangely agonizing. 

Your hands itch with the desire to touch the boy next to you, and they busy themselves with the bowls of candy and savory junk food splayed out on the table in front of you. It’s mindless more than it is anything. You’re absentminded binging does nothing more than half-distract you from the thoughts raging rivers in your skull.

You don’t even realize you’re doing it until your hand falls into an empty bowl of popcorn and finds nothing but kernels at the bottom of it. 

It makes Steve laugh, thinking you were just too into the movie to notice — having no idea it was him taking up all your brain power. 

He leaves to fix more snacks for you while you slip the second VHS into the movie player. He returns with a bowl of freshly popped popcorn and two beers after the wine bottle has been sufficiently emptied. When he plops down next to you again, it’s in the same spot he’d been sitting in all night — a couple of excruciating inches away.

Under the guise of sharing the popcorn in his lap, you make the too bold decision to slither in at his side. It’s innocent at first — your thighs just barely graze and your elbows bump when you dip your hands into the bowl. And it’s still innocent some thirty minutes later, when you find yourself resting your head on his shoulder with your legs curled up behind you.

Steve tenses when he feels your temple pressed against him, but only for a moment before he relaxes again. It makes him all suddenly warm and self-aware of every movement he makes. He tries not to breathe too heavy or shift too often, for fear it might jostle you too much. He doesn’t want to stop feeling you against him like this, even if it’s got his skin prickling with a searing form of anxiety.

“Don’t tell me you’re falling asleep,” he jokes.

“Of course not. It’s way too riveting,” you scoff, even though he can feel you cuddling further into him. Your cheek rubs against the soft cotton of his sweatshirt when you look up at him. He turns his head to peer down at you and his nose nearly grazes your forehead. 

He finds you with a certain glint in your eye. It’s borderline playful, like it so often is, but coated with a sweetness that drips over him like honey. “You like it so far?” you wonder.

“Yeah,” the boy nods quickly. He couldn’t tell you what had happened the past two-and-a-half films, but he could tell you how your jaw tenses when you chew and how your smile curls just before you laugh out loud and how your eyes widen every time you quote the movie. “It’s really good. I like it.”

You beam at him before turning back to the projector again. You shift to get more comfortable against him. “Good.” 

By the third movie, you’re somehow even closer.

Truth be told, Day of the Dead wasn’t your favorite in the trilogy, so it left your mind wandering to far off places — namely, the pretty boy sitting beside you. He goes to put the tape into the projector, feeling immediately cold without pressing into his side, and when he returns he tries his best not to beg you to cuddle against him again.

“My shoulder’s gettin’ real cold over here,” he tries to joke. 

You see right through his beckoning, though. It makes you happy to know he wants it just as much as you do. 

“Just say you wanna be next to me, Harrington,” you tease like you aren’t happily obliging him. You snuggle into his shoulder and rest your head against him while your arms curl around his bicep.

“I wanna be next to you,” he repeats, a playful smile on his lips though his gaze softens with sincerity. “Is that so bad?”

You shake your head against him in reply. Suddenly as mushy as the boy beside you, you turn to look up at him. “Not unless it’s bad that I wanna be next to you, too…”

“Nah. It’s not bad,” he assures in something short of a whisper. “Guess I’m just glad I’m not the only one that’s so far gone.”

He doesn’t elaborate on what he means by that. He doesn’t have to.

Perhaps it’s the admission that this boy is so far gone for you that gives you a sudden burst of confidence. Maybe it’s the comforting feeling of being seen, of knowing you’re no longer alone in your similar far gone-ness. Each feels like rays of sunshine to your skin and has you pressing your lips to his wanting ones without much thought. 

The plump pink of his mouth are magnets for yours. They meet and lock together with little effort, almost destined to do it. It’s a soft, meager, and lingering little peck that sucks you both in a little too easily. It’s hard to pull away from him, but when you do, your lips click in protest.

Then there’s a look, then a deafening silence that says more words than either of you were capable of forming in that moment. His amber eyes dart between both of yours, asking a question without saying a goddamn thing. One that you answer with your own softening gaze. 

And it’s almost better than the kiss itself, the swirling feeling in the pits of your stomach, the knowing of what’s about to happen.

A silent plea and a blink later and his lips are on yours again. 

It’s an awkward mess of yearning mouths and tangled limbs as the both of you fight to find purchase on one another. Your fingers knot in the collar of his sweatshirt, pulling him impossibly closer, while his grip the bare skin of your waist from where your shirt had ridden up. His touch makes you buzz, like a static shock or a bolt of lightning.

Steve makes several observations when he feels you melt into him like honey on toast. He notices how you press yourself into him, like you won’t be satisfied until you’ve swallowed him whole, and how it has you kissing him like you’re scared he’ll pull away — like you’ll open your eyes and he won’t be real. 

You’re as domineering against his mouth as you are in real life, still as all-consuming and overpowering as the girl he’s gotten so familiar with.

He doesn’t realize how you’ve settled so intently on top of him until his back meets the pillowy cushion of the leather couch. You don’t either, until he exhales a sharp gasp against your cupid’s bow. Then you part from him, for the first time in several minutes, breathing in the oxygen your lungs had just begun to scream for. 

Steve finds you with kiss-bitten lips and glassy eyes that look upon him with a softness that he didn’t know existed until now. He smirks with his own swollen and pinker mouth like he isn’t glowing red beneath you. 

“I thought you said no funny business,” he manages to tease through bated breaths.

You don’t bother to make up excuses for yourself. You’re already on top of him, all over him — you’ve already kissed him like you would’ve died if you hadn’t. Now, you’re straddling him, caging him between your legs and under your torso. You’ve settled on top of him with a comforting weightiness, like you’re building a home in the familiarity you’ve sought in him.

“I lied,” you mutter with a lazy shrug. A sly smile pulls slowly at your lips until you’re all but beaming sunbeams down at him. He revels in your warmth. “’S not my fault you’re so damn cute.”

It’s easier to blame it on him for all the reasons you’re attached to him like a magnet to his metal, your moth to his flame. You part his lips with your mouth, rut your tongue against his own, reveling in the foreign familiarity of it all, and then blame him for the way you can’t seem to stop any of it.

Steve doesn’t seem to mind, though. The way his hands find purchase on your hips, petting the warmed skin there and sometimes squeezing to pull you further down onto him, tells you that he has a similar yearning to melt with you. He lets you kiss him all slow, allows you to taste all of him, and doesn’t rush you in your process. It’s comforting, tender. Free.

He’s not used to being on his back like this. Usually, he’s the one taking control. It’s his mouth that does all the work. So, it’s strange to be under you and to have you above him. But it’s more pleasant in an even stranger way not to be rushed — not to have to do all the work. His mouth opens so obediently for you and finds an effortless rhythm with your lips and your tongue. 

It’s the easiest thing he’s ever done in his life, kissing you. 

He delights in every ounce of the warmth and unfamiliarity you press to his mouth, and tries to shove down feelings of unworthiness that simmer in his chest while you do so.

You don’t part until your mouths are numb and tingling with it. 

Your lips are more vibrant in their color, aflame and swollen from being so ardently kissed and sucked and bitten. Neither of you mind making out like a couple of teenagers. It’s comforting to know that things won’t go further than a couple soft touches on burning skin. It was never supposed to be anything more than that, anyway. It was just about being close to each other.

You’ve almost succeeded in your effort to melt into the boy beneath you, when you hear the distant sound of a door opening and closing again. Muffled voices follow — unknown to you but obviously familiar to him. 

You part from him without thinking, like you’re a couple of kids again who’ll get in trouble if your parents ever found out what you were doing down here. Steve groans at the loss of you and in annoyance at the sound of his parents. His heavy eyes fall shut and his head leans back to the couch cushions as he fights to swallow down all of his anger.

His parents never really come around these days. They’ve got a bigger home in the city, closer to his dad’s work, and they choose to stay there most days of the week — month. 

They used to make excuses for why they left their only son behind. It’s five minutes from your dad’s firm. There’s more opportunity for your mom’s real estate business. Oh, don’t be so selfish, Steven, you’ll finally have the place to yourself. It’s a win-win for all of us.

Steve didn’t want their excuses. It was actually easier with them gone. 

But they come around every now and again, whenever it’s most convenient for them, and treat their arrival like something that needs to be celebrated. Like they aren’t supposed to be with their child in the fucking first place. And they somehow manage to pick the most inconvenient times for him, like they know he’s in a bind and want to see him struggle to get out of it.

Usually, it’s when he’s in between paychecks — when they want to take him out to some fancy dinner he could barely afford anyway, but especially when he’s hardly making it until payday. Now, it’s when he’s got the prettiest girl he’s ever seen on top of him, and he’s all hot and half-hard. Steve doesn’t want to let them ruin the moment, as good as they are at it.

“It’s okay. They won’t come in here,” he assures when he feels you tense at the unexpected company. “My mom will go to the bedroom and my dad will go to his office. We’re good, I promise.”

You figure he’s right. The voices grow more and more distant. Heeled shoes click up and up the stairs while heavy stomps head the opposite way. But you’ve already been so woefully knocked out of your stupor that you’re scared it’s too late.

Your lips are numb and the credits are rolling and you’re on top of this beautiful boy and you have no idea how you got there.

It’s almost frightening, the way Steve had consumed you mind, body, and soul by just existing next to you. You become dreadfully hyperaware of the whole thing — of who you are, who he is, and what you’re doing. You lose all your softness and turn to ice, hardening and shrinking back into yourself.

“I should—” you start before clearing your throat when the words come out heavier than expected. “I should head out anyway.”

“Oh,” is all Steve can say. “Right.”

You stare down at him, chest still pressed against his, nose nearly touching the tip of his own. “I just— I have to open tomorrow and everything, so—”

“No. Yeah. Yeah, I— I get it.”

You make tricky work of untangling yourselves.

His legs twist with yours when you both try to rise from the couch at the same time. Then your ring gets stuck in the fabric of his shirt, but not before his belt buckle gets somehow caught in yours. It’s like fate is protesting the imminent parting, but neither of you are paying attention to the signs.

He walks you to your car and chuckles under his breath as you scurry to the front door. 

You’re not-so-distantly terrified of running into his parents. They probably wouldn’t mind that he’s sneaking around with a girl, surely that they’re used to, but you’re almost certain they’re not used to girls like you. Girls with wild hair and leather skirts and chunky boots and too bold makeup. 

You’re not the girl next door. You’re the girl parents warn their sons about. “Leave that girl alone,” they say. “She’s nothing but trouble.”

You tell him all of this on the short trek to your half-broken-down car when you catch him laughing at you about the whole thing. You say it in jest, lighthearted and trying to make a joke of it. But there’s an underlying melancholia to your tone that reveals every truth you’re trying to evade.

“They don’t care enough about me to give a shit about a girl I’m with, I promise,” he confesses with a laugh that sounds more like a sad scoff than anything else. His chocolate eyes turn gold beneath the yellow street light. He smirks at you. “Besides, I don’t know if I told you this or not, but my middle name is actually trouble, so… I think we might be a match made in heaven.”

You roll your eyes at his attempts to flirt with you, though his lack of finesse makes you smile. “You’re an idiot, Steve Actually Trouble Harrington.”

“You really know how to say goodbye, don’t ya?” he grins when you reach the curb where your tin can car sits. 

“Yeah, I’m pro,” you shrug with a teasing glint in your eye, then you beam. “I’ll see you around, ‘kay?”

“Totally,” he nods, suddenly forlorn at having to leave you like he hadn’t just spent the past four hours with you.

Themetallic click of your car door opening sounds much louder in the emptiness of the suburbs. You glance at the boy right before you sink into the driver’s seat, feeling your heart swell with something short of yearning — anticipation. 

You weren’t actually a professional at saying goodbye, you find, because you’re realizing how hard it is to leave him.

“Steve!” he hears you shout from across the lawn when he’s halfway up the drive. 

He turns around, expecting to hear you tease him some more or tell him you were having car troubles. Neither would’ve shocked him. You’ve got a smart mouth and a shittier car. But you keep on surprising him, all but launching yourself into him before kissing him harder than he’s ever been kissed before.

Steve tenses against you at first, then relaxes again in record time. He sighs in the comfort of having your body pressed so intently into his and your arms wrapped around his neck to pull him somehow closer. 

You feel the breath of his exhale fan against your cupid’s bow. It makes you smile, and he feels the expression contort against his lips. His hands rise to the widest part of your hips without thinking. It’s all muscle memory now.

And even though he’s spent the better part of an hour kissing you, this one is so obviously different. This wasn’t just to pass the time. This was more than just to feel him — it was to tell him something. He hears every word you don’t say, but rather press like a stamp to his mouth.

He’s breathless when you pull away. You meet his flushed face with a mischievous grin.

“What was that for?” he wonders breathlessly, but doesn’t waver with his hold on you. He quickly notices that yours doesn’t either.

You shrug in response. “‘Cause you’re pretty.”

“Yeah, well…” he tries to play off like he’s not blushing like crazy. “You’re pretty too.”

Your beam ebbs into a teasing, tightlipped smirk. “Stop flirting with me, Steve Harrington.”

You shove him away with a rougher hand than you realize before you walk away from him. Steve rubs at the ache in his chest with the palm of his hand.

Your playful teasing and your lingering kiss is the only thing Steve has to remember you by when you turn on your chunky heeled boot and head off down the driveway again. He’s frozen, mesmerized by the sight of you and reeling at how you manage to drive him crazy without trying.

Your eyes find him again just before you duck into your car, and you see him still looking at you — mouth agape and eyes wide like you’re some kind of rare find. You figure you must be, in some way. Girls like you aren’t supposed to like guys like him. Vice Versa. Tale as old as time.

The boy stays locked in his stupor until the sprinkles whir on. The spurts of freezing cold water spray all over him and his pretty hair and expensive sweatshirt and his vintage jeans. “Shit!” you hear him swear as he rushes for cover on his front porch. 

He’s quickly soaked and freezing cold, but he smiles anyway when he hears the sound of your giggling behind him. It’s as animated as your personality and spills from your mouth like so many rays of sunshine, just a little too loud for the quiet midnight suburbs. 

It’s perfect, he realizes. You’re perfect. 

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #st oneshots #stevie oneshot #punchy x steve

[pacifymebby]

You know what would be funny, the peaky boys with a gf who looks Innocent and shy out in public but fucks like a porn star, tommy would be so confused at first 'wtf did this come from?? You blushed not an hour ago bc i called you pretty' and poor Bonnie, he really had no idea, he might be in shock after getting the best head he's ever received just trying to figure out if he's dreaming or not while looking up at the ceiling

Tommy

🌿 Tommy would be so confused, but very impressed...

🌿 He'd hoped there was a secret, darker side hiding behind your shyness and now he sees he was right.

🌿He hadn't been expecting it though, it had taken him so long to get you to even look him in the eye... He wasn't even expecting you to actually let him touch you...

🌿But here you are on your knees, looking up at him from under your thick long lashes, licking the tip of his cock... Teasing him. He can't believe you're actually teasing him!

🌿 You have always been so shy, you litterally blush and look away when he tells you you're pretty but now he thinks he knows why...

🌿 Maybe its because when he calls you "my pretty girl" your mind wanders to places it shouldnt.

🌿 He definitely embraces this new, naughty side to you, he wants to take advantage of it and will constantly be testing your limits to see just how much of a little slut you can be for him.

🌿 Somehow you always manage to surprise him, like every time you take your clothes off he's expecting you to be all shy and blushy but you never are... Its like your own thoughts and desires cloud your head and make you do the most depraved things.

🌿 He's pretty certain you'll do whatever he asks you to and still find a way of surprising him.

🌿 His favourite thing is to fuck you hard and fast up against the wall. He likes hearing the moans and whines which escaped you, he likes it when he fucked you so hard he steals your breath away.

🌿 He also loves the fact that he now knows something about you that nobody else does. Everybody else thinks youre a virginal, good girl, innocent but he knows different.

🌿 Invites you into his office when he can tell you're feeling very needy, he'll hide you under his desk and have you cockwarm him whilst he finishes his work.

Alfie

🐻 Alfie could tell from the very first time you held his gaze, that beneath that quiet, timid persona there was a little devil waiting to be unlocked.

🐻 Because some women are just like that see, some women like to pretend to be innocent and pure because deep down they have all these terrible cravings that they can't control

🐻 He could tell from the haze you got in your eyes sometimes when he was talking to you, that your mind had drifted to places it shouldnt.

🐻 So he knew that all he had to do was unlock it. He spent a long time being patient, chipping away at you bit by bit, trying to uncover what he knew was hiding behind that outer shyness

🐻 It happened painfully slowly and then suddenly all at once... You seemed to change in a second, blushing and timid as he undressed you to suddenly shameless, mewling and whining as you ground down on his cock in desperation

🐻 He likes the noises you make... They're filthy, and completely shameless... They start off as quiet, shy little sighs but by the time hes finished with you theyre loud, drawn out, moans, full of sin.

🐻 When you ride him you always start out shy and a little self concious, but alfie knows he only has to push you a little before you fall off the edge and your own desire for pleasure overpowers you. You go ferral, your animal instincts controlling you, and Alfie just gets to sit back and enjoy the view.

Arthur

🍂 Arthur would be surprised but he wouldn't falter. He'd adapt immediately and fuck you twice as hard.

🍂 "Al-fuckin-right then," him grinning as he looks over you, the first time to check that you are real, he isn't dreaming, and the second time to admire the view.

🍂 You went from being intimidated by him, blushing, unable to look him in the eyes, barely raising your voice above a whisper to speak to him

🍂 And suddenly youre licking your own juices off his fingers whilst he fucks you from behind like a hungry little slut

🍂 Its a dream come true for arthur thats for sure.

🍂 He loves to talk dirty to you... Seeing you get desperate, fucking like an animal, brings out the animal in him and the two of you end up havinf the most intense, hot and rough sex.

🍂 He'd degrade you, but in a cute way, "Fucking pretty little slut, the prettiest fuckin slut in the whole world..."as he's fucking you so hard you can barely breath.

🍂 He loves this side of you, can't get enough of you when you're feral and desperate for his cock. So he likes to remind you how much you love his cock.

🍂 He would want to brag to his brothers about it but they just won't believe him, every time he tells them about your wild side they just smirk "in your dreams brother," and laugh at him. Arthur gets so annoyed but theres nothing he can do.

🍂 Sometimes he wonders if they are right, did he dream all this up?

🍂 But when he doubts himself and tries to approach you more gently, he's quickly reminded that he hasn't dreamt you up at all, that you really are his cock hungry little slut.

🍂 His favourite thing to do is bend you over furniture, especially if theres a mirror near by so he can pull your hair and force you to watch him fucking you. You go so wild when you can see yourself and you practically dregrade yourself for him... "Fuckk Arthur, harder please Arthur need you deeper..." "I'll let you do anything to me, fuck me however you want I just need you so bad I'll do anything..."

John

🌼 John would be so confused. He would have been completely taken in by how sweet and innocent you seemed, he'd have been enjoying teasing you, enjoying how blushy and flustered you got... And it wouldn't have occurred to him for even a second that beneath those rosy cheeks and doe eyes, hid a darker, naughtier side to you...

🌼 He'd find out when he was already fucking you, his cock hitting deep inside you... Youd let out the filthiest moan he's ever heard and start begging him to fuck you faster. It would be such a sudden change, such ab unexpected one that he'd stop for a second.

🌼 He'd stop, with his cock twitching inside you, and he'd just look down at you blinking... Then he'd hear you whining beneath him, feel you trying to grind against him, desperate for the friction and he'd chuckle realising how much fun he could have...

🌼 "Sorry baby what was that i didnt quite hear you?" he'd hover over you, that cheeky smirk making you self concious again as he remained still, not giving you what you wanted.

🌼 He would definitely tease you, trying to push you to the edge, wouldn't give in until you were begging, crying because you want him to fuck you So Bad.

🌼 Then he would, and he'd embrace this darker side of you, fucking you fast and hard and mercileasly. This man would over stimulate you until you were seeing starts just so he could hover over you and call you all these pretty but degrading pet names.

🌼 He will tease you about this slutty side you have at the most inappropriate times, often making dirty comments to you in public, never loud enough for other people to hear but loud enough to embarrass you

🌼 He enjoys making you beg for him, making you drool over his cock, making you so desperate for him that by the time he touches you youre begging him to let you suck his cock, shaking before he's even touched you.

Bonnie

🍀 Would not see this coming at all, he'd be in complete shock... Not just shocked that you're such a dirty girl, but also shocked at your stamina!! Its like you're never worn out, you always have the energy for one more orgasm...

🍀The first time you give him head he swears he literally sees god. He doesn't know what to do with himself just lies there, chest rising and falling, mouth slightly open, eyes on the ceiling as you crawl back up his body kissing his chest. You kiss him and he can taste the salt of his cum on your tongue.. He doesnt know what to say but he can feel himself getting hard for you already as you suck his tongue and moan into his mouth.

🍀 Honestly he goes to sleep that night and when he wakes up the next day he's convinced the whole thing was just a really vivid dream

🍀 But when you wake up in the same needy mood, begin tracing your hands over his body, pressing your bum against him and grinding against his crotch, he realises it wasn't a dream

🍀 And it unlocked an animal instinct in him so that this time he takes control and rises to your naughty side, fucking you hard into the mattress, spreading your legs and stretching you out. He's definitely a soft dom type, grunting and growling the cutest, sweetest praises in your ear. Kissing you and calling you a good little dove.

🍀 Like John his favourite thing is to overstimulate you, he's fascinated watching how you lose all your inhibitions when you fall apart. It makes him feel really proud?

🍀Definitely encourages his breeding kink

🍀 He would get worried that he'd fucked you too hard and will always have a moment of doubt afterwards wanting to make sure you're okay. "You will tell me if i hurt you won't you dove?"

🍀 "What if i like it?" you ask, partially because its true and partially because you want to see him blushhhhh

Isaiah

🐀Is surprised that someone as quiet and mousy as his sweet shy little darling could be so fucking filthy behind closed doors.

🐀 But he thanks his lucky stars that you are because the sex is incredible.

🐀 The first time you come out of your shell making him turn the light back on so that you can see everything he'd smirk, he wasn't expecting you to be that kind of girl.

🐀 "it's always the quiet ones fuck me..."

🐀 He loves the fact you ride him with such confidence and pride, he grips your thighs and tries to control your movements as he watches you come undone on top of him.

🐀Boy is hypnotised by your tits when youre riding him.

🐀When you tip your head back and the moans start tumbling out of you, when you start touching yourself right there in front of him...

🐀Loves to degrade you, loves to tell you what to do and then watch you become more and more disobedient the closer to coming you get.

🐀Will tell you to be as loud as you like, loves making you s c r e a m

🐀He will brag to his friends about how fucking crazy you are in the bedroom and if anyone so much as tries to laugh or disbelieve him he'll get defensive of you and threaten them with his peaky cap. He'll also threaten anyone who dares reply with "so shes a whore then ain't she..."

Michael

☘️ He isn't shocked by it actually, these days he thinks he's seen it all.

☘️ He finds out because he comes home from work one day and catches you masturbating. He hears you moaning his name and when he goes to the bedroom he is met with the (frankly gorgeous) sight of you on top of the bed sheets, legs spread, cunt making sucking noises as you cum with your fingers pumping in and out of your hole, your other hand furiously rubbing your clit.

☘️ He'd try to embarrass you with a slow clap, "bravo love, marvellous show..." but then he'd see the burning shameless look of desire in your eyes and be unable to resist you.

☘️ "No such thing as a good girl these days i suppose..."

☘️ Will degrade you and get off on degrading you. Definitely into spanking you and definitely gets off on how much you enjoy being spanked.

☘️ Will become addicted to your sex very very quickly. Basically brings you to work with him every day so that youre there for him to fuck whenever either of you gets the craving.

☘️ Loves hiding you under his desk, having you suck his cock for hours on end.

☘️ If you ever make out like youre tired of going into work with him every day he'll remind you what happened last time he left you unsupervised.

☘️ He likes to make you watch yourself in the mirror when he fingers you. He also likes to make you look at yourself when he's smeared his cum all over you, so he can show you what a nasty girl you are.

Sorry these weren't very long lovely, i hope you liked them!!!

#peaky blinders imagines #bonnie gold x reader #tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders headcanon #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders imagine

[barleyo]

Roll of the Dice.

Armin Arlert X Fem! Reader (smut)

A/N: Heyyy I hope y'all enjoy this piece, sorry if it seems rushed! I got this idea after overhearing a few friends talking about D&D and I knew I needed to make something Armin related for it!

Tags: older brother! Eren, brother's best friend trope, semi-public sex, slightly perv! Armin, nerdy shit, loss of virginity, male sub (?), handjobs, cream pie, unprotected sex

"Eren, where are you going?" (Y/N) crept down the stairs, her socks padding her steps. "Goin' out?"

Her brother nodded. "It's game night," he reminded her quietly, keeping his voice hushed since it was rather late.

"God, is hanging out with your little nerd troupe all you do?" She made her way down the stairs completely and felt herself gravitate towards the door with him.

"Whatever," he sneered, rolling his eyes. "Are you coming with me tonight or not?"

"Well, who's gonna be there? You know how I feel about some of your acquaintances."

"Most of 'em are busy tonight, but, uh, Connie, Sasha, Jean, Mikasa--"

"Jean? Really?" (Y/N) grimaced a bit. He was one of his friends that she couldn't stand. "Who's hosting?"

"If you'd give me a second, I'd be able to answer." Eren grabbed his keys off of the hook and pocketed them after giving (Y/N) and annoyed look. "Armin's hosting tonight."

Every Saturday night, her brother and his friend group, who she found to be absolute geeks, would meet up at one of their houses to play D&D. She could never grasp the game, but she often stuck around to keep her brother company during the matches...

Or that's what she told herself. Really, deep down, she knew she tagged along for Eren's childhood friend, Armin. He was the biggest nerd out of the whole group, but she had always been attracted to him. Even as kids, she was stuck to him like white on snow, never daring to leave her side. Eren's other friends would tease (Y/N) for her clinginess to the blond boy, but oddly enough, it didn't bother either of them. Armin was always patient, and she was always grateful for that.

Sleepovers, birthday parties, play dates, and as they got older 'hang out sessions.' Whenever Armin was at their house, (Y/N) was sure to be close to him. It started off simply enough: asking him if she could play with them as children, inviting him to play tea party with her and her stuffed animals (which he couldn't turn down, no matter how much he wanted to), and asking him to push her on the swing. Over time, however, it progressed. Once they had all grown into teens, she took a sharp... romantic edge with him. She'd snuggle up to him on movies nights and hide her head in his neck when she was scared, anything to be close to him. 

"Alright, I'll come tonight," she said. She grabbed her shoes from their spot in front of the door and urged Eren with her hands to get going.

"Oh, glad you guys could make it! Come on in, everyone else is already here." 

Armin held his front door open for the two, giving his trademarked 'sweet, yet constantly nervous' looking smile. 

"Thanks, man." Eren stepped inside, walking through the foyer to get to the group while (Y/N) staggered behind a bit to speak to Armin.

He shut the door and stood with his feet loosely planted. "So, uh, (Y/N), I didn't see you last week for game night."

"Hah, sorry to give you the slip like that. What, were you waiting up for me?" She could see his face warming up a bit, and she loved every second of it.

"No-! I mean, not exactly. I just thought I'd see you, you know. I-It was an exciting match, you would've had fun."

She quirked a brow at him, crossing her arms. "I would've had fun watching you guys play?"

"Well, that's why you come, isn't it? Plus, you don't have to just watch. I can teach you how to play. If you'd like that, I mean. Just, uhm--"

"Guys, hurry up. Connie's getting restless," Eren called from the living room.

"Yeah, I don't have forever to kick it with you guys," Connie said, audibly crunching chips while he spoke.

"Please, what else do you have going on, Con?" 

The distinct bickering continued in the background while Armin turned back to face (Y/N). "That's our cue, I suppose."

"Finally." Eren was perched lazily on a beanbag chair near the coffee table where the board was set up. "Let's get this party started, eh, guys?"

A soft cheer came from everyone.

(Y/N) scanned the scene quickly. Armin, of course, was sitting in the floor at the head of the table, like he always did. It was the best seat in the house, in his opinion, and as the Dungeon Master, he got first choice of seats. 

Eren and Mikasa were already sitting together, and she didn't want to third-wheel them. She liked Connie and Sasha, and she wouldn't mind sitting with them both, but she really didn't feel like getting snack crumbs all over her throughout the game from her two messy friends.

That left Jean.

She didn't absolutely despise him, but his energy was always off. His hugs lasted too long, and he made weird comments towards the girls in the group. It seemed that she would have to toughen up and sit next to him for the night.

"Hey, (Y/N)?" Armin spoke from behind the Dungeon Master screen. "Would you want to sit with me tonight? That way you could see how to play."

Thank god for Armin, her little angel in disguise!

She immediately went over to him and took a seat on his lap, taking him a bit by surprise, but nobody in the group seemed to care much. She got herself comfortable and scanned over the various manuals and rules in the guide books in front of them both.

"Alright. Let's play!" (Y/N) said, giving a half-grin.

"The gang of orcs raise their weapons and challenge your troupe, how do you proceed--?" Armin's voice hitched in his throat.

(Y/N) began to mindlessly grind down on him, actually paying attention to the game in front of her for once. Armin was right, she was starting to enjoy it, but as she got lost in the game, her body started to act on its own.

"I grab my sword and raise it to the air, charging the monsters with my team following close behind."

"Eren, wait, we didn't agree on that," Connie whined, "I'm already injured from the last fight."

"Don't be such a pussy, you can tough it out."

"Stop bickering," Mikasa snapped at the two playfully, "you're both like two children."

"Armin, can you pass me the pretzels? Just slide the bowl over here, big dog." Sasha leaned forward over the table, ready to receive the large bowl of snacks.

He snorted at the name and obliged, pushing the bowl with his finger tips. However, as he pulled his arm back, he knocked his drink back onto not only his lap, but the girl on his lap.

"Shit! I'm so sorry, (Y/N)!" His voice was filled with sheer panic. "Shit, shit, shit, it's all over your shirt."

"It's fine, don't worry," she assured him. "Here, just take me to your room. I'll change into one of your shirts for the rest of the night and all will be forgiven, alright?"

He exhaled and nodded. She led him up the stairs to his room, walking through the halls like she knew the house like the back of her hand. 

"Here, you can go change in the bathroom," he spun around with a clean shirt in his arms, only to be met by (Y/N) already stripping. "Oh... or, I-I can leave!" He turned back around throwing his hands over his glasses and heading to the door.

"Armin," she said his name is her most sultry tone, "come back. Don't be shy." 

Her shirt and bra were long gone, leaving her bare chested in the cold room. Round buds caught Armin's attention, her pert nipples hardening at the air. 

"(Y/N), I don't think we should--"

"Then don't think. Don't think, and come here." She grabbed his hand and yanked him over to her. Wrapping her arms around his neck she leaned in close to his face and offered her lips to him. "I want this. Don't you?" She peered at him from behind her fluttering eyelashes, lips pouting. 

With that, he gave in. His kiss was eager, but precise and neat. It surprised her, most guys kissed as if they hee sex was the end goal: rushed and messy, letting their teeth clash against hers in the most unsexy way possible. But not Armin. Everything about him was tender and sweet. 

She wondered what it would take for him to get messy.

Breaking from the kiss, she pushed him to the corner of his bed. She fiddled with the zipper of his jeans and freed his leaking cock from his boxers.

"Wait, I want to make you feel good first," he protested, trying to flip the script and put her body under his.

"Hush. If you want me to feel good, you'll let me do what I wanna do, right?"

He slowly nodded as his face started to heat up. "R-right."

"Exactly. Now, do you like how this feels? When I use my hand like this?"

He felt her grab his length and give it a few teasing pumps, up and down, slow and firm. His cock kicked a bit in her palm.

"Please don't stop," Armin huffed, covering his mouth with his hand. It felt amazing, but he knew the walls in his house were thin; the others could hear them both if they were too loud.

She craned her neck over his lap as she stood in front of him. Thick, stretchy dribbled of spit connected with his tip. She smeared the spit and mixed it with his pre cum, rubbing her thumb around the thick head.

It was mean, she knew, but she had an idea. She crouched down to her knees and gave him a cheeky look. Her lips connected to his tip with a soft, sweet kiss. She gently opened her mouth to take his length, opening just enough for his tip. Hee tongue trailed around it, taking purchase specifically of a thick vein on the underside of his cock.

His pre cum left a glossy stain around her mouth and he shuddered at the view. He gripped the blanket under his and felt his cock twitch and fill her mouth, all too quickly.

"Oh my god," he whispered. "I didn't mean to do that so quickly, I'm sorry! I-it's just that you're so pretty and your mouth is so warm and wet," he explained while his face grew beet red. A gasp escaped his chest when she swallowed his cum, licking her lips and grinning.

"You're adorable." She removed her mouth from him with a pop. 

Armin grunted and his face visibly cringed. 'Adorable' wasn't what he was trying to go for, especially not during sex. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. You're so cute. I bet you're a virgin too, aren't you?" She cooed at him playfully, but it stung a bit.

He was, in fact, a virgin, but he felt the need to prove himself to her. He could cope with cumming early, that was relatively fine, but he knew how to pleasure a woman, and (Y/N) needed to know that he could. Porn and assorted hentai games had taught him well, he was just waiting for the chance to try out his moves.

"I'll show you what this virgin can do," he challenged. "Lay down, right here."

She took her place in the middle of his bed, laying flat on her back. "Like this?"

"Mm, stay still." He slotted himself between her legs on the bed. His hands made quick work of her shorts and panties, tossing them behind him into a crumpled pile on the floor. 

With his cock already sprung free, he moved his tip through her folds, collecting her slick over it. It was his turn to tease, his turn to make sure that she had more than her fill. And he knew exactly how, so he slid his length in to the hilt, bottoming out in her.

(Y/N) let her eyes squeeze shut. The initial sharpness of his thrust eventually eased into a soft wave of pleasure. 

"Hey, keep your eyes open, okay? I wanna see them. They're so pretty," he said, wiping the pricked tear from the corner of her eye. 

Armin's hips reeled back so he could start a steadier pace. He made short strokes, only pulling himself out of her halfway. When he pushed back into her cunt, he rutted into her, nudging his greedy cock into her most sensitive spot.

"You're so good at this, 's not fair. You-- oh, fuck!" Her legs started to wobble a bit, she could feel them starting to give out on her.

"You're so adorable," he mimicked her earlier words with a whisper, leaning down to her ear. He gave the lobe a nibble and traced his tongue around the shell of it.

Once her walls started to spasm around him intermittently, he knew he had her right on the edge of her orgasm.

"Are you gonna cum? I feel you clenching on me, you must be close." He tried to keep his voice steady, but the rasp in it gave away how close he also was. "Give it to me, (Y/N). You know you want to."

"Yes, I wanna cum so bad," she gasped sharply, gripping the fabric of his shirt. Her clenching started up again, but this time it was much more powerful. 

Armin hissed through his teeth, feeling the grip her cunt had around him. He couldn't pry himself out in time, and let his seed spill out, shooting deep into her. 

Neither of them moved for a moment. Armin was still inside, enjoying the thick, wet warmth. 

"You know, for a used-to-be-virgin, you fucked me real good, 'Min." (Y/N) shifted in the bed, turning to face the boy. She brushed a lock of his blond hair behind his ear and wiped at the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"Ah, you think so? Maybe you should come over next week too, and we'll see if I can top my current high score."

#barleyxnighteye #smutfic #smut #x reader #attack on titan #aot x reader #armin x reader #armin arlert #armin smut #fem reader #d&d

[writermai05]

Arsonist's Lullabye

Prologue: All you have is your fire

Summary: Zuko’s bad day gets a bit better after an encounter with an unfamiliar face. 

Pairing: zuko x fem! reader (Live Action or Animated) 

A/N: I am delusional, and when I had the idea for a zuko x reader modern AU where he works in Iroh’s boba tea shop, I had to follow through with said idea. Let’s see if this goes anywhere, and feel free to leave comments or suggestions on how the fic could play out maybe :) 

Word Count: 773

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Avatar: The Last Airbender, I am merely a nerd who hyperfixates a lot.  This is a modern AU that takes place in the avatar world. Bending still exists. Zuko and the gaang are in college in this series !!

TW!: Physical abuse, burns, Ozai in general, Zuko’s backstory is so sad. 

Zuko knew it was going to be a long day as soon as he opened the shop at 12pm. 

Within the first two hours, he had run out of tapioca pearls, dropped a container filled with matcha on the floor (which by the way, was a pain in the ass to clean up,) and slipped on the floors he had just mopped. Perhaps he was just born unlucky. Perhaps, most people in life didn’t have to struggle the way that he was, the way that he always had. It wasn’t all bad. He was lucky enough to be here, working in his uncle’s tea shop in the Earth Kingdom, rather than in his father’s company back in the Fire Nation. 

The Jasmine Dragon was beloved by many. People from all over the city came to have some of the shops' amazing teas and pastries. It wasn’t too busy, having only three people come in today.  perhaps because school at the University of Ba Sing Se hadn’t quite started up yet, outside of the students who had moved in early. The shop was particularly chilly today, but the atmosphere managed to maintain the same warm and cozy feeling, with the dim atmospheric lighting and the sage and emerald hued furniture. Zuko had a second to just relax in the stillness. 

 He appreciated these quiet moments the most.  The moments where he could stop worrying about the shop, and overthinking the worst things he had ever done in his life. Such as when he lashed out at his uncle, multiple times, or about the people he had bullied in high school. He was almost able to forget it all. Forget the fact that his younger sister, Azula, was still stuck in a house with his abusive father, or even forget the feeling of his father’s hand, burning the flesh of his face, leaving a scar in its wake, as well as a near complete blindness in his left eye. His demons may be restless, but boy did Zuko keep them on a tight leash. 

Zuko’s reverie was broken by the sound of the door’s bell chime. He immediately snapped out of his thoughts, waiting patiently for his assistance to be needed. 

“Um, excuse me,” 

A girl, who seemed to be around his age, was standing right in front of him. She wore a navy blue dress with a pale blue lining and detailing around the edges. A belt of the same color was around her waist, with a brown leather cord connecting a bag onto her hip. Her black jacket was cropped to about rib length, with brown leather cords fastening it closed, as well as matching black pants and brown boots. 

“This is my first time here…Is there anything that you’d recommend?” She asked politely. 

There was something about the way her kind eyes twinkled in the orange lighting that made Zuko fluster. He cleared his throat before opening his mouth to talk. 

“Well, Lychee juice is a customer favorite. But personally, my Uncle Iroh’s jasmine green tea is the best in Ba Sing Se.” 

“The best in Ba sing Se?” She raised her eyebrows inquisitively.

“The best.” he nodded. 

“I’ll take it.” She said, reaching to the tote bag slung over her shoulder. Zuko interrupted her actions with the wave of his hand. 

Zuko shook his head. “Don’t worry, It’s on me.” he said, as he began punching numbers, into the register. 

“Oh no! I can’t let you do that-” She protested. 

He shrugged, a blush beginning to warm his cheeks.  “For a first time customer.” 

“Thank you so much…” She trailed off, waiting for him to tell her his name.

“Zuko.”

“Zuko. I’ll be sure to come by again. And I fully intend on paying that time.” She said with a playful glare. 

The boy smiled slightly.

“Your tea will be ready shortly.” 

Zuko had Iroh bring the tea over to the girl. He wasn’t confident in his ability to steadily bring the tray of hot tea without causing more burns to cover his body. The older man made sure to give the girl a complimentary fruit tart to enjoy, but not before looking at his nephew with a teasing glint in his eyes. Zuko groaned. 

“Not a word, uncle.” He said as he walked through the staff doors into the shops’ kitchen. 

After about 20 minutes had passed, Iroh came into the kitchen, clutching what looked like a napkin and some paper Yuan bills. 

“Zuko! The girl left this on her table after she left!”

Zuko carefully took the napkin from his uncle’s hand, reading the message. 

“Thanks for the tea! - y/n.” 

#arsonist's lullabye #atla #atla live action #atla netflix #avatar the last airbender #prince zuko #zuko x reader #prince zuko x reader #atla x reader #prince zuko imagine #modern au #college au #aang #katara #sokka #toph #zuko

[atinystraynstay]

Little Star - Lee Minho

Synopsis: Saying goodbye is never easy. A bit of the weight of sadness is lifted thanks to your boyfriend, Lee Know. While he might not always have the right words to say, just being present with you meant more than words could ever be said. You were his world, after all. He would go to every extent he physically could to bring you comfort.

Pairing: Lee Minho x reader Genre: Angst - mourning and grieving, comfort at the end

Warning: mentions of death (pet) Word Count: 1.6k

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Never before has Minho driven so fast. However, hearing the way that you spoke on the phone made it more urgent than ever that he was beside you. He didn't even say goodbye to the other boys.

"Wait what? Right now?" He spoke. He jumped up, eyes scanning around Chan's studio for his belongings.

Han could sense the urgency and helped Minho get his bag. All the boys were on standby, waiting to see what they could do for their friend at the moment. Chan already gave the nod to Lee Know that he could leave. Minho mouthed a 'thank you' as he remained on the phone with you.

"Y/n, sweetie, breathe. I'm coming, okay? I'll be there in 15 minutes. Wait no. I'll be there in 10."

You were in the private room towards the back. Your phone was on the countertop by the cotton balls, tongue depressors, and treats for patients. You were waiting for Minho to text you that he arrived, but you were trying to spend your final moments with your beloved pet.

The receptionist desk had turned on the electric candle at the front - a signal that silence was expected in the lobby. Seeing the light was on from the glass door, Minho tried his best to calm his breathing before walking in. He didn't want anything to stand in the way of getting to you, or upsetting you.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. The vet was one of his least favorite places. Being a pet owner himself, he knew how crucial the vet was. He just dreaded moments like this.

Approaching slowly, he looked at the receptionist who offered a friendly smile. "Hi," he said softly. "My girlfriend brought in her dog. Um, she texted me," he awkwardly said. Of course the receptionist could have an inkling why he was here, but it was just heartbreaking for Minho to say outlaid.

The receptionist nodded before standing up, gesturing towards the door towards the back hallway. "They've been waiting for you. Go ahead and knock," she said softly. Minho thanked her quietly, giving a small bow of his head before quickly walking in the direction of you. As he walked, the hallway seemed to stretch forever. He just needed to get to you.

Your dog was your whole world. While Minho wasn't necessarily the biggest fan of dogs, he had a soft spot for yours. Your dog greeted him openly, wanting to bounce and lick him with their tail wagging. Even though you had warned Minho your dog tended to be standoffish with encountering males. Minho seemed to be the exception, for you and your dog.

Minho also knew the importance any pet holds in someone's life. Soonie, Doongie, and Dori were the whole world to Minho. They were like his children, so he would go above and beyond for them. You felt the same way about your dog. This was a part of owning a pet that nobody ever wanted to get to.

You adopted your dog your freshman year of college. You were volunteering at the animal shelter when you began to take your dog on walks. You two had an instant bond that everyone at the shelter recognized. Before you entered the shelter, your dog would just lay around on its bed. it showed no interest in people who might want to adopt him. Until you.

When you appeared in front of the kennel, your dog showed signs of life for the first time in months. His tail wagged, and his ears picked up. It was a match made in heaven. Little did you know that you both would end up saving each other.

For the past 6 years, you and your dog had each other. 3 apartments, 2 major moves, 1 college graduation, a few guys coming in and out your life. Your dog quickly getting acquainted with Minho as he began to come around more solidified that Minho was the guy for you. I mean, you already knew that from the butterflies in your stomach and the way your cheeks heated up being around him. Your dog's approval of your new boyfriend was everything though.

That was 2 years ago. Last month, you noticed your dog was not showing interest in your evening walks. You figured it might have something to do with the change in weather. Sirens went off when your dog began to lose his appetite. Before, he was known to finish off the bowl in a matter of seconds. Almost like piranhas being fed. Your dog not even showing an interest in his kibble concerned you. You just never knew you'd end up here.

Once Minho reached the examination door you were in, he let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. From the other side of the door, he could hear your sniffling which shattered his heart.

He knocked gently, not wanting to startle you, especially given the circumstances. He was here to support you, and help mend your broken heart. Not cause more damage. He heard you sniffling quickly, almost as if you were trying to get yourself together. He would have cracked a joke about it, but this wasn't the time or place. "Come in," you called out, your voice soft.

Slowly, Minho pushed open the door to reveal himself. You seemed to also breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of your boyfriend.

"Hi, sweet girl," he whispered. He stepped into the room, quietly shutting the door behind him. Usually, you would have thrown your arms around Minho. Not today. You stuck beside your beloved dog, who was looking at Minho was the saddest eyes while keeping their head against the cold metal of the examination table. Your hand was running along the back of your dog.

Seeing it was just Minho, you began to feel the tears fall from your cheeks. You watched as he kneeled down to by eye level with your beloved company. "Hey buddy, I know," Minho cooed. The sight alone was enough to bring you to turns. You saw your dog try to wag his tail, maybe getting from side to side once before stopping.

Knowing your dog was ready to go, it broke your heart. But it also meant that you were making the right decision. Even though you wished your go could live forever, you didn't want to be selfish. Finding the cancer mass on his stomach, and finding out how much pain he was in and would continue to be if you tried different treatments just didn't sit right with you.

Minho kissed your dog's head lingeringly. You couldn't sworn you saw tears forming his eyes which made more tears swell up in eyes. Minho was not the type that liked to show emotions so easily.

Keeping his hand by your dog's left ear, scratching the one spot your dog loves, he stood up to be by you. His free hand moved to wrap around your frame, pulling you in close. He pressed a kiss into the side of your head, squeezing you gently. You rested your head on his shoulder.

You weren't ready to say goodbye to your little star.

For a moment, it was silent between the two of you. There weren't words that Lee Minho could say to make you feel better. Whatever you did need though, he would stick by your side and provide for you.

Knock knock

Both you and Minho seemed to stop breathing. Your hands stilling on your dog. The door pushed open, revealing the vet who wore a comforting smile. Your vet admitted she was saddened by the circumstances. Your little star seemed to have captured the hearts of everyone who interacted with him. "I'm glad you could join us, Mr. Lee," she spoke softly. "Are you two ready?"

Prior, the vet had allowed you time to say goodbye to your dog. You also asked if it was okay to wait for Minho to arrive. "Whatever you need. I'll be around in a little to check in," was what she told you.

You both nodded your heads as you looked down at your sweet boy. He fought as hard as he could. "You can either stay or you can leave. Whatever brings you the most comfort." You immediately pick your head up to look at the vet, shaking your head. Your comfort right now didn't matter. There was no way you were going to leave your baby boy alone.

The vet understood immediately before stepping to the side, allowing the vet technician in. She gently pushed the cart into the room, carrying the needles and medication they would use during the procedure.

"We'll get started." The room was silent, it was still. You and Minho kept caressing your dog's fur, trying to pour in as much love and comfort as you could. You could not even given to fathom what might be going through your dog, but you sped you were easing some of the pain.

To help ease your own, Minho's thumb caressed your lower back. He continued to press kisses into the side of your face and head. His kisses melted into your skin. It made you appreciative for such a partner like him. He would travel the galaxy for you, and you would do the same for him.

You couldn't dare watch the nurse inject a needle into your dog. You kept your eyes on your dog's face, seeing as he didn't wince at the needle. He didn't wince or try to squirm away. You looked at Minho who was also looking at you.

You two had each other. Through thick and thin.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Author's Note: I wrote this lil piece after realizing it's been one year since my parents had to put down my childhood dog. I truly believe Minho would be the best person to comfort you during such a hard time 🩷

#lee know x reader #lee know #lee minho #lee minho x reader #lee know x y/n #skz lee know #lee know x you #lee minho x y/n #skz lee minho #lee minho x you #skz scenarios #skz #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #atinystraynstay #kpop #fanfic

[meatonfork]

How do you think 141 would take care of grim if they got sick? And would grim take care of the team when they got sick? Price probably has a really loud dad sneeze :o

I really love your writing but make sure you don't burn out from working so hard!! <3

Sick Days

————————————————————————————————————————

pairings: platonic 141 x grim

warnings: none i believe

summary: hc's of grim taking care of the boys and vice versa when sick

----------------------------------------

Ghost

when grim is sick

he isn't outward with his affection, he never really is

will sneak into grim's room to place food on their desk or nightstand while they're sleeping

if the sickness requires medicine, bet your ass he's sneaking that shit in there too

will lightly pet their hair out of their face

pulls the blankets up when they almost fall off the bed

if grim is super sick, they will require cuddles and ghost will hesitantly oblige

holds their hair back as they throw up

grim notices everything he does

just because they're sick doesn't mean they're incompetent or unaware

when ghost is sick

is aware he isn't the most affectionate

they try to reciprocate the silent gestures back because they know he'll appreciate it more than outward caring

will let him use their favorite blanket

is very surprised when he let's grim turn on a movie and cuddle with him

if he throws up, grim will wait patiently in his room until he's done so they can shove water down his throat

----------------------------------------

Soap

when grim is sick

he will make fun of them

"well, why'd you get sick in the first place, dummy?"

"fuck off soap."

even if grim doesn't want them (which is rare), he will force cuddles

gets everything they ask for, but makes it seem like such a draining task

cringes when grim throws up.

will not look them in the eye while helping them

throws a rag at them so they can clean them-self

when soap is sick

a whiny baby

thinks it's the end of the fucking world

grim gets so fed up, but is patient

when soap is sick, he gets really sweaty, so grim is very reluctant in sick soap cuddles

ends up covered in his snot tissues and almost throws up

pets his hair because he falls asleep faster

makes sure there is a bowl by his bed at all times in case he throws up again

----------------------------------------

Gaz

when grim is sick

grim has him wrapped around their little finger

does everything they ask- no hesitation

"yes, grim. yes." salutes as he rushes off to get water

makes sure their bed is the comfiest thing they will ever lay on

fluffs the pillows

washes the blankets

crowds them with stuffed animals

puts on their favorite movie and sleeps with them

when grim throws up, gaz is right next to them

holding their hair, rubbing circles in their back, and whispering reassuring words in their ears

if grim is too tired to get up from the floor, he will carry them back to bed

when gaz is sick

gaz has grim wrapped around his finger

gives him the best treatment because he does the same to them

"yes, gaz. yes." salutes as they rush off to get new socks

gives him the best cuddles he's ever received

he is putty in their hands

when gaz throws up, grim almost cries because they feel so bad for him

helps him back to bed and lets him just put his dead weight on them

----------------------------------------

Price

when grim is sick

full dad mode

takes temperature every 30 minutes

forces medicine down

will help grim into a cold shower when their temperature is way too high

chicken noodle and crackers is all he will feed them

"it's the best remedy, kid. let me do my job."

will cuddle, but not for long

when grim throws up, he is totally unfazed and has a towel ready to clean off their face for them

helps grim change clothes

when price is sick

he is also a baby who whines

grim also only gives him chicken noodle and crackers

"it's the best remedy, cap."

he does not appreciate being mocked like this

when price throws up, they clean up his beard and mustache but almost vomits them-self

but, they care too much to not do it

----------------------------------------

a/n : thank you for reading!! <3

#grim au #john price #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #soap cod #ghost #john price x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #cod #cod mw2 imagine #ghost cod #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw22 #mw2 #141 x reader #task force 141 #kyle gaz garrick x reader

[tealfloyd]

Not sure if you're taking requests. But I have a strong weakness for these prompts where the mc changes for each dorm. So I gotta ask for something similar. For the each non human characters, the MC changes to their animal counterpart. Like for Azul, MC is stuck as an octopus or for Ruggie they're a hyena.

Love these prompts and you write them really well!

A ZOO-OTIC DAY

"MC's part of the exhibitions now~"

SUMMARY: MC collides with a student, accidentally touching one of his potions, unbeknownst of the troubling effects that this would cause. (Savanaclaw, Octavinelle and Malleus x Fem!Reader).

WARNINGS: MC almost dies in Octavinelle part due to her being an eel out of water. Stressing and a crying bit (while being a dragon) in Diasomnia's part.

CONTENT: Am I pampering Malleus? Yes, I am. MC transforms into a lioness, a hyena, a wolf, an octopus, an eel and a dragon, in that order. Only these seven because they're the only ones that classify as non-human that have animal counterparts. Imagine MC's dragon form as Light Fury (How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World) because I saw a meme of Malleus doing the Toothless's mating dance and I never let it go. WORDS: 4K+

A/N: Hello dear anon~! Thank you for the compliment, I'm very happy you liked my writings!

This was a fun request! But it's more of a short story (that I'm not very proud of-) than reactions since it was easier to write; I still hope you like it though!

The plot isn't that good, but I swear that I tried my best to make this work- And I may have arranged some things to conveniently help the plot, but in my defence... It's a magical world.

Now onto the fic~

Ah, Night Raven College. One of the most prestigious magic academies for young boys and a magicless girl, overflowing with talent and... Disaster.

But this time it wasn’t caused by our main cast, no, no, no. This time it was made by a clueless student that was passing by.

You were walking down the hallway, alone and distracted, heading to Savanaclaw by petition of Jack, when all of the sudden, you collided with someone, the crash sounding like it came out of a cartoon.

“Ouch!” You both exclaimed in pain, falling to the floor which was covered with papers and some potions.

“I’m sorry, I—" He stopped as he looked at you, realising who he just crashed with. “By the Sevens. I’m very sorry, Prefect!” He made an apologetic bow, positioning himself so it would be more respectful.

“Please, there’s no need. It was an accident," you said, chuckling slightly at his politeness. “I crashed with you too, so please forgive me," you also made a bow, helping him with all the work that was scattered on the floor. “Let me help you with this, is the least I can do."

The boy blushed at that, shyly evading your gaze. “Thank you, Prefect," he muttered, lifting some of the bottles.

“There you go," you passed him the now neatly organised carpets, making sure he was able to hold everything. “Want me to help you carry these?”

He shook his head, thinking about the reactions of your scary and powerful friends if they found you were passing your time helping him, and what’s worse, that you collided with him. “It’s okay, I can do it," he didn’t dare to look at you, making a quick bow while apologising, again, hurriedly leaving.

“Well, that was strange…” You muttered, also leaving so you could be in time for your appointment with the beastman, feeling a ticklish sensation on your hand, absentmindedly scratching it.

It was then when the student noted that one of the test tubes was empty, inspecting it to see if there were remains of the potion. “Where did it…” He looked at you, seeing you scratching your hand before rounding the corner. “Oh no."

SAVANACLAW — LIVING ROOM

“Sevens, who cleaned that floor?” You uttered, still scratching your hand while walking towards the main building.

You sat on the sofa while texting Jack that you arrived, waiting for him patiently until you heard a familiar, cheeky voice.

“Well, if it isn’t the Prefect," exclaimed Ruggie, walking closer to you. “What brings you here?”

“Oh— Hi, Ruggie," you greeted him, earning one of his characteristics laughs in return. “I'm waiting for Jack."

Your response caught him off guard, looking confused. “Jack? Why Jack?”

“We're going to the library since we're working on a project together," you said, a little taken aback by the sudden question.

“So, it's just a group project then," he muttered, looking more relieved.

“Ah, MC," said Jack, lifting an eyebrow at the scene. “And Ruggie."

A third voice added himself into the conversation, coming from a grumpy lion beastman, groggily walking to the living room. “I see you’re here, herbivore."

“Ah, yes. I’m sorry if I disturbed you," you bowed slightly. “Maybe Jack and I should go so you can continue, uh— Napping?”

This is certainly not what Leona nor Ruggie were expecting, but Jack wasn’t complaining, happy that he was going to spend some time with you.

“You are right, we can finish at the end of the afternoon if we start now," he said, ready to walk out of the lounge when his dorm leader noticed something.

“What happened to your hand?”

“Ah, this?" You looked at your hand. "It’s nothing, it's just a scratch from when I fell on my way here," you responded, brushing it off.

“You fell on your way here?” Ruggie questioned.

“It was nothing, the floor was a bit slippery, that’s all." You were starting to become nervous, not wanting to talk about the earlier incident to cover up for the innocent student.

“Let me see it," said Leona, approaching so he could inspect your hand.

“It’s nothing, really," you didn’t argue when he lifted it up, seeing the red spot and the redness because of all the scratching.

“You really are careless," he muttered, moving to get a better angle, accidentally touching your skin with his forearm.

At that moment, everything went black for you for a few seconds, a veil of smoke covering your form.

“MC?!” The three screamed in panic, trying to dissipate the fog so they could check if you were okay.

You were okay, but not human MC okay, more like lioness MC okay.

 “A lioness…?” Jack muttered, dumfounded.

“Did MC just transform into a lioness…?" Continued Ruggie, sharing the same expression as his underclassman.

All of them were panicking, but Leona was the only one who was calmer (on the outside, inside, he's panicking just as much as them) than his dorm members.

He crouched to be at eye level with you, deeply exhaling before speaking. “MC, what did you touch?”

You tried to respond, alarmed because the only sound you could make was roars.

“Hey, it’s okay. We can understand you, just keep talking," encouraged Ruggie, also crouching down.

You tried to communicate, hoping that it was enough for them to understand.

“’Maybe I touched a potion by accident’?” Jack remarked, which you nodded, glad that he understood. “At class?”

“’I don’t think so…’” Ruggie said, confused. “What do you mean you don’t think so?”

“’I think I touched a student’s potion by accident when I crashed onto him earlier’” Leona repeated, annoyance showing in his voice. “And why didn't you tell us?”

You went serious for a moment, giving them the look before saying that you didn't want them to go after him, to which they only scoffed, knowing very well that what you were saying was true.

“We have to find a way to get her back to normal," Jack said, starting to brainstorm ideas to solve this problem.

Ruggie checked your paw, which still had the red dot, and the moment he did the smoke appeared again, converting you into a hyena.

“What did you do?!” Asked Jack, concern washing over his voice.

“Nothing! I just touched her paw!” Ruggie defended himself, also concerned.

“You shouldn’t have touched her paw in the first place!” Leona bickered.

Sighing, you sat down, frustrated that you always seem to be stuck in this type of situations, thinking about who to ask that could solve this, all while watching the beastmen fighting over who was to blame for.

‘Are you done?’ You asked, completely serious, doing what you could to raise an eyebrow.

They immediately stopped arguing, understanding that that wouldn't help you transform into a human again.

“We should tell a professor about this," Jack suggested, gaining three collective sighs from you and their upperclassmen.

“Have you forgot?”

“They are not coming back until tomorrow morning.”

‘They are in a meeting with the Royal Sword Academy teachers,' you finally said, making the boy blush in embarrassment.

“We need to look for someone who knows how to revert this…” Ruggie commented, trying to think of someone aside from the teachers who could help you.

“What about Vil? Pomefiore is known for their potion making skills," proposed Jack, and you shook your head.

‘He’s out for the day. He told me he will be doing an important photoshoot; so even if we call him is likely he wouldn’t not answer.'

“Great, the beauty freak is out, and the teachers are in a meeting. What next?”.

‘I think that Azul may know how to fix this,' you said, making Leona grunt in denial.

‘We have to go to the Mostro Lounge.'

He clicked his tongue, deciding that it was wiser to not say anything, instead helping you walk with your new legs.

Due to the trembling, all you could do was wiggle, accidentally resting your paw on Jack’s forearm, transforming into a wolf, falling back because of the shock.

“Jack!” They both exclaimed, making said boy retrieve your new paw from his forearm as if it would poison you.

‘It’s okay. It’s not like it can get any worse, so let’s leave it like that,' you calmed them down, trying to shift your weight from one leg to the other, maintaining a steady balance as you exited Savanaclaw.

OCTAVINELLE — MOSTRO LOUNGE

You three arrived at Octavinelle with a painfully slow pace, trying to help you the best they could without touching your paw.

“We’re finally here," said Ruggie, exhaling in relief upon seeing the establishment’s sign.

‘Guys, I don’t want to seem exasperated, but can you just push that door?’ You asked, and Jack complied, letting you four enter to the restaurant.

You were wary, hiding behind the three beastmen before Azul and Jade conveniently appeared.

”My, if it isn't our Savanaclaw acquaintances," proclaimed the dorm leader. "What can I do for you?"

"We have a huge problem right here," said Ruggie, already annoyed by their attitude.

“Oh? And are you here to ask for our help?” Jade asked, smile growing wider.

“The problem… Has to be with MC," Jack said, still covering your form along with Leona so they would have time to explain.

Their faces fell at that, turning serious upon listening that their friend love interest was having a problem.

“Is the Prefect in danger?” Asked Azul, fixing his glasses, trying to mask his concern with politeness.

“They're not, but they’re different now," commented Leona.

“Different... You say?” Inquired Jade, sincerely not knowing what they were talking about.

They moved aside to reveal you, still in your wolf form, looking at them intently.

“And the problem involves this wolf?” Questioned Jade, while Azul backed away slightly out of fear.

“The wolf is MC," they finally said, making the Octavinelle students widen their eyes, not believing them.

“Are you telling me that the Prefect… Transformed into a wolf…?” Azul glasses nearly fall from the shock, fortunately pushing them back in time.

“First into a lioness, then a hyena and finally a wolf," Leona added. “Think you can solve this?"

“I’m afraid I will need more information…” He managed to let out, intending to say that he needed time to process this.

“MC, is this really you?” Asked Jade, crouching down to match your height, looking at your eyes.

‘Unfortunately, I am MC,' you answered, thinking that if he asked, he could understand you, which he did.

“My, how did you end up in this situation…?”

“They crashed with a student who had a potion that caused this," Leona answered, already done with all the questions. “Can you help her or not?”

Azul cleared his throat before speaking, finally regaining his (well, most of it) composure, bending down in front of you. “I need to see how the potion works; did you say she transformed into a lioness, a hyena and a wolf?”

“Yes, the moment we touched her hand, er— Paw, she transformed," said Jack, inspecting their intentions.

“I never saw a potion that does this… Have you tried talking to Vil?”

‘He’s in a photoshoot right now.'

“I see…” Azul stopped for a second, thinking until something clicked on his mind. “May I see the paw you all touched?”

‘It’s this one. What do you think about it?’

“It left a mark," said Jade, trying to think of substances that could have caused it. “I think her skin didn’t react the way it was intended to."

“MC, can I touch your paw?” Azul asked, wanting to confirm a hypothesis.

‘Sure, if it’s going to help,' you passed your paw to him, and he removed his glove, hesitantly grazing his finger over the red spot.

Two seconds after the action, a smoke covered you again, revealing that your wolf form changed into an octopus’s one, and at that precise moment Floyd entered the café, not really noticing you at first because of his height.

“Huh?” He looked at the three Savanaclaw students, smile growing wider. “What are the Savanaclaw fishies doing here~?”

“Floyd, you may want to see this," said his twin brother, and he looked down to find what he thought was a cute octopus.

“Oh?” He let out a surprise noise, replacing it with giggles. “Where did this octopus come from~? Hey Azul, can I cook it~?”

You silently screamed. 'Please don’t Floyd, I assure you I’m not tasty,' you exclaimed, backing away from him the best you could.

“Huh? How do you know my name, little octopus~?” He crouched closer to you, scaring you even more.

“It’s because it’s the Prefect,” Azul finally said, finally standing up after seeing what the potion did, putting his glove on.

“Eh?” Floyd’s brain paused for a second before realising what he just said, now yelling. “Eh?! Shrimpy?!”

‘Yes Floyd, I’m MC, now, can you please not eat me?’ You were relieved he believed his house warden, trying to use your tentacles to move with futile results.

“Wah! How did you end up as an octopus?!” He started to touch your head, curious of how you did this.

“It seems that the potion makes her transform into each animal of the non-humans she touches," stated Azul, sighing before saying the next sentence. “Unfortunately, this is advanced alchemy; we can't make her touch or drink something else without guaranteeing it would affect her permanently."

“So, you can’t bring her back to normal," summarized Ruggie, frustrated at the outcome. “Then what should we do?”

“First, we have to stop touching her hand— Well, tentacles, to not cause further damage—“ He was cut off by the smoke indicating that someone had touched you, knowing at the exact moment who did it. “Floyd…”

“Sorry~” He apologised, looking down at your new form, noticing which animal was just a second after. “Oh! Shrimpy transformed into an eel!”

You squirmed on the floor, trying to breathe, hoping they would get that if you weren’t on water right now you would die.

“Aren’t eels supposed to be… In the water?” Ruggie pointed out, making all of them instantly panic.

“OH SHIT!” Floyd rushed over to the tank, hurriedly opening it so Azul and Jade could drop you into it, deeply exhaling after making you almost die.

“Why did you have to touch her?!” Azul scolded, trying to control his breathing after the whole experience.

“I didn’t know that she would transform! You never tell me anything!” He defended himself, although he had to admit that he felt a bit guilty.

“There is no time to fight over this," said Jade, trying to calm them down for once. “We still have to find a way to get the Prefect back to normal."

“Eh~? But Shrimpy’s very cute as an eel~” Floyd whined, not really understanding the gravity of the situation.

“Floyd, do you understand that if she stays like an eel she wouldn’t pet your hair?” That sole phrase was enough for him to change his mind-set.

“We have to find a way to get Shrimpy back to normal!”

“And how do we do that? The teachers are in a meeting, Vil’s out and there’s no guarantee she wouldn’t stay like this forever," said Jack, making everyone think about how it would be their life without you in it.

‘I think that there’s only one option,' you started to talk, confused for your new way of breathing. ‘We have to go to Diasomnia.'

“Do you mean… Asking Malleus for help?” Asked Jade, which you nodded your head.

‘I think he is the only one that can truly help me go back to normal,' you said, kind of enjoying swimming with a tailfin.

“So, we have to go to the lizard for help then…” Leona mumbled, and although it would seem like he didn’t share the idea, he actually thought it was the best one so far.

“We need to transport MC for that…” Azul thought about it for a moment, asking the tweels for help. “I think you would fit here… Mostly, at least."

And then, after somehow fitting in the medium fish tank, you all walked over to Diasomnia, hoping that the dragon-fae would aid you.

DIASOMNIA — GARDEN

“Prefect? Are you okay in there?” Asked Azul, checking that you were comfortable with the fish tank they fitted you in.

‘I’m okay, but I’m more concerned about them’,'you answered, talking about the four men that were lifting you to keep you from falling.

“I assure you they’re fine, that’s what their muscles are for anyway," he said, looking for Malleus in the garden.

“Don’t speak on our behalf," Jack complained, steading himself after almost tripping.

‘Oh, he’s there,' you tried to point with your nose, or your tailfin… You pointed to the man who was calmly reading, his frame making it easier for all of the men to spot him.

Azul went first, deciding that he was the most befitting out of you all to explain the situation, trying to not enrage him since he knew about his feelings for you.

“Malleus," he said, attracting the attention the fae, who looked away from his book to look at him.

“Ashengrotto, what brings you here?” He asked, closing his book so he could listen to what he had to say.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, but we require your help," he signalled the others behind him, and raised a brow at the container, thinking that it was something humans tend to do, which is not, but is not like he knows about it. “You see; the Prefect has been engaged in… Quite a situation."

His face showed concern, but not enough that it would cause a storm, intently waiting for Azul’s explanation.

“She touched a potion that makes her change into different animals depending on who touches her, so she’s currently…” He pointed at you, sighing. “An eel."

“I… Don’t quite get it," he finally said, looking at your sea form as he processed the new information.

‘Hello, Tsunotarou,' you said, impressed that he widened his eyes at that, an indicator that he understood what you’ve just said. ‘As Azul said, I’m a moray eel now.'

“Child of Man…?” He hesitantly asked, inspecting you. “What happened?”

‘I accidentally touched a potion that makes me change to different animals, or something like that,' you also didn’t get your position, but tried to explain it nonetheless. ‘Can you help me go back to normal?’

“I…” This was one of the few times Malleus was too stunned to speak, at least in front of you, seemingly thinking about what he could do to help. “Of course, I may have a potion that could fix this."

“You do?!” All of you screamed at once, happy that this was going to end soon.

You jumped in excitement, going a bit too far as you unintentionally came out of water, tailfin (which had the now unique red spot on it) touching Malleus hand due to his proximity.

You didn’t notice until it was too late, knowing that the change was about to happen once you felt the sensation of the transformation, jumping out of water in a panic, not wanting to hurt them since you knew you were going to transform into a dragon next.

And you did; vision fogging for a few seconds until you saw that you were now huge compared to your friends, trying to control your tail and wings, that were fluttering because of the shock.

“MC!” They all screamed, concerned because you seemed very stressed, thinking of what to do to help you.

“Back away," Malleus said, which they complied, trusting his ability. “You have to search the potion in my room; it has an emerald tone and it’s situated on my library," he gave them the instructions to get to his room, not really caring about who was going for it, instead focusing on you.

You were pretty stressed; being transformed into a normal animal was one thing. It was something that could happen any day in alchemy class with Ace, Deuce and Grim, but this was nothing like that.

Maybe it was the fact that for you, dragons were considered mythical until you arrived here, or the feeling that you were going to stay like this forever. Whatever ended up being, you felt the lingering sensation to cry, panic building inside of you.

Your tears were streaming down your new face when you felt something warm nuzzling against your head. You blinked your tears away to try and identify it, eyes connecting with very familiar green eyes, which belonged to another dragon.

‘Malleus…?’ You asked, and he nodded his head, shifting closer to you. ‘Is this… Your dragon form…?’ It was a stupid question, and you knew it, but your over-stressed brain didn’t really think about it before speaking at that time.

Still, he didn’t seem to mind, chuckling lightly. ‘Indeed. Do you not like it?’ He inquired, and although it sounded like a teasing remark, he was scared that this impulsive action may cause you to back away from him due to his "monstrous" form.

He was, by all means, incorrect. ‘No, I think it’s cute…' You managed to say, his presence calming you down.

‘Cute?’ He asked, setting his head on top of yours, covering your wings with his own in order to calm you down.

‘Ah, sorry, was I not supposed to say that…?’ You were starting to panic again, thinking that you did something wrong, leading Malleus to apply more force to keep you from exasperating again.

‘I think that cute it’s not what most people think when looking at a dragon,' he nudged his head into yours, sitting down so you could lean on him, relieved that you seemed more at peace.

‘Yeah, maybe you’re right…’ You accommodated your legs into a more comfortable position, letting your head rest on the crook of his neck.

His sole presence made you calm down to the point where you fell asleep, light snores being the only sound that came out of your mouth, along with a little bit of smoke.

While all of this ensued, the students on the ground wondered what the hell just happened, and since the school doesn't really teach 'dragon language', the only thing they saw was the two of you roaring and grunting at each other, utterly confused by this.

“Does anyone know how to speak dragon?” Asked Ruggie.

“Are they even talking?” Commented Leona.

“I can’t believe all of this happened in the span of one afternoon," complained Azul.

“Isn’t Sea Slug like, very close to Shrimpy?” Whined Floyd.

“Is that what you think after this?” Jade said, thinking about what his twin just exclaimed. “Although they sure are a bit too close…”

When Jack finally arrived with the potion, Malleus had to lift your paw due to the immense force that it would require for them to do it, lulling you to sleep when you showed signs of waking up.

After it was done, they had to wait for around fifteen seconds until it made effect, a veil of white smoke appearing for the last time combined with Malleus's green one, revealing the two of you leaning against each other, clothes slightly damaged due to the transformation.

You were so tired that you didn’t woke up even after they argued over who should carry you over to Ramshackle; Malleus ended up winning the fight since he could teleport, treating you as if you were a feather, setting you down softly on your bed.

He decided that it would be better if he stayed in the living room, afraid of what could happen if he left you alone after such a wild experience.

The day after the whole situation, you went to classes like normal, having to endure so many questions coming from your friends since people were talking about how you transformed into different animals, clearly thinking they missed a key adventure.

You said that it was a long story, and it certainly was.

THE END~

DON'T REPOST.

EVERY CHARACTER BELONGS TO DISNEY AND YANA TOBOSO AND I DON'T TAKE CREDIT FOR THEM.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #jack howl x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #malleus draconia x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #mc/yuu #mc twisted wonderland

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Steve Harrington never thought he'd become passionate about photography, but here he was, crouching with a camera in the bushes, slowly waiting for the sun to set.

It was kind of funny - first he was a grade A douchebag in high school, then he got his girlfriend kind of rightfully stolen by Jonathan Byers, but instead of going deeper in to the asshole territory, he really tried to be better. One part of that was hanging out with Nancy and Jonathan sometimes, just drinking, joking and marvelling at how he got two good friends out of a shitty situation.

Jonathan asked him to snap a picture of him and Nancy to send to his mom when the four of them, his best friend Robin included, visited a local fair, and walked him through the very dumbed down basics - how to choose the angle, keep the picture sharp, composition, all of that.

And Steve fell in love.

He started observing Jonathan when he was working, snapping pictures for the local newspaper. And Jonathan was so patient with him, always commenting on what he was doing, even waiting for Steve to take notes.

On his next birthday, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan got him his first camera.

Finally free of his high school persona, Steve began feeling much more at ease just observing, not participating. Unlike Jonathan who found beauty in people and social interactions, Steve decided to focus on the nature.

Several years later, he was a wildlife photographer and he loved his job. He loved the challenge, the wait, the best shots and the worst ones too, with blurry curious animals nibbling on his hair or his shorts.

He was still trying to get out of his comfort zone, always challenging himself. And today, the subject of his shoot were bats, mysterious, misunderstood and absolutely cute.

Steve readied his camera at the flapping of wings. Slow. Patient. Don't rush it.

Two hours in, he was convinced that there was no more adorable thing in this world than a yawning bat. He was about to finish for the night and go home, take a hot shower, but one of the bats was making the cutest poses, almost...winking? Steve couldn't stop taking more and more shots.

He had no idea how it happened, but there was a quiet whoosh and where the bat was, suddenly a slim, pale man stood, with wild long hair and a seductive grin. Also, he was naked. Yep.

"No need to hide. If you wanted a picture, all you had to do was ask, pretty boy," the man said and approached Steve, flashing him a grin...a grin with very sharp, white canines.

Instead of something logical, like running away or fainting, Steve licked his lips and raised his camera. "Um. Consider this me asking?"

The man - Eddie, as he later introduced himself - stared at him blankly, then started laughing and Steve joined him, too loud in the quiet of the night.

In the morning, Steve found himself in a warm bed, with a memory card full of very marketable bat pictures and some private ones too, for his eyes only.

As Eddie nuzzled against his neck and the two tiny wounds there, Steve thought that yep, he definitely loved his job.

#steddie #steddie au #eddie munson #steve harrington #vampire eddie munson #stranger things au #stranger things drabble #steddie drabble #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #also in this AU Steve really was a bit of an asshole #and no unsolicited pictures of Nancy and Steve were taken in this modern au

[faeflowerz]

The First Years Crushing on their Upperclassman (PT 1)

I think it'd be cute. Besides, the first years are absolutely adorable and I would die for them. I would. They're honestly my favorite group bc of how well they play off of each other.

Warnings: Characters thirsting for people older than them, Me thirsting for anime boys in general

Characters: Deuce, Ace, Jack

Deuce having a crush on his upperclassmen would be pretty adorable. He's already fidgety around girls so when he's got a crush on someone, it will show. He remembers how it happened. Deuce was running late for homeroom and crashed into you, sending all your stuff scattering to the floor. He's apologizing over and over again as he helped you pick everything up. Then, he bowed and you giggled. Deuce is so serious sometimes and you find it cute. You patted his head, letting your hand linger just a bit as you considered how soft his silky hair is. "It's fine, sweetie."

From there, he's a mess any time he interacts with you. Sweaty, blushy, tongue tied, the works. You'd think it was a romance anime with the way he's acting.

"U-uh, senpai, I w-wanted to ask if...you could tutor me sometime? I mean...well..."

"Senpai! I g-got this from the Mystery Shop! You don't have to accept it if...huh? You will?"

"If...you're not busy...I have a track meet after school...if you'd like to come..."

Yes, our usually bold n brash recovering delinquent is really into you. And you stand there smiling and waiting patiently for him to make it through his sentences. You've started to crush on him too, actually. He's always so passionate and earnest and admittedly, you had been checking him out long before you officially met. It's Deuce that confesses first, but he blurts it out as if he'd explode if he didn't.

Ace is shameless with his crush on Senpai. We expect nothing less from him. His boyish charm is insanely attractive and it carries him for the most part. Light brushes of your arm, winking at you and some other stuff I'm sure he asked his brother for advice on. He's had a gf before so this should be easy, right? Right?

HAH! His senpai is going to make him work for it. You volley back a lot of his flirting, and when you're unexpectedly playing the same game, he's speechless. Your touches linger, you get into his personal space, you talk to him like he's a clumsily little boy. It's all maddening and exciting to him.

"Ace, you know better than to talk to me like that. Did you talk to your lil girlfriend that way too?" You purr softly as you tug lightly on his tie. Now, he's blushing so hard that his heart tattoo nearly matches the rest of his face. Personally, I hc that ADeuce are into older people/attractive to older people respectively. Like I said, their boyish personalities are just too fuckin cute.

Ah, anyways, Ace is speechless and it's you who finally confesses. He's your new pet and training him is the best part of your relationship.

Jack crushes on his upperclassmen and it's literally puppy love. He thinks the way you carry yourself is inspirational. You breeze through the school with your head held high and secretly, Jack thinks youre cooler than Leona. When you brush past him once, he's particularly interested in the way you smell. I think he's into scents. He's gotta be. Anyway, if it's shampoo, cologne or just your natural body, Jack is really really into it. So much so that he knows where you are pretty often. Sometimes he follows you or his tail wags when he's doing something else. Like, literally you turn the corner before he comes into the hallway and his ears are alert and he's sniffing the air. Very low key about it though.

So the period goes fine until you're listening to instructions. Jack's by your side and Vargas is going on and on. You're bored to tears until you feel something twhap twhap twhapping on your butt. You nearly jump out of your skin until you realize that nobody's behind you. Is it a ghost? They like to bother people during gym the most.

He must get closer to you. The scant scent trails aren't enough. When you officially meet, its through a crossover class for PE. You're not abysmal, but having a good buddy for the period would be essential. Before you can assess who you want, Jack is awkwardly standing next to you. "Do you...need a partner?" And when you say yes, you see his eyes light up. Was he...surprised that you agreed?

Until you subtly glance behind you. Jack's tail is hitting you! Its so fucking cute that you stifle a laugh. He heard you and it clicks that he was thumping your ass. Once Vargas shuts up, Jack is trying to find a way to apologize to you but you stopped him. "It's alright, I'm not upset. Besides, it makes me happy to see you excited. You like being around me, don't you?"

"...Yeah...I kind of do..." when you reach out to pat his head, he's surprised and extremely flustered. "H-huh?!"

"You're such a good boy, Jack. I like being around you too." From there, you seal the deal even though he sort of confesses first.

#twisted wonderland #twst #faes drabbles #ace trappola #jack howl #deuce spade #twst x reader #reader insert #ace trappola x reader #jack howl x reader #deuce spade x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #yumejoshi #yumedanshi #writing

[ghcstao3]

I saw your tags, you have challenged me!

Scary Show AU (cw for cannibalism and murder)

Ghost is a very well-known yet still semi-anonymous Voice Actor for spooky shit. There's a huge following for him because, regardless of what role he's playing, he does a phenomenal job. He's only listed in the cast list as "S.R.Ghost"

Typically he plays the role of the creatures in this super popular show called "Cryptid Season" which follows a gang of college kids desperate for extra credit in their Biology class so they hunt cryptids as evidence/to study for their papers. He does the voice over and some of the motion capture (he's a big dude) for the monsters and such, his most famous one being "Goatman" (from the demonic Goatman's bridge in I think Texas?)

Meanwhile Soap is this animator who's starting to become really popular, and he announces a new show in the work: "Consume", where he voices one of the two lead roles. It's presented as a show about a normal, if not very lonely man, being tormented by a demonic presence in his home.

Plot twist: dude's actually a cannibalistic serial killer and ends up quickly befriending the demon. The demon helps make the man harder to track by police forces in exchange for the bones and souls of his victims.

Cast:

Soap as the killer

Ghost as the demonic entity

Gaz as a detective who's new to the case but also best friends with Soap's character

Price voices the seasoned detective who's been working this case "too damn long"

Ghost and Soap ABSOLUTELY fall in love while recording scenes together. The banter, the flirting, the sexy scenario of cutting up a corpse together; it's too much not to fall in love irl

(actually such a big brain idea but I don't know how you'd write it tbh lmao. Maybe the show itself, where the boys keep their names? Idk the original idea turned into something much greater)

took a minute to figure something out i'm ngl but i did. something (in any case i would love to see your proper takes(s) if you'd be up to it, seeing as it's your idea!! i feel like i couldn’t do it justice)

-

Just like any other actor, Ghost had to audition for the role.

His agent books it for him without consultation, knowing the project would be right up his alley—horror, monsters, no face required—and Ghost makes no argument in sending in his tape. He recognizes this process and takes no issue with it, and once out of his hands, he waits patiently for a congratulatory offer or a gentle rejection.

Just like any other movie, or show, or what have you. Consume is no different.

Supposedly. At first.

John "Soap" MacTavish is... many things. He's charming, according to most. Talented. A joy to be around. A man who wears more than several hats of a project, which certainly tells of someone trying to worm their way into the commercial industry.

He has the spirit and creativity, Ghost will allow him that. But he also doesn't know when to stop talking as soon as the important work is done.

Is Soap professional? Sure. Does Soap make sure all jobs are done with efficiency and done well? Yes, he does. Does it make him any less of a nuisance to Ghost? Absolutely not.

But Ghost would be damned if the project doesn’t find its way into his soft spots, despite its nature. He’d be damned if he doesn’t fall in love with Soap’s animations and the hard work and craft he puts into them.

Then he blinks, and the pilot is premiering. It does well (again, considering its content), and Consume is properly green-lit.

Which is when Soap proposes the idea of recording their lines in the same room. Together. Facing one another. Because banter, and chemistry, and whatever other reasons he insists upon.

Personally, Ghost wants to decline. He’s always felt somewhat awkward when recording as such with anyone, but professionally? He couldn’t really say no, could he?

And it is awkward, at first. There’s more takes than usual, and Ghost can sense Soap’s frustration, though the man never expresses it. He just plasters on a tight smile, calls for a break, and pulls Ghost aside.

Surely, surely this is where Ghost gets fired. This is where Ghost is told he’s going to be replaced, where he’s told to say goodbye to Gaz and Price and wish them luck, and move onto his next gig. This is where—

“Have I done something wrong?”

Soap’s face is so earnest. So painfully sincere.

Ghost clenches his jaw. Shakes his head.

“No, I—“ He sighs. “Just have to get used to the… face-to-face. Let’s—I’ll try again.”

Soap smiles wider, now, as he nods, something kind and warm and brilliant.

The second try goes much smoother. Ghost takes a deep breath and eases himself into scripted dialogue, into witty banter and subtle flirts like it’s any other project.

They continue to record lines as such, just the two of them, each episode at a time. At some point, Ghost worries, the line between script and show and reality gets blurred. At some point, he fears, that flirting becomes genuine.

And what would he know—the reviews only get better as that line becomes less and less clear. Natural, real-feeling dialogue, critics say. The relationship is authentic, claim viewers.

The love is actually heartfelt.

And fuck, if that doesn’t make Ghost realize a few things about himself.

About Soap.

Consume is no different, his ass. He might have to have a stern talk with his agent in the near future.

(Or not.)

#ask #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #soap mw2 #ghost x soap #ghoap #soapghost #ghostsoap #writing #alternate universe

[hopelessdazai]

Hiii! I love your writing, please ignore this if your requests are closed I’m on mobile and sometimes it’s weird with showing symbols and stuff TT could I request fem reader head-canons with dazai,Chuuya and atsushi, basically they haven’t seen eachother in a long time (mission or whatever) and they’re being intimate again but the boys are like way more sensitive since it’s been ages please. Sorry if this doesn’t make sense or some things are wrong English isn’t my first language.

of course anon! I'll do my best . this might be a big one !! I didn't write any scenario sections because the post was already so so long, maybe another day !!

"Missing you" nsfw headcanons

contents ; nsfw, dazai x reader, atsushi x reader, chuuya x reader, reader is fembodied, switch!reader, biting, crying from pleasure, needy needy boys, breeding kink if you squint, biting, oral ( both recieving )

Dazai Osamu -

god he is so touchy with you the exact second you're home. immediately his hands are on you and making you shudder the moment you're through the door. he was so patient waiting, he needs you now so so bad :((

he'd tried to pleasure himself while you were gone but it just didn't do the job like he would've hoped. it was so difficult without you and for sure everyone was hearing about it. (u can slap him it's okay)

he's praising you more then normal, before you went away he'd told himself that he'd do just fine without you but it's really made him realise how much he treasures and needs you. he just loves being close to you!!

you'll hear this multiple times on the list but god he's so loud. as soon as he's inside you he's making sounds you'd barely even heard from him before, whimpers and whines like an animal in heat.

there's definately multiple rounds. good luck trying to get back to work tomorrow, if you're 'lucky' enough he'll coax you into another one in the morning.

he misses so much about you :((. the sounds you make, the way your walls are so warm and inviting, your taste, how soft your skin is. everything like that!! he just loves you so much.

he probably won't be letting you go on another mission for a while. he couldn't handle all that time apart again!!

he cums pretty quickly the first round. he almost forgot how good you feel, so when he's bottomed out inside of you it's almost like reality sets back in.

tears up a little too. he's very very sensitive!! the time away from you was so stressful and having you so close again and like this is too much for him.

Chuuya Nakahara -

he doesn't wanna pressure you back into it and be begging as soon as you get back like dazai does. he gives you time to relax again and cooks dinner before anything. he wants it, so bad, but he's scared to overstep immediately.

he's so lovesick, as soon as you give him the allowance to his hands are on you and his fingers are in you. he wants you to feel good, and hopefully if you feel good enough, you won't leave him again!!

say goodbye to the usual loving pace, you feel so good around him that he can barely control himself. sure, it's passionate, but he's rougher with you then he normally is. he's pent up!!

switching positions so often, he wants to make up for the time lost. one moment you're sat over his face and the next you're face down ass up as he hits deep inside of you.

again as I said, he's louder then usual. he tears up a lot quicker then dazai does, because it just feels so so good to be back inside you again.

he holds you so tight, in this time his favourite sort of positions are generally ones where you can be as close to each other as possible. he for sure would love to half hug you while he fucks you.

your markings he left previous probably wore off in this time, so he's remaking you during the session. he doesn't want to let you free from the constant reminder you're his!!

he doesn't go as many rounds as he usually would, he orgasms a lot quicker due to the time away so he's just trying his best to pleasure you enough to then hold you all night long. fully satisfied and stuffed with his cum :)

so many kisses. be it sloppy or tender, throughout the entire act his lips are on yours. he misses the taste of your tongue, and eating you out can only go so far.

Atsushi Nakajima -

you thought the other boys were loud? rethink after you've heard atsushis volume. he's whining like a wet animal and you better just pray your neighbors aren't hearing it.

if you've ever wanted to peg him this is your chance. he's missed you so badly he'll literally let you do anything with any kink as long as you give him a night.

hes so loving with you !! if you ignore his nails digging into you as he clutches onto you for dear life, he's so soft and tender as he readjusts to the feeling of being in you again.

hes a biter. like very much. much like chuuya, the usual small markings he left are probably faded by now, but he's missed the taste of your skin so much that he can't sinking his teeth into you when near orgasm.

he doesn't cry like the others unless you peg him, and if you do so you'll barely even manage to get a sentence out of him. he is just so sensitive :((

he'll take you anywhere in this time. be it up against a wall, on the couch, over the kitchen countertop or in the usual side of the bed you always do. as long as its with you, he doesn't care !!

he wants to taste you again for sure. you'll have at least a couple rounds where he makes you cum on his tongue, he's so eager with it too.

it's all giving the day you're back. usually he's shyly asking for a blowjob at the end of it, but today it's all you!! ( no denying if you offer though. )

he didn't try to pleasure himself the entire time you were gone. poor baby, it never felt as good as you did, so he decided to keep himself until the day you returned.

I hope you enjoyed!! thank you for all the likes on previous posts. - zai

#bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs imagines #bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs x you #dazai smut #dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #dazai osamu x reader #bungou stray dogs dazai #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #dazai x you #osamu x y/n #osamu x you #osamu x reader #osamudazai #chuuya x reader #bungo stray dogs chuuya #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you #atsushi smut #atsushi x reader #bsd atsushi #bungou stray dogs atsushi #atsushi nakajima

[din-miller]

Grogu's Stuffed Frog

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!reader

Word count: 600+

Summary: You buy Grogu a stuffed frog while on a trip to the marketplace on Nevarro.

Warnings: fluff, reader and Din are the best parents in the Galaxy, His first name is Din, married couple, gender neutral reader, based on a post I saw on tumblr.

"What is that?"

You jumped, arms quick to hide behind your back and you gave your husband a shy smile, "What is what?"

"Mesh'la, tell me that you didn't buy the kid another toy."

"I didn't buy him another toy," You said, which is true, it technically isn't a toy, "It's a stuffed frog!"

"That it is," Din grabbed it from you and flipped it over a few times, "It's heavy."

"It's weighted. The seller said it's good for helping children feel safe. Something about the weight comforting them or something," You explained with a small shrug, "Figured it couldn't hurt to try it out." 

The tip of Din's gloved fingers ran across the soft green fabric, "You have to stop spoiling him. We're going to have to buy a bigger house if you keep coming back with new toys."

"You say that now but you haven't felt how soft it is," You don't even have to reach down for his hand, he's already holding it out for you. You removed his glove and placed a small kiss on his palm, "It's softer than my skin."

"Not possible," Mando declared and stroked one of the frog's legs, "Grogu's in his hammock, he's been waiting patiently for you to come back, almost like he knows he'll be getting a new toy." 

"Yeah, yeah," You smiled, taking back the small stuffed animal and heading to where Grogu is no doubt waiting for you, "He's going to love this!"

"And cyar’ika," Din called and you turned to him, "I was right."

"About what?"

"Your skin is softer."

You tilted your head down towards your chest, trying to hide the blush that spreads across your skin. It's no use, Din is well aware of the effect his words have on you. 

You entered the living room, you had hung up Grogu's hammock here when you first moved into the house. Din was right, the child sat all wide eyed and excited. Upon seeing you he let out a happy coo, which became even louder when his eyes fell upon the small frog in your hand. 

"Hey Bean, have you been good for your dad while I was gone?" You asked picking him up out of his hammock. Grogu curled into the warmth of your body, his tiny hands reaching for the frog. You chuckled and handed it to him.

Behind you Din leaned against the doorway, leg crossed over the other one. His helmet is finally off. Nowadays he only wears it when he's going out or when you've left the house alone. The seconds it takes to put on could cost you your life if you suddenly find yourself in danger. It's a tad dramatic but you expect nothing less from him.

"He likes it." Din guestered to the child who's currently trying to eat the frog's nose.

"You can't eat it you little swamp rat," You scrunched up your nose, trying to dislodge the plastic nose from Grogu's mouth. It took a second but you finally got it free, "Tell your buir that I was right to buy it and that you're not spoiled." 

Din pushed off the door frame and pulled you against his chest, "He's definitely spoiled, but what can you expect from a boy who has the best buir this side of the galaxy." 

"Damn right he does," You leaned back into your husband's embrace, "Maybe one day we can get another frog."

Din nudged the back of your ear with his nose, chuckling when you tried to squirm away, "He doesn't need anymore stuffed animals."

"I don't mean for Grogu." Your voice dropped down to a soft whisper.

Behind you there's a sharp intake of air, Din's fingertips momentarily digging into the flesh of your hips before he's swinging you around to face him, "Cyar’ika, are you saying..."

"I want to raise warriors."

"We're going to raise the strongest warriors; a whole army," Din pulled you in for a kiss, "Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum."

"Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum sa pirusti."

Translation:

"Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum." - I love you

"Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum sa pirusti." - I love you as well

#im not happy with how this turned out but i needed a distraction and i saw a post about how grogu needs a stuffed frog in S4 #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin x gender neutral reader #the mandalorian x reader #married couple | the mandalorian #fluff #justice joy writes #*based off of a tumblr post #sir grogu #din djarin #married couple

[adorethedistance]

First Meet - Jamie Drysdale x Reader

Hockey Masterlist

Warnings: swearing? very PG meet cute

Words: 1020

Summary: First meet - having a meet-cute with Jamie Drysdale in a smoothie shop.

A/n: In an attempt to make up for me being gone for two months, I give you the first installment of the series of firsts. Some other firsts coming soon: first date, first I love you, and first time.

“A seagull is not a predator!” My best friend Chelsea argues as we enter the Jamba Juice of the spectrum center. The line is longer than we’re used to since this is the first time we’ve been here on a Sunday, but the wait doesn’t deter us and we stand patiently in line while we argue.

“What do you mean?! They literally eat fish.”

“Well, yeah. But they’re diving for bites from the ocean, they’re not hunting schools of fish!” She fights back growing increasingly more agitated and amused. The conversation only gets louder as we finally step into the smoothie shop. The long line of other less passionate conversations in tandem with the volume of the blenders has us shouting over the rest of the shop.

“What difference does it make!” I screech out of frustration, unsure of why Chelsea and I are having such a huge disconnect over the issue. We’re furious with each other but we’re also failing not to laugh at the ridiculous nature of the conversation.

“It makes a huge difference actually!” Chelsea huffs a sigh through her undefeated smile.

“Look, all I’m saying is that any animal can be a predator, it just has to try hard enough!” My declaration is immediately followed by a hearty laugh, but not from Chelsea. Turning around, I look over my right shoulder to see a boy around our age, waiting by the end of the counter for his order to be completed. The high contrast of his flowing dark hair and fair complexion is captivating, and a soft ocean blue shimmers in his kind eyes.

“Sorry,” He says earnestly, though he’s still smiling. I exhale a small laugh before replying,

“It’s okay. The argument was ridiculous to begin with,” throwing the pointed comment at Chelsea whose eyebrows raise in shock.

“Yeah. It is. So just give in already!”

“Oh my god. You see what I have to put up with?” I comment on her stubbornness, causing the stranger to laugh once more, and he nods knowingly.

“I feel that. He’s the exact same way,” he says, gesturing to the boy next to him. The comment causes him to turn around, light brown hair flipping with the sharp movement. His friend is cute and all but I find myself still enraptured in the first stranger’s eyes.

“Dibs.” I hear Chelsea softly whisper behind me in reference to the dark haired boy’s friend.

“I’m Y/n, by the way,” I say amicably to the first boy. He smiles softly and extends me his hand to shake.

“Jamie.” Jamie. “And this is Trevor.” Trevor reaches out to shake my hand also but I’m ushered away as Chelsea steps in. I hold in a laugh as best I can, shaking my head in an amused disbelief. Good for her.

“Chelsea. Nice to meet you guys.”

“Are you guys from Cali?” Trevor asks her to strike up conversation. 

“I am, but she isn’t. I take it you guys aren’t from here?”

“What gave me away?” Trevor squints with a laugh. Chelsea is visibly charmed and laughs along with him.

“No one from California calls it Cali,” I answer. Jamie laughs sheepishly, a soft blush creeping across his cheeks. He’s so cute.

“I’m from Toronto,” he replies simply and my ears perk up.

“Toronto’s nice. Are you hockey fans?” I ask, using some of the very little information I know about Canada. The two boys laugh and share a knowing glance.

“You could say that.” Trevor answers smugly. The comment strikes me as odd and I cross my arms defensively to jeer,

“Why are you laughing?”

“We play hockey professionally.” My lips part in a mild shock.

“And you make money doing that?” I ask, incredulously.

“You could say that.” Trevor shrugs and then asks Chelsea about the necklace she’s wearing, though it’s clear he’s only staring at her cleavage. Idiot. I return my attention to Jamie and smile.

“What do you like to do in your free time? Other than hitting on girls in smoothie shops.” Jamie laughs sheepishly once more. The raucous whirring of the juicers makes the shop a loud environment for conversation; he subconsciously steps closer to me to hear better. 

“Well, I was learning guitar for a little bit.”

“How’d that go?”

“Pretty terrible, not gonna lie.” Jamie and I laugh over the confession. 

“Did you learn any songs or just chords?”

“I tried to learn a song but it wasn’t going so well.”

“That’s a shame. What song?”

“In case you didn’t know by Brett Young.”

“In case you didn’t know,” I sing in the worst pseudo-country accent I could manage, “That one?”

Jamie laughs hard, nodding yes as his nose scrunches and his eyes fall closed. I laugh at his reaction, although I’m trying to hold it together. “Why are you laughing?” I feign ignorance and he laughs harder.

“Oh my god, that caught me so off guard.”

“What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

“That’s one way to put it. You’re cute.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” I fake challenge, crossing my arms over my chest as if I’m contemplating fighting him. Jamie merely pulls out his phone and hands it to me to text myself. It’s at this point that I have a moment to tune back in to Chelsea and trevor.

“Oh you’re doing numbers?” She comments from her vantage point and I laugh out of slight embarrassment.

“Maybe.” I say, playing coy to Chelsea, but I can tell Jamie’s taking me literally. “Here.”

Jamie takes the phone back to look at the sent message. In handing over the phone, the tips of his fingers brushed mine and the gesture ignites butterflies in my stomach. 

“Y/n,” He recites gently, smiling at the screen that displays the new text conversation. I bite back a smile at the sound of my name on his tongue, and nod softly. 

“Yo, Jimmy, we gotta go.” Trevor calls over the noise of the smoothie shop. He nods in acknowledgement before looking back at me with a small smile.

“I’ll text you?”

“Don’t forget it.”

***

A/n: this is just a little blurb but there's more to come. I have exams right now but once they're done I'll be back!

#Jamie Drysdale #Jamie Drysdale fanfiction #Jamie Drysdale fanfic #Jamie Drysdale fic #Jamie Drysdale imagine #Jamie Drysdale oneshot #Jamie Drysdale one shot #Jamie Drysdale x reader #Jamie Drysdale x y/n #Jamie Drysdale smut #Jamie Drysdale fluff #Jamie Drysdale angst #Jamie Drysdale blurb #Jamie Drysdale drabble #Jamie Drysdale hc #Jamie Drysdale headcanon #trevor zegras #Trevor Zegras #Platonic!Trevor