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thot-of-khonshu · 2 years

Text

French Lessons

Pairing: Steven Grant X f! reader

Summary: You had been in desperate want to learn French, but the absolute droll of learning through a boring app was no fun. Coincidentally, you meet a brilliant gift shop clerk at the museum who can teach you French while you can teach him a thing or two about love.

Rating: Explicit 18+ (By proceeding to read beyond this warning, you agree that you are 18 years or older)

Word Count: 5K

Content: Explicit Smut, pining, masturbation references, dry humping, fingering, handjob, fluff, romance, French, Steven Grant, slight reference to Marc Spector

Notes: My Steven fic has finally arrived!! I'm hoping to turn this into a series because I have quite a few other ideas and I don't want to leave you hanging with just a taste of the two of them. But I hope you like it and share/reblog! Love y'all!

Updated Note: Wow!! Thank you so much for all of your kind words and notes. Part 2 is currently in the works and coming soon.

Part 2

Bonjour! Je m'appelle Vivienne Rousseau et bienvenue à votre premier cours de français’!

Hello! My name is Vivienne Rousseau and welcome to your first French lesson! Did you understand my first sentence? If not, not to worry! I will teach you how to learn and with the right dedication you’ll be speaking fluently in the next 6 months! Today’s lesson is all about beginnings…

You whine as you raise your volume on your phone to stay focused. However, the tall statues and figurines in front of you were not helping like you thought it would. You had come to the National Museum to gain some peace and clarity while starting this new venture. French was always a language you had dreamed of learning, so why not start now? Sure, the grating voice of Vivienne Rousseau would drag you along through it, but this was a new adventure. The start of something interesting…

As long as you could pay attention. It wasn’t your fault Vivienne’s voice sounded like a high-pitched foghorn. But the reviews for her app were rave and they wouldn’t take your credit card information for another week, so if it became a bigger drag than it already was, you could cancel your free trial.

You walked throughout the museum trying to focus on your lesson, but rewound the same phrases over and over.

Je m’apelle Vivienne. Je suis ravi de vous rencontrer.

You were thinking it wasn’t the pyramids and statues that weren’t helping you focus, but you figured it was time for you to leave the museum, regardless. Before the trip home, you stopped at the gift shop for a bottle of water. You walked over to the gift shop counter t o grab the attention of a man entirely more focused on his Egyptian mythology book than having to sell stuffed scarabs. He looked slightly disheveled, with black curly tendrils falling all over his head. When you made eye contact with him, he had dark crescents under his eyes and a timid smile. He looked so nervous to a complete stranger, you couldn’t imagine how he was towards his coworkers.

Reaching for your water, the cord of your earbuds snapped and broke free from your phone. If you hadn’t noticed by the snapping of the cord, you would’ve noticed from Vivienne’s grating voice booming throughout your speaker:

Bonjour! Comment ça vas?

“Bien, merci. Et vous-même?” You look up and the tired, timid man has spoken, meeting your eyes with a softer smile.

You smile back and laugh. “Sorry about that. This is what happens when I don’t get earbuds from the last five years.”

“Well, it’s not about the earbuds, innit? It’s what’s in them that matters. Learning French?” He asks.

“If you could even call it that. I thought coming to the museum would help me focus up, but this woman I’m listening to sounds well braindead.”

“Je suis désolé. D'après ce que j'ai entendu, elle ressemblait à un bouton absolu.” The crinkles in the corner of his eyes became more prominent and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m sorry. From what I heard, she sounded like an absolute knob.” He translated. He introduced himself. Steven. With a V. You asked Steven with a V if he’d like to make some extra money on the side and before you knew it, you were meeting at the bistro every Wednesday for an hour of French lessons with Steven with a V.

Steven was not as drab and droning as Vivienne Rousseau, quite the opposite. Before and after your hour was up, you found yourselves talking more and more about your days; him describing the gift shop and his aspirations to be a tour guide despite his awful boss Donna. You couldn’t understand how he wasn’t. It seemed like everything he talked about could circle back to his love for Egyptology and the wonder of the gods and goddesses. How does someone like that know so much about it but he’s stuck behind a desk selling crisps and plushies?

After your 3rd meeting, you’d plucked up the courage to ask him. The first thing he did was look at you after those compliments with such earnest gratitude you felt your insides melt. The second thing he told you was that he had a sleeping disorder that kept him further back in life than he’d wanted. He aspired to have adventure, and life and zest as much as he could, but for right now… the gift shop was just enough.

That was the first night you had gone to bed thinking of how kind his smile was, chasing the warmth throughout your body it had given you as if you’d just taken a shot. You’d found yourself eager for the next lesson, to hear about his new studies, to watch his hands as he notated on your writing.

You’d gotten to the bistro thirty minutes early, in your same corner table at the patio, waiting for Steven.

You waited.

And you waited.

Two hours later, he never showed.

You felt your insides deflate as you traveled home. You’d checked your text messages every ten minutes hoping to see a sign that he was okay or if he was busy or if he just didn’t want to come. Maybe he’d seen the way you looked at him in your last lesson and found it inappropriate?

You wished Steven standing you up would’ve completely turned you off to him, but unfortunately, it just had him occupying your mind more and more until the sounds of his voice describing tales of the green jewel lulled you to sleep.

You woke up the next morning to your phone going off, although it wasn’t your alarm. Steven was in the middle of writing you a flurry of text messages with apologies about how he wasn’t able to make it last night and how his sleeping had completely mucked his week up. He asked if you were free that night for your lesson and a free meal to make it up. While you agreed to see him, your worry and apprehension weren’t immediately gone. You weren’t sure if this was just his common excuse he had given women, but, it was worth it to hear him out.

You had gotten to the restaurant and there at your familiar corner table was Steven Grant, looking like the saddest dog you had ever seen. As soon as you were in eye view, he walked up to you, moving to place his hand on your shoulder but hesitating. He moved it back to clasp his other palm, whispering your name.

“I am so deeply, deeply sorry. I go to bed on Saturday and then I woke up, and it’s Thursday and I feel like I got hit by a double-decker bus and— “

“Je te pardonne. Mangeons.” You had said. I forgive you. Let’s Eat. And he flashed you that damn smile again, and you felt your insides crack like an egg to the stove.

There wasn’t as much lesson as there was dinner this night as you and Steven had discussed every topic you could. Work, music, books, television. No topic was left off the table as you waited for your food. The server brought out the very vegan Steven’s steaming lentil soup and what was supposed to be your salmon was replaced with a large burger.

“I’m so sorry miss, it’s a bit of a mess in the kitchen back there tonight. I’ll get this sorted out straight away.” The server said to you. You saw the steam coming out of Steven’s soup and instead of digging in, his hands were placed politely on his lap.

When the server came back out, he had brought trout, which you were unfortunately allergic to or else you would’ve scarfed it down by then. More than a half hour had gone by and you were still waiting for your dinner. And there was Steven, hands no longer in his lap but marking your French in his thick glasses. You took a mental note of how good he looked in them while cursing yourself for doing so.

“Steven, if you want to eat, I completely understand. Your food must already be freezing.” You said, eying the way his hands held his pen.

“Not to worry.” He said cheerfully. “The great thing about lentils is that you can eat them hot or cold and I want to make sure you’re taken care of. Laisse moi prendre soin de toi.” You immediately felt your face redden and were so glad that your food had come back correctly this time so you could bury your head in your salmon and vegetables.

When you went home that night, you thought of his thick fingers, his kind eyes and the repeat of him saying “Laisse moi prendre soin de toi” in your head as you slowly slipped your fingers under the covers, dreaming of how your French tutor would say that to the heat between your legs.

Laisse moi prendre soin de toi. Let me take care of you.

He wasn’t late for the next lesson. He was there when you had arrived, 15 minutes before, to counter the overeager 30 minutes versus strolling in right on time. You wanted him to know you care about these lessons, but maybe not too much.

When you had walked over to the table, Steven had another downtrodden look on his face. His lips were turned down, and he was looking down at the ground. When he heard your footsteps, his face immediately brightened and damn, this was not helping your crush.

“Bad day at the museum?” You greet him as he sullenly nodded.

“Donna started taking the piss at me as soon as I got into work. A child — a child!! — came up to me and asked me where the bloody bathroom was and all I hear after I show her where it is—‘Stevie, you’re not a tour guide. It’ll never happen, so stop trying.’” He mocked Donna with a nasally grating voice.

“I’m sorry. It’s like she doesn’t even give you a chance to prove yourself.”

“Exactly!!” Steven excitedly exclaims as a few people from other tables looked around. He muttered apologies. “I’m just so tired of her thinking I’m some bumbling git. It’s not like she knows where the Hathor temple is and she could answer someone if they asked her. She wouldn’t even know Hathor if she bit her in the arse.”

You giggled as he went on. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling. Let’s get on with our lesson soon, but do you mind if I eat here again tonight? She wouldn’t even let me take a lunch today!”

“Well, since you had an absolutely shit day, I think it’s my turn to get dinner. And I’ll do one extra.” The server came around to your table as Steven looked at you, puzzled.

“Excuse me, sir, but can you recommend your finest French wine?”

A couple of hours later and two bottles of wine down, dinner was finished but there yet again wasn’t much of a French lesson. Giddy and bubbly from wine, you and Steven continued your endless back and forth and it felt like you could talk to him about just about anything. You saw him look at his phone screen to look at the time and you felt your heart sink a bit.

“Oh bugger, it’s already 9 PM.” Steven frowned. “I don’t want to keep you too long. I’m sure you have plenty to do.”

“No! Wednesdays are always our nights.” You saw his smile widen when you said that, the crinkles in his eyes deepening. “Besides, I wouldn’t just consider tonight a French lesson but me trying to cheer up a friend who seems to have had a bad day.”

“Not so bad now, innit?” He grinned. You looked into his eyes with no reluctance, the alcohol warming your body giving you courage to keep contact. He had beautiful, dark eyes and his nose was so strong and defined. You knew better than to even look at his lips, though, because once you did, you would stare too long and then goodbye to your friend and French tutor.

You heard a slight rumble and felt droplets hit your shoulders. First quietly and then pounding as the rain came through like a. Luckily you had already paid for yours and Steven’s food so you ran under the patio’s awning, Steven’s arm was halfway out of his jacket when he ran over to you and then flipped the jacket over your head.

“What do we do now? I know we’re having a great time, but you’re also not exactly paying me to gossip during a rainstorm.” Steven shouted over the loud rain.

Liquid courage be damned. You thought of an offer that you didn’t want to come off the wrong way, but it was raining and you did pay him for a lesson you hadn’t exactly completed. You bit your lip in contemplation and you could’ve sworn in the corner of your eye you saw Steven eyeing your swollen bottom lip.

“My flat isn’t too far, if you don’t mind it.” Steven looked at you for what felt like a long moment and you held your breath. He nodded and kept his jacket above your head the entire way.

As soon as you had gotten to your flat, you thought the alcohol would wear off, but the last bottle you two had shared was just kicking in. The two of you ran and giggled back to your apartment like a couple of schoolchildren, and you felt so refreshed. You loved that you could be silly with him.

“This is it! Sorry I haven’t fixed it up much.” You said, tossing your shoes on the floor and your keys on your counter.

“It’s much better than my place.” Steven looked around. “You wouldn’t be surprised though, loads of books, loads of paperwork, a goldfish named Gus.”

You snorted. “Come on, my books and my desk are in the bedroom.”

He followed you into your bedroom as you turned on the desk light, lit enough to illuminate the space needed but not too bright to cause a headache. You fell onto your bed, back first, with your arms stretched out to the back of your head. It felt so good to close your eyes. It felt so good being tipsy. It felt so good being with Steven. Where is Steven? When you opened your eyes, there he was at your desk, eyeing your stack of French books.

“I have to say this is quite the collection, miss.” He took his glasses out of his shirt pocket and slipped them on and you had to shut your eyes quickly before the heat between your legs grew to an uncomfortable amount. “Baudelaire, Marceline Desbordes-Valmore and you have my favorite, Victor Hugo.”

“No way, Victor Hugo is my favorite as well!” You shot up excitedly. He had Hugo’s book in his hand as he skimmed through.

“Le Roi S’amuse, I love absolutely love this play.”

“Can I tell you something?” You swung your feet off of your bed to distract your bubbling nerves. “I’ve really wanted to pick up French just so I can read more French literature I can fall in love with. See more plays, get more cultured.”

“That’s what I like about you.” Steven said, bringing the book with him as moved next to you on the bed. “We haven’t exactly gone over this term yet, but when I think about you, I think of your joie de vivre. Your lust for life. You see things and opportunities and you take them.”

You feel yourself redden. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

“I just mean, if it was the other way around, I could’ve never walked up to an attractive stranger and asked them to teach me French.” He looks down nervously for a brief moment and then steadies himself, giving you deep eye contact. You’re almost rendered speechless.

“Are you telling me you find yourself attractive, Steven Grant?” You whisper. Your eyes are locked on each other. You’ve never seen someone with such dark, kind eyes.

“Can I tell you which verse is my favorite?” You break the silence. “It would probably do me good to have you hear some of my French tonight.” You giggle. Steven doesn’t giggle. He slowly nods as your liquid courage takes over. Your hands are shaking, but you feel the electricity.

You slip your hands onto his and help guide him to your favorite passage. His eyes don’t leave your face. It’s as if he’s studying you like a new art installation.

“La vie est une fleur, l’amour en est le miel.” You recite.

“Life is a flower, love is its honey.” Steven translates. His hands are so, so warm on yours.

“C’est la colombe unie à l’aigle dans le ciel,” you continue, briefly daring to look up at his eyes, which are now on your hands. He looks absolutely dazed, as if he can’t believe this is real.

“It’s the dove united with the eagle in the sky,” You notice Steven's hands are shaking too.

“C’est la grâce tremblante à la force appuyée,” Do you dare to move your hands?

“It’s the trembling grace to the leaning force,” He’s looking directly at you again. No wine, no French, no lentil soup could save you now.

“C’est ta main dans ma main doucement oubliée…” You rub your hands on top of his and his fingers feel exactly how you thought they would, and more.

“It’s your hand in my gently forgotten hand…” He moves one hand to your shoulder. Your heart feels as if it’s in your throat.

“Aimons-nous! aimons-nous!” There are exclamation points in the text, but all that comes out of your mouth is a faint whisper.

“Let’s love each other. Let’s love each other.” Somehow, your faint whisper is louder than Steven’s.

And then silence. You feel yourself gravitate towards him, the heat of your lips meeting as they finally collide and give you the sweetest satisfaction.

Steven Grant’s lips are softer than you could have ever fantasized. He’s gentle, slow and leaves you lingering for more. One hand is still on your Victor Hugo book, rubbing the palm of your hand as your fingers are laced together.

You break apart briefly and lean your foreheads on each other, grinning as he rubbed your shoulder.

“I feel like I’ve been wanting to do that since I first met you.” Steven confesses. You take your other hand and run it through his tussled black curls as you continue to kiss him. He follows your lead, matching the pace of your kisses and, albeit awkwardly initially, slipped his tongue into your mouth, letting you taste him.

As the kiss deepened, you heard the book slam onto the ground with a large thud as you lifted yourself onto his lap. You heard Steven gasp, and you broke the kiss.

“Is everything alright?” You scan his eyes for any discomfort.

“I’m alright, love.” His hands continue gripping your shoulders tightly. You place your hands on them, moving them slowly from your shoulders to the curve of your hips.

“You don’t have to worry.” You whisper into his lips. “You can touch me however you want.” He exhaled and gripped your hip with more confidence. His other hand moved to the back of your neck as your lips crashed together, moving at a faster pace. You moan as he slips his tongue into your mouth, which causes him to moan. You pushed against him, slowly rocking on him, your skirt slipping up by the friction.

He groans before breaking the kiss. “I should let you know something. I’m not like other men.”

“That’s precisely what I like about you, Steven.” You move your lips to the warmth of his neck, sucking on him as he groans again, shaking his head as if he needs to get out of his trance.

“No, I’m serious. I’ve told you about my sleeping disorder… how it causes me to miss certain days and how I feel so knackered afterwards. It’s… caused me to miss quite a bit out of life.”

“And I can help you make it up.” You nibble on his ear.

“I’m a virgin.” He blurts out so fast you almost miss it.

You take a moment to settle into his lap, hands still firmly smoothing out his soft curls. He looks down with a tinge of shame and embarrassment that you’re puzzled by, so you reassure him by lifting his chin up and giving him a soft kiss.

“Hey, come on now. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It just hasn’t happened yet.”

“Yeah, at least not with the right person.” He takes his slightly shaky hand to hold the side of your face as you kiss his palm.

“Well, we can go at whatever pace you like tonight.”

"I just want to make you feel good.” Steven whispers. “Show me how to do that and I’ll be satisfied enough tonight.”

“But I want you to be satisfied too, Steven. And I think I know of a way to do that.”

You press your lips against his, but this time hungrier, needier. You wanted to show him how much you had been pining for him all of these weeks. Steven could steadily match with your pace, boldly biting your lower lip and smiling as he heard a moan exit your mouth.

You move his hand from your face, slowly sliding it down your neck, to the curve of your breast. Steven let out a whimper as you guided his hand to knead your breast. He stared at your hands together, mouth agape, eyes hooded, in a trance.

You moved his hand from your breast to your stomach, to your thighs as you guided his hand up your dress. You planted soft kisses on him while you guided him, but when you stop at the heat between your legs, he’s absolutely speechless. You remove your hand from his, letting him decide his next step.

He rubs the outline of the wetness of your underwear as you sigh in pleasure.

“Steven…” You whisper.

“I could never get tired of hearing my name said like that.” He sighed, still looking at you in absolute unabashed awe. You removed the straps from your sundress, exposing your naked breasts, and instead of the trembling nerves Steven had shown you, he was massaging and rubbing at one nipple while still rubbing the outline of your underwear.

“That feel good?” Steven murmured.

“So good Steven.” Your nipples had started to harden under his touch. Steven removed his hand from your crotch so he could steady himself and focus on putting his breasts in your mouth. He took ample time with both of them, switching back and forth and sucking on them with such passion that his eyes were shut and he was moaning, silently praising your chest.

After a few moments of bliss, you stopped him, lifting his head up as he could watch you get off of his lap and onto your knees. Just the simple action of you kneeling between his raging erection caused him to start quietly panting, not wanting any sudden movements to ruin this moment.

You unfastened his belt, eyes still met with his as you saw the bulge from his boxers. There was a slight wet spot of pre-cum on the fabric and you felt your mouth water with anticipation. You pulled his boxers down so his cock could spring free and you weren’t only surprised but very pleased.

Steven’s cock was so thick you could barely touch your thumb when wrapping your hand around him. He was already so firm and hard for you, veins slightly protruding out and more liquid glistening at the top of his tip.

“Oh my God.” Steven chanted as you rubbed him up and down. “Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God, I can’t believe this is happening.”

“I can’t believe you’re so big.” You say, a bit hypnotized yourself. You had fantasized about this moment but couldn’t believe it was actually happening and better than you had ever expected.

“I’m not gonna lie to you,” Steven strained out. “As much as I would love for you to put your mouth… all… over me… I think our fun would end rather quickly, and that leaves us with a bit of a problem.”

You slightly turn your mouth, upset you can’t have your mouth take the challenge of swallowing his cock just yet, but then you come up with an even better idea, giving Steven a devilish grin.

You slip his boxers back on, his bulge even more prominent than before, and Steven looks up at you with a puzzled look. You wrapped your legs around his hips and sunk your clothed crotch into his.

“Oh, fuck.” Steven moaned, calling out your name. “Fuck, that feels amazing.” He fastened his hands on your hips as you slowly rocked into him. You put your forehead onto his, breathing in each other’s air as Steven quickened the pace, the pressure of his thickness tightening your bundle of nerves. You started to grind onto him, hard and fast, as he held himself steady with the softness of your ass.

The warm pressure of his cock was about to make you come undone. His head was buried in between your breasts, not sucking at them but just breathing you in, just to make sure you were real. That this was real.

Steven pushed his crotch up against you at a pace that you knew would unravel you. Your moans together became more rhythmic.

“Steven, I’m so close, please don’t stop.” You whined. You brought your hand not tangled in his curls to your clit as you began to rub it, this just quickened Steven’s pace as you bounced on his crotch, his hands gripped on your ass so tightly you knew you’d have bruises later.

As your moans got louder, you felt yourself release, your orgasm throbbing throughout your entire body. Steven came quickly after, abruptly stopping as he released his warmth into his boxers. The two of you panted together, heads still connected through your foreheads. Closer than ever.

“Wow.” Steven meekly whispered. “That was better than I ever imagined it would be. Tu es exquis."

”Tu es incroyable.” You whispered back, looking at him as he smiled warmly at you. “See, I’ve been paying attention.”

The two of you laid there for a few moments until Steven went into your bathroom to clean up. You had slowly stripped away your dress and your bra, nestling under your duvet, leaving some space behind you for the wonderful man you were waiting for.

A few moments passed, and you felt his warm body surrounding you, arms around your waist as he lay there naked, reciting Victor Hugo’s romantic poetry into your ear.

“I reckon if I can’t give you a full French lesson, this was the best substitute.” Steven’s hands were circling lazily around your arms and you briefly reminisced about the time when he didn’t even know if a hug was appropriate. And now here he is in your bed, wearing no clothes and reciting poetry into your ear.

Sometimes real life really eclipses fantasy.

“I’d say this absolutely makes up for it, and then some. But… I think we’re going to have to go into double time next lesson to make up for it.” You grinned.

“You’re right, maybe an oral exam will have to do.” Steven awkwardly quipped and you both laughed at his awkwardly adorable attempt at double entendre.

You turned around and opened your arms up towards him. He moved his head towards your chest, arms gripping your waist tightly with the same fervor as earlier, as if you would float away and this was all a dream.

You buried your fingers in his curls, gripping your free hand to the back of his head until you drifted asleep.

Steven Grant, the shy gift shop clerk that had offered you French lessons.

Steven Grant, the brilliant, burgeoning Egyptologist that brightened your life with his stories and his warmth.

Steven Grant. The start of something new.

#steven grant #steven grant smut #steven grant x you #steven grant fluff #steven grant x reader #steven grant fanfiction #moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight x you #moon knight smut #oscar isaac x you #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac x y/n #steven grant x y/n #marvel #mcu #mcu smut #marvel smut

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miss-conjayniality · 2 months

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sitarist jay (drabble)

genre: fluff

pairing: jay x gn south asian!reader

word count: 610

warnings: none

A/N: in honor of all the holidays coming up (holi, vaisakhi, ramadan/eid, etc.), AND also my srk x jay post that sparked desi enha discourse, this one goes out to all my desi engenes!!!! 🫶🏼 happy holi!!!! happy vaisakhi a month in advance. and a ramadan mubarak to those who celebrate.

soft desi engene hours. could u just IMAGINE sitarist!jay and dholi!you!?!??? 🥺

jay is grateful to have a lover who hails from such a gorgeous, rich culture that spans millennia. and as any connoisseur of culture would say - music isn’t just part of culture….it is culture. he’s been playing guitar for many years now. and he wants to venture out into other stringed instruments. and what better way than learning the sitar?

jay enjoys the calming, soulful, and twangy sound of the sitar. it sends him into a trance and he feels completely immersed in a different world. despite it being “different” from what he’s done before, he believes that the language of music is universal - one felt within the heart first and foremost.

he holds a deep reverence for south asian music. be it nusrat fateh ali khan, kishore kumar, mohammed rafi, noor jehan, or asha bhosle, he feels the timeless, evergreen spirit of such compositions pulse within his soul.

watching him learn the sitar is an endearing sight. ethereal even! seeing the level of dedication he has towards mastering such an art form warms your heart. he wants to learn bhajans, shabads, and ghazals for you. all he wants in life is to express his love for you through music. just chillin’ in his kurtas with the sleeves rolled up and his sitar by his side, showing you the ravi shankar songs he’s learned so far.

on the other hand, he too admires you for your passion for percussion. jay loves your appreciation towards the different types of dhol. he fawns over the euphoric feeling you get when hitting every thappi and tiparu and the way you chant your DHAs and DHINs while doing so. jay also appreciates the way you treat your dagga and tilli sticks like they’re your babies. he loves the swingy sound of dhol beats and the swagger you exude while you play.

jay sometimes gets annoyed when you pester him with the sound of your loud ass dhol while he’s peacefully and calmly practicing his sitar. but he knows it’s out of love and good fun. it’s the desi equivalent of the percussionist kids in band disrupting the ones who play the wind and brass instruments. antics aside, jay appreciates the lively spirit and camaraderie that comes with these musical clashes, cherishing the shared moments of cultural exchange and musical banter.

in the end, these musical escapades become cherished memories, shaping jay’s musical journey with a touch of spontaneity and joy. the blend of dhol and sitar, once seemingly contrasting, transforms into a celebration of diversity within your shared love for music. as the two of you continue your artistic pursuits, jay realizes that the moments of lighthearted banter and cultural exchange have added a special rhythm to the soundtrack of your relationship - one of seismic adoration.

with each note played and every shared laugh echoing in the air, jay acknowledges that your artistic pursuits have not only strengthened your musical connection with each other, but have also deepened your bond with him. the rhythm of seismic adoration encompasses the highs and lows, much like the crescendos and decrescendos in your collaborative performances. through the language of music, your relationship thrives, creating a symphony of understanding, support, and shared passion that resonates far beyond the notes of your instruments.

#enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #jay fluff #enhypen soft hours #enhypen hard hours #happy holi my loves! 🥹#xoxo heidi ♡#soft hours with heidi ♡#been meaning to post this for a while now…but holi rehearsals + work and other commitments have been CRRAAAZZYYYYY😵‍💫#glad I could finally post it daahhlliingggsss

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peregrine21 · 6 months

Text

(photo from pinterest)

quick reminder for y'all to fill out the updated tag list for me please! (2 posts down, the form specifically says updated in the title) apologies for any inconveniences, there was some confusion on the original and some usernames didn't register, there is also a new character/fandom added (Larissa Weems, Wednesday).

~~to the fic :)

Elegantly off schedule - Miss Peregrine x Reader

Pairing: Alma Peregrine x Reader

Includes: fluff, gorgeous gorgeous Alma

Warnings: slight jealousy on y/n’s part? But its alr Alma helps <3

Word Count: 508

Brief Description: Mini fic of Alma being gorg and putting y/n in absolute awe with her elegance and grace and beauty before they go on a dinner date. (tiktok prompt).

~~~

You’d already been waiting 15 minutes for Alma to come downstairs for your dinner date. It wasn’t like her to be late or take this long to even get ready for a date night. You had planned ahead anyway– something you’d picked up from Alma– so you weren't worried about missing your reservation. You just wanted to make sure she was alright and not rush her. Ever since Barron had showed up that one day, you couldn’t help but be anxious. You walked up to her room and gently knocked on the door to check on her, “Alma, darling, is everything alright? Do you need anything?” You stood there waiting for a response, and after a moment, she finally responded, “I’m alright love, I’ll be down soon!” You descended the stairs once more and sat on one of the chaises in the parlor as you waited, picking up the book you’d left on the side table earlier. Your dress splayed out on the chaise and the floor as you sat. Only a few pages in, you heard Alma’s door open and close again. You placed the book back on the table and looked up towards the staircase expectantly. As you heard her heels click rhythmically down the stairs, your heart started pounding out of your chest. You’d been together years now, but every date still felt like the first.

Alma finally appeared at the top of the stair landing. The sight of her left you absolutely awestruck. She’d always dressed nicely for your dates but never to this caliber. She wore a floor length black dress with an off-the-shoulder neckline and a double slit in the front of the skirt revealing her delectable legs as she descended the staircase. Her hair was curled and pinned up in elegant perfection and her makeup done to match. You hardly processed her descending the stairs from the pure awe you were in admiring her beauty. When she made it down the staircase and approached you, your senses were filled with her perfume that you’d bought her for your last anniversary– the one she only brought out on special occasions. Between her appearance and the perfume, you were in absolute ecstasy; It made you want to scoop her in your arms bridal style and carry her back into her room.

Your mood dropped however after a few moments passed and you could come down to your senses a bit. If she sent you over the moon this easily, imagine the other people round town and in the restaurant you were going to. Imagine the cat calls and the other people trying to steal her attention as she passes by them in all her elegance and grace. A pair of taloned hands cradled your cheeks, pulling you out of your thoughts, “I’m yours darling,” she whispered, smiling at you, “Only yours, no one else's. Understand?” You look into her eyes in awe once more and nod silently. She pulls you closer into a loving kiss before you both head off to dinner together.

~~~

@lexi1109 @perfectlightexpertfriend @xYourlostwifexoxo @Joshuastuff22 @theyearis2040 @darlingimlostwithout @jestercat28 @ravie-ray @queerpersonified @emsmultiverse @ann08267 @ilovewomenmen2 @aliceis-75 @princessoofolympus @atlas-reader

#x-reader #date night #Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children #miss peregrine #miss peregrine movie #miss peregrine x reader #alma peregrine #alma lefay peregrine #alma peregrine x reader #alma lefay peregrine x reader #romantic #fluffy romance #fluff #miss alma lefay peregrine

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biblioklept-writes · 1 year

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hi. is it possible to do an enemies to lovers between aemond x reader? the reader hates aemond for his arrogance and impulsive behaviour. aemond supposedly "hates" her and is in complete denial. however, he gets jealous when she is performing traditional dancing with one of her male friends because he doesn't know the moves and feels left out. after the dance, he chases her to the gardens after the dance while the reader is wearing her traditional costume and jewelleries. and that was when he finally notices how beautiful the reader is. if you can consider this, that would be great! thanks!

Hey anon! thank you for this prompt <3

I am going Desi!reader with this, hoping that you were desi and came to my blog from this hehe. I feel this prompt suites modern times better than hotd era and I incorporated a tinsy bit of this ask, sorry if thats not what you had in mind!

I was a fool (Modern!Aemond x Reader)

Content: just some jealous Aemond in an arranged marriage type of situation, could be considered fluff

A/N: Ravi is just an OC (if you are familiar with A Good Girl's Guide to Murder then not really)

HOTD Masterlist | Modern!Aemond Masterlist

Sometimes, being a rich heiress was tough.

You enjoyed a luxurious life thanks to your parent's jewellery making and retail, and a luxury hotel chain - they were one of the most famed in all of Westeros, having migrated from the Indian Subcontinent in their youth.

As their eldest daughter and heiress, you were introduced to the Targaryens, a strange family full of scandal, yet they were the wealthiest of the business families in all of Westeros - dealing with luxury vehicles, home decor, skin care and cosmetics line - and they owned some smaller, less expensive brands under elusive names. Surely not all of their business was legal, just like yours.

You had first met Aemond Targaryen at one of your mother's seven star hotel, right by the King's Landing Airport. It was a rather secretive place and paparazzi stayed away, courtesy of the Airport Security Force. You had become accustomed to the bright lights and the shining marble flooring and the high ceilings, non of them piquing your interest as they did when you were a child.

You had heard a lot about him, more than you were willing to admit. You had attended the same university, with him being two years your senior. He was stoic - stayed quiet save for answering the professors. Among the girls, he had a reputation of being inexpressive and condescending, even though he was a pleasure in bed. You and him never had the same crowd - not in university and never outside of it. You had heard he loved cars and partook in numerous F1 races and had a stellar reputation - almost always getting to the podium.

Reputation or not, you did not like him. He was a stuck-up and arrogant man, and you couldn't stand the thought of marrying him even for a profit to your family. Pretending to be in love with this man was tough, even with his god-like beauty.

Aemond has his permanent scowl on his face, even when you are having a very public dinner with his cousin Baela and her fiancé. You and Baela are having a light-hearted conversation on the subject of cosmetics, sharing your preferences and icks. Bonding over the fact that neither of you manage to get a foundation that matches perfectly, you pitch that maybe you should start your own cosmetic line catering to darker skins specifically.

"I'll promote you for free," Baela quips. "It's time we take matters into our own hands, isn't it?"

"That's what I am saying," You chuckle.

Both your companions are sitting in complete silence after exchanging etiquette compelled pleasantries. They quietly pick at their plates, and you pity the Lannister man - Baela's fiancé - for being stuck with your soon to be fiancé, Aemond. You've stopped feeling anything for him quite a while ago, your date.

"Red is really your colour," Baela compliments once the quartet of you is out of the restaurant. "It's hard to keep eyes off of you,"

The two of you walk arm in arm behind your respective dates, feeling pleasant in the cool evening air. "Thank you," you say, pushing your hair away from your eyes. "You're a stunner yourself, Baela."

She stops, and lets the men walk out of earshot before asking, "How does my cousin treat you?" She sounds concerned.

You take both her hands in yours, heart warmed by her concern. "He's fine. We barely talk. That's great," you say. "Otherwise I'd have slapped him by now."

"He's a bit of a... personality," Baela agrees. "If he does anything that bothers you, let me know. I will put a word to his mother."

You chuckle, "Sure," The only reason you've not turned your house upside down is because of this family. They have their quirks, but Baela and her twin Rhaena, Alicent, Helaena and Daeron have been very welcoming of you, making sure that you feel right at home.

As etiquette rules, Aemond waits for you by the passenger side of his Rolls Royce as you walk to it, opening the door for you then going over to the driver's side. He is quiet again, and you start scrolling through your phone, answering any messages that need urgent attention. It's always like this, you barely speak aside from exchanging pleasantries - and honestly, you didn't mind it too much.

It's not like you hadn't tried, you had always tried to make small talk, to get to know him better, but his responses never exceeded one word. How was your day? Average. How are you feeling? Good. And that was on the good days, otherwise, you've only ever heard him hum or snark in response.

He wasn't controlling of what you were doing or who you were with - one could say it was all they asked for in a rich husband who let them do whatever they want. You didn't want that though, you were the eldest daughter of ultra rich immigrant parents, you knew how to get things done your way, and you knew how to keep everyone in line without having to utter a word. But you were also the eldest daughter of immigrant parents, always having to set a pristine example for your little brother and youngest sister, be the perfect daughter, caretaker, student, dancer, performer, the best of your year, raise your siblings while your parents work and do so without any complains to anyone. Expressing your qualms meant a lecture on how ungrateful you were of everything that your parents provided for you and being unable to say something in your defence because then you 'd be talking back like an ungrateful little brat.

This to-be marriage with Aemond was something set up entirely by your mother and his. Your mother couldn't wait to rub it in everyone's face that her beautiful, perfect daughter, her heiress was about to get married to one of the most handsome, and the richest bachelor in all of the continent, who had a stellar record in academics and was an expert in finance, and had no blemishes in his portfolio.

Turning this down would earn you a lifelong worth of taunts and lectures, so arguably this was better than that. Complete silence with a stranger you can trust, but not speak with. A stranger who would soon be your fiancé and put on a show for the tabloids to gossip about to give the reporters their content.

You think he hates you - he doesn't spare you one glance from his good eye - always keeping his sapphire-eyed side to you. Aemond had lost that eye in childhood, back when you were still fascinated by the pristine marble floors of hotels. There had been some accident involving his nephews from his stepsister, and your mother had sent her condolences to Alicent with some jewels. The current sapphire that he wore was the latest gift from your mother for announcing your cold courtship.

It's a few evenings later and you are visiting Aemond's penthouse in the heart of King's Landing to give the paparazzi a show, to give the tabloids something to gossip about the next morning and afternoon, when you are planning to leave.

You quite enjoy the music and the open bar, hating the strong taste of vodka, but not quite getting enough of it. You definitely aren't sober anymore, moving to the fast tempo of the music that you cannot distinguish - you only know that it makes you feel powerful like a divine goddess waiting to unleash her rage.

"Couldn't even wait for me to get back from work before getting drunk?" Aemond says. His voice is deep and it makes you shiver, for you have never heard him speak more than one word. "I wonder what my mother sees in you," he grumbles. "Whatever she does, I don't."

You give him the finger, and close your eyes to get lost in the music again. You really don't care what he thinks of you, but something in his words was straight up insulting.

"No words to say now?" He snarks.

"What is it that you pride yourself in, hm?" You ask, glaring at him.

"I graduated with the top scores in my degree, I am the best finance manager and the best Westerosi F1 driver - " he starts to say, offended. For a moment you wonder if he's drunk too, but the condescending look in his darkened violet eye has you lashing out on him in rage.

"Yeah, big deal racer-boy." You snap your fingers in front of his face, having to look up. "I was also the top scorer in my year - across all majors, I can hack into your finance system and bring it down and you wouldn't even know what happened. I run an NGO, I manage my mother's finances and I know how to stitch, embroider and cook. I can survive if left alone - but you'll start crying for your mother the moment you are left alone with no servants or money to take care of you. If anyone gets to act like a stuck up arrogant little bitch that should be me."

"Oh please, your mother was the one pushing for this marriage because she knows you are incapable of anything," He snaps at you. You are nose to nose, and you want to smack him hard across the face, but you hold back that grudge.

"You know what your beloved mother told me before we started all this?" You challenge. "Do you? DO YOU?" you exhale before saying, "She said that there is no other woman who could possibly put up with this attitude of yours - that she knows you will not be able to survive on your own, you big man-child. Putting a little show on for the reporters doesn't make you a man."

You push him back and take the elevator, yelling a "Fuck you!" before the door closes and hides his comically scandalised face.

Trouble in paradise? It seems the most eligible bachelor in Westeros is free for taking again.

"What is this that the newspapers say," Your mother says, tone chiding. "Why would you leave in the middle of the night?"

"I cannot stand Aemond, mother!" You complain. "I cannot stand him. If Alicent weren't so sweet, I'd never have agreed to this whole thing."

"Sweetie, please. Think it over again." Your mother insists.

"Consider this arrangement over if he doesn't apologise to me." You declare, glaring at your mother with untamed fury. And for once, she is rightfully terrified of your eldest daughter-rage. Your little brother supports you, making your point stronger. He can be a pain in the ass but he can also be helpful in times like these.

There is a gala event on the weekend, and your family friends from Little Kilton are invited. The Singh Family is here, as is your old friend Ravi. You hug him tightly and ask him about his girlfriend and the crimes that they uncovered together. He's giggly talking about his lovely girlfriend Pip, calling him Sarge and other cute names like that.

You want to be normal at that moment - not the daughter of diamond merchant and a luxury hotel chain owner, but a daughter of normal immigrants, with a boyfriend who can love you as Ravi loves his Sarge Pip.

You are quite done with everything, and decide to dress in traditional clothes for the gala, opting for a rather fancy lehenga. You are going to dance tonight, flaunt your classical dancing skills with Ravi as your companion. Your outfits accidentally match with the similar shades of green and silken fabrics - Ravi clicks a selfie and sends it to his girlfriend, who instantly calls and you finally get to see her in her element. You see the way Ravi's eyes light up on seeing her, and a knife twists at your heart - because you'll never have anyone be this happy to see you.

Pip gushes about how pretty you look and how no one will notice Ravi with you in the room, and you share a good laugh at Ravi's pouty look, claiming he looked ravishing.

"Alright, we're there." Ravi says. "I'll call you when I get back, Sarge. Love you."

"Love you." Pip says before they hang up.

"You're so in love it's disgusting." You say, lips twisted in mock disgust. "Put a ring on it already."

"That's the plan," He says with a dreamy smile. "I didn't come over just to see you, did I?"

"Ravi Singh!" You scream with your hand covering your mouth. "Oh my god, you absolute dork in love you can't be for real!"

"I hope she says yes." He sighs.

"Oh, she will." You declare. "I'll help you pick out the ring."

You told Ravi everything about Aemond and your situation with him, and the paparazzi didn't stop clicking pictures as your mom walked with you, with Ravi accompanying you. He's a little nervous, but he hides it well.

Once inside, you spot Alicent and Helaena, and introduce them to Ravi as your childhood friend and they are really welcoming of him. Alicent looks upset over her son's behaviour and apologises on his behalf, but you lie and tell her that's fine. Your mother can break her heart later gently if her son fails to prove himself worthy to you.

You spot Aemond's silver head in the corner of your eye as you walk away from Alicent and Helaena, and grab Ravi's wrist and have him look at your former-soon-to-be fiancé.

"He looks like an elitist snob," Ravi comments.

"You're not wrong," you say.

"I think jealousy would do him some good," Ravi says. "Let's go get changed, I believe our performance is in an hour. Don't you need t0o much time to get changed?"

"Let's go," You say, grinning. You whisper to your mother, actively avoiding looking at Aemond, not bothering to put up any civility for him. You'll never look at him in the face again if he doesn't apologise for his condescension.

The beat of the classical music hits your veins, and you and Ravi are dancing to the rhythm, going where the music takes you. The whole crowd is silent, entranced by your performance. It's nothing too strenuous, but you manage to impress them. You trust him enough for the couple of lifts that you have, earning a loud applause as you finish your performance with you on one knee on the right of the stage and Ravi in identical position on the left.

You are panting heavily as you get off the stage as the applause slowly quiets down, changing back into your magnificent green lehenga before going out to get some fresh air. The gardens are impeccably maintained, with trimmed bushes and perfectly shaped trees, the clean air replenishing the stale one in your lungs, making you relaxed after the costing performance.

You take a seat on a bench under a tall tree, in relative isolation as you catch your breath.

A scowl curves your beautiful face as you hear the sound of your name in Aemond's quiet, deep voice, wondering what more he could possibly have to say to you.

"What business have you got here?" You bitterly ask.

"You were amazing back there," He attempts.

"I am aware, thank you." You say, still refusing to look at him. "I had a great partner with me."

"Speaking of a partner, who is he?" Aemond asks.

"None of your business anymore," You snap.

"I just want to talk," He tries again.

"There's nothing there to talk," you stop him. "You made it pretty clear that I am not worth your time or attention."

"It was foolish of me to say that." He amends.

"Yet, that is what you thought was the truth." You say, looking ahead at the bushes in front of you.

"I'd have danced if you asked me to," He confesses, changing routes.

"You left no room for questions," You counter. "No self respecting person would ask something of you after only receiving one word or one syllable response for more than a month. And as a self respecting person I don't deem you a fit partner."

"And he is?" Aemond asks, you can hear in his voice - the anger, the strain that he has in his jaw.

"Surely," You tease, voice deadpanned. "Much better than you, definitely."

"What do you want me to do?" Aemond finally caves in, sighing.

"I don't know, maybe your top of the major brain should have the answers," You snap again. Your glare and voice have bite, but you do not give him the satisfaction of facing him. The warmth of his body comes at your side as he takes a seat beside you and lets out a long sigh.

"Look, I know it was foolish of me to say what I did," He started. "I want to ask for your forgiveness."

"You've not given me any reason to trust you," you say. “How can I forgive you if I know nothing about you?"

"We ought to change that then." Aemond decides. "Let me take you out sometime."

"You had all the time in the world to take me out, yet…" you trail off.

"I had been a fool," He sighs, rubbing his face. "A stuck up arrogant little bitch, as you'd rightfully put."

"What changed?" You ask, finally turning to look at him. Aemond's usual scowl is replaced with a soft, pleading crease in his brow. His lilac eye is uncharacteristically soft - you can swear that he has tears in both his eyes - the sapphire one and the intact one. "Please don't tell me you are doing this because your mom asked you to."

"She doesn't know what happened," Aemond confesses, his voice dropping down to a whisper. "I just needed to hear what you told me the other day."

"And?" You prompted.

"I have always thought you to be insanely beautiful," Aemond confesses with a hesitant sigh. "But today you look divine, crafted patiently by the Seven themselves."

"Hmm, go on." You say with a cheeky grin, and Aemond chuckles. This the first time you ever heard him laugh, the first time you have ever seen him smile. He has a pretty smile and his laugh is one of the most pleasing sounds to your ears.

"I was intimidated by you, to be honest." He confesses. You have never heard him sound so vulnerable, exposed, and you realise that you are rather fond of it. "You're this insanely talented, beautiful woman who has her life together with everything sorted and I don't think I have ever learned how to keep up a conversation."

“You big, foolish man,” you press your lips together, inhaling a deep breath. “That degree is of no use, you should return it. How can you manage finance without knowing proper communication?”

“Maybe you can help me with that,” He says with a smile. He has dimples.

“I’d like that,” You nod.

“I’ll pick you up at seven, tomorrow?” He asks.

“Why wait?” you shrug.

#aemond targaryen x reader #ask ans: oneshot #ask: modern!aemond #modern!aemond x reader #aemond x you #modern!aemond #aemond targaryen #modern hotd #hotd fic

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spaceagebachelormann · 1 year

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𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔!

HOW TO REQUEST

— state the character, romantic or platonic, the format of the request, and what you want with it

— do you have any specifics for the reader? male, female, blonde, poc, etc?

— requests can be send through inbox or dms, but inbox is heavily encouraged!

— PLEASE ACTUALLY SPECIFY WHAT YOU WANT WITH YOUR REQUEST!! ITS VERY HARD FOT ME TO WRITE SOMETHING THAT JUST SAYS “_____ x reader fluff” WITH NO FURTHER EXPLANATION!! GIVE ME A PLOT LINE!!

WHAT I WILL WRITE:

platonic

romantic

familial

any gender x any gender

headcanons

poly relationships

sensitive topics

x reader

ships (canon or non-canon, so long as it’s not problematic)

i. i WILL write cheating, but not if a character is going it to the reader/another character. i’ll make someone comforting another person after being cheated on, but i won’t write finnick odair cheating on someone

same thing ^^ goes for homophobic, transphobic, ableist topics like that, and. well i guess the same goes for abuse?

WHAT I WONT WRITE:

smut (i’m 14)

yandere

incest

student x teacher

canonically gay character (ex: wylan van eck) x fem!reader for romantic requests

canonically lesbian character x male!reader for romantic requests

songfics (nothing against them, i just don’t know how!!)

things about ocs

ship fics

character list (more to come!)

❍ = easiest characters to write for

bolded — favourite characters to write for

KEEPER OF THE LOST CITIES

❍ sophie foster, ❍ dex dizznee, fitz vacker, ❍ keefe sencen, ❍ biana vacker, ❍ marellla redek, ❍ maruca chebota, tam song, linh song, ❍ wylie endal, ❍ jensi babblos, stina heks

CHRONICLES OF NARNIA

❍ peter pevensie, ❍ edmund pevensie, ❍ susan pevensie, ❍ lucy pevensie, mr tumnus, ❍ caspian, eustace scrubb, jill pole, shasta, aravis

RIORDANVERSE

❍ percy jackson, ❍ annabeth chase, ❍ grover underwood, ❍ jason grace, ❍ piper mclean, ❍ leo valdez, ❍ hazel levesque, ❍ frank zhang, nico di angelo, will solace, reyna arellano, rachel dare, ❍ travis stoll, ❍ connor stoll, thalia grace, magnus chase, ❍ alex fierro, carter kane, sadie kane, lester papadopolous, lavinia asimov

PHANTOM OF THE OPERA

❍ christine daaé, ❍ raoul de chagny, erik destler, ❍ meg giry

p.s. i’ll write for the movie, musical, book and 1990 miniseries versions!!

HARRY POTTER

harry potter, ❍ hermione granger, ❍ ron weasley, ❍ luna lovegood, ❍ neville longbottom, ginny weasley, fred weasley, george weasley, ❍ sirius black, remus lupin, ❍ james potter, ❍ marlene mckinnon, mary macdonald, dorcas meadowes, lily evans

RIDE THE CYCLONE

ocean o’connell rosenberg, ❍ noel gruber, ❍ mischa bachinski, ❍ ricky potts, jane doe, penny lamb, ❍ constance blackwood

SHADOW AND BONE

❍ alina starkov, malyen oretsev, ❍ genya safin, ❍ zoya nazyalensky, david kostyk, erm others i accidentally deleted remind me to update this

SIX OF CROWS

kaz brekker, inej ghafa, ❍ jesper fahey, ❍ wylan van eck, nina zenik, matthias helvar

THE OUTSIDERS

ponyboy curtis, ❍ johnny cade, sodapop curtis, darry curtis, steve randall, ❍ twobit matthews, ❍ dallas winston

THE HUNGER GAMES

katniss everdeen, peeta mellark, ❍ finnick odair, ❍ johanna mason, marvel sanford, clove kentwell, cato hadley, ❍ cinna

IT (2017)

bill denbrough, eddie kaspbrak, richie tozier, ❍ stan uris, beverly marsh, ben hanscom, ❍ mike hanlon

THE SCHOOL FOR GOOD AND EVIL

❍ agatha of woods beyond, ❍ sophie of woods beyond, tedros of camelot, ❍ hort of bloodbrook, ❍ hester of ravenswood, ❍ anadil, ❍ dot, nicola, aric, rhian mistral, rafal mistral, leonora lesso, clarissa dovey

THE LAND OF STORIES

❍ alex bailey, ❍ connor bailey, ❍ red riding hood, ❍ jack, ❍ goldilocks, ❍ bree campbell

SCOOBY DOO

daphne blake, ❍ fred jones, shaggy rogers, velma dinkley

LITTLE WOMEN

❍ jo march, amy march, beth march, meg march, ❍ laurie

A GOOD GIRLS GUIDE TO MURDER

pippa fitz-amobi, ❍ ravi singh, naomi ward, ❍ cara ward, connor reynolds, ❍ jamie reynolds, nat da silva

THE MIGHTY DUCKS

❍ charlie conway, adam banks, ❍ lester averman, guy germaine, ❍ connie moreau, julie gaffney, ❍ ken wu, dean portman, luis mendoza, dwayne robertson, ❍ fulton reed

DRACULA

dracula, ❍ lucy westenra, mina harker, arthur holmwood, ❍ renfield, dr seward, abraham van helsing, ❍ quincey morris

FRANKENSTEIN

victor frankenstein, ❍ adam frankenstein, elizabeth lavenza, justine moritz, ernest frankenstein, henry clerval, the bride

DR JEKYLL AND MR HYDE

henry jekyll, ❍ edward hyde, ❍ richard enfield, gabriel utterson, hastie lanyon, lucy harris

MONSTER HIGH

gotta update this one guys,,,

THE BREAKFAST CLUB

john bender , ❍ claire standish, allison reynolds, brian johnson, andrew clark

THE POWERPUFF GIRLS

❍ blossom utonium, bubbles utonium, buttercup utonium , ❍ brick jojo, boomer jojo, butch jojo

DAVID BOWIE

❍ jareth, thomas jerome newton, david bowie

SWEENEY TODD

❍ sweeney, anthony hope, ❍ mrs lovett, johanna

THE ROSEWOOD CHRONICLES

lottie pumpkin, ellie wolf, ❍ jamie volk, ❍ ollie moreno, ❍ raphael wilcox, ❍ anastacia alcroft leblanc, saskia san martin, lola tomkins, mickey tomkins, binah fae

HAIRSPRAY

❍ corny collins, ❍ seaweed j stubbs, amber von tussle, tracy turnblad, penny pingleton, link larkin

MISC. CHARACTERS

sarah williams, ❍ bernard the elf, ❍ rodrick heffley, ❍ varian

#marlee organization <3

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kiltongrammarwriter94 · 1 month

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Whispers of Tiny Footsteps

Pairing: Pippa Fitz Amobi x fem reader

Baby Fitz Amobi junior inspector Headcannons

Warning: Utter fluff. Pippa Fitz Amobi stealing my heart.

Did not expect this to be so long.

Your heart races as you hold the positive pregnancy test. You’re a whirlwind of emotions—excitement, fear, and sheer disbelief. “Pippa,” you stammer, “we’re going to be parents. Can you believe it?” Pippa laughs, pulling you into a tight hug, leaving kisses on your forehead, your jaw, anyplace she can reach . “I can’t believe it either, love. But I’m so ready for this adventure.”

Pippa can’t stop talking. She rambles about baby names, nursery colours, and parenting books. “What if I mess up?” she frets. “What if I accidentally teach our child Morse code instead of nursery rhymes?” You kiss her forehead, the apples of her cheeks. “Pip, you’ll be an amazing mum. And I promise, no secret codes until they’re at least five.”

Pippa transforms the spare room into a cozy nursery. She paints the walls a soft mint green and hangs fairy lights. “Look, love,” she says, pointing at the crib. “Our little one will sleep here.” Your heart swells. “It’s perfect, Pip” you can’t help but say, bring her close to you, kiss the top of her frigid nose, “you are Perfect. Our baby will just love you”.

Pippa insists on visiting Harrods for baby essentials. She buys the softest blankets, designer onesies, and a mobile that plays classical music. “Our baby deserves the best,” she declares. You chuckle. “Pip, they won’t even remember the mobile.” “But we will,” Pippa replies, her eyes shining.

Pippa becomes a sentinel. She hovers over you, making sure you eat well and rest enough. “No heavy lifting,” she scolds. “And don’t stress. Our baby can sense it.” You roll your eyes. “Pip, I’m not made of glass.” “You’re carrying our child,” Pippa retorts. “You are made of glass” she scolds, moving to cup your jaw, lithe fingers holding your jaw in a firm grip. Her blue eyes staring into yours, “I want our baby to be healthy. I want you to be healthy. So no heavy lifting. If I have to call Ravi to do some heavy lifting I will. I’ve been needing to build that cradle in our room”. You lean your forehead into her chest, trailing your finger down her jaw, down to her neck. “I don’t think Ravi should help build it. After all you know how much I love watching you work with your hands” you whisper suggestively. Pippa blushes, “why don’t I get started on that now.” You laugh as you watch pip fly to her feet, eyes already trailing your figure. Hunger evident in her eyes. It’s only later when your backed up against your bed, a hungry pip laying desperate kisses on your sensitive neck that pip speaks. Her voice muffled by your skin. “Pregnancy makes you so much sexier have I told you that?”. You only blush.

“What about Agatha?” she suggests. “Or Hercule?”You laugh. “Pip, we’re not naming our child after fictional detectives.” “Fine,” she pouts. “But I’m still pushing for Mycroft”. Pippa arranges the nursery bookshelf meticulously. Agatha Christie’s novels sit next to Dr. Seuss. “Our child needs a balanced literary diet,” she declares. “Murder mysteries and whimsical rhymes.”You add a copy of “Goodnight Moon.” Pippa raises an eyebrow. “Is there a hidden clue in there?”

Pippa’s eyes widen the first time she feels the baby kick. “Sweetheart did you feel that?” You nod, tears in your eyes. “Our little inspector is saying hello.”Pippa presses her ear to your belly. “Inspector Junior, reporting for duty.”

Pippa packs the hospital bag like she’s solving a cold case. Extra socks, snacks, and a magnifying glass (just in case). “What’s the magnifying glass for?” you ask. “To examine our baby’s tiny fingerprints,” she replies. “And also to read the fine print on hospital forms.” Oh how you love this woman.

Pippa holds your hand through contractions. “Breathe, love,” she whispers. “We’ve got this.” When the pain subsides, she kisses your forehead. “You’re incredible.” “So are you,” you reply. Pippa is attentive to you, constantly holding your hands, kissing your cheeks. Josh is constantly waiting at the door, victor close behind, anxious to meet his grandchild. Leanne is constantly fretting over you, fluffing your pillow and wiping the sweat of your brow. “Just hold on a tad longer my loves” she encourages. Cara and Naomi come by, they bring board games and laugh over how protective pip is. But you love it. As labor progresses you no longer can have small moments of peace, pain is all you feel. It’s a deep primal pain that fills your veins. You cry, feel tears down your cheeks.

Pip holds you, chases the tears. “I’ve got you my sweet. Deep breathes for me” she says, eyes on alert. You had a history of holding your breathe when the pain got to high. Leanne is close behind, monitoring your oxygen level.

The moment they heard their baby’s first cry, Pippa’s eyes filled with tears. She kissed your forehead and muttered, “You’re incredible, love.” And she meant it. She watched as the tiny, wrinkled baby was placed onto your chest. A mess of pink skin and strong lungs that shook the walls. Leanne had smiled, “just like Pippa when she was born. Lungs made of iron”. “She’s perfect,” Pippa murmured, her voice full of awe. She hovered over the baby, checking her fingers and toes, making sure everything was in place. When a nurse approached, Pippa narrowed her eyes. “Be gentle,” she warned, as if the nurse were handling precious evidence.

“What’s her name?” Leanne had asked.

“Grace Fitz Amobi” Pippa had answered.

Pippa insisted on skin-to-skin contact, her shirt unbuttoned as she cradled their daughter against her chest. Grace’s tiny head nestled into the curve of Pippa’s neck. You watched as Pippa kisses her tiny forehead. You’re going to be brilliant,” Pippa promised. “Just like your mum.”

Josh and Victor were allowed in a few minutes after. Josh with his almost teenage voice had begged to hold her. Pippa had smiled, handing the small bundle into her brothers arms, “hold her gently now Josh” she corrected him. Josh was a natural, hoisting the baby against his chest and smiling widely. “I think I might love grace more than you Pippo hippo” he commented.

The car ride home was nerve-wracking. Pippa drove cautiously, her eyes darting between the road and the rearview mirror, where their daughter slept in her car seat. “We’re responsible for a human life now,” Pippa said, her voice filled with wonder. You laced your fingers with hers. “I’m sure our parents felt the same” you reassure.

Pippa took the night shift, sitting in the dimly lit nursery with their daughter cradled in her arms. She’d read her research papers aloud, hoping Grace would absorb some knowledge. You would tiptoe in, watching Pippa’s face soften as she gazed at their daughter. “She’s got your eyes,” Pippa whispered. “And my curiosity.”

As days turned into weeks, Pippa marveled at their daughter’s development. She’d watch her kick her legs, fascinated by the tiny muscles in action. “Look at her,” Pippa would say, her voice hushed. “When she’s mobile it’s going to be a nightmare”.

Pippa, in her meticulous nature, once put the nappy on backwards. You had discovered it during a change and burst into laughter. “Well,” Pippa deadpanned her cheeks crimson , “I was just testing your observational skills.”

You had prepared mashed bananas for the Grace’s first taste of solid food. Pippa, ever the researcher, decided to taste it herself. Her expression? Utter disgust. “I can’t believe she eats that”.

Pippa introduced Grace to classic literature—board books with titles like “Sherlock Holmes and the Missing Rattle.” You had caught Pippa whispering, “Elementary, my dear Watson. The rattle thief strikes again.”

#agggtm #emma myers x reader #pippa fitz amobi x fem reader #pipa fitz amobi x fem reader #pipa fitz amobi

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bluebirdsboi · 9 months

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9-1-1/9-1-1 Lone Star Masterlist | Last Updated: 11/26/23

Key

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

Carlos Reyes (Rafale Silva)

Coming soon...

Edmundo "Eddie" Diaz (Ryan Guzman)

Coming soon...

Evan "Buck" Buckley (Oliver Stark)

Coming soon...

Howard "Chimney" Han (Kenneth Choi)

Coming soon...

Judson "Judd" Ryder (Jim Patrick) | 🔒

Coming soon...

Ravi Panikkar (Anirudh Pisharody)

Coming soon...

Robert "Bobby" Nash (Peter Krause)

Coming soon...

Tyler Kennedy "TK" Strand (Ronen Rubinstein)

Coming soon...

#fanfic #fanfiction #fandom #911 #911 lone star #bobby nash #carlos reyes #eddie diaz #evan buckley #howard han #ravi panikkar #tyler kennedy strand

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we-out-here-simping · 1 year

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Living for the hope of it all (s.h. x desi!fem!reader) [part-2]

Part 1

Mixtape

Summary: Steve Harrington had almost kissed you and you realise your feelings for your recently made friend. The boy makes you feel warm but what happens when he leaves you behind cold again and again? What happens when Steve bumps into someone he's been avoiding? Leading to you finding out about a part of him he doesn't want you to see. And worst of all, what happens when you leave Hawkins?

Word count: 12k+ (this fic is ginomonosaurus)

Warnings/tags: HoH steve; talk of 'king steve' era a lot; steve Harrington being a spaced out king; angst; lovestruck pining idiots; they're both afraid of emotional intimacy just like me frfr; both reader and Steve are 19 in this one (takes place after season 3); alcohol intake; reader has a favourite colour; kissing; mention of shitty parents :(

A/n: *slaps roof of fic* this baby fits so many song references that I've lost count. this is long and i hope my Desi girlies don't mind that the writing is....... well weird cuz I might have rushed it a little I'm sorry. also really restrained a full on angsty ending with no fluff but i think we deserve better and so does stevie.

I will be taking a hiatus for a while from here because life. But I will come back! Don't you worry! Promises series will continue then but until then i might or might not make little posts or reblogs here and there but nothing too much. But just know that when i come back, which I will, the promises series will be just jam packed with angst hehehee ;)

The next day, Steve was once again climbing your window. He would've used the door like a normal person, he really would have, but that meant high chances of coming across Ravi. And we've established why that would not be a good thing.

His heart was battering loudly in his ribcage as he scaled the wall. Okay, technically he wasnt scaling the wall but one slip could be very detrimental to the state of his bones.

He hoped by some miraculous magic you would have forgotten about all that had transpired– or had almost transpired– the night before. He tried not to think of it— your breath fanning over his lashes when he had looked at you in his half sleepy state. How you had looked like an angel looking down at him.

Something had made him feel drunk enough to say those things without a drop of alcohol in his system. It was you, most definitely.

And God, had he wish to kiss you. It seemed like the simplest and easiest thing to do; it could've been, it would've been.

But he knew, he knew what it would lead to.

Because no matter how you feel, by the end of this wedding, you leave and Steve would be alone, once again.

He tried not to think about all that as his feet finally landed on the porch.

He knocked softly at the cold glass pane, the drawn curtains obstructing his view into the room. The tips of his fingers and the apex of his nose were freezing in the chilly night air. When he got no response, he knocked again and again.

The patterned curtains got rapidly pushed aside and through the screen door he was met with your face and another unfamiliar one. Your eyes were widened as you looked at him and then at the woman beside you who seemed to be older than you.

Steve awkwardly waved towards you and the other woman, his features morphing into instant regret because a random lady saw him climbing a window like a creep.

The older girl pushed past you and flung open the door. Anger and annoyance written all over her face.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"I– uh– "

"And why the fuck are you climbing into my sister's room like a creep?"

"I'm– I'm not– I'm uh….. sorry?" He stuttered awkwardly.

"You better be! Get the hell out! Or just– just you wait! I'll call everyone so you can never ever. climb. again–", she said with shaking her pointing finger vigorously in his face.

"Kajal wait– I– I know him", you finally spoke up.

"What?"

"I… know him?" You repeated hesitantly before further opening the porch door and then gesturing for him to get in, the boy however refused to budge from his place– not wanting to overstep anymore boundaries.

"How?"

"We're friends", you shrugged awkwardly.

"So, like your boyfriend or something?"

"We're not–", "Well um–", you both spoke up together.

"Because that seems to be the only reasonable reason for him to climb up a window like a creep or maybe he just is a creep–"

"I'm not a creep–"

"(y/n), you forgot to tell me?"

"We're not–", you tried repeating with wide eyes, gaze accidentally locking with Steve's– his big brown almost enchanting ones.

"What's your name anyway?"

"Uh– s- I'm sorry what?" He asked, too caught up in your pupils to pay attention to whatever the lady was asking him.

"Your name?" She repeated, frustrated.

"S– steve"

"Why not use a door to visit your girlfriend Steve?"

"Kajal, we're n–", you tried defending but were stopped when the boy beside you spoke.

"Kajal– you're the..bride?" He said, the gears in his head turning.

"Uhm, uh– yeah. Thats me" She said, lifting up her deep brown stained palms, the shiny ring a contrast against the dark intricate designs on her fingers and hands.

"So, what does your name mean?"

"Do you ask that to everyone?" She asked with squinted eyes.

"Believe me, he does", you chuckled dryly.

"You still haven't answered my question… why the window Romeo?" Kajal repeated again with squinted eyes.

"Because she ignored me"

"Ignored you? I didn't—"

"Oh, really? Why didn't you mention the event that you guys held today." Ok, so you might've forgotten to tell Steve about the mehandi function that was held. But could he really blame you? How could you remember such a small detail after what had almost happened.

"That's because you– because– " Because I kinda forgot because of a certain thing that almost happened between us. "It's a women only thing"

"That's not true", your cousin spoke up beside you with a sceptical look.

"I mean okay, yeah! It's not exclusively women's only but there are little to no guys there so I thought you'd just feel weird"

"Oh c'mon, some guys put on mehandi", Kajal scoffed, "my guy does"

"Again, stop rubbing your fiance in my face"

"Mehandi?" Steve asked, confused.

"Yeah, this", She held her palm up so the boy could see. "We also call it henna", she explained, "it's like a tattoo"

"Except not permanent or painful", you added.

"How do you put it on?" He inquired, curiosity evident in his words.

Kajal's lips turned up into a small smirk before she pulled him by his wrist and you followed them behind to your bed. "Well, this", she said picking up a crumpled up henna cone that you'd hastily thrown on your bed earlier before getting to the window, "is how you put it on", she said before handing the cone to Steve who tried to pipe some into his hand but ended up squirting a giant glob of henna onto his palm.

The boy cursed at the mess, you smiled a little before picking up the scrap piece of clothing and reaching for his hand to wipe the staining substance off. He muttered a 'thanks' into the air at your gesture while trying not to look at you too intently.

"Y'know, it's tradition to hide your partner's name somewhere in the design", Kajal explained.

"You wanna try and find it?" She questioned excitedly, holding up her palm to Steve's face. The boy hesitated a little– the sudden demeanour change from your cousin was honestly startling– before squinting his eyes, looking for the hidden name.

Your cousin couldn't help or hide her smile, her skin a little red. She'd taken every chance to flaunt the mehandi. What she and Ravi had, that was true love, you'd say.

You'd once asked her what it was like and she'd said: when you're together, you're braver, stupider, and calmer– they make you feel like you're the only two to ever exist. But it's a sneaky thing– love, it'll sneak up on you. By the time you realise, it'd be too late. A summon of love can come whenever with no warning.

When you looked at the boy beside her, you couldn't help the corner of your mouth from curling upward. Steve's gaze was fixed in Kajal's palm, eyes going over the deep maroon stained designs, looking for the name. There was a furrow in his brows, one you wished to smooth down. His tongue was slightly sticking out from between his pink lips and your mind wandered back to the night before.

After about a few minutes of squinting his eyes, Steve was able to find it. Kajal grinned at the name as if she didn't already know where the name was. She was so in love.

There was something so special about this all. It felt like two worlds colliding because Steve up until now felt like he was imaginary, like your mind had conjured him up– an imaginary friend or something to keep you company in the cold of hawkins. But now he was there and so was your older cousin-sister and it was like people from your two different lives were meeting one another.

"So, were you putting it on too?" Steve asked, a vague gesture towards your palm that had an unfinished start of mehandi that kajal had started just a minute or two before Steve knocked on your window.

"Yepp", you said looking down at the slightly smudged mehandi before wiping the paste off. "Anyone can put it on"

"Even guys?"

"Totally. If they want to", Kajal said.

"Want me to put some on?" It was more of a request than a question. "I'll make it small and unnoticeable, pleasee", you dragged out the 'please', adding furrowed brows and pleading eyes– a puppy dog expression.

"Okay, okay, fine", and how could Steve say no to you when you looked so damn cute doing it.

"You know maybe we can find a bit about your partner", Kajal spoke up, looking between you two– the ghost of a smirk on her lips.

"About my partner?" Steve asked, confused.

"It's a thing that mother's or grandmothers say– they say that the darker and deeper the shade of mehandi stain, the more loving partner you will have"

"Does it actually work?"

"It sure does for me! I think I got the most loving one"

"ok, thank you for bringing that up.. again", you rolled your eyes again.

"Might as well give it a try", Steve shrugged.

You sighed and laid on your stomach on the bed, placing Steve's hand in front of you– his palm splayed out for you to do your thing. You took a henna cone from your cousin and decided on making a small yet intricate design for the boy's palm. You took his palm in yours, his skin somehow warmer than yours despite him being out in the cold just a minute ago.

Steve was holding his breath, he knew that you could probably sense it so he tried his best to even the breathing. He failed. How could he? With your soft fingers holding his hand, sneakily stealing his warmth. He pretended that you weren't holding his hand because you were doing henna but because you were doing just that– holding his hand, just for the sake of it. The thought made his cheeks pink and hands a little trembly.

"Are you cold?"

"A– a little", he cleared his throat.

You murmured a soft 'here' before placing a fuzzy blanket on his shoulders. Steve thanked you with a shy smile and you returned it. Kajal looked between you two, she seemed to be the only one noticing the intricacies of this interaction.

You continued piping on the henna on Steve's palm. He wasn't sure what was more mesmerising– the detailed henna or you.

You with strands of hair falling from your lazily tied bun, you who was absentmindedly biting your lips as you concentrated, and you with your slightly colder hand holding his.

Steve realised that the henna could never compare to you, nothing could. You would always be more mesmerising than anything. He could just keep watching you, and stopping would never even cross his mind once.

Your gaze was on the boy's palm, never wavering. Holding the hand close to your face, forehead moulded into scrunched lines as your warm breath fanned over Steve's skin. Goosebumps arose in his skin as he realised it but you still didn't, the proximity the two of you had at that moment. It took all of him to avert his eyes from you. Eyes then looking over the mostly clean room that Kajal had helped you clean.

There was a knock at the bedroom door, both your and Steve's eyes shot up at the sound. the boy beside you stilled. Your cousin got up from her place to go towards the door.

"Kaju?" You whispered out, whipping out the nickname to convince kajal. You then gestured with your eyes towards Steve, as the boy looked between the two of you, confused. She nodded once, understanding you wordlessly– you didn't want anyone to see him.

"(Y/n)? Is Kajal in there? I have chai"

"Yes, I'm here, just wait, I'm coming", she responded to the door before turning towards you and the boy beside you, "Want tea?"

"Obviously", you whispered back.

"Was asking the white boy", the said boy nodded.

Kajal turned again and padded towards the door, making sure to barely open the door so Steve wasn't within the view range of her fiance.

"What're you guys doing in there?" Ravi asked Kajal. The man was holding a kettle and some paper cups with him.

"Uh, mehandi?" She said unsurely, "Look at mine!" She held up her pal to his face. He let out a playful huff before pouring two cups of tea.

"You're already shown me like three times… still looks amazing", he said with a small smirk.

"One more please", she said looking at the two cups in his hands.

"That's three cups", Ravi stated.

"Yeah and I love chai ok?" She said with a defensive tone.

"Yeah, trust me I know. But as your fiance", he paused,"I won't allow it. You've already had two cups"

"I'll divorce you if you separate me and my chai", she deadpanned.

"First, we're not married yet so you can't divorce me. Second, I wish you were this possessive over me. Third, You're still getting one cup."

"It's not for me, for (y/n)"

Ravi paused and finally let out a huff and caved. He poured the third cup. Kajal tried holding it but her hands were already full. "Here let me–" before she could say anything he pushed past her into the room to put the cup on the table.

You and Steve had been talking in hushed voices, all of it halted when you saw Ravi standing at the doorway.

"What in the— harrington?" Steve immediately sprung up from the bed, "What is he doing here?" He asked with a pointed finger jumping between you and Kajal.

"I invited him", you spoke up.

"Invited him?" Ravi echoed.

"Ravi.." Steve started.

"Ravi, calm down its fine– he's her boyfriend"

"No, we're not–" you and Steve both interrupted.

"I don't care what they are. I want him out of here", he said with his voice slightly higher than normal.

"You do know that he's just trying to get into your pants right?"

"Ravi-", Kajal tried to calm him down.

"Please Kajal, he's an asshole who would bully everyone just to feel better about himself." It's out of the bag now. Steve had his eyes trained on his shoes. The room was quiet and the air thick with tension.

"....what?" You finally broke the silence with all but a weak whisper. When Steve looked up at you, you were looking right back at him, he turned back to the other man in the room.

"Look, Ravi, I wanna apologise–"

"No man, I don't need your half assed apology. I need you to get out."

Steve gulped before nodding once and walked out the room.

"What the hell was that Ravi?" Kajal said.

"I'm sorry, Kajal. I just– he and his senior friends, they were— I'm sorry, I shouldn't have shouted. I'm sorry, (y/n) but you know why I moved out of here in the first place, right?"

You nodded after a moment, "I do", you whispered.

"He's an asshole (y/n), school was torture because of him and his friends "

"But what if he's changed now?" You asked.

"I'll have to see it first to believe it."

....

Steve was sitting in his car, the engine turned off. His hands were on the steering wheel, eyes unfocused, staring off into the distance.

He hated himself.

An asshole who would bully others just to feel better about himself. Yep, that was apt.

Steve thought he had changed, he thought he had proved it but he hated that the world still saw him as 'king steve'. The fake persona he had put on so people would like him, something that just wasn't ever there.

Dread filled his heart at the sight of you hearing all of that about him, however true it might've been at some point. Steve had thought maybe he could keep you out of this.

Before he knew it, his feet led him to the door of the house. He paused a beat, deciding then and there that he was going to make things right. He knocked on the door, determined to right his past wrongs.

When the door creaked open, he was met with Ravi''s face.

....

Steve knocked at your bedroom door and when you didn't audibly respond, he slowly creaked the door open. Your room seemed empty, no movement save for the flowing curtain next to the door that opened to the balcony which he had climbed onto earlier.

He ambled further towards the balcony door and that's when he caught a glance of you. You were sitting on the floor, a blanket wrapped around your frame, fingers grasping around the neck of a wine bottle while you stared at the sky.

The moonlight hit your face, gleaming. Stray hair strands flowed with the breeze before you tucked them behind your ear.

Steve quietly opened the door as if he'd ruin the pretty view in front of him if he made a single sound. The door still creaked, however you didn't look at him, only clearing your throat as an acknowledgement.

"Are you gonna drink that entire bottle all alone?"

"No, I was waiting for you, actually", you said while still not looking at him. Steve sat on the cold floor beside you, an involuntary shiver ran down his spine.

You lifted the blanket on your shoulder, an offer for the boy beside you— an indirect warm hug. Your shoulders brushed and tried your best to keep an even breathing. Steve tightly wrapped the blanket around the two of you, cocooning you both. Your gaze was still on anything but Steve.

"I apologised to Ravi", he finally broke the silence.

"I know", you went to try to open the bottle, struggling, "What did he say?"

"Says he accepts my apology but doesn't forgive me yet", Steve offered you a hand, you gladly handed him the bottle. His arm muscles flexed as he struggled a little with the cork.

You managed to steal a glance of his face before he could notice and saw his eyebrows knitted together, hair a little flatter and you wished to run your hands through the coffee coloured strands like you did the night before. You clenched your fist and quickly averted your gaze before you could do anything like that.

The bottle opened with a pop, he flashed a grin when you finally looked him in the eyes. He paused in his movements before you gave him a soft smile and took the bottle back.

You took a swig of the bottle, you hummed at the unfamiliar taste– you weren't sure if you liked it so you took another swig. You weren't a big fan of it.

You once again turned your head back to the sky. "He'll get around. All those years here and all the shit he went through, its ought to affect a person, doesn't it?", You tilted the bottle towards the boy, another offer.

"… yeah", he whispered before taking the bottle from you.

"The funny thing is when he shifted out of here, the bullying never stopped. Because to the kids there, he was too American– he could never win. And he was so, so scared. The first friend he ever made there was Kajal and they just fit. But that took him almost a year. When he first came there, he was so quiet, so scared, like he'd broken the part of his brain that allowed him to make friends."

Silence. A beat.

"I know what it does to people. These past couple years, I'm trying to right all the shit I did. Trying to be better, trying to change", Steve explained.

"That's good", you nodded curtly.

"But I know I've still got a long way to go"

"You do."

You stayed quiet for a while. The only sounds that were audible were distant cars and the chill wind rustling against the curtain by the balcony.

"What're you thinking?" Steve once again broke the quiet.

"Uh, nothing— I just— I realised that we've been friends for a week now and I don't really know anything about you. Who knows what else you're hiding from me", you joked a little trying to lighten the mood.

"It has been just a week, though"

"But I'll just be here for a few more"

"I…guess you're right", he sighed.

"So tell me something about yourself", you said.

"Um….. like what?" You let out a playful scoff, taking the halfway empty bottle from his hand and then holding a palm out for a handshake.

"Hi, I'm (y/n) (l/n)." You stated with a smile.

"Hi…I'm Steve Harrington", he returned it.

"What's your favourite colour, Steve Harrington?"

".. really?" He questioned with quizzical eyebrows.

"Just answer the question", you rolled your eyes.

"Um…. I don't think I have one."

"Decide one now"

"Oh, um– ok. I mean, blue is pretty nice, but then this red you're wearing is also good– it's also the colour of my car, but also yellow…?"

"Yellow?"

"Yeah, not fluorescent yellow, but golden yellow– like sunflowers and stuff. I have a sweatshirt that colour and I think it's my favourite one"

"It's settled then, Steve Harrington– yellow"

"What's yours?"

"Maroon, same as my sweater— my grandma made this because it's my favourite colour"

"It looks great"

"Thank you"

Talk of favourite musicians led to talk of your favourite movies (both Steve and you struggled to find a common ground in it). Talk of favourite movies led to talk of each other's past, then favourite subjects in school and then future plans.

"Ok, my turn– who's your favourite singer?"

Steve had gotten rejected from his dream college, and you were preparing to get into medical school.

You talked more and drank more and somehow all this talk led to Steve (in his drunken state) sharing confidential knowledge– that the boy had signed an NDA for.

"You know, I fought an interdimensional monster…. Multiple times actually"

"..what?" You asked with squinted eyes.

"Yeah, and there were Russians too"

".. Russians?"

"Yeah and then there was this…. flesh monster"

"Is that a euphemism?"

"No, no– it was a literal flesh monster", he explained with a chuckle, "And honestly I don't remember much– but yeah, it was pretty strange"

"Please I've seen stranger things"

"I doubt it"

"I have."

"I literally told you about a flesh monster. What else is stranger than that?"

"You expect me to believe that? Like, really? A flesh monster? You can't handle your alcohol", you chuckled. if only you knew how true it was. "Did you know that this is my first time drinking? And look at me, I'm handling it sooooo well!"

"Wow, you handle your alcohol pretty good", he snorted.

"Hopefully you're not too hungoverrr tomorrow for the Sangeet "

"Sangeet?" He echoed with a tilt of his head.

"Yeah, everyone sings songss and daances– it's great and funnnn", you said a little bit too loud, dragging out words while swaying a little.

"Am I invited?"

"I'd be offended if you didn't come, actually"

"Wouldn't want to do that", he stated while laughing a little. His eyes glanced over to his wrist watch, "Oh Jesus, the time– you need to go to bed"

"Oh c'mon it was starting to get interestinggg", you complained.

"It got plenty interesting", he chided like a parent.

"Well, I'm not moving", you whined with a pout, arms crossed dramatically over your chest.

"Oh, come on (y/n)", he said with his hands to his hips. when you showed no signs of moving, "well then I'll just have to do this". he sighed before bending down and picking you up bridal style, you giggled while wrapping your arms around his neck, a wide grin plastered on your features as he carried you to the bed.

"You're so dramatic, you know that?" Steve said with a lazy smile.

You giggled again, tightening your arms around his, slightly nuzzling your face in the junction of his neck and shoulder. "No, you're dramatic! I'm justtt… well seasoned", you mumbled into his sweater that smelled like faded cologne, mint gum and a hint of vanilla.

"You sure are", he chuckled and then carefully placed you among the pillows and fuzzy blankets. He was about to stand straight up but your hands were still tightly wrapped around his neck, restricting him to move away.

"(Y/n)..." He all but whispered into the still air of the room.

"Steve?" After a pause, you mumbled in your half asleep state, fist grasping the fabric of his sweater— refusing to let go. And as you looked into his coffee brown eyes, a silent question hung in the air– a wordless request– a plea to stay. You wanted to say it out loud, maybe you had. It was hard to remember when your mind was so hazy.

You had said it. You probably didn't even know. You definitely didn't know how to handle your alcohol.

God, did Steve want to stay. He wanted to stay and keep watching you– not in a creepy way of course. Steve could just keep watching you, he could keep laughing at your jokes, keep telling you stories and jokes– just to hear your laugh, he could make himself go insane just staring at you. All he wanted was to be near you and never leave.

All in all, he wanted to stay. But he couldn't. He knew what it meant. And stupidly so, Steve had made a self-imposed rule to be friends with you and nothing more, that is why he'd pulled away the previous night and that is why he was pulling away now.

Steve had always been a hopeless romantic, but with you, falling in love seemed like the easiest– the most natural. And he already had.

She'll leave soon.

Steve let out a breath and then unwounded your arms from around his neck, placing them on either of your side.

Now, just turn and leave….. to your empty house.

You looked up at him, big pleading yet sleepy eyes and eyebrows scrunched together in anticipation of what the boy would do.

No. Don't.

Steve bent down again, placing a chaste kiss on the top of your head. You let out a soft sigh, eyes closing at the warm breath on your temple.

"Good night (y/n)", he murmured into your hair. When he stood straight up, he was met with the slow rise and fall of your chest, indicating that you were asleep.

He smiled a little, then pulled the blanket over your frame and finally he left for his empty house.

....

Steve was wearing a baby pink kurta that actually fit him, courtesy of Ravi. You couldn't help but look at him. His sleeves were rolled up, forehead a little sweaty despite the cold climate as he carried trays of rooh-afza to the guests. Steve had offered to help around to prove himself to Ravi and the older boy had let him do so while providing him with clothes that actually fit him.

That was Ravi's olive branch to Steve.

The brown eyed boy walked over to the group you were sitting with. He held the tray between the two of you, offering you a glass. A small and shy smile grew on your face before you reached for a glass, mumbling a little 'thank you'. Steve nodded with a boyish grin and your eyes followed him as he moved to give the beverage to others there.

"Enough with the longing glances", Kajal spoke up beside you, making you jump a little as your cousin broke you out of your Steve induced trance.

"There are no longing glances"

"Sure, and I'm not getting married", she commented sarcastically, "the way you look at each other, it's the textbook definition of longing glances"

You rolled your eyes, "he doesn't look at me like that. Plus, I'm pretty sure he has a girlfriend"

"And who's that?"

"The girl he came with, he works with her", you explained curtly, "And why would he ever want to be with someone like me?"

"So are you implying that you have feelings?"

"I don't know"

"I mean, you drank with the man– that has to mean something", you glared at her, "What? i noticed you stealing sneaking away with that bottle and who else would you have drunk an entire bottle of wine with?" Kajal giggled, "Plus you also said he kissed you in your dream-- that very much means feelings"

"On my forehead", you mumbled so no one could eavesdrop.

"How scandalous", she deadpanned.

"but in the dream he also told me that he fought monsters– do you think that means something?" You asked with raised eyebrows.

"Look, all I'm saying is", she sighed, "give it a shot. You'll be leaving in a few weeks anyway. Worst case scenario, he doesn't feel the same."

"I can think of worse scenarios."

"Of Course you can– tell me when you figure it out. I'll go and show up my fiance on the fucking dance floor"

You smirked as she said so. And she did so. Kajal had always been extremely energetic. Like a small ball of electricity.

Soon she started to pull in other family members into the group, including you.

Steve watched you in the crowd with the empty tray and a glass of the beverage for himself. You looked so fucking pretty.

You had a pastel pink dress with golden yellow details on– and you looked like a princess.

Your hair was put into an intricate braid with flowers in it. Your mehandi was a deep maroon, the shade matching the small unfinished henna design on his own palm. Your eyes were twinkling like the stars, and your face, the moon–and the only word that came to mind was beautiful.

Your brows were up in delight. A wide grin was spread across your face and crinkles around your eyes. A glint of mischief in your sparkling eyes.

You beckoned him to join the crowd. But before he could do so, raindrops started falling out of nowhere. He was sure he hadn't noticed any clouds the entire day, or maybe you had distracted him. You were a good distraction afterall.

Steve asked himself why. Why did you have that effect on him? You barely knew each other, you'd met like a couple weeks ago. But he was happier than he had ever been. Even though he spent his nights in his empty house, evenings were a little lighter after talking to you.

What was it about you and this situation between you two– of teetering on the line of friends or something else. All of it had to mean something, right? Or was he just making this all up in his head?

Steve almost wanted to ask you, whisper the question into your ears, whether your sunsets were colourful as his were recently.

He wondered how you would respond. He seems to dream more during the day than at night. maybe you'd feel the same– he hoped. And you might have no clue or maybe you were completely aware, playing with his poor innocent heart.

Steve was staring at you again and you wondered if he even heard the speakers and music turning off or if he even noticed that all the other people had scrambled to seek shelter. You quickly grabbed his wrist and pulled him into shade.

"Are you okay?" You asked through a heaving chest. His eyes were trained on your face that had droplets of water rolling down your lashes, cheeks and then lips.

She'll leave soon.

He let out a "yeah" with a breath. You turned to wring your hair and dress a little. Steve's fingers carded through his dripping hair.

No. Don't.

The summon of love can come whenever, with no warning. And right at this moment, a call for Steve Harrington's name was echoing through the cold Hawkins air. Reverbing through the rainfall.

He called out your name, his hand held out– the henna design you'd made on his palm a deep brown– golden flakes swimming in his brown expecting eyes. You flashed him a quizzical look at his gesture. He silently posed like he was ball dancing with an invisible person, he swayed a couple times– eyes still asking a silent question.

You mouthed "no music", a weak excuse.

"Who needs music", Steve spoke with a wide smirk over thunder and the constant pitter-patter of raindrops. He held his hand out again.

You didn't care if anyone was looking.

you didn't realise how cold you'd been before you placed your hand into his larger and warmer one. Steve immediately pulled you into his broad chest, your breath hitched, faces just mere inches away.

Stop it, Steve. Stop.

Steve was just the right person to offer you some heat. Your face became too hot at the proximity. You felt a warmth spread across the small of your back– your lehenga giving him access directly to your skin there. Steve's palm splayed across your colder skin. Surely, you had melted as any and all stiffness disappeared from your muscles.

Stop. Before you fuck this up.

Your arms moved to wrap around the back of his neck.

Pull away, Harrington—

And before you knew it, you were moving. Steve was leading you, making you follow a beat that didn't exist. And you were just getting used to the movements when–

"I'm gonna spin you", he muttered, lips turned into a slight smirk.

"What?--"

As promised, the boy spun you, the movement dizzying. Then you were once again pulled into his chest, his hands once again on your waist, yours around his neck.

"You okay?" he asked. You nodded, quickly letting out the breath you'd been holding.

And you danced, you weren't sure how long, but you danced and through it all Steve Harrington made you feel like you were the only one that mattered. He spun you, he went as far as to dip you, pulling you back up as a fit of giggles erupted from your throat.

It all felt a little unreal. The golden rays of the sunset filtered through the rain clouds. The raindrops felt like specs of the golden sun falling down on you. And maybe if you looked up, you'd see a rainbow, but you couldn't. Not when there was Steve Harrington in front of you.

It was in that moment did you realise that Steve Harrington was someone important, someone who'll matter so much more, someone who'd be a recurring character in your life. Someone who'd steal a part of you and you'd simply let him.

At that moment you realised that Steve Harrington felt like home.

You had found home on the other side of the planet from your real one, in a boy you'd known for very little time.

Soon your movements slowed down, reduced to the two of you just swaying. Once again, a question hung in the air. an invisible line washed off by the rain. And as the two of you looked at each other, only one thing remained: anticipation for what's to come next.

Your eyes locked into Steve's, waiting with bated breath. It was like you were magnets– an invisible force pulling you two. You were sure you weren't imagining it yet you didn't shut your eyes, afraid that it'll all disappear into thin air when you do so. Deciding to only close them when it actually happens, but it never did.

"..Steve?" A raspy voice popped your bubble.

The boy in question quickly sprung away from you, carding his fingers through his wet locks. The person who'd interrupted the two of you was Steve's co-worker. Beside her was a younger boy with curly hair (who had a huge grin on his face) and behind them were a few other young teens (who had a smirk on their faces). You shifted uncomfortably on your feet, stepping a little further away from steve.

"Robin?" He quickly turned to the girl, "what happened?"

"I was gonna say that– that we should leave and drop the kids off but if you wanna stay–"

"No, no", he interrupted her, shaking his head, "it's okay", he mumbled before he started to move out of the bubble you two had been in.

"Bye", you whispered just to him but you didn't get a response or acknowledgement whether the boy had ever heard you.

The cold air started to finally seep in and no longer was there a certain brown haired boy to heat you up.

....

Steve didn't show up that night, neither the next night, or the one after it.

And as much as you'd come to know Steve Harrington in the past days is that he's clingy– enough to climb up your window if you didn't talk for one day.

So that made you believe that you had in fact done something wrong. Maybe, you'd made him uncomfortable and he hadn't leaned in, maybe your stupid mind had imagined that too, like how it prefers to imagine that the boy stared at your lips because he wants to and not because he has a hearing disability.

So, yeah, you hadn't seen Steve for three days. And you were worried. So you asked Kajal to drive you over to Family Video.

When you walked in, you weren't greeted with Steve's face instead with the same girl who'd interrupted you and the boy.

'Hi… Steve gave me these. Is he–?'

"No shift today"

"Oh, okay"

"I can help with movies too, you know– I'm actually better at them", she said while leaning on the counter, "I'm Robin by the way", she said while pointing at her name tag on her vest.

"(Y/n)"

"I know", she said as her mouth curved into a smirk– considering that Steve never shuts up about you.

"I– I'm actually here for some– American movies", you said like it was more of a question than a statement, "since I am in America"

"Well, then– then I've got some classics for you. If you'll allow me"

"Sure"

The blonde girl led you through the aisles and the different genres and different movies that she recommended while you nodded along– trying to keep up with her fast rambling. You came to know that Robin knew a lot about movies.

After some consultation and considering that lasted ten to fifteen minutes, you decided on one movie. Which Robin was now ringing up.

"Look– I know you're not actually here for the tapes– you're here for Steve", she broke the silence before clearing her throat and asking, "D'you… both have something going on?"

"Um– no, we're– you don't have to worry"

"Why would I worry?" She wondered aloud with a tilt of her head.

"Because…you seem– you're…. Together?"

"Ew. No. We're not. Under any circumstances. He's my best friend, yes. But that's like it. It entirely, completely, utterly, absolutely, fully, wholly, in every which way, in all respects platonic. With a capital P"

"Okay"

"That day….", Robin's voice trailed off, " I– I interrupted, didn't i?"

"Um, no no!" You said with a shake of your head, "He was going to pull away anyway and I shouldn't have done that. Maybe he's angry with me– i don't know"

"He's not– trust me. He just needs some sense knocked into him. Steve– he has this thing– he sometimes….. disappears?"

"Disappears?"

"Sometimes, he just doesn't talk to anyone– doesn't pick up phone calls, doesn't respond, scares the shit out of me– to be honest it's a problem and I've tried talking to him but he's just so shut off those days and then he'll show up next day absolutely normal– like he didn't just scare the living hell out of me the previous day"

".. why?"

"I..", she trailed off, " i don't know– i never got past him." You shoulders sagged, fingers fidgeting with the fraying yarn of your sweater.

"(Y/n)", she called your name out before nudging the tape you had chosen towards you."You have to return the movie by tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?", You echoed with knitted eyebrows, "I thought it was next week"

"No, you watch the movie today and return it tomorrow. Please." She spoke with determinance.

"Robin", you said with another shake of your head.

"I know you want to"

"Would he want me to?"

"Why don't you come by and find out."

....

The next day you walked through the chilly autumn breeze to go to the video store.

And there he was, in all his messy brown-haired glory. The boy didn't turn at the sound of the door bell, too concentrated in arranging the tapes in an alphabetical order– surely singing the abc's under his breath to remember what comes after j.

Robin's face, who was standing next to him, lit up at seeing you. She tapped Steve's shoulder, pointing with her eyes towards you.

When your gaze met, it was like your first meeting all over again. All fast heart palpitations, hitched breaths and warm cheeks.

The way Steve's face dropped a little didn't go unnoticed by you but you were determined to….. you weren't sure what. But you were determined. Maybe to interrogate him as to why he almost kissed you when he first climbed up the window, maybe to ask him why he almost kissed you at the Sangeet, maybe you just wanted to talk to him because in all honesty, you missed him and you also needed answers as to why the boy had been ignoring you for seemingly no reason.

Robin clapped her hand against Steve's shoulder and walked over to the counter to maybe give the two of you some privacy. However much to her surprise and Steve's, you didn't walk up to the brown eyed boy, instead padded to the counter, "here to return this", you muttered.

"Um– ok!"

Steve walked up to the counter, beside you. He awkwardly cleared his throat as to let you know of his presence, as if you weren't already aware. When your eyes stayed averted, fixed on the cover of the movie tape you had rented, he finally spoke up "(Y/n)..."

"Hey, Steve", you responded curtly.

"Hey..", he cleared his throat, communicating with Robin almost telepathically. She turned and made her way to the comedy aisle after handing your tapes to Steve. He started to ring up the movie tapes, not uttering a single word. The air was thick, and the store was silent.

"Steve," you reckoned it was easier to just rip the bandaid off, "why didn't you pick up my calls?" You finally broke the silence.

"I–"

I almost did it again. Even though I'm not supposed to.

Because you scare me. You and your pretty face, you and your eyes, the way you smell, the way you do everything.

You scare me. But everytime I look into your eyes, I'm suddenly not scared. I'm suddenly brave and stupid. Stupid enough to do shit that I'll probably end up regretting.

"I'm…. Stupid"

You broke into a smile that you didn't want to let on to the boy infront of you, "you really are." You had probably let the boy off the hook too easily, but you missed him.

"I'm really sorry"

"It's fine steve. I promise", you said with a small smile.

The boy grinned before moving behind the counter, "Y'know I tried to watch one of those bollywood movies– I didn't understand anything", he said changing the subject.

"Well naturally. They aren't dubbed or subtitled."

"Yeah, I realised so", he said before his smiled dropped, "I'm really sorry, (y/n)", he started with an earnest look in his golden eyes, "I just–"

"Just what?"

Got scared.

"I just–" he hesitated again, "I wanna make it up to you"

You paused, thinking for a moment. You then took the tapes from the counter, "Are you free after work today?"

Steve nodded.

"D'you like kids steve?"

"Um.. y-yeah, love 'em"

You hummed, "come by at the house. Don't use the windows, please"

....

The sun had just set, and Steve had turned the open sign to a close sign before leaving for your home. everything had a golden hue to it, as he drove through Hawkins street. The air was quiet when he stopped at the gift shop near melvalds, picking up a bouquet as perhaps an apology– how does one apologize for almost kissing someone and ghosting the same person for days on end?

You had been very cryptic with your invitation. As he drove through the chill autumn air, he wondered why you had asked him if he "liked kids"? He reckoned he'd come to find out soon. That's one thing he'd noticed in the little time he'd come to know you– you weren't much of a talker. Like yeah, you talked but you didn't talk. You're pretty selective with words and how many you say. Perhaps it was because of the language barrier or perhaps that's just how you were.

He rang the bell, he chuckled internally when he realised that he hadn't used the bell at your house up until now because he wa too busy climbing up windows.

A few seconds later, the door swung open. And there you were, hair in a loose braid, a baggy tshirt hung on your frame and a baby bouncing on your hip.

"Hi", you smiled widely.

"Hi", he smiled back while holding up the flowers. The baby in your arms babbled at the sight of the colourful flowers. "Hello to you too", he cooed at the baby girl with a lopsided grin. The baby was practically jumping in your arms to reach out for the steel rimmed glasses that rested on Steve's nose. And that when you noticed that he was wearing glasses– you didn't even know he wore glasses as you'd never seen him with them before. That would explain why he sometimes squints when looking at things up close. It also didn't go unnoticed by you that he looked incredible with the added glasses. Lo and behold, your cheeks were warming up again.

"You're wearing glasses", you stated the obvious.

"Yeah, doctor prescribed but they feel weird to wear– I kinda look like a nerd."

You were about to tell the boy that there's nothing wrong with wearing glasses and that he should but before you could do so– A shriek rang out behind you in the house. "I'm sorry", you apologised, "I'm babysitting all the kids, all adults are out"

You shouted back into the house at what he assumed were the kids— your cousins. He wasn't sure what you shouted exactly but it sounded similar to himself when around the party.

You turned back to him, smiled and told him to get inside. The boy thanked you as he took his shoes off by the door and followed behind you through the house.

"It suits you actually", you declared. The boy scrunched his brows. "Your glasses– I mean"

Steve pushed them further up his nose before murmuring a shy "thanks".

You then led Steve to the living room, which had the TV. You then tried to watch a movie but one of your cousins interuppted you two and stole the remote saying that he wanted to watch his cartoons. You rolled your eyes and sighed before leading Steve into another room.

With nothing else to entertain you, you settled on playing some carrom and then some Ludo. The brown haired boy beside you told you that he had never played the games before, so you gave him a little crash course all the while the toddler in your lap tried to put the pieces in her mouth. Every now and then, a random and different cousin would come and make the astute observation that there was a boy with you while wiggling their brows and leaving for whatever they were doing before.

You won a game of Ludo while Steve actually managed to beat you at a game of carrom.

Steve was holding your sister now while you walked towards the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets to hopefully find a hidden snack.

"Chai?" You offered when you found nothing of your interest.

"Sure", he whispered so as to not disturb the toddler who was resting her chin on his shoulder– her eyes droopy as she was nearly pulled to sleep. You and me both, sister, you thought.

The baby in Steve's arms let out a soft barely audible yet adorable snore, a smile broke out both your faces at the sound.

"I think you should put her to bed", you whispered.

"Yes ma'am", he saluted you jokingly before turning to put the baby in her bed. You smiled to yourself at the domesticity of it all.

By the time Steve came back, you had already set up a pot and milk. You then proceeded to add the ingredients that your mother had taught you– tea leaves, ginger, black pepper, and sugar.

The boy beside you hummed while leaning against the counter, "smells amazing"

"Thank you", you said while taking the pot off the heat, "Get the cups?"

Steve looked through a couple cupboards before finding the cups, he then took two cups out and placed them on the counter in front of you. You poured the aromatic and piping hot tea through a sieve into the cups.

You both blew on the steaming tea and finally took a sip and Steve did the same. You drew your eyebrows up as a silent question of how it was.

Steve's brows flew up, eyes widened, he blinked while nodding, "oh, wow. That's good." You smiled shyly, tucking a stray hair strand behind your ears.

He took more sips and while he did so, you took your own, appreciating how he looked. He looked so pretty. You wanted to say it– out loud, to him. you actually wanted to say a lot more to him actually. How many times your heart might've said it, and how many times did you listen? If you tried, you could even find happiness in his no, you knew that much. But if he said yes, that would be something else.

You placed your cup back on the counter, still looking at him, entranced by the freckles and moles on his skin, how his hair cascaded down to his forehead. His eyes met yours– his chestnut pupils glistening with the same golden flecks, his mahogany strands still on his forehead and you wished to run your fingers through the hair. His eyebrows pulled slightly together.

There was a magnetic pull between you two– there always had been. And you just hoped that he somewhat felt the same. Your eyes closed and your nose touched his, his warm breath on your skin, warming it up. Something you realised, Steve hadn't pulled away…. Yet.

"Are you sure?" Steve asked in the faintest whisper. You looked up at him, wishing to somehow communicate all that you wished to tell him, all you felt for him. But you didn't, instead you just nodded and crashed your lips together.

You weren't sure where this courage was coming from. Recently, you'd realised, you were more restless, more impulsive, braver.

Your chest warmed up when Steve brought his one hand to your waist to hold you steady and his other to hold your cheek. His calloused fingers rubbing the soft skin. You could taste chai he had just had on his tongue. He hummed into the kiss and when you pulled away, there was a small smile on your face.

Your chests were heaving, "Are you ok–" Steve was interrupted by your lips meeting once again. He let out a sigh into the kiss and kissed you back as his hands went up to delicately hold either side of your face as yours did the same. You pulled away again.

"I am", you whispered, "Are you?"

He nodded slightly before leaning down to peck your lips again. But before he could pull away, you wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss.

It was as if you were floating. Warmth spread throughout your skin as butterflies erupted in your chest. This was the warmest you'd even been, your skin buzzed as your lips moved in tandem.

Suddenly, a shriek rang in the house. You and Steve immediately pulled away, breathing heavily. The shriek morphed into a continuous cry of a baby– it was your sister, she had woken up.

You cursed under breath and then made way to the room steve had put your sister in. Steve arrived a few moments later, both your tea cups in hand, and a pink hue brushed over his cheeks. You let your sister cling to your shoulder. You swayed your body to lull her back to sleep, all the while looking at Steve.

You hummed a tune to your sister, who soon quieted down. And Steve wished he could kiss you again. Were you the dream he saw? The one he's been looking for? 'cause you felt unreal. A mystery he wanted to discover but keep it all to himself.

You put your sister in her crib and then pulled Steve to your room.

There was change in the air between the two of you but it wasn't a bad one.

You wanted to ask him whether what you did was okay. But he already had his lips on yours and that was enough of an answer.

That night, you kissed, looked at each other, held each others hand and traced the deep hued mehandi in his palm. And when it got late, you still held his hand– not wanting to let go. So he stayed. He stayed and you put oil in his hair again. Then he kissed you again.

That night as you watched the rise and fall of his chest as he lay in your bed, you wondered whether you'd even see him the next day. Whether Ravi was right of him just wanting to get into your pants. For him to just get a notch under his belt. Sure you hadn't slept together. But you had kissed and that was big for you. As you drifted off to sleep, you hoped for one thing that you found him there the next day.

You did.

The next day Steve took you out to a diner. And the day after, he gave you a tour of the town.

The day after that, he decided to host a pool party as it was a relatively warmer day. He had also invited Robin and the 'kids'-- as Robin had called them earlier.

Steve introduced you to them, told you their names and a little about them. Dustin, the curly haired boy with a wide grin who always had a cap on his head. Mike, a tall boy with raven hair. Max, the girl with fiery red hair who mostly kept to herself. And Lucas, a dark skinned boy who kept stealing glances towards Max every now and then. The group also mentioned other people who weren't there– Will and El.

The way Steve interacted with the kids, was reminiscent of how you were with your cousins. It warmed your heart when he pulled out snacks for you, Robin and the kids.

No one really jumped in the pool– the water being too cold. At one point it got warm enough that Steve and a couple of the boys took their shirts off. You then spended most of your time, just staring at Steve. And you did everything in your power to restrain yourself to trace your fingers over the moles and freckles on his back to write your name on it.

He then laid in the sun beside you, talked to you, told you stories and little snippets about the kids. Your heart would swell whenever he would laugh at his own jokes and you wished that you could play that sound on repeat.

The party ended when Steve playfully pushed you into the pool and jumped in after you. And you were laughing, no inkling of anger or annoyance because despite the cold water and air, you were warm– cocooned by Steve's arms. It all felt like home. A warm cosy home and Steve was starting to let you in. Maybe you could start to do the same.

....

You hadn't seen Steve in almost a week now. You didn't know why, you had thought everything was going great between you two. The previous night, he had taken you to lovers lake and you two had stargazed and had a picnic. He had dropped you back home. He had kissed you before leaving.

It all had seemed fine. So why had you not seen him for a week?

Kajal and your cousins kept inviting you to got out and have some fun with them but you kept cancelling those plans and kept waiting by the telephone, waiting for his call. But it never came. whenever you tried to call him, you were met with nothing but the same voicemail.

This particular night you were doing just the same, waiting.

You were jolted awake from your half asleep state. There was a knock at your window, your heart skipped a beat at the sound– knowing full well who would visit you at such an hour through the window.

You very quickly sprang out of the bed and made way to the door. When you opened the door you were met with the same amber eyes, dishevelled brown hair and boyish grin.

Before you could say anything, his lips were on yours as he let both of you in, closing the door behind him without ever disconnecting your lips. His hand gripped your waist while the other held the back of your head.

"Steve–", you mumbled against his lips, palm on his chest so as to break away from the kiss, "steve– stop"

"Baby? W–" he pulled back, a frown in his lips, eyebrows scrunched together.

"Where were you last week?" You interrogated.

"I– I–", he stuttered, "I was busy"

"Busy? With what?"

"My parents needed my help–"

"I thought you told me that they weren't going to be here for three more weeks"

"I– well, I–"

"If you were so busy then how did you manage time with Robin?"

"'cause I work with her!"

"Yet you were always not there when I came or called you"

"That's not true!"

"It's been a week, Steve! You've been ignoring me for a week! For no reason. You don't even show me your face for a week and then a week later you immediately start just kissing me?!"

"So, what, you expect me to always follow you around like a puppy?" He said a little too loudly.

"..is that what you feel about us?"

"What do you feel about us, then?" It wasn't like Steve never noticed it. You weren't much of a speaker, especially personal things.

"....i– i– we're–"

"'cause you wouldn't fucking tell me!"

"What are we? Huh? Friends who kiss? Boyfriend-girlfriend? What are we? Or do you expect me to always walk behind you like a clueless puppy who doesn't know anything till you leave?" He looked down at you, eyes a little glassy. "You'll leave and go back to your own life and I'll be here with nothing! God forbid, I actually have my own life"

"Because that's how you want it, right? You want me to follow you but the second you have to follow me suddenly I'm the bad guy!"

You couldn't stop the tears thg had sprung up in your eyes. You wanted to apologise to him and hold him for the rest of the night, instead-- "you should leave now, Steve", you tried your best to hide the quiver in your voice, but you failed.

"(Y/n)--" he started while moving towards you but you stepped back.

"Go…. Please", you refused to show him your glassy eyes. and just like that you closed the door on his face.

You held the door knob, staring at the wood grain– realising what you'd just done.

You flung the door open and it was empty.

What was this selfishness of both of you? Why was it so hard to pick a side?

Steve, the boy who was the physical manifestation of a warm day in winter, a warm patch of sunlight in a cold room. Yes, he provided you with warmth, more than anyone ever had. But then he would leave you cold, for days on end, with no warning or explanation.

You, the girl who bought colour, the girl with the shiniest eyes and the most pretty grin. Yes, you were the one who pushed to kiss him first, but that was the only time you did so. The girl who wouldn't shut up about a movie or food she likes but would never speak her mind.

Both of you could neither choose warmth nor the cold. Neither the sweet or the salt. Why was it so hard to pick a side?

....

It was soon going to be almost a week since steve had seen you. Sure, he had seen you but there had been no conversation.

You weren't necessarily angry at him, more like indifferent. You were ignoring him. And the span of wait for you to come around seemed to be longer than any callousness or rage he could suffer from you. Indifference was always worse than rage.

It was killing him– your indignation. During that one week away from you, he realised that it wasn't his love that'll kill him, nor his stupidity. Your resentment could kill him more than any death or monster ever could.

Ravi and Rohan had invited Steve for a chai. Kajal was also there. It felt a little weird without you there-- the link that connected them to him.

Steve and Ravi were… what he would consider, friends now. He reckoned the older boy had finally forgiven him.

"I don't see you and (y/n) hanging out", Rohan pointed out.

"Yeah.. uh", Steve scratched the back of his neck, "I guess we had a– an argument "

"An argument? With (y/n)?" Kajal wondered aloud.

"Are you sure we are talking about the same person?", Ravi chuckled.

"What?"

"She's a quiet person– you might've noticed. Not that much of a talker", your brother said.

"But recently she's… quieter– more than normal, at least." Kajal continued.

You were hiding your own thoughts from yourself, these days. You wondered. All this thinking, opening your heart like this; is it truly necessary to convey something by saying it out loud? If it's real and if it's meant to be then wouldn't they just know?

"Yeah, I've never seen her argue with anyone", Ravi added.

"Well we did", Steve shrugged with a shake of his head.

"You might've really fucked up then."

"I did",he said with his head hung low.

"What happened?"

"Y'know, I just said something stupid. Like I always do"

"Can I tell you something steve?" Ravi said. "(Y/n) asked me what if you had changed and I said that I'd have to see if to believe it." He stated with a reassuring hand on the younger boys shoulder. "I have seen it and I do believe it."

The corners of Steve's mouth curled up into a smile, "Thanks man. It just feels like she doesn't feel the same. She doesn't say much as you said" everyone nodded at that.

"You do know that you're her first, right?" Kajal spoke up.

"What?"

"She hasn't ever had something like this, y'know? Sure crushes, here and there but those go away in like a month. This is big for her"

"yeah, and we don't have the best parents who've ever taught us to communicate feelings", Rohan articulated.

"What do I do?" He turned to the three people with pleading eyes, "How do I fix this?"

....

Kajal was standing near the foot of your bed. She called out your name to which let out a groan to acknowledge her.

"Why aren't you ready yet?"

"I'm not coming, I told you."

"So you're just going to wallow in self pity on my bachelor's party just because of Steve?"

"I don't feel well, Kajal."

She rolled her eyes, and sighed before pulling the blanket from above your body. You whined in response and curled up into yourself. The older girl immediately pulled you up, "(Y/n) please come.. for me– I'm begging you. It's my last night as a bachelor and then I'll be under the shackles of marriage", she said theatrically.

You stared at her for a bit and then finally caved with a groan, "Okay, fine. But only because of you"

She let out a squeal before hugging you so tight that you didn't need a chiropractor to crack your spine anymore.

"Get ready?"

You nodded.

....

Your sister was dancing with her soon-to-be husband. You were nursing a glass of alcohol, of which you hadn't taken more than two sips because it reminded you of a certain boy with golden eyes. You didn't want to do it, wallow in your self pity as Kajal had put it, you'd didn't want to do it– especially today. Because it was your sister's special day, and she deserved it.

You were just thinking of finally joining your cousin when you heard your name called out. And you didn't need to turn your head to recognise who it was. Your name always sounded better when it came from his lips.

You turned around and there he was. Wearing a black kurta, sleeves rolled up, hair perfectly set, cheeks a little rosy. "Hi", he said softly.

"Hey", you couldn't help but smile a little.

"You look really pretty", he complimented before pausing for a second before continuing, "And I'm sorry for all the shit I said"

"It's okay"

"I really am. I'm stupid and say shit sometimes that I don't mean and I'm just so so sorry–"

"You're wasting your time, steve"

"...What?"

"You're wasting your time. On me. I thought about it and you were right. I won't be here forever."

"(Y/n)--"

"You're wasting your time, Steve. It won't work out"

"That's not true–"

"It is, Steve. I don't want to keep fighting– I… "I don't want to argue in my last week here, please", you said, fingers fiddling with the fabric of your lehenga. "I don't want to argue. I see enough of that with my parents", you averted your eyes from him– mumbling the last part.

Steve's eyes were fixed on you and if you looked up at him, you'd be met with the biggest puppy dog eyes. But you didn't look up, suddenly the hem of your dupatta was very interesting.

"So I…. Guess that's it for us." You said it more to maybe convince yourself. There was a finality to your words, one that Steve thought he wasn't allowed to deny– despite how much he wanted to.

"Okay", he whispered, "Can we…", he trailed off, trying to arrange his thoughts, "can we..still be friends?"

You smiled at that, the boy would never forget to make you warm. You finally looked at him, his big brown eyes with gold flecks swimming in them. And despite the circumstances and the topic of the conversation, warmth spread through your chest. Whenever you see him, it feels like home– he feels like home. Even though you were across the world from your real one. But despite all that, why did you feel scared?

"We can", you finally said.

....

This was it. This was the day.

Your cousin was finally getting married. And she looked so pretty with her beautiful lehenga, extravagant jewellery, perfect hair and a glittering wide grin that was plastered on her face.

You were supposed to do a little performance with a few of your other cousins– everyone had to do something. So, you had picked a dance, where they stood you in the corner because dancing really wasn't your forte.

But the only person Steve looked at was you. If he thought that your dress on the Sangeet was like that of a princess, this was even more grand and shiny. The dress was perfect, the hair was perfect, you were perfect.

But you two were just friends now. That's the most that you wanted.

As he watched you come off the stage, he felt a pang in his chest because the wedding was close to being done. Which meant you were close to leaving. And although you two were now just friends, it hurt.

He threw a thumbs up your way when you spared him a glance. His heart nearly melted when you mouthed a 'thank you' with a smile.

The rest of the ceremony started, Steve sat beside you but didn't say a thing through it.

When everything was said and done, and your sister was now a married woman, you hugged her. And she wept. You'd never seen her cry before, in all the years you'd known her, but the tears on the edge of falling down her cheeks were there. Before you knew it, your own eyes were stinging with unshed tears.

"Why are you crying?" Kajal asked.

"Why are you crying?" You echoed.

"I'm just very happy!" She wailed before hugging you again.

You stayed that way for a bit before the bride was pulled away from you by other relatives.

Steve watched the entire exchange. He then watched as you retreating out the hallway door. When he followed you, he was met with a sight of you standing on a porch by the lovers lake-- they had rented the place around the lake for the event.

The wooden floor creaked a little as his feet moved towards you.

"Hey, you okay?"

"I am. Just– I've known her all my life, I've grown up with her and now… I'm going to miss her, you know?" you sniffled.

"You're gonna be fine", he said, putting his hand over yours on the railing, squeezing it to give you comfort. "And you can always visit her?" Visit me, he wanted to add.

You nodded. A silence settled over both of you.

"(Y/n)?" You hummed before looking at him, "I know what you said about us but just hear me out– heart me out. I wanna make things right"

"I like you. Like really, really like you. I like you so much it scares me. And it's crazy 'cause you're so fucking adorable and pretty and beautiful and perfect and I–"

I love you.

He once again squeezed your hand but this time to get some comfort himself, "I want us to work out"

"...Me too."

"You do?"

You nodded, "I do."

"Then let's fucking do it", he said, taking both your hands in his.

"... I– I'm scared", how you said it, it broke Steve's heart.

"So am I", he stepped a little closer to you, hands still holding yours, "But you know what scares me more?"

"Letting you leave without giving it all a try."

"But how Steve?", You said with glassy eyes, "How? My parents live in the same house and they don't even communicate. How will we do that when we're going to be across the world?"

"We are not your parents, (y/n). We're not mine either", he stepped even closer, raising his right hand to brush out the hair out of your eyes and the to hold your cheek, "We are us and we're nothing like them."

"Tell me that you want this too and I'll prove it to you that we're going to work out"

"I do."

That's all it took for Steve to connect his lips to yours. You gasped in the kiss, as the boy's hand move to its place on your waist and the other on your cheek. Your skin buzzed and your heart swelled. Your hand moved up his chest and grasped the fabric of his kurta in your fist while the other hand held his cheek.

Your lips moved in tandem as Steve pulled you even close rand kissed you even deeper. A giggle erupted from your throat when he dipped you a little. You could feel him smiling into the kiss. His nose rubbed over your cheek and his over yours, warm breath spreading across the skin.

You both pulled away with heaving chests at the sound of the door opening. When you turned towards the source of the sound, you were met with your cousin sister's face. "Okay, you both are stealing my thunder– it's supposed to be my wedding", Kajal said.

....

"Everything packed up?" Steve asked put the the final bag into the car.

You nodded with a melancholy expression over your features, "I'll miss you so much."

"Me too." He tucked a strand behind your ear, and then held your face. You reached up your hand to put your palm over his, leaning into his warm touch. "but it's okay. We'll talk. Write"

You nodded once again before leaning in, and he did the same-- connecting your lips in a soft and long goodbye kiss. You wanted to live in it forever. At the very least memorize the feeling of his lips on yours. Of his thumb drawing small circles over your cheeks. Of his warmth.

You pulled away after a few seconds, looking into his big brown eyes that your were going to miss so much. Oh, how you wished to steal him and take him with you. "Oh, I almost forgot..", you started while turning to take something out of your bag and hand it over to Steve.

"What's this?" He looked with his eyebrows pulled together at the piece of paper.

"Wedding invitation…. Remember my brother and his girlfriend? Well, he managed to tell our parents a couple weeks ago and now here it is." You chuckled.

"It's not the official invitation, that'll take some time but you better come man", your brother added, appearing out of nowhere and then once again leaving.

"You better", you said it as a non threatening threat.

"I will", he said squeezing your hand.

"We're ready to leave", your brother called out again.

"Yeah I'm coming", you shouted back before turning to the boy infront of you and softly saying, "I really wish I could stay."

"It's okay" He wished he could hide you, all for himself. But he couldn't, so he let go of your hand. You turned to leave and get into the car but then run back and tackled his torso, wrapping your arms around his frame tightly, "I love you", you mumbled into his sweater. Your voice, so quiet and so small.

"I love you too", he said while rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head.

"All right", your brother's voice rang behind you and Steve loosened his grip on you, "that's enough. I'm suddenly very compelled to make you two break up", he joked.

A/n: Here it is people! I love this series so much and seeing ur responses on the previous part made my desi heart soar :))

That ending was kinda bleh :((

for the love of God tell me how you felt about this story c'mon give me validation and constructive criticism pls I'm begging

Taglist:

@555stargirl555 @luvsersi @angelulls @bitch-biblioklept @1derfulzxyn @avianawrites @lauenderhaze @cicaspair418 @pl4ybhaicarti

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader angst #steve harrington x reader fluff #stranger things 4 #desi!reader #steve harrington x desi!reader #lfthia #stranger things x reader

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