#this joke won’t leave my head so here lmao

[l3viat8an]

MC:*Knocking on Asmo's bedroom door* Are you decent?

Asmo: Not morally no, but I'm wearing pants if that's what you're asking.

#this joke won’t leave my head so here lmao #source: tumblr #obey me! #obey me #om! #obmswd #obey me shitpost #obey me shenanigans #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me asmo x mc #obey me mc #obey me crack #obey me crack shit #obmswd asmo #obmswd mc #obmswd shitpost #obmswd crack #obey me incorrect #obey me incorrect quotes #obey me! asmodeus #obey me! mc #om! asmo #om! asmodeus #om! mc #om! incorrect quotes #om! shitpost #obey me? shall we date! #ro’s dumb stuff tag

[portgasdwrld]

★ Hickeys

ೃ⁀➷do they suck (lol) at hickeys, giver or receiver?, how? all answered down below by your beloved Tomie✨

ೃ⁀➷Psss this is a head-canon, take it lightly~

ೃ⁀➷ Suggestive, implied f!reader, NSFW language

ೃ⁀➷ monster trio + Law+ Ace

: ̗̀➛ Luffy

He’s the type to receive them more than to give

When he realizes he has hickeys, he’s just gonna wonder how it’s even possible and if smth hit his neck during a fight💀

Probably gonna bug Chopper about it, until he brushes him off mentioning it’s nothing

Then when you’re making out and you linger on his neck, it clicks into his mind. He yells a « ooohh, It was you! » after realizing that, it surprises you and you almost bit his skin-

He’s down to try it when you explain that you want them on you too

« You want me to suck your skin a little until it bruises? A bit like when you bruise after a fight? »

« Ugh… not the same but you got the spirit? »

He’s dense, but he tried and he didn’t do as bad as you thought

: ̗̀➛ Law

LMAO?? Wouldn’t he be the type to lowkey hit you with a scientific facts that hickeys can kill you if done wrong🤓😭

Ik he would. Im so sorry😮‍💨

On another note, tbh I feel like he’s just sooo into it, when his mind is fogged by lust. He will be making out with you and damn, he’s now leaving wet kisses all over your neck. That itself, just awaken some type of possessive strike and you’re left with hickeys a bit everywhere.

Will quietly eye them when y’all are cuddling after sex. He won’t comment on it beside if you point them out.

“They look great.”

It would be the most reaction you will get out of him. He’s so hot though- intrusive thoughts but they are real 😔

He doesn’t mind at all if you leave some on him fr. Like if it’s done within the right vibe and y’all are just kicking it and you’re riding him or y’all in lotus position, he might even groan and moan a little louder and curse under his breath.

: ̗̀➛ Sanji

Oh his mouth is ALLL OVERR your body. He’s kissing, praising, leaving hickeys all over your body. On you chest, between your thighs, on you collarbone.

He’s almost in a trance while he loves your body and mark it. He’s gotta to enjoy his pretty lover and you bet he’s gonna make it known that you are his and he’s the lucky man who has you!!

He’s so sweet about it, with sweet compliments, but it’s a bit messy too. Wet patches, mumbles from his muffled lips.

He’s SOOOOO down if you wanna do it on him. He gets very excited and can’t stop smiling and touching your body.

“Yes of course I’m down! Wanna try it rn? We got time yk..”

Best boy 🤧

ೃ⁀➷ Zoro

His neck always has some hickeys from you. He thought he hated it, but he quickly got over it and finds it hot now.

He doesn’t care too much if someone stare at them, but he will throw a curse out with a deadpan expression, if someone made a snarky comment.

He also has this possessive strike, so you bet you’re gonna have some type of bruises-hickeys on your body after y’all are done. Because he doesn’t go easy on you, he will be thrusting deep into you, while silencing you with his fingers deep in your mouth. Along with that, his mouth is nibbling on you neck and all your sensitive spots.

It’s an overstimulating mess.

He smirks satisfied when he sees you marked up, moaning his name and completely lost into his touch.

ೃ⁀➷ Ace

Oh, this man here has the biggest possessive strike out of all the men here.

I touched on the subject a little on my NSFW head canon, but he definitely love giving them. He whines when you do, because he’s apparently allergic to shirts and get slightly annoyed when each of his friends on the ship makes some jokes.

He loves that everyone knows you’re his. Because he gets to have one person for him, that actually feels love toward him and someone he can trust??! That’s the life prize!

Every time he fucks you, he makes sure that hickeys are created everywhere on your body.

He will shower you with attention and cocky comments as he sucks on to your skin.

It’s his specialty😮‍💨

#one piece #one piece headcanons #tomiewrites🌷 #one piece x reader #portgas d ace #one piece zoro #zoro headcanons #portgas ace x you #ace one piece #portgas ace smut #ace smut #luffy smut #luffy x reader #sanji headcanons #sanji smut #sanji fluff #traflagar law smut #law smut #law headcanons #law x reader #sanji x reader #ace sabo luffy #luffy fluff #zoro smut #zoro fluff #zoro imagines #portgas d ace smut #one piece smut

[stevie-petey]

episode six: the spy

Steve looks like a kicked puppy as you storm ahead of him and Dustin, putting enough distance between you guys so that you can’t hear their conversion that follows.  “Shit…” “You’re awful with women.” Dustin says, now continuing to walk. He doesn’t bother to follow after you, knowing that you need your space to cool down. “I wouldn’t follow her, by the way. Let her cool off.” Steve sighs, now walking as well, “Yeah, I know.” 

Summary: dustin and steve haggle a butcher, you throw some meat at steve and then have a weird conversation about love, you stop dustin from becoming an incel, and then you wrestle some demodogs like any real woman would. side note: steve is hot protecting the kids.

Rating: general, violence and swearing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, violence and swearing, blood mention and ptsd mention, weapons, fire, probably more

Words: 17.1k (i fear how much longer these next few chapters become)

Before you swing in: its here !!! god, this chapter was ROUGH. the conversations between bug and steve took many rewrites and editing. i wanted to get it just right, and finally i think im satisfied with where they landed. bug and steve aside, i absolutely loved writing this chapter with the kids. i sincerely hope you guys enjoy, this chapter took blood, sweat, n tears lmao

-

You’re the first to break the silence as you all stare at the hole Dart created in the wall in shock.

An obnoxiously loud yawn escapes your lips, and Dustin and Steve shoot you simultaneous weird glances. You feel your face heat up in embarrassment. “Sorry… It’s been a long day.”

Steve huffs. “Yeah, no kidding.”

Dustin clears his throat before standing up. He wipes off some dirt that got on his jeans and then offers you his hand so that he can pull you up as well. You accept it and stand, your bones a deep, weary type of heavy that only comes from pure exhaustion. 

“Okay,” Dustin begins, and you can already see a plan forming in his mind. “Steve, you’ll spend the night here so that way we can all get up bright and early to start our search for Dart.” 

Steve attempts to argue, but Dustin puts his hand up to shush him and continues with his speech. The older boy throws his hands up in the air and gives you a look of disbelief over your brother’s antics. You stifle a laugh, which he only rolls his eyes at. Steve, whether he likes it or not, will have to get used to Dustin’s… Dustin-ness.

“If he escaped through the tunnel, then we have to assume that there’s an opening somewhere above ground.” Dustin finishes. 

You nod your head slowly, still unconvinced. “Okay, but how do we find him? Better yet, what happens when we do? It took Nancy with a shotgun, my knives, Steve’s batting skills, a ton of fire, and almost dying a bunch of times to take down the Demogorgon.” 

Dustin lets out a tired sigh. “I’ll figure it all out, alright? For now, let’s just get some sleep. Maybe it’ll come to me in a dream or something.” 

“A dream? Seriously?” Steve looks at the two of you as if you guys will start laughing and tell him it’s all a giant joke. Unfortunately, it isn’t. 

Steve spent all last year and most of the summer getting to know you. He’s used to your quips and soft spoken teasing, but Dustin? He’s uncharted territory and you’re secretly relishing in seeing Steve fumble around him. You’ve never had anyone else interact with your brother before, only Jonathan, so this change is odd, but welcomed. 

Dustin pays no attention to you and Steve as he begins heading up the steps, back to your home. Once he disappears, you nudge your shoulder against Steve’s. “You know you don’t actually have to spend the night, right?”

“Ya know, I can’t quite tell if the kid will let me leave or not.”

You laugh. “He’s harmless… Mostly. I promise I won’t let him bite, but I also understand if you want to leave.”

Steve looks away, sensing the undertones of what you’re saying. You’re giving him another out, one last chance to leave and go back to pretending like everything's okay. You wouldn’t blame him, and you get a sense of deja-vu from that night at Jonathan’s. When you tried coaxing Steve to leave, to spare himself from everything he inevitably ended up suffering from. 

After a minute or so, Steve shakes his head. “I’ll stay. You need my help.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say need–”

“Shut up and let me help you, Y/N.”

You sigh. There’s no arguing with him, he’s made up his mind and your truce that you shook on ten minutes ago burns your hand. He’s staying. 

“A ‘please’ would’ve sufficed, but fine.” You link your arm around Steve’s and make your way up the cellar steps. “C’mon, Dustin is probably waiting for us with some new insane plan for where you’ll sleep.”

– 

You know that your mom is safe, off at the other side of town, searching for your dead cat, but it’s still lonely walking into your empty home. Dustin is standing in the living room waiting, but you can see that it makes him uneasy as well. 

Steve follows behind you and takes a look around. When he spots the lumpy, old, sagging couch in front of the window, he frowns. It’s barely bigger than he is, his feet would definitely hang over the edge. “This my bed for tonight?”

“It’ll have to be, unless you want to come snuggle with me in my bed.” Dustin says. 

“I wouldn’t, he kicks in his sleep,” you tell Steve, attempting to make light of the situation. 

“That doesn’t surprise me,” he snorts. Then, as if he’s done this a million times before, Steve flings himself onto your couch and his feet do indeed hang over the edge. “Oh, yeah. This will definitely be cozy.”

You wince. “I’m sorry, you’re still free to go home. I completely understand and–”

“Unless…” Dustin begins to brighten up and he wiggles his eyebrows at you. Pure horror washes over you; you know that look on his face. He’s scheming. 

“Dustin, whatever is about to come out of your mouth–”

“Y/N has this giant bean bag in her room. Practically takes up the whole space, and, luckily for you, my new friend, it’s Steve-sized.”

Steve whips his head to face you, a curious look on his face. “You don’t say, Little Henderson?”

Both boys look at you, a matching glint of evil in their eyes, and you realize you’re trapped. When did they manage to sync up to make you miserable?

You weigh your options against your morals. On one hand, it’s your room and you and Steve are still warming back up to each other. However, on the other hand, Jonathan has spent countless nights on that bean bag himself. 

Dustin’s right. Steve would fit perfectly. 

Damn him. 

You shuffle your feet, averting Steve’s eyes. “I mean, I guess you’d fit.” 

“You guess? Steve, she’s had Jonathan sleep on that thing like a bajillion times.” Dustin waves his arms out, gleeful that he’s won. “In fact, I think our mom specifically bought it just for him.”

He now steps closer to Steve and eyes him up and down. “I’d bet money that you two are about the same size, so as I stated earlier: it’s Steve-sized.”

“I’m actually taller than him, so…” Steve mumbles to no one in particular, but quickly clears his throat and changes the subject. “And I’d finally be able to see Y/N Henderson’s room? Count me in.”

You blush furiously. He’s getting a kick out of all of this and he’s such a little shit, honestly. You’re not sure why the thought of having Steve Harrington in your room, eager to be in your room, makes your stomach flutter and your cheeks burn painfully. 

Steve sees your blush and he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “C’mon, Y/N. It’ll be like a sleepover.”

“You’re far too pleased about all of this.”

“We can pretend to be back at Bookstrordinary. I’ll even stack some books that you definitely have in your room.”

Dustin stands between you and Steve, his face alight with joy and curiosity. “Can I please know when you two became best friends?”

“No, you hid Dart from me.”

“I’m not gonna live that down, am I?”

“Nope.”

Steve clears his throat, clearly amused by your banter with Dustin but still unsure about everything going on. “So… What do ya say, Y/N?”

You bite your lip and look at him. He’s pathetically too large for the couch, it wouldn’t be fair to just force him to sleep there because of the weird way he makes you feel as if you’re floating yet falling all at the same time. 

Exhaling, you give in. “Fine, but do not touch any of my books in the room.”

“Yes!” Steve high fives Dustin and you roll your eyes at them both. 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. It’s late, can we please just go to bed now?”

Dustin sends you a wink, which thankfully Steve doesn’t see. “Sure, sis. Have a good night.”

And with that, probably because he senses you’re about to throw a shoe at him, Dustin flees the living room and runs to his room. As soon as he’s gone, Steve bats his eyelashes at you and playfully teases, “Take me to bed, Y/N.”

You snort, despite how exhausted you are. “Never say those words to me again.”

He laughs and stands up, following behind you as you guide him towards your own room. A part of you feels like you should give him a house tour, but logistically it’d be useless. You can’t imagine that Steve would be over at your house again once the Dart situation is handled. 

You have to remind yourself that there are still roses for Nancy, currently wilting, in the backseat of Steve’s car. 

They’ll work things out eventually, or maybe they won’t, but Nancy Wheeler still has Steve Harrington’s heart. He is her’s entirely. 

Lost in thought, you almost miss the turn to your room and have to grab the back of Steve’s jacket and yank him towards your bedroom door. 

“Hey–” 

“Sorry, my room is here.” 

“You Hendersons are just a delightful bunch, ya know that?” 

“Be thankful you don’t have to meet our mother, honestly.” You fling your bedroom door open and gently push Steve inside. 

As soon as he’s in your room, you watch as he takes it all in. His eyes scan every corner of the room, and you hold your breath as you wait for them to land on the Spider-Man poster he gave you for Christmas last year. 

When Steve sees it, he smiles shyly at you. “I see you kept the gift.”

“Duh,” you walk over to your bed and sit down. “Still one of the best gifts I’ve ever been given.”

“One of?” He asks, tone light but curious. 

Unconsciously, your fingers go to your bee necklace from Jonathan. You play with the pendant and smile softly. “Sorry, Jonathan kinda beat you to it.”

“I figured,” he shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, uncomfortable. “I noticed the necklace the day I gave you the poster. Didn’t want to, uh, assume. I guess. But the necklace was from him?”

“It was,” you clear your throat, talking about Jonathan with Steve has always been such a foreign feeling for you. 

Steve seems to be thinking the same thing and starts to wander around your room instead. You silently thank whatever god is up there for giving you the motivation to clean your room earlier that week. Normally you’re a neat person, but ever since Will started showing signs of post-traumatic stress, you’ve spent more time obsessively researching rather than tidying up.

Therefore, there’s still books strewn across your desk alongside some comics. Steve sees a Spidey one and holds it up with a laugh. “He’s everywhere.”

“He is.” You say proudly, now getting up to go into your closet to pull out the blankets and pillows usually reserved for Jonathan.

Steve wanders around some more as you dig through your closet. He lingers in front of your dresser, which holds photos of you, Dustin, and Jonathan. 

“Here,” you hand the bedding to Steve and motion to where the bean bag is. 

He looks up from a photo of you and Jonathan from last year. It’s your favorite of the two of you, he stands behind you in the picture with his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin on your shoulder. You’re both smiling widely at the camera, the moment captured by Will because he wanted to try out the camera Jonathan had gotten that summer. 

“You guys are really close, huh?” Steve asks.

You nod, although confused by his question. He spent half the summer with you and Jonathan at your job. You had conversations about your friendship together, but you suppose it’s different seeing the excess of love you have for the boy within your room. Jonathan is everywhere, if you look hard enough, you’ll find him. 

Steve pauses for a second, as if he wants to say something else, but shakes his head and turns towards the bean bag. He arranges the pillows so that they’re flush against the wall facing your bed, which you think is an odd choice, but say nothing. Once he’s arranged the pillows and blankets, Steve turns to you and clears his throat. 

“I hate to ask this, I really do, but I also don’t want to sleep in these jeans,” he waves his hands over his pants, which have always been a bit together than you thought was necessary. “Any chance I could wear something of Jonathan’s?”

You think for a moment and dig through your dresser. “I’m not sure, but if I can’t find anything of his then I think my old camp t-shirt can fit. As for pants, won’t your boxers work fine?”

Steve’s face turns red and he clears his throat once more, speaking in a slightly squeaky voice, “Y–yeah, I guess so.”

He’s stumbling over his words, which makes you pause. There’s no possible way that he’s nervous right now. He’s usually so confident and comfortable around you. Hell, last summer he offered to be your first kiss (by kissing his fingers and pressing them against your lips, but still). 

“Are you shy right now, Steve?”

“What? No!” He scrambles to the other side of the room, putting as much distance between the two of you as he can. 

You raise your eyebrows at him, but your cheeks are flushed as well. “Okay then, whatever you say.” 

It’s painfully quiet after that as you continue looking for something for Steve to wear. You swear that Jonathan has left behind some of his things, and right before you lose hope, you spot a pair of gray sweats and an old The Clash t-shirt of his. 

“Here,” you toss the clothes to Steve without even checking if he’s looking. You hear a crash and know that he, in fact, had not been looking. 

“Gee, thanks.” He says sarcastically, but you giggle. 

“No problem,” you begin to gather your own pajamas before pointing towards your door. “There’s a bathroom to the left, down the hall. You can change there.” 

“Then our sleepover can commence?”

You wave him off, but you smile anyway at his question. You missed his boyish charms. “Sure, buddy. Go change.”

Steve salutes you and then leaves the room, softly closing the door behind him. You change while he’s gone and tie your hair up. After a few minutes, you assume Steve has had enough time to change and make your way over to the bathroom so you can brush your teeth. You’re so excited to go to bed. 

However, the door is closed when you approach, meaning Steve is still changing. You knock on the door, “Are you almost done in there?”

“I’m having… problems.” 

Your hand hovers over the door, mid knock. “Problems?”

There’s only silence for a moment, almost as if Steve is contemplating elaborating. Finally, after several seconds, he says “I’m definitely taller than Byers.” 

You roll your eyes and begin knocking again, just to annoy Steve, until he finally swings the door open. Before you can even stop it, a loud laugh escapes you. The sweats are at least five inches too short on him, while Jonathan’s shirt is a size too small. He looks absolutely ridiculous. 

“It’s not funny!” Steve whines, his face once again red. “I thought you gave me Jonathan’s clothes, Y/N!” 

More laughter escapes you, making your ribs begin to hurt. Every time you try to speak, you laugh even harder, and it’s impossible for you to get any words out. Steve watches, not amused in the slightest, and crosses his arms as if to appear more dignified. 

“I’m sorry,” you manage to gasp out, more laughs threatening to spill from you. “I guess they’re clothes from when he was fourteen.”

“I’m reconsidering our truce from earlier.” 

This gets you to stop laughing, and you gasp and smack Steve’s chest. “You wouldn’t dare!”

He sighs, hanging his head low. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“Exactly,” his admission makes you giddy. “Now, either make yourself cozy in the bean bag or watch as I brush my teeth. Your choice.”

Steve shrugs and steps to the side so that there’s room for you to enter the bathroom. It’s a tight fit, but he ends up sitting on the edge of the tub and just watches as you begin the process of brushing your teeth. “I didn’t actually think you’d stay, ya know.”

“I know, but I’m bored and you’re here.”

You spit into the sink. “Fair, I guess.”

“Plus,” he picks at his nails, trying to look disinterested while wearing Jonathan’s too small clothes. “We still need to have that talk.”

You pause, toothbrush hanging from your lips as you stare at Steve, wide eyed, in the mirror. Honestly, you were hoping he would’ve forgotten about that. It’s not that you don’t want to know whatever he has to tell you, but you’re tired and still reeling over the fact that he’s spending the entire night in your room. 

“Oh, right.” Turning the faucet off, you finish brushing your teeth and awkwardly wipe your face. Steve watches quietly, and once you’re done, you motion for him to follow you back towards your room. 

As soon as you’re back in your room, Steve immediately curls himself upon the bean bag and brings the blanket all the way up to his chin. Dustin, as always, is right: the bean bag truly is Steve-sized. “Cozy.”

You laugh at him as you crawl into your own bed. “Yeah, I’d hope so. Jonathan has slept in it for years now.”

“Well, uh. Speaking of Jonathan…” Steve sits up a bit so that he can properly look at you. “I wanted to talk. Ya know… About you and him. Nancy, too.”

He pauses, furrows his brows, and then adds. “Actually, I want to talk about what really happened this summer. Everything. I want to know everything.”

“Everything is a lot,” you dodge, turning away from the boy. 

Steve sighs. “Y/N… I missed you.”

Missed.

“I want to be friends again, be how we were before, but… I don’t know. There was a lot unsaid between us. Even from the start. I mean, I understand. I do.” His eyes never leave yours, despite how much you try not to look back at him. “You’re, well–If we’re going to be friends again, I want to start from the beginning.”

“The beginning?”

Now Steve is the one who looks away. “I don’t know, it’s stupid, I guess–”

“It’s not stupid, Steve.” You reassure him. He’s trying, he’s inviting you in after everything you did to him, and it’s all you could’ve asked for. 

But you’re fucking terrified. 

You and Steve became close before, sure, but it was something more surface level. An act between the two of you. While Steve was able to read you over time, learning and asking and paying attention to you, there was still so much you never let him in on. What you haven’t let anyone in on, besides Jonathan. 

If you start from the beginning with Steve, someone you know has come to view you as this selfless and kind person, you’re scared that it’ll change the way he sees you. 

But Steve is looking at you from the bean bag, looking ridiculously cozy with the blanket wrapped around him and his usually carefully curated hair has fallen in his eyes; his gaze is open and trusting. There isn’t a pressure behind it, he would understand if you backed down, but you promised him you’d try. 

To try is to be human.

And you really, really missed Steve. 

“I moved here when I was twelve. My family and I had moved all the way from Virginia after the divorce. I remember being really mean, back then. An angry kid with all this hurt within her that she perpetually displaced upon everyone else.” 

“Angry?” Steve asks, his voice soft. 

You shift uncomfortably in bed, but you remind yourself that you agreed to this. If you’re going to begin again with Steve, then he deserves to know the true person he’s befriending. “Angry. I didn’t take the divorce well. At all. I acted out a lot, closed myself off, and was just a fucking awful person.”

Shifting again, you take a deep breath. “My anger got to the point where Dustin, who was nine, had to practically plead with me to be nicer to him. He was a kid.”

“So were you,” Steve gently chimes in, but you roll your eyes at him. 

“Being a kid didn’t give me an excuse to abandon my loved ones like I did. Like my father did. It wasn’t until Dustin called me out on my bullshit that I realized the irony of the situation. There I was, blaming everyone else for my own problems and running away, because I was so hurt by my father doing the same to me.”

Steve clenches his jaw, and you know he wants to say more, but you watch as he exhales deeply and decides against it. “Okay, so you were mean and then you became kind again after something traumatic… So what?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I mean,” the boy sighs. “I was a dick for like, ten consecutive years. It took losing a fight to Jonathan, embarrassing myself in front of Nancy at least five times, losing my bullshit ‘friends’ Tommy and Carol, and some blonde guy with a fucking mullet before I was even able to become a decent person.” 

You frown. “What’s your point?” 

“My point is that you came back.” Steve shrugs. “The second someone you loved asked you to, you came back to being the selfless angel that you are. Which, by the way, is an impressive feat in itself.” 

He says this as if it’s obvious and that the months you spent hurting everyone around you can be redeemed. As if you haven’t spent every waking hour tirelessly devoting every piece of yourself to those around you to make up for them. To repent for your anger. 

Steve takes your silence as more defiance, and he runs a tired hand through his hair. He’s merely a few feet from you, at the foot of your bed on the bean bag, and yet it feels as if he’s inches yet yards away. “I know I can’t change your mind, but… I think that’s what matters the most in the end, ya know? You became kind.” 

“So did you,” you finally say, not quite ready to accept what he’s saying. 

Now it’s Steve who looks away. “Still working on the whole ‘kind’ thing.”

“Isn’t that what matters in the end?” You tease, feeling yourself warm with pride when you get him to laugh. 

“Touche.” 

Silence falls over the two of you, letting the tension lazily slip away for now. Your body hums with energy; the only other person you’ve told about your father to is Jonathan. You both have long since bonded over shitty father figures. However, even when you had whispered these truths to Jonathan back when you were thirteen, you don’t remember feeling quite so saw and vulnerable as you do right now with Steve. 

“I meant it, you know,” you catch Steve’s eye. “Back when you first drove me home last year. You’re alright. Not too shabby, honestly.”

This time a full body laugh cascades through the boy, He clutches at his stomach as he doubles over, breathless with joy. “Thanks, Y/N.” 

Steve is still laughing and this is the happiest you think you’ve seen him in months. The realization makes all the warmth you’ve felt earlier, vanish. You remember the hurt on his face earlier this week on Halloween, the tears in his eyes when he confessed that Nancy didn’t love him. 

You know how plagued Steve is about never being good enough, and for the first time since you’ve truly gotten to know him: you understand him in that very moment. 

Your eye catches on Steve’s adam’s apple as he swallows. It’s a tragedy, really, how attractive he is. You suppose it’s what caused his downfall, in the end. A pretty boy, rich and popular yet easily able to be taken down; it must be a lonely life with all that vulnerability.

“Can I tell you a secret?” You whisper, voice cutting through the darkness of your room as Steve seems to remember where he is, why and how the conversation started in the first place. 

“Always,”

“I’m scared of the compulsive need I feel to take care of everyone. It’s like… I don’t know, this debt that I feel I owe for existing, for the fear I feel because of my father leaving. I overcompensate for this fear now, terrified I’ll become mean again.”

Steve stares at your ceiling. “The whole ‘debt’ thing, I understand. Believe me. Rather than being a perfect angel, however, I just try my fucking hardest not to disappoint everyone around me and make them leave.”

Nancy, as she always seems to do, lingers between you and Steve now; you both can feel her presence without him having to say her name. He told you what she did to him, you tried to reassure him that it hadn’t been his fault, but Steve isn’t an idiot. 

Nancy never loved him. He knows this, now. 

You don’t say anything, you don’t think he’d want you to. Giving him some time, you allow Steve a few minutes to collect his thoughts, sensing he has more to say. Then, softly, he whispers back to you, “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Always,” you echo. 

“I just want to be loved.” 

With just one confession, a string of six words in succession, Steve Harrington crushes you. 

The words come crashing upon your chest and you wish you could tell him how easily you see yourself falling for him. How, even if you can’t admit it just yet, you’re already falling for him. You think you have been for some time now. 

Somewhere, in between him driving you home last year and the way the summer sun kissed his face months later, you began to fall in love with him. 

While you’re thinking this, Steve is laying in the bean bag, absolutely terrified of the words that have come out of his mouth. He’s always had the fear, deep down, that he was unlovable, but to admit the fear out loud… He’s never felt so weak before.

You’re silent and Steve thinks he’s finally done it. His pathetic need to be liked and loved by everyone around him has finally scared you away. How couldn’t it scare you away? You so naturally are loved by everyone while Steve compulsively demands it because he’s still that scared ten year old boy with a father who never showed him love. 

Then, because you’re an angel, you give Steve the response he hadn’t even known he needed to hear. “It’s natural to want to be loved. We all do. It’s human.”

He exhales at your words, still staring at the ceiling as if to somehow lessen the impact of what you’re telling him. There’s something there, hanging in the air after your words have disappeared, that Steve can’t quite understand. 

It almost sounded like you were trying to reassure yourself, as well.

“What’s the deal with you and Jonathan?” Though Steve’s voice is steady, you can tell that he’s trying not to sound too interested. 

The question is a simple one, but it’s the hardest question you’ve ever had to answer. Everyone asks you, sooner or later, if you and Jonathan are together. You never blame them for asking, because ultimately the two of you are  closer than the average friends, regardless of gender. 

It doesn’t make the question any less painful to answer, though. It doesn’t make hearing Jonathan’s laugh cut any less deeper.

As for Steve, he’s asked this question before, albeit with teasing and disbelief whenever you’ve told him there’s nothing there. Despite the numerous times you’ve corrected him, he’s never quite believed you.

This time, it feels different. There’s a weight behind Steve’s question, and your silence is all the answer that he needs. “You love him.”

The words aren’t a question, and they harbor no malice. He says them as if they are a fact; you suppose that it is. You don’t say anything, but you do nod your head at him. “I do… I think I’ve always loved him, honestly.”

You’ve never, ever said those words out loud. Not to anyone.

And now, you’re confessing them to Steve, who doesn’t have to ask you why your voice now holds melancholy within it. He knows, he’s always somehow known. Jonathan doesn’t love you, a fact in which Steve has never been able to wrap his head around. He’s watched the two of you for years, how easily you love one another, and yet somehow the love never blossomed into something more. 

Everything stills between you and Steve, allowing both your confessions to surround the two of you. “I’m sorry.”

Steve’s apology only causes you to shrug. “He’s still mine, at least for now. Is that so bad?”

“I mean, I guess not, but… Doesn’t it get exhausting?”

“God,” you squeeze your eyes shut, finally able to voice all you’ve been feeling to someone who can understand. “It feels like this crushing weight upon me every time I see him smile, like it’s a burden, carrying all this love within me without being able to express it freely. I just… I never thought that love could be so exhausting. ”

As the words start to come out, you find that you’re unable to stop. “I grew up with Jonathan, I learned the way he breathes and the way his hands feel pressed against my skin, but so much has changed and…” Your breath hitches. “He’s not someone I reach out to first anymore. It almost feels like I can’t. I love him, I do, but I also miss how it used to be before I realized everything.”

The pressure of tears builds behind your eyes and forces you to stop talking. If you say anything else, you’re afraid you’ll start crying. While Steve has been so lovely tonight, it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to console you so pathetically. 

Steve seems to hear the tears lacing your voice and speaks for you, having finally pieced together everything he’s been unable to articulate since November of last year. “With Nance, it feels like I’m always somehow two steps behind her and her feelings. Constantly playing catch up while the rules keep changing on me… I get the whole ‘love is exhausting’ thing.”

Though you know Steve means well, his words fucking terrify you. If he feels the same way towards Nancy, a girl who never ended up loving him despite how much he poured his heart out for her, what does that mean for you and Jonathan?

For the first time, you question if the exhaustion you feel surrounding your love for the boy is really something else. Something different, disguised as exhaustion. 

You wonder, deep down, if you’ve started to fall out of love with Jonathan.

Who are you if you have?

The boy has become so intertwined within your life, the threads and strings and lines have tied you to him indefinitely. He’s the reason behind your everything. If you no longer love Jonathan, then who are you, really?

The realization washes over you like cold rain in the middle of winter. It spills over you and pricks at your skin and you suddenly want the conversation to end. While you’re so relieved to be talking to Steve again, the conversation has left you with more realizations than resolutions. 

“It’s late,” you fake a yawn, desperate to cut the conversation short. “We should go to bed. Knowing Dustin, he’ll have us up at the crack of dawn to start looking for Dart.”

Steve sees right through you, he knows he’s somehow crossed a line and that you’re once again retreating. You’re closing yourself off from him again, but he’ll take whatever he can get from you. You’ve told him more than he ever thought you would, so for now he’ll play along. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He says, watching as you reach for your lamp and turn the light off. Then, as soon as you’ve rolled over and closed your eyes, you faintly hear his final words. “Don’t we make a pathetic pair?” 

You remember, before drifting off to sleep, feeling relief wash over you that Steve once again considers the two of you a pair.

– 

You wake up the next morning to the faint sounds of Dustin getting ready. His shower can be heard from your room, and through the years it's become your morning alarm. Yawning, you roll over and rub your eyes and take a few minutes to let your brain wake up. 

Bits of yesterday’s events come back to you. 

Dustin confessing about Dart. 

Locking the Demodog in your cellar. 

Radioing everyone in the party for help and getting no response. 

Going to the Wheelers for Mike and coming back with Steve. 

Dart going missing. 

And, most importantly, your bizarre conversation with Steve last night. 

The boy in question lets out a loud snore from the bean bag, blankets haphazardly twisted around his legs, and you stifle a laugh. Even in his sleep, Steve Harrington somehow catches all the attention in the room.  

You throw your blanket off and get out of bed, tiptoeing so as to not wake up the sleeping beauty, and head outside to your kitchen. If yesterday was any indication of how long today will be, then you need all the coffee in the world to get through it. 

The coffee has just finished brewing when you hear Steve stumble into the kitchen. His eyes are bleary and his hair is the worst it’s ever looked. “I guess even Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington can’t escape bed head, huh?”

Steve acknowledges your quip only by grunting, still stumbling around through your home. So he isn’t a morning person, you think with a smile while bringing your coffee mug to your lips and taking a careful sip. 

Eventually Steve makes it to your kitchen table and plops down, letting out a loud yawn and smacking his lips. He looks pathetically endearing, really, especially given his outfit that looks even worse after sleeping in it. The shirt has ridden further up, exposing a bit of his stomach (which you divert your gaze from, feeling yourself blush), and one of his too-short pant legs has ridden up to his knee. 

“You really are a natural beauty in the morning, Steve.” 

“Ha,” he says boredly, looking around the kitchen. “Do you guys have any food? I’m starving.” 

You toss him an apple from the fruit basket on the counter, and Steve only just manages to catch it in time to avoid it hitting his face.

“Christ!” He exclaims, glaring at you when you chuckle at his reaction. Maybe it was a little mean, but you see the small smile he tries to hide. 

“Is this all I get? An apple thrown at my face?”

You walk over to the table and set your mug down. “Were you expecting a home cooked meal?” 

“You’ll have to earn a Y/N Henderson breakfast,” Dustin says as he enters the kitchen and joins the two of you. His hair is still wet from his shower and he drips onto the counter, which makes you cringe. He’s such a boy, sometimes. 

He makes his way over to the fridge and rustles around, looking for something to eat. Truthfully, the reason you threw the apple at Steve is because there’s no food in your house at the moment. Your mom normally goes to the grocery store on Saturdays, and in her frantic rush to find Mews she hadn't left any money for you to go to the store. 

“There’s no food,” you inform your brother. 

He sighs dejectedly, grabbing a banana and then plopping himself next to Steve at the table. “All right, are you two awake enough to discuss the plan?” 

You nod immediately at Dustin’s question while Steve slumps further into his seat, groaning. You run a hand through his hair to try and settle down his theatrics. Dustin sees this and raises an eyebrow at you, but you shake your head and motion for him to keep quiet. 

“So,” he takes a bite from his banana and begins speaking with his mouth full, which you make a face at. “I was thinking we lure Dart with bait to a secure area that we can catch him in.” 

“Wait,” Steve sits up a bit in his seat, careful to not knock your hand off his head. “That’s all you got? That’s the entire plan?”

“Yes. Is there a problem?” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” he begins eating as well, his mouth also full and disgusting to look at, “Do you know how we’ll lure him? Or where? Better yet, how will we even catch him?” 

Dustin narrows his eyes. “Okay, so it’s a working idea. You got anything better?”

Steve opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He pauses for a second before seemingly drawing a blank and closing his mouth; he sinks back into his seat in defeat.

“That’s what I thought.” Dustin says smugly.

You take another sip of coffee, enjoying the mug’s warmth around your fingers. “Well, we at least know what Dart likes to eat.”

“We do?” Steve questions, looking up at you.

“Oh, just wait until you hear this,” you motion over to Dustin. “Go on, tell Steve what you’ve been feeding Dart.”

Now it’s your brother’s turn to sink into his seat, embarrassed. He mumbles something that Steve can’t quite hear.

“What?”

He mumbles again, only a tiny bit louder this time.

“Little Henderson, I can’t understand you.” Steve says, smirking when he feels you laugh against him. 

“I said he eats Musketeers Bars!” Dustin shouts, now incredibly defensive. 

In sync, you and Steve share a look. While you have an exasperated fondness on your face, Steve looks like he’s questioning every choice he’s made in his life. It’s cute that he thinks this is the weirdest things will get.

“Okay…” Steve looks over at your brother. “Unless you plan on buying out an entire candy store, we need something else for bait.”

In the corner of your eye you see Mews’ cat bed laying against the window, and an idea pops into your head. “Dustin, did Dart only eat the candy bars before he killed our cat?”

“Yeah, why?” 

As you walk over to the kitchen sink to place your mug in it, you begin explaining. “Then clearly he’s outgrown his sugar needs and would probably eat just about anything with flesh on it.”

Steve wrinkles his face with displeasure, not enjoying the thought of going after this monster that craves meat. He’s already done that, and call him crazy, but he really doesn’t want to experience anything like that ever again. 

Dustin’s eyes light up, following along with what you’re saying. “Raw meat! You’re a genius, Y/N!” 

“And then we can follow the train tracks to that old junkyard, the one that El brought you guys to last year. It’s a straight shot, Dart won’t get lost, and then we catch him.”

Dustin squeals. “That’s perfect!”

He stands up to hug you, which you gladly accept. “Yeah, yeah. We Hendersons are known for our genius,” you gently push your brother away and start exiting the kitchen. “I’m going to go shower and get ready. Steve, you’ll take Dustin to the butcher and see if you can haggle some raw meat out of him.” 

“Uh… can I change first?” He asks, running a hand through his hair with displeasure. 

Only now does Dustin notice Steve’s appearance and he lets out a loud cackle. “Oh, I think you look great!”

You shoot your brother a warning look, not wanting to upset Steve too much. He’s the only one with a car, and the party still hasn’t responded to Dustin’s calls, so he’s all you have right now. Plus, after last night’s conversation, you’re sure he’s feeling just as wound up and tense as you are. 

“We can swing by your place on our way to the train tracks. Your house is right next to it, anyways, and Dustin and I can scout the parameters while you shower and get yourself all pretty. For now, just go to the butcher's shop, please.” 

“But–” 

“Please, Steve?” You pout, daring him to argue with you again. Steve is only able to stand his ground for about five seconds before he groans and nods his head.

“Fine–” You quickly hug him before running towards the bathroom to get ready. 

Once you’re gone, Steve searches for his keys while Dustin stands in the kitchen, shocked. “I so need to know when you two became such good pals.”

“Go wait by the car, Little Henderson.” Steve waves him off, though he’s secretly pleased with how the morning is turning out so far.

–

“C’mon, man. It’s just chunks of raw meat, it doesn’t even matter what, uh, body parts they are, I guess.” Steve argues with the butcher, having no idea why you’ve sent him on this journey with Dustin. Neither of them have any idea about butchers and meat, so they’ve been arguing back and forth for a solid ten minutes with the guy. 

“And I already told you, it’ll be $15. Take it or leave it, pretty boy.” Pat, the butcher, says. 

Steve scowles at the name, “That’s insane for five pounds, you realize that? It’s just a bunch of meat chunks from god knows where, it’s not like we want prime rib you dirty sack of–” 

Dustin cuts him off, snatching the boy’s wallet from his back pocket and pulling out a twenty. “Ignore him, please! Here, thank you so much for your lovely service, good sir.”

Pat narrows his eyes at the boy, and for a split second Dustin is afraid that he’s trying to figure out the best way to skin them alive, before he simply grunts and takes the money. 

Relief washes over Dustin and he scrambles to grab the bags of meat, tugging at Steve’s sleeve in urgence until he gives in and begins to help as well. Within a few seconds, they’ve gathered all they need and head towards the car. 

“Keep the change!” Dustin calls out behind him. 

As soon as they’re in the car, he yells at Steve to step on it. It’s already been twenty minutes since they left the house, and he knows from experience to never keep you waiting. 

“Okay, okay, god.” Steve complies, pushing down on the gas and speeding away from the butcher’s shop. 

The smell of raw meat immediately infiltrates the car, so Steve rolls down the windows and sighs. This is definitely not the weekend he had in mind. He thought he’d apologize to Nancy, kiss and hopefully make up, and maybe even swing by your place to tell you the good news. 

Instead, he has buckets of raw meat in his car and his head is swimming from his conversation with you from last night. While he’s happy it happened, there’s still so much Steve feels like you aren’t telling him. To top it all off, he hadn’t been able to sleep in his own bed, but rather a bean bag that Jonathan apparently has slept in a million times before. 

As Steve is moping, he realizes that there actually wasn’t even a real need to spend the night. 

“Hey, Little Henderson,” Steve gently hits Dustin’s shoulder to get his attention. “Why did I have to spend the night at your place?” 

“Oh, you didn’t.” Dustin says as if it’s no big deal.

Steve turns his head towards him, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d actually spend the night if we’re being honest. I just thought it’d be funny to mess with you.” 

“I tried arguing with you, but you shushed me!” Steve exclaims, putting both hands back on the steering wheel aggressively. 

The younger boy shrugs, “What are you, seventeen? Eighteen? Why would you listen to a thirteen year old?” 

“Well, I–” As much as he wants to, Steve really can’t defend himself on this one. Shit. It’s not like he can tell Dustin that he mostly stayed because his sister is pretty and makes him feel safe.

Dustin smiles, happy to have won the conversation at hand, and decides to really rub it in as they pull up to the house. “I also thought it’d be hilarious to pair you up with my sister. Hope you two made smart choices last night.”

And with those words, Dustin springs out the car, leaving a speechless Steve behind. He turns the car off and sits there for a moment, completely at a loss for words. He’s only spent a total of sixteen hours with the kid, and already he knows he’s in for a world more of trouble. 

If you’re Hawkins’ sweetheart, then Dustin is the town’s horribly terrifying weasel. 

Meanwhile, you’ve just finished lacing up your shoes when Dustin walks in.

“Where are the rubber gloves that mom likes?” He asks in lieu of greeting you. 

“In the closet, second shelf, next to her cat figurines. Where’s Steve?”

Dustin rustles around the closet and pulls out three sets of gloves, “In the car, moping.” 

There’s a crash and then he tosses two buckets onto the carpet. You crouch down and grab the buckets, placing them on the table. “Why is he moping?”

“Why is who moping?” The man in question walks in, throwing himself on the couch and narrowly dodging the third bucket that Dustin throws out. “Why do you guys keep throwing shit at me, jesus!” 

“Language! There’s kids around,” You snap your fingers at Steve, who quickly cowers in shame. “And if it makes any difference, the bucket wasn’t intentional. The rest were, though.” 

Just as Dustin is finishing up in the closet, you spot a can of gasoline and an idea sparks in your head. If you learned anything at Jonathan’s house last year, it’s that these Demogorgon things really hate fire. “Hey, grab the gasoline as well.”

He does as he’s told, no questions asked, and then hands it to you. You add it to the pile on the table, along with two backpacks from your brother and your beloved switchblade. 

Steve gets up from the couch to investigate your stash, nodding approvingly. “Not bad, guys. What are we going to put in the backpacks, though?” 

Dustin goes into the kitchen and begins grabbing the few items within it. The remaining fruits in the basket, a few pieces of bread, a bag of chips, and some water bottles. “One bag will have our food, the other will have our weapons.” 

And with that, you guys are all set to head out. While Dustin is distracted with grabbing his backpack, you run towards Steve’s car and throw yourself into the passenger seat. Every man for himself. 

“What– Y/N!” He calls after you, but he’s too late. You’ve already buckled yourself up by the time he and Steve get into the car themselves. 

“She beat ya, buddy.” Steve teases, flashing you a proud smile. 

Dustin grumbles in the backseat, unamused, and for a moment you think he’ll leave it at that. However, because he’s Dustin, you see from the rearview mirror as his eyes spark with revenge. “So, Steve.”

The tone in his voice terrifies you. 

You place your head in your hands and sigh, mentally preparing for whatever your brother is about to say. 

“Yes, Dustin?”

“How long have you been friendly with my sister?”

“Dustin!” You whip your head around, lunging towards the back seat to swat at the boy, but he quickly scoots over to Steve’s side and avoids your hands. 

Steve, however, surprises you by simply shrugging and taking the question in stride. There’s no embarrassment on his face, no ounce of hesitation in his voice. “About a year now.”

“A year?” Dustin exclaims, having completely not expected such a response. “Y/N, how could you keep this from me?”

“She didn’t hide anything from you, buddy.” Steve defends you, eyes focused on the road. “I convinced her to be my friend after I saved her life–”

“You saved her life?”

“And then bought you boys snacks at the hospital afterwards. Then, because I really wanted to be her friend, I basically stalked her at work every day and annoyed my way into her life. We’ve been pretty close ever since.”

Dustin’s jaw is practically on the ground after Steve’s quick explanation, left speechless for the first time in his life. As for you, you’re admiring the way the early morning sun causes Steve to glow. You’ll never be over how often his beauty distracts you; you wonder how Nancy, or really anyone, could deny him love.

If you didn’t know Steve, if you passed by him on the street one day as complete strangers, you’re sure that a part of you would fall in love with him. 

Even with pieces of his hair standing all over the place, his shirt still being too small, he was a delicate kind of handsome that made you feel a certain warmth.

“Did I forget anything, Y/N?” Steve’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, and you quickly divert your eyes away from the way his arms look while holding the steering wheel. 

“No, uh.” You clear your throat, still recovering. Steve seems to be in good spirits for once, it’s a breath of fresh air seeing him so content, and yet it also serves as a stark reminder that you made the right choice when you first distanced yourself from him. He’s just too easy to love. “I think you pretty much covered everything. Unless Dustin has any questions?”

“Give me three to five business days to process this, please.” Your brother mumbles from the backseat, which you and Steve laugh at. 

The rest of the ride is relatively peaceful after that, and a few minutes later you arrive at Steve’s house. It’s different in the daylight, only ever having seen it late one night driving the boy home from the Halloween party. 

It’s a beautiful home, the smell of chlorine fills your nose. The pool, you remember Nancy mentioning his pool when she explained what happened to Barb. You shiver, now aware that you’re in the same place that your friend took her last breaths at, just a year ago. 

“The tracks are just over on the other side of the street, and I shouldn’t be too long, so you Hendersons can start figuring out the plan in the meantime.” Steve instructs you and Dustin, getting out of the car and entering his house. 

Dustin begins getting out as well, so you unbuckle your seatbelt and follow. Thankfully you decided to wear jeans today with a simple tank top and cardigan with your knit socks; though it was late October, it’s unusually sunny outside and the walk from Steve’s to the junkyard was easily four to five miles. 

The two of you walk over to the tracks and you survey the area. You’re not sure what exactly you’re looking for, but you figure it’s best to look focused in case Dustin yells at you. 

“We’ll need to go that way,” Dustin points in front of you, and you nod as you follow along. “We can drop the meat chunks every few sleepers so we don’t waste any of it.” 

“Sleepers?”

“These.” Dustin’s shoe scrapes against the bottom wooden planks. 

“You would know what they’re called.”

“Ha ha, any more quips or can I continue?”

You put your hands up in surrender and Dustin begins to speak again.

“Then once we get to the junkyard, we can dump whatever meat is left in a pile and put the gasoline on it. Once Dart is distracted and eating, we’ll light it on fire.” His words catch a bit at the end, and you suddenly feel bad for him. He clearly still cares about Dart, but you know your brother understands the risks of letting the Demodog live. 

Without saying anything, you reach over and pull Dustin in for a hug. He fights it at first, but after a couple seconds he gives in and hugs you back. You aren’t the most affectionate pair of siblings, but you love your younger brother fiercely. Not for the first time, you wish you could’ve done more to prevent him from discovering the Upside Down. 

You know it’s irrational to blame yourself and feel guilty, but maybe if you’d been more involved last year, then maybe he wouldn’t have so many nightmares. 

“I’m sorry about Dart,” you say softly against his hat. 

Dustin breaks away, shrugging his shoulders. “Gotta protect the party, right?”

“Right.” You flick his hat. “C’mon, let’s go back to the car and start putting the meat in the buckets.” 

True to his word, Steve is ready to go after about twenty minutes. He walks out of his house, freshly clean and put together, right as you and Dustin finish preparing the bait. He approaches from behind you, and you can smell his cologne. Memories from when he’d have his arms around you and you’d smell the familiar scent now wash over you. 

Clearing your throat, you turn to hand him gloves and a bucket, but almost drop it when you see him. 

He looks good. Like, frustratingly good. His hair is back in its usual style, but he’s wearing a dark blue polo and a gray jacket that fits him criminally well. You almost feel underdressed standing next to him with your ratty old cardigan, which you know is ridiculous to be concerned about. Plus, you’ve always known that Steve was attractive, so it’s stupid to be affected by it suddenly now. 

You guys had one emotional conversation. 

“Y/N?” 

Steve’s staring at you quizzically, and you quickly snap out of your thoughts and hand him the bucket full of bait and instruct him to put the gloves on. He listens, dutifully putting them on and placing the bucket on the ground and starts searching for one of the backpacks in the trunk. He’s seemingly in a much better mood now, which you’re thankful for. 

“Dustin! This is Lucas. Do you copy? Dustin?” 

Lucas’ voice rings out from Dustin’s walkie, and you perk your head up, relieved that he’s okay. The radio silence from the party was something that unnerved you immensely. With Dart on the loose, Will’s increasing episodes, who knows what else is happening in Hawkins at the moment? 

“Well, well, well, look who it is.” Dustin responds, placing his hands on his hips like a disappointed mother. You chuckle at him and continue helping Steve unload the trunk. 

You hear Lucas sigh into the walkie. “Sorry, man. My stupid sister turned it off.” 

“Tell Erica I say hi!” You call out, knowing Lucas will hear you. He always resented the fact that his sister is so nice to you. You’re the only living person who didn’t receive Erica’s insane insults, which is something you’re very proud of.

“Y/N?”

“Hi, Lucas!” 

Dustin shoos you away and continues to speak. “Well, when you were having sister problems, which really aren’t that hard to handle–” 

“Says you,” you butt in. 

“Dart grew again, he escaped, and I’m pretty sure he’s a baby Demogorgon.” Your brother finishes. By this point, you and Steve have pretty much unpacked everything in the car. 

“Wait, what?” You’d kill to see the look on Lucas’ face right now. 

“I’ll explain later, just meet me, Y/N, and Steve at the old junkyard.” As Dustin wraps up the conversation, Steve shoves his bat into the bag and you watch him with disappointment. He’s trying really hard to make it fit, and you almost pity the boy. Bless him. 

There’s a pause before Lucas asks, “Steve?”

Dustin doesn’t elaborate, instead instructing his friend to bring his binoculars and wrist rocket. You suppose it’s a good idea to add more weapons to your arsenal. Better safe than sorry.

“Steve Harrington?” Lucas asks again, this time even more confused. 

“He’s a friend,” you say, shoving your own weapons into the bag and slinging it over your shoulder. 

Steve closes the trunk and says, “Damn straight I am. Alright, let’s go.”

You follow after him, saying goodbye to Lucas as Dustin tells him to be at the junkyard stat. 

Dustin stashes his walkie in his own bag and then the three of you are off. Your brother and Steve walk a bit ahead of you as you all throw the meat chunks onto the ground, doing as Dustin instructed. It’s slow work, but you’re happy to have some time to yourself while the boys are distracted with each other. Their friendship wasn’t something you’d expect, but you’re incredibly happy about it.

You love the party, you’d do anything for them given all that you’ve been through together. However, as they grow older, you can’t help but notice how much they’re changing. Mike hasn’t been himself since El disappeared, Dustin is now hyper focused on science, Lucas is becoming his own person, and poor Will is just trying to recover from the trauma of last year. 

It’s been hard watching them grow apart, in a way. Nothing will ever be the same after the Upside Down, you know that, but watching the party slowly drift makes you sad for your brother. You’re glad he’s seemingly found someone like Steve to bounce jokes off of and feel appreciated by. You know that someday the kids will all come together again, it’d be impossible not to with how strong of a connection they all have, so you try not to worry too much.

You shove the thoughts down, you need to keep focused on Dart and contacting the rest of the party. So, you dutifully place the bait down and follow behind the boys and feel the time pass by. After about an hour of nonsensical conversation between Steve and Dustin, you hear the older boy finally ask the question of why your brother even hid Dart in the first place. 

“It’s complicated, okay?” Dustin defects, clearly uncomfortable with the change in conversation.

You keep your distance from them, but you keep an ear out just in case you need to intervene. 

“You claim you wanted to get famous off of it or whatever,” Steve drops meat onto the tracks and kicks his foot. “Call me crazy, but you don’t hide something that supposedly makes you famous.” 

He has a point, and Dustin scrunches his face up. He casts a glance your way and you do your best to appear distracted by the job at hand. You know Dustin’s guilty face well, so whatever he’s about to tell Steve will be good. When Dustin shuffles closer to Steve and lowers his voice, you get closer as well so you can listen.

You’re his older sister. It’s your damn job to be nosy.

“It was for this girl.” 

Simultaneously you and Steve react. He hums in approval, almost proud, while you scoff. “I knew it.”

Dustin turns around, horrified. “You knew?”

“Duh, you’re awful at hiding things from me. After Max was just conveniently outside the AV room when Dart originally escaped, I pieced it together immediately. Also, side note: you’re too young to be impressing girls. I told you to just be yourself, dummy.”

Steve lets out a snort. “Pretty ironic coming from you, Y/N.”

Suddenly you feel uncomfortable with his attention on you.

“I’m sorry?” Your voice is steady, but you can feel your hands shaking as you continue throwing the bait. 

“Ya know, your massive crush on Jonathan ever since you were twelve.” He laughs, as if it’s the funniest joke in the world. 

Dustin clears his throat aggressively, pointing to your hands. Steve sees the way that they shake, the tension you now carry in your shoulders, and he’s become familiar enough with you to know your anger cues. The teasing smile that had been on his face drops. He runs towards you so he’s now by your side, and Dustin sighs in disappointment. 

“I didn’t, like, mean anything by that, you know. I–uh, I was kidding, Y/N.” Steve tries to catch your gaze, but you pointedly stare straight ahead and clench your jaw. He’s stumbling over both his words and the tracks beneath his feet, trying desperately to appease you. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“You’re an asshole, Steve Harrington.” 

“Y/N, please, I said I was sorry–”

You finally face him, grabbing his elbow to ensure he doesn’t move. “I told you that stuff about Jonathan in confidence. You don’t get to throw it back in my face, joking or not.” 

It doesn’t help that you’re already confused enough as it is about the boy and your feelings towards him. To have Steve tease you about it, especially because he knows how painful jabs about Nancy are… It really fucking hurts. 

Steve looks like a kicked puppy as you storm ahead of him and Dustin, putting enough distance between you guys so that you can’t hear their conversion that follows. 

“Shit…”

“You’re awful with women.” Dustin says, now continuing to walk. He doesn’t bother to follow after you, knowing that you need your space to cool down. “I wouldn’t follow her, by the way. Let her cool off.”

Steve sighs, now walking as well, “Yeah, I know.” 

They walk in silence for a little while, Steve hanging his head in shame and Dustin leading the way, frustrated by being stuck with two overly emotional teens. 

After a while the silence eats at Steve, so he decides to continue the conversation from earlier. “So, this girl… is she someone you’ve known a while?” 

Dustin shakes his head, “No, she’s new at our school. She’s super cool, though.”

“I remember back when I based my attraction to girls on their coolness.” Steve mumbles. 

“And look where basing it off their hotness has gotten you.” 

“Ouch,” Steve rubs at his chest, wounded.

Dustin laughs and flings some bait at him. “I thought that if I showed her Dart, she’d think I was cool, too, and like me.”

Steve sidesteps the thrown bait and tries to comprehend what the younger boy is saying. “So, you kept something that you knew was probably dangerous in order to impress a girl who… you just met?”

“Alright, that’s grossly oversimplifying things. And anyways, who are you to give me girl advice? My sister is literally three hundred feet ahead of us because you pissed her off with one singular sentence.” Then, almost as if as an afterthought, Dustin adds, “congrats, by the way. I’ve never seen someone piss her off so quickly.” 

“Look, this isn’t about me, okay? Sure, I messed up with Y/N, but it isn’t like I was hitting on her to begin with,” Dustin makes a disgusted face as Steve quickly continues, panicked. “So she doesn’t count. I just feel like you’re trying way too hard, man.” 

“Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, alright?” Dustin grumbles. 

Steve shakes his head, slightly amused by the boy’s antics. He’s so much like you, and yet so different, and Steve is realizing it’ll take a lot to keep up with the kid. “It’s not about the hair, dude. Chicks dig more than just a good hairstyle.” 

“You’re literally known as Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.”

“Hey, ‘King Steve’ is also there.” 

Dustin flings even more bait at Steve, now annoyed with him. “Whatever man, it’s not like you’d be any help anyways.” 

“Oh really? Well, Little Henderson, I’m about to blow your mind: the key to girls is just acting like you don’t care.”

“Even if you do?”

“Yeah, exactly.” Steve now brightens up, happy to finally be getting through to the boy. For Steve, he’s long since learned that the best way to avoid getting hurt is to pretend that he doesn’t care. “It drives them nuts.”

“Then what?” 

“You just wait,” Steve looks ahead, watching you and feeling like a complete dick. He really hadn’t meant to hurt you, hell the two of you were finally starting to get somewhere and yet… Steve fucked it up. As always. 

He can see that your shoulders are still tensed up, you’re walking faster than you need to be. He feels a heavy weight in his stomach, one that he’s never felt before; he doesn’t like it. “You wait… until you feel it.”

Dustin furrows his brows. “Feel what?”

Steve tears his gaze away from you and turns back to Dustin, beginning to explain the electricity between someone you’re interested in. Being the geek that he is, Dustin turns it into a scientific discussion and Steve does his best to steer the conversation back. 

“No, like sexual electricity.” He explains.

As soon as the words leave Steve’s lips, you whip around and shout, “Are you seriously talking to my little brother about sexual electricity?”

Both Dustin and Steve freeze in place, dumbfounded. You let out a loud groan and continue stomping away, now even more aggressively throwing the chunks at the train tracks. 

“How did she even hear me?” Steve whispers, terrified. 

“I don’t know,” Your brother whispers back, also equally frightened. “Sometimes I think she has powers like El.”

Once you’re a safe enough distance away from them, Dustin hesitantly brings the girl conversation back up. “Hypothetically, what do girls like?”

Steve takes a second to answer, carefully rolling the question around in his mind. “It depends on the girl. Some girls want you to be aggressive, ya know? Go in for the kiss, make them feel protected. Strong, hot and heavy. Like a lion.” 

Dustin hums to indicate he’s following along, but ‘like a lion’ has him a little worried about the reliability of the conversation. He knows that Steve is a lady’s man, but he’s also never seen him with any girl besides Nancy, and the one time he saw him with you, he had immediately pissed you off. 

So for all Dustin knows, it could be lies. 

Steve continues his confusing explanation. “But others? You gotta be slow, you gotta be stealthy… like a ninja!”

“Okay, what type is Nancy?” Dustin asks, hoping to get the teen to stop making stupid analogies. Lions, ninjas… maybe it was all lies. 

The question catches Steve off guard and he stumbles a bit, feeling the familiar sense of protectiveness, insecurity, over the girl as well as a new sense of loss. What type is Nancy? If he had been asked this a week ago, Steve would’ve told Dustin that she’s a nice girl, a girl he could happily bring home to his parents and proudly wrap around his arms. Now? He’s not so sure. 

Not when he can still see the anger and disgust in Nancy’s eyes that night at the party. 

“Nancy’s different,” he recalls his conversation with you from last night, how he’d confessed to always feeling two steps behind the girl and how exhausting it all is. “She’s just different. Let’s move on to the next question.” 

Dustin notices Steve’s change in demeanor but doesn’t say anything. He supposes that you and him have a lot in common, then. “Okay, what type would you say Y/N is?”

Once again Steve isn’t expecting the question Dustin asks. “What–” he trips over a twig and just barely manages to catch himself. “Why would you ask me that? She’s your sister, and I don’t even like her–”

“Relax, Romeo. She’s just similar to Nancy and the girl I like, and I figured you’d know Y/N well enough by now considering you guys slept together–”

“I slept on her bean bag–”

“And have been friends for like, a year. Plus, she’s in love with Jonathan, you’re in love with Nancy, and coincidentally they’re in love with each other. Figures that there’s some type intermingling between the four of you.”

How the hell does everyone know about Nancy and Jonathan? Steve thinks bitterly. 

He’s silent for multiple seconds, absolutely at a loss for what to say. He doesn’t know where to begin or what to even deny. Technically the boy is right, as much as it hurts Steve to admit. He’s all but lost Nancy to Jonathan, and you’ve lost Jonathan to Nancy. 

In an extremely messed up way, you and Nancy do have the same type. On top of that, both you and Nancy are close to Jonathan, so it’s safe to assume there’s similarities to the both of you that Steve doesn’t even want to touch on right now.

Even more importantly, Steve has yet to really decipher why your presence alone can make or break his entire day. Why, after months of not talking, it now feels like he’s finally come home again with you back in his life. 

He looks at you again, still angrily throwing your bait, and he supposes that you’re a lot like Nancy in certain aspects, and yet completely different from her. “Y/N is also different, I guess. She’s incredibly intelligent both emotionally and academically. Isn’t she like the top of her class?”

Dustin nods, proud of the Henderson intelligence, and Steve continues. 

“Right. I’d say she’s like Nancy, except she’s softer?” Steve cringes at his own words, suddenly uncomfortable with comparing the two of you. In his mind, you’re both your own separate entities that infatuate him in different ways. 

You both burn Steve; Nancy is like a shot of whiskey, the thrill that follows the burn. But you? You’re a fireplace after hours of being out in the cold, the burn of it warming his bones.

“Y/N is just… she’s special, but everyone knows that. Your sister is the most caring person I’ve ever met, and I know I’m a lucky son of a bitch to be someone she trusts.” 

Dustin snorts. “Yeah you are.”

Up ahead, you finally slow down and face the boys, now waiting for them to catch up and call out, “C’mon, ladies! The sun sets soon, I don’t want Lucas waiting in the cold all alone.” 

“Looks like I’ve been forgiven.” Steve says, relief evident in his voice, something that your brother doesn’t miss.

Dustin lets out another loud snort, patting him on the chest, “Oh, my sister may be forgiving, but she never forgets.” With that, he walks away to catch up with you. 

“Well, isn’t that ominous.” 

You greet the boys with a tired smile, knowing there’s no use holding resentment towards Steve. He couldn’t have known about your mixed feelings towards Jonathan, you know he had only been trying to get along with Dustin. 

Things are still weird between you two, despite the conversation from last night, but it’s hard to stay mad at Steve and honestly, you don’t really want to be mad at him. It’s been so lovely having him around again, and your own confusing feelings can wait. 

Steve leans in close to you, gently grabbing at your hand so that you don’t walk away. “Hey, we okay?”

His eyes are full of concern and his voice is sickly sweet like honey. With the honey, the remaining bits of anger vanishes. “Of course we’re okay.”

Steve exhales deeply and you giggle at him before remembering that Dustin is quite literally a few feet away from you two. Coughing, you hold up your bucket to point out how it’s almost empty. “I guess in my rage, I flung more than I intended. How are your buckets holding up?” 

The two boys hold their buckets up, giving you a mock solute to indicate that all is good. You laugh, impressed by how synched they’ve become in such a short time. 

“Alright, then. Let’s get going.” As you all begin to walk in line again, you ask, “What were you guys even talking about, anyways?” 

The boys glance at each other in a conspiring way, which causes you to roll your eyes. They’re acting like you asked for their deepest and darkest secrets. They seem to have a silent conversation for a couple seconds before Steve finally speaks up. 

“I was just giving Little Henderson some girl advice. Nothing serious.” 

You raise your eyebrows, your heart swelling a bit at the idea of Steve giving your brother advice. It’s sweet, really. “Girl advice, huh?”

“Yeah, why do you sound so skeptical?” 

“Because you’re terrible with girls.” 

Dustin now butts in, “He told me to be aggressive.” 

“I did not!”

“He also said that you’re softer than Nancy.”

You make a face. “Thank you? I think?”

Steve tugs at his hair in frustration. “You two are the worst people I’ve ever met. You know that, right?” 

In unison, you and Dustin reply, “We get that a lot.” 

Steve stares at the two of you with slight horror in his eyes. “Yeah, alright. I’m out.” 

You grab at his sleeve, gently stopping him from storming away. You give him an apologetic look and pull him close so that your chest bumps against his. “You’ve gotta get used to the Henderson humor, Steve.”

He looks surprised by your tugging at his sleeve before he lets a smile cross his face. He doesn’t do anything else, but he also doesn’t back away, either, and you find yourself blushing a bit under his gaze. 

You clear your throat and let go of his sleeve, stepping back a bit. “Anyways, why don’t you tell me what wise advice you have for my brother.” 

The smile that was just on Steve’s face vanishes as he looks away from you. “I was just telling the kid to not fall in love with his little crush. He’s too young for heartbreak and all that other shit.” 

“I’m not in love with her!” Dustin exclaims in disgust, but you’re too distracted by Steve’s words to assure your brother that you believe him. 

“Well, I believe that love is something beautiful.” You say, your words only meeting Steve’s turned back. He doesn’t acknowledge you, but you know his indifference holds no malice. He’s still hurting, still in love with Nancy Wheeler. “Dustin, you may be too young to be in love, but don’t listen to Steve. To love and be loved is the luckiest thing we can ever do, regardless of how it ends.” 

Dustin blanches at your words, grossed out now. “Okay, okay, stop! Love is gross. I get it.” 

You softly mumble sorry to him, now suddenly remembering that he’s only thirteen. When you were his age, the idea of love also grossed you out. Now, love is a concept that you’ve found a comforting warmth in, even if it's burned you a few times and has left you more exhausted than exhilarated. One day he’ll understand (in the far off future, hopefully). 

For now, you flick your brother’s hat and follow after Steve, finishing the rest of the bait journey in silence. 

– 

By the time the three of you get to the junkyard, it’s already about midday. 

It’s different from how you imagined it, filled with old cars and a giant school bus. It’s more open, too, not as “junkyard” as you assumed. 

You, Steve, and Dustin stand at the top of the hill, surveying the area. Your feet ache from the walk and the sun is hurting your eyes. Seeing you squinting, Steve wordlessly hands you his signature Raybans and motions for you to put them on. 

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, this will do. It’ll do just fine,” He says, satisfied as he begins to walk down the hill. Then, as an afterthought, he says to Dustin, “Good call, dude.”

Dustin beams with pride and you fill with so much happiness, seeing the boy getting along so well with Steve, that you almost regret not having them meet sooner. However, there’s no time to wallow in what-if’s and you put Steve’s sunglasses on to follow after the boys. 

Immediately you and Steve get to work, working seamlessly together side by side, months of him joining you in Bookstrordinary finally being put to use. While you and Steve silently scatter more meat and grab supplies, Dustin surveys the area.

Just as you’ve dumped the remaining meat in the middle of the field, you hear Lucas’ voice call from a few yards away, “I said medium well!”

The boy is with Max, who looks slightly displeased, yet curious, to be here. Despite her still obvious hesitation, you still feel excited seeing the girl. You’ve been meaning to talk more to her, she seems like such a lovely girl. 

“Who’s that?” Steve asks you.

“Max! She’s great, and–” You start gushing about the girl, eager to go and say hi, before you see the crestfallen look on Dustin’s face when he realizes why she’s with Lucas. You remember, then, the weird tug-of-war between the boys over her. Shit. 

You grab at Steve’s hand and pull him aside. “Actually, Steve, why don’t we start finding some panels to cover the bus?”

Steve gives you a questioning look, but when you silently motion towards Dustin and he sees his despair as well, he catches on and just nods, following along. Without having to tell him, he understands that you want to leave Dustin alone so he can talk to Lucas. 

As always, you’re forever thankful that he can read you so well. 

After guiding Steve away, you and him begin to prep the junkyard alongside Max. While the boys are talking, you take this as an opportunity to get to know the girl better. 

“So,” you begin, helping Max carry a large piece of wood over to the bus. “I see you’re back again.”

“Looks like it,” she shrugs, not really feeling like talking. Seems like she’s still mad at you for yesterday, taking Lucas’ side over hers. 

You sigh. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”

“That’s a first.” Again she deflects, but you know she’s doing it out of hurt rather than maliciousness. 

“I know you don’t really like me right now, which I totally understand, I just wanted to let you know that while I don’t like that you’ve been dragged into this mess, I’m happy you’re here.”

Max frowns at you. “You guys act like I’m going to like, die or something.”

A scrap of metal that you’d been carrying slips from your hands. Steve hears this and comes rushing over to help, but you gently wave him away and focus on Max. “I don’t know what Lucas told you, but it’s all true. It’s dangerous, being here, and I just… If you ever get hurt, any of you kids, then it’d be on me and I’d never forgive myself.”

“Way to be a buzzkill, Y/N.” Steve nudges you, trying to get you to smile before your ever-present guilt bears down upon you. 

Max bites her lip, still disbelieving, but she recognizes the pained look of protectiveness on your face. It’s not something that someone can easily fake, and from what she’s heard about you, your kindness is one of the few genuine things in Hawkins. 

Before she can say anything else, Steve lets out a huff and grabs a chair to bang on the car that Lucas and Dustin are talking behind. “Hey! Dickheads! How come it’s only Y/N and some random girl helping me?”

“Language!” You chastise. 

Steve sends you a thumbs up, not really listening. “We lose light in forty minutes. Let’s go!”

Dustin and Lucas reluctantly start helping, both calling Steve an asshole and throwing him dirty looks, which you can’t help but laugh at. 

Lucas sees you laughing and points at you. “Are you the reason Harrington is here?”

“Mhm,” you respond, nailing another piece of wood to the bus. “He’s done more to help than you have, so either pick up some metal and help or go sit in a corner and sulk. Up to you.”

Steve high fives you. “Yeah! What she said!”

Lucas’ shoulders sag, completely at a loss as to how any of this has happened. “This is so weird.”

“Dude, I’ve spent all day with them. Imagine how I feel,” Dustin groans. “I think I died a little when I found out they’ve been friends for like, a year.”

“A year?” Lucas gasps. 

“Guys!” You throw pebbles at the two boys to break up their little gossip session. “One, I’m incredibly hurt you two didn’t think I had any friends besides Jonathan. Two, start helping before I throw more rocks.”

“Yes ma’am,” both boys grumble in unison, which Max finds pretty impressive. 

After that, the five of you get to work. You guys use every item available in the junkyard to secure the bus, hoping that with enough stacked against it, you’ll be safe from Dart once he’s lured. Barrels are rolled, more sheets of metal are placed against the bus, and within the next hour or so you’ve successfully managed to build a decent base. 

All that’s left is to pour the gasoline trail, which you help Steve with as the kids watch from inside the bus. 

“I’m getting major deja-vu right now,” you mumble as Steve pours. 

“Gasoline at Jonathan’s?” 

“Mhm. God, he wouldn’t believe what we’re doing right now.” You know he would’ve loved this bizarre interaction. You, Steve, and the kids all in a junkyard trying to lure a baby Demogorgon. 

You’ve definitely had better babysitting days, and Jonathan would have a field day with this one. 

Once you’re done with the gasoline, you and Steve return to the bus. He waits behind you, making sure you’re securely in the car, before he heaves the old bus door closed. As soon as the door is closed, you and Steve exhale together.

You share a look, both in silent agreement to keep the kids safe no matter what. It’s your guys’ job to keep them safe, to fight for and protect them. 

Deja-vu again. You’re back in Jonathan’s house, holding a switchblade while Steve wields his bat. 

“Ready?” He asks you, extending his hand out for you to grab. 

You interlock your fingers through his. “When am I ever?”

Steve laughs, dispelling away any remaining uncertainty and fear. You know, that no matter what, that he’ll be by your side to help. With this in mind, you join the kids further into the bus. 

Lucas climbs the ladder up to the top, something you’re not fully okay with, but he’s the one with the binoculars and you the switchblade, so it makes the most sense. As the boy climbs, you sit down next to Steve as he flicks his lighter on and off. You’re pressed shoulder to shoulder, his presence grounding you.

Dustin paces, and all you can do is watch him as you try to settle your own nerves. Max has seated herself at the other end of the bus, her arms crossed as usual. 

After a few moments of silence, she finally speaks. “So, you really fought one of these things before?”

Steve nods and you hum in agreement. “Unfortunately.”

“And you’re, like, totally, 100% sure it wasn’t a bear?”

“I mean, to be fair I also had that same thought last year–”

Dustin cuts you off. “Shit, don’t be an idiot, okay? It wasn’t a bear.”

You roughly grab at your brother, yanking him towards you to shut him up. “Dustin–”

“Why are you even here if you don’t believe us?” He sneers at Max, something you’ve never, ever seen your sweet brother do. “Just go home.”

Max clenches her jaw and you send her an apologetic look, but she rolls her eyes at you. “Geesh, someone’s cranky. Past your bedtime?” 

“Max, wait–” She ignores you and climbs up the ladder to join Lucas. You groan once she’s gone, now more than ever wanting to strangle your brother. “Dustin, what the hell was that?”

“That was good, Y/N!” Steve says, a proud smirk on his face. “He showed her he didn’t care, just like I told him to.”

“Oh, so it’s your fault my sweet, innocent baby brother is now some woman hating misogynistic piece of–”

“I don’t hate women, Y/N.” Dustin tiredly says, before directing his next words to Steve. “And I don’t care.”

Steve winks at the boy, but immediately flinches back when you raise your hand to smack him. “Yeah, cower away, you idiotic and moronic–”

“Y/N, stop overreacting and Steve, stop winking at me.”

You raise your eyebrows at Dustin’s tone and he quickly clears his throat and steps away from you. Steve puts some distance between you two as well, scooting away a bit so that he’s out of hitting range. 

It’s quiet again, both boys now scared of your anger, and you anxiously wait for Dart to show up. 

Steve goes back to flicking the lighter, Dustin paces again, and you tap your foot nervously. The silence is killing you, it’s always been your least favorite part of the Upside Down. The waiting, hoping you’re prepared for when all hell inevitably breaks loose. 

You flick your own blades out, admiring the way the blades catch in the moonlight, when you hear a loud growl come from outside. Instinctively you raise your blades to your face while Steve and Dusin scramble to peek through the metal sheets to look out the window. 

“You guys see him?” Dustin asks as he crouches next to you. 

You shake your head. “No,”

There’s nothing outside, only a thick haze of fog that has settled over the junkyard. 

“Lucas, what’s going on?” Your brother calls up to his friend.

“Hold on!” The boy responds. 

Your heart begins to beat faster, your blades never straying away from your face, poised for a fight. Steve sees the way your knuckles whiten over your weapon and he grabs your spare hand, gently coaxing you to calm down. 

Your fingers tighten around Steve’s and you remember his words from last night, promising you that he’ll be there, and you believe him. 

From the bus’ roof, you hear Lucas call down, “I’ve got eyes! Ten o’clock–ten o’clock!”

There, in the haze of fog, you see a hunched figure stalk its way towards the bus. Seeing Dart, you’re filled with complete dread. He’s grown again, much bigger than you’ve ever seen him.

He’s practically the size of the Demogorgon from last year, the same one that almost killed you and Steve. 

“What’s he doing?” Dustin asks, as if anyone else would have any more information than he does. 

“I don’t know,” Steve sighs, his eyes never leaving Dart. 

You squeeze his hand again and hold your breath as you watch the Demodog. He slowly approaches the bait, inspects the area, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in it. You send a silent prayer to whatever god is above that your plan will work. 

It has to work. 

However, Dart starts to back away from the bait and Steve leans even closer to the window. “He’s not taking the bait. Why isn’t he taking the bait?”

“I don’t know,” you want to cry from exhaustion and fear and defeat. 

Dustin looks over at you. “Maybe he’s not hungry?”

Something seems to click, then, for Steve. His eyes light up with an idea, and before he can even get his words out, you grasp at Steve’s arm and try to talk him out of it. “No, absolutely not. You’re not going out there.”

“Maybe he’s sick of cow.” Steve tries to make you let go of him, but you quickly tighten your hold on him and fight back. “Y/N, let me go, I can run fast and–”

“You can’t just use yourself as bait!” You plead, but Steve has always been stronger than you and he drags you behind him as he makes his way towards the bus door. “Steve, listen to me!”

“Steve? Steve!” Dustin finally catches on to what’s happening and he grabs at the teen as well. “What are you doing?”

Steve ignores you both and with a quick jerk of his arm, he frees himself from you. As soon as you’ve let go, he runs towards the door and snatches his bat from the ground. You curse, knowing there’s no way in hell he’s going out there alone, so you follow after him. 

Dustin sees this and panics. “Y/N, please don’t tell me you’re going–”

“Stay put!” You command, scrambling after Steve, who has now begun to open the door. He tosses you the lighter, which you toss to your brother. “Just get ready, Dustin!”

“Y/N!”

“I love you!”

Dustin continues to shout, his pleas laced with more fear than you’ve ever heard from him, but you force yourself to leave. Just as you’ve stepped outside and re-closed the bus door, Dustin pounds against the glass that you’ve locked, tears in his eyes.

You look away, despite how fucking hard it is, and it takes everythin within you to leave. 

Steve saved your life last year. 

Now it’s your turn. 

It’s tense outside as you and Steve walk back to back, weapons out. He twirls his bat a few times, a move that you find yourself smiling at due to its familiarity. With your back against his, you whisper to Steve, “You look for Dart, I keep an eye for anything else?”

He nods, and together the two of you slowly follow the sound of Dart’s chittering. 

“C’mon buddy,” Steve taunts, beginning to whistle. 

“I know we named it a Demodog, but I don’t think whistling will help.”

“We could be about to die, and you’re seriously questioning what I’m doing?”

You shrug, eyes now on the skyline as the fog slowly thickens. “Habit.”

Steve chuckles, which brings some comfort to the fucking awful situation at hand. He whistles some more, continuing to taunt Dart. “C’mon. Dinner time.”

“Again with offering Dart meals while we’re near him,” you shake your head, not at all liking where any of this is going.

“What? At least human tastes better than cat.” Steve responds, now at the pile of raw meat.

You both stop here, Steve facing the bait and you facing the bus, still scanning for literally anything else that could possibly go wrong. Because you’re Y/N Henderson and nothing can ever, ever go right for you. 

Dart lets out another growl, now having spotted Steve, and the teen swings his bat around. You spare a quick glance behind you and see Dart, who has placed all his focus on you and Steve. 

Well, at least the live bait plan is working. 

You turn away again, and as soon as you do, you see the other Demodogs now suddenly appear. Your blood runs cold when you see the two up ahead, one directly in front of you and one on top of the cars. 

For a moment, your words seem to fail you and no sound comes out when you try to speak. All you can do is stare at them, overcome with fear. You’re back in Jonathan’s once more, the fear strangling you as the memories paralyze you. 

From the top of the bus, Lucas yells, “Steve! Y/N! Watch out!”

“We’re a little busy here!” Steve yells back, eyes still on Dart. 

The Demodog in front of you starts to approach, which finally seems to break you from your spell. Shakily, you tell Steve, “There’s more.”

“What?” He tries to turn around, but you shove at him to not lose sight of Dart. You can’t distract him now. Another Demodog has joined.

“Three o’clock! Right in front of Y/N!” Lucas screams, his voice cracking with fear. 

“Y/N?” Steve fully turns around now when he realizes that you’re also in danger, and when he sees the three other Demodogs, he lets out a curse. “Shit.”

Suddenly, you and Steve are surrounded by Demodogs, more than you ever could’ve imagined. More than the two of you can even fight on your own. 

Back at Jonathan’s, it had taken guns, fire, knives, and bats to kill a grown Demogorgon. 

You don’t think your knives and Steve’s bat will be enough for Demodogs. 

“Steve! Y/N! Abort!” Dustin has flung the bus door open, screeching for the two of you to get out of there. 

It’s too late. Dart has opened his mouth and is running towards you two, his friends joining as well. 

“I go left, you go right!” Steve has just enough time to direct you before Dart lunges. 

You dodge, going right as instructed while Steve flings himself on top of a car to avoid the monsters. As Steve hits Dart with his bat, crouched against the car, you narrowly avoid the other Demodog and drop to the ground as it jumps over your head. “Shit!”

Steve swings his bat again and tries to make his way over to you, but you’re off the ground in a heartbeat and run to him instead. Two of the Demodogs are on him now, and there’s only so much damage his bat can do. Breathless, you run over and stab at their backs, doing everything you can to give Steve an opening to run. 

Faintly, you hear the kids in the background cheering you guys on, urging you two to come home.

One of the Demodogs lets out a harsh screech as your blade pierces its skin. It crumbles to the ground, giving Steve just enough of an opening to begin running towards the bus. When he goes to run, you notice one of the Demodogs eying him, and before you can even process what’s happening, you’re throwing yourself in front of him and you feel nails tear at your ribs.

You scream, clutching at your side in agony, feeling blood quickly beginning to spill from your wound. “Fuck!”

“Y/N!” Steve starts to run toward you, pale with fear. 

“No!” You shove him back towards the bus; you can’t let him get hurt because of you. “Go, I’ll be fine!” 

He tries to argue, but you take a deep breath and grip his jacket tightly, practically flinging him inside the bus just before Dart lunges again. Together, the two of you stumble up the steps and barricade the door. 

As soon as it’s closed, Dart begins slamming against it with his entire body. 

Steve uses his legs to hold the door closed while you lay sprawled on the ground, trying to steady your breathing as more blood spills from you. The room is spinning and you’re pretty sure you can taste blood in your mouth. 

Awesome. Cool. 

The kids are screaming and Dart’s body causes the entire bus to rock as his friends now join, throwing their own bodies against the bus as well.

“Are they rabid or something?” Max screams, but everyone ignores her. 

Steve, quick as ever, finds a spare piece of metal and wedges it against the door and uses his legs again to hold it in place. He looks over at you on the ground and feels his heart jump to his throat. You’re pale, a sheen of sweat now dotted across your forehead, and there’s now a concerningly large pool of blood where you lay. “Dustin, go help your sister!”

Dustin looks up and finally notices your injury and almost faints at the sight. In a daze, he runs over to you and kneels down, terrified of how much blood there is. “Oh my god.”

“I’m fine,” you wince, trying to clench your teeth and bear through the pain. “Honestly, this is like a paper cut.”

“Y/N–” The sound of glass shattering cuts Dustin off as a Demodog breaks through the window. Everyone screams, and your brother grabs your arms and drags you further towards the back of the bus to avoid any glass getting on you. 

Wearily, you watch as Steve does whatever he can with his bat, and a part of you wants to laugh. He looks like he’s playing the hardest game of wack-a-mole ever. 

Meanwhile, Lucas and Max have joined you and Dustin. When they see you, Lucas lets out a choked scream while Max covers her eyes. 

“Are you okay?” Lucas kneels over you as well, and you find his sincerity endearing. He’s always been the sweetest in the group, the most comforting. 

“Never been better,” you wheeze out. 

Dustin instructs Lucas to stay with you while he tries to radio for help. “Is anyone there? Mike? Will? God? Anyone!”

“God would be pretty nice to have.” You remark, pain making you even more delirious than usual. 

Max looks at Lucas. “She’s losing it.”

“I think I’m doing great, all things considered.”

Dustin continues to scream into his walkie for help while Lucas tries to stop your bleeding. Max is running around, looking for anything to help, and Steve is still stuck at the front of the bus playing wack-a-mole with Demodogs. 

The situation is so fucking grim, and you’ve never wanted to laugh more. 

Then, to make matters even worse, the ceiling of the bus starts to creak. You see the faint outlines of what suspiciously looks like Demodog footprints on the roof. In slow, agonizing footsteps, Dart makes his way over to the emergency exit on top.

He leers over, and Max, who is at the bottom of the ladder, screams. 

Steve shoves the kids back and you try to get up, but Lucas pushes you down and shakes his head at you. 

“You want some? Come get this!” Steve places himself between Dart and you and the kids, screaming at the thing and waving his bat around, and you’ve never been more attracted to him.

Dart lets out a blood curdling screech, his mouth full of rows of razor sharp teeth that killed your cat just the other day, and you cling onto Lucas’ hand. Another screech, and just before Dart strikes at Steve, it jumps off the bus and runs away. 

Everyone freezes, unsure what to do, as more distant growls and howls can be heard from outside. Steve and the rest stand up, and you notice Lucas holding Max’s hand, and at least something good came out of this hellhole of a day. 

“Any help here?” You finally ask after a minute or so, still lying helplessly on the ground as you bleed.

“Shit!” Steve drops his bat. “Where did it get you, where’s the bleeding? Dustin, did we pack any bandages, or–or an EMT stretcher or–”

“Steve,” you grab his hand, urging him to calm down. “It scratched the fuck out of my ribcage, but I’m not dying. I promise.”

“You’re not?” Dustin asks, tears in his eyes. 

“I’m not. I just…” you shift, wincing at the pain. “I just really need a bandage and I’ll be good as new.”

Steve swallows, a frenzied look in his eyes, and nods. Without thinking, he tears a piece of your bloodied cardigan off and gently lifts your body up so that he can wrap the shred of cloth around you. He weaves it tight, his movements slow and delicate, his eyes never leave yours. 

You can feel his hands shaking as he tends to your wound and ties the cloth with a knot. When he’s done, even though you’re aware of the kids’ eyes on you two, you bring his hands to your lips and kiss them. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” He whispers, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. Dustin coughs, which seems to make Steve remember where he is, and he clears his throat. “Right, well. Try not to lose any more blood, yeah?”

“I’ll try,” 

Steve nods and stands back up, knowing Dustin and Lucas will want a moment with you, and makes his way back outside. He knows that they’re all still in danger, even if for some reason the Demdogs seem to have left. 

Once Steve is gone, Dustin and Lucas help you stand, and as soon as you’re up, both boys try their best to give you a hug without hurting you. 

“Don’t do that ever again,” Dustin sniffs, squeezing your uninjured side tightly.

“What he said,” Lucas sniffs as well, though he tries to hide his tears from you. 

You laugh, your own tears evident as you hold the boys tight. “I promise.” 

“You saved Steve,” Max notes, though her tone is neutral, you can see she’s impressed.

“I had to even out a debt.” 

“Guys,” Steve calls from outside. “The coast is clear.”

Slowly, you and the kids make your way out of the bus. It takes some help from both Dustin and Lucas, but eventually you’re able to walk on your own, holding your side, and walk down the steps. 

“You okay?” Steve is by your side as soon as you’ve stepped down, holding you so that he’s not touching your cut. You’re thankful for his support, the pain still making you feel woozy. 

“We’ll talk later,” you motion towards the kids, not wanting to worry them any further. 

He nods, although he hates that you feel like you can’t focus on your own safety. 

“What happened?” Lucas asks the group. 

“I don’t know.” Max looks around, and you think she’s finally starting to understand what she’s gotten herself into. 

Dustin points to you and Steve. “Maybe they scared ‘em off?”

“No,” Steve shakes his head. It couldn’t have been that easy. “No way.”

“They’re going somewhere.” You finish for him, confirming your worst fears. Suddenly, more pain shoots through you and you wince again, squeezing your eyes shut. 

Steve bends his head down, guiding you a bit away from the kids so that they won’t hear. “Hey, we don’t have to follow them. We can go home, you know.”

“We can’t.” You clench your jaw as pain rings throughout your body. The goddamn Demodog got you good. “We have to follow. It’s all connected, Will and his episodes, Nancy and Jonathan with the detective, and I’ll be damned if I back down now.”

“So we follow?” Steve asks, trusting whatever call you make.

You nod, knowing you have to do this. While you guys are safe for now, you know that everyone else has to be in danger; you have to protect them. “Unfortunately.” 

-

⌑ series masterlist

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⌑  taglist: @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau @myeclispedsun @innercreationflower @juhdoche @frostandflamesfanfic @goosy-goose @quinnsadilla @munsons-queen @stefansring @rice-elephant @bex22109 @bitchkeery @bex22109 @officerrrfriendly @kazunish @idkitsem @emilieluckwood @ryoujoking @criesinlies @tagakalat @dcnerd98 @sucker-4-angst @kitdjarin1 @onecojg @innazra @areiofhope @spaghetittied @cultish-corner @g8sstuff @videogamesandpoorlifechoices

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wtlws #m's writing #this chapter almost killed me #but bug and steve FINALLY TALKED !!!! #also ilu lucas ur my baby

[the-oblivious-writer]

Pretty Girl |2|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter Two: Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse!

Summary: Tara and you decide to do movie night at her place. Joking around with each other quickly turns into arguing

Warning(s): Mentions of drinking, Swearing, Clueless!R, Jealous!Tara

Notes: Part two of this. Actually thinking of turning this into either a series or mini series. I re-wrote this a couple times, hope you enjoy. Part three won't come as soon as this one but it will come at some point

Previous part|Next Part

A week has passed since you decided to be bold. Well..bold is a bit of a stretch. After you ran you stumbled a few times and almost tripped face first down the stairs. You’re fine.

You’re at a local pizza shop, waiting in line to order. You and Tara decided to do another movie night at her place this time. Sam’ll be at her therapy session so it’s the perfect time for you to come over and hang out. As far as you know it’s just going to be the two of you.

Like it’s always been..so why were you catching yourself focusing on that part? 

BzzBzz

—-

You finished ordering the food when your phone buzzed. You take it out of your pocket to see messages from Tara.

                                                 

  Tara 💜

Hey, we’re still on for later right?

noooo need to worry about the

big and scary Sam Carpenter

Ha. Ha. you’re hilarious 

yeah we’re still on

is it just gonna be us?

As far as I know

why? scared this is secretly just my 

plan to seduce and kill you?

and who exactly revealed my diabolical 

plan to you??

I'm just that good

but don’t say that

shit around Sam lmao 

wouldn’t dream of it, darling

Food’s ready so imma get going

but I’ll see you in a bit 

Looking forward to it<3

—

You smile and put your phone back in your pocket, after you grab the food you make your way to your car and wait a bit before leaving.

As you raise your fist up to the door to knock, it opens and you're met with Tara’s lit up face.

“Did you even check who it was, what if I was a deranged sociopath?” You jokingly ask, slightly raising your eyebrows. 

“Don’t worry, I knew it was you” Tara replied, with a smirk. You tilted your head.

“Were you tracking me, Carpenter?” You chuckled a bit. She only smirked while she helped you bring in the food.

You shook your head at her and mumbled,“Of course..” Tara couldn’t help but smile in response.

“Since when is it a crime to make sure you didn’t get kidnapped or something on the way here?” She defends, walking to the kitchen to grab utensils and a couple of cups. You playfully rolled your eyes at her comment.

“Well, I’m not kidnapped. And I’m here. So movie night can commence. I was thinking we can start with Beetlejuice” You suggest as you start to lay out the food.

“Sounds like the perfect plan to me,” She says genuinely, coming back from the kitchen.

—

The credits roll, Tara and you both lay on the coach with her head on your chest and your arm slung over her. You both were comfortable, neither of you wanted to move. But the remote was on the other side of the coffee table. Damn it.

You shuffle over to it, causing Tara to whine a little. This causes you to smile a bit at her pouting. “Only a second, not even.” You state, getting up to reach for the remote. You eventually go back to the couch and she immediately curls up next to you again. 

“You’re such a baby sometimes” You tease, putting your arm back around her. She sends you a glare but it doesn’t make you back down from your words.

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am. not.”

“Are. Too.”

“You’re beyond annoying sometimes, Y/N Y/L/N” She huffed, crossing her arms but still curled up next to you.

“Aww, you’re just a bit drunk so I won’t take that to heart” You continued to tease. Tara rolled her eyes but tried to bite back a smile. 

“You do know you’re a dork though, right?” Tara asks, smirking while looking up at you. She figured she’d cut in on the teasing.

“Wait- you think I’m a dork, Carpenter? I’m astonished” You say a bit dramatically but jokingly, raising your eyebrows slightly.

“A huge one to be honest with you” She responds as her grip on you tightens gently. You’re too clueless to notice how she snuggled up closer to you. 

“Well it takes one to know one, doesn’t it?” Tara gently shoves your side as you only smile in response. “Not as big of one as you, that’s for sure.”

“But it’s safe to say you still like this dork, at least you like me enough to stalk me-” 

“-Is this still about me tracking you? Should’ve known you were gonna have a field day with that. At least it wasn’t some random doing it like that chick who’s always staring at you in our film class” Tara remarked with a slight scowl.

“Who?"

"Think her name's Isabella or something" Tara answered, with disinterest.

"Oh, I helped her with an assignment once. What’s wrong with her though? She’s cute” You respond, unaware of why she brought her up.

“Y/N, she stares at you like all the time. It’s fucking weird” Tara held a bitterness in her tone that you caught.

“Is it? I don’t know, maybe I’d want to give her my number-” Did you actually? Not really. But you wanted to test the waters. See why Tara seemed so annoyed just because a girl was staring at you. 

“-To some random girl you don’t even know? That’s what it sounds like. And it sounds fucking ridiculous” You were so unsure as to why she was being so bitter about this topic. Weren’t you two just joking a minute ago?

“Why are you being so defensive about this, Carpenter?” You ask, wanting an answer. But she doesn’t give you one. 

“I’m not being defensive Y/N” Tara was now fully off of you and the volume of her voice rose. “You always go for the first person who gives you attention-”

“That’s not true” Your patience was starting to grow slim as you tried to keep calm.

“Yes it is! It’s like every week it’s a new person”

“Why the hell do you care so much about who I go out with?” You asked, wanting to know what her excuse was for lashing out so suddenly.

Tara sighed in frustration,“It’s just that-” before she could finish her sentence the door starts to unlock and Sam enters.

Sam looked and saw Y/N which caused her to go into “Scolding Mode” but she stopped herself before she said anything when she saw your annoyed faces. You both seemed annoyed- no, you’re pissed at each other. 

“The hell happened with you two?” Sam asked, a bit softer than how her usual tone was around you. 

The older Carpenter was only met with silence as you started gathering your things. “What do you think you’re doing?” Tara asked with sternness in her voice.

“Leaving. I need to cool down for the night but when you wanna talk like damn adults you know where to find me” You retorted before leaving, slamming the door shut.

Sam looked over to Tara, still confused about what had happened.

"Shit" was all Tara could say, she knew she messed up. But she refused to admit to herself the reason she lashed out.

Sam wasn't dumb, she knew her sister. You weren't the type of friends to be this pissed at each other over nonsense.

"You wanna talk about it?" Sam walked over to Tara and sat down beside her on the couch. The spot was still warm from when you were sitting there.

"Not in the slightest" was all Tara responded with before going to her room and shutting the door. She thought about the conversation over and over again. But not once did she consider being the first to contact you.

Tara was too stubborn for that, but so were you.

-----

#jenna ortega #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #scream

[depressopax]

Dating Berlin headcanons

Fandom - La casa de papel/Money Heist

NSFW version

SFW version can be found here

Pairing: Andrés de Fonollosa x gender neutral reader Genre: Smut, headcanons Warning(s): Sexual content. Semi-public, oral, cuss words, degradation, penetration Words: 1.2K Summary: Dating Berlin/Andrés would include…  English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! AO3 link soon

Andrés is a switch… You can’t change my mind

He loves being on top of you, making you beg for him and his cock

…But he also loves being under you, letting you have your way with him while he submits to all of your wishes.

It totally depends on what you like in bed

And what mood he’s in. 

He has much stamina and a high sex drive, but sometimes he just likes being lazy, letting you take control while he lays down.

Basically a bit of a “pillow princess” lmao

When he’s being submissive, you’re all his.

He appreciates you being loving, of course

But he also gets turned on by you being rough, with degradation/insults and moving in a fast pace

Fuck it, he gets turned on by you choking him and “light” slaps on his face.

As long as you don’t leave big marks on his skin, he doesn’t mind. 

When he’s in control, he has two moods: - Passionate and slow - Fast and rough - No in between, usually.

He loves seeing you all helpless underneath him, making you a moaning, whimpering mess with his hard thrusts and fast pace

Just slutting you tf out

Heads up - if you ask him to be rough, homeboy will NOT hold back.

Seriously, when he says: “I’ll fuck you so you can’t walk straight” He means it. 

But of course he also loves to show his love to you with slow, passionate love-making sessions, so he calls them. 

Long strokes, lots of praise and kisses

Sex with Andrés means a lot of foreplay and some damn good aftercare.

He likes to really prepare you before penetrating you.

…Which you probably need. He is bigger than other men.

Which he brags about. ;)

He could (and probably will) tease you for hours.

Foreplay with him is usually cheesy. 

He lights candles, gives you massages, kisses you and rubs you in oils 

He knows what he does with both his hands/fingers and mouth 👀

He takes lot of time to make sure you’re ready

He wants you to beg for his cock before he gives it to you.

He uses condoms, but only if you ask him too.

Otherwise, he probably “forgets”

But sometimes he simply skips the foreplay and goes straight to action.

Usually this is when he’s frustrated, angry or really excited to see you (after being away from you etc)

Where he takes you doesn’t matter

He’ll bend you over anything, at any time, thrusting his cock into you whilst whispering praise

Or while ranting about why he’s in a bad mood - using sex as “therapy”.

When he’s in the mood, he’s a needy/clingy bitch

Sorry not sorry lol

Kissing your neck, playfully spanking your ass… You name it.

Doesn’t matter if you’re around people, he will not hesitate to tell you just how horny he is.

He doesn’t hide his boner from you, either.

Stands behind you, his clothed erection against your ass

You think he’s being annoying? “Do something about it” He’ll murmur with a big ass grin

Won’t stop until he gets to fuck you

OR until YOU fuck him.

He likes riling you up, getting you a bit mad only so you’ll be aggressive with him in bed.

During sex, he is either very serious, but can also crack a joke or two.

He tries to be “funny” especially if you are nervous during sex etc.

Your comfort is his top priority.

Lot of reassurance and questions “You ok?” “Does that feel good, mi amor?” “We’ll stop if you want to.”

He also praises you a lot “Fuck… Taking my cock so well.” “You’re so beautiful. So damn perfect”

When it comes to oral, Andrés doesn’t really have a preference either.

Like I said, this man is a switch.

It’s pretty easy to make him submit to you

Definitely will get on his knees if you ask him too - ready to please your needs

He likes squeezing your thighs, slapping your ass or stroking your stomach and chest when his lips/tongue works down there.

When he gives you oral, he’s very passionate and teasing

But if he’s really turned on tho - he’s messy. 

Sloppy oral sex where he uses a bit too much tongue- (I’m sorry 😭)

He could - probably would too - spend hours between your legs, tasting you

…Talks a bit too much “I could spend hours between your legs” “You taste so sweet, mi amor.” “That’s it… Lay back down and let me take care of you.”

Hot, but sometimes annoying lmao

When he’s the one receiving it? Lord have mercy-

Berlin tries to be nice and wants you to feel comfortable.

But how can he not push your head a bit?

If he feels mean, he pushes his hips up, making you gag on his cock.

He likes hearing you choke on him, and the tears in your eyes is a turn-on.

He likes finishing down your throat, holding your head still and basically fuck your face

But if YOU take charge - he’ll lay back down and let you control everything

Just tell him to “Be still”/”Don’t fucking move” and he’ll obey like a good boy <3

This is also one of the times when he’ll whimper and beg for you.

He thinks you’re so damn good at blowjobs, and legit begs for them all the time.

He’s extra sensitive when your mouth is around his member, and making him whimper and moan is easy peasy. 

He’s very rewarding after you give him heads, too.

Andrés is a bit of a kinky mf.

He def has some kind of daddy kink, wanting you to call him “daddy” in bed.

Honestly? He wouldn’t mind calling you mommy/daddy in bed too (if you’re into that lmao) - or he will do so just to tease you

He’s into light BDSM, and owns some nice pairs of blindfolds, ropes/handcuffs, a gag and some whips- 

The scene where he was tied up? Homeboy enjoyed that a bit too much Iykwim ;)

Sorry, but Andrés is definitely into cockwarming 👀

After finishing, he usually doesn’t pull out but instead keeps his softening member inside of you.

If you are into that too, he suggests for you to cockwarm him during nights.

He just loves being inside of you

When it comes to aftercare, he loves it.

Running you a hot bath, giving massages etc.

He is not the guy that asks for aftercare from you, but he does appreciate you taking care of him after you’ve topped him.

He likes to cuddle you 

Also likes having late night conversations with you, talking about dreams and the future, or just random bullshit.

He is very affectionate afterwards.

He loves and cherishes you and always tries showing it to you.

But after sex he is extra loving, which you can tell by the way he looks into your eyes

Or his smile.

To summarize… This man appreciates you no matter what and doesn’t care if he’s over or under you. He is a very passionate man and loves sex with you.

Did I just spend like 2h straight on writing a very detailed Berlin smut? Yep. No regrets 😭

#la casa de papel #money heist #berlin #x reader #berlin money heist #writing #berlin netflix #berlin lcdp #berlin x reader #berlin smut #berlin scenarios #andres de fonollosa #andrés de fonollosa #pedro alonso #lcdp #smut #fanfiction writer #smut headcanons #smut alphabet #berlin x gn!reader #la casa de papel smut #la casa de papel x reader #la casa de papel x gn!reader #scenarios #headcanons #drabble #fluff #imagine #x gn y/n #x gn reader

[neochan]

PAIRING | haechan x reader

SYNOPSIS | you've had your eye on haechan for a while. who knew a costume frat party would be the time you got to have him.

WC | 2.8k

WARNINGS | alcohol, bunny pet name, panty biting, oral fem receiving, slight nipple play, choking, he spanks reader one time, big dick!haechan, reader calls him daddy once, breeding kink (no mention of pregnancy or kids), acts like a typical dude at the end lmao

A.N | happy hyuck day !

“I won’t bite. Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

A deep voice tickles your ear, making you whip your head around. Haechan stands tall, eyes glinting with mischief; his plastic glow-in-the-dark fangs are bared to you in a wide smile. His hands are occupied with two drinks, one which is slightly extended to you.

“Ha Ha.” you say dryly, and snatch the plastic solo cup out of his hand.

The last party of the school year and here you were listening to pathetic jokes from a poorly costumed vampire. You couldn't brag about yours though, the play boy bunny ears were constantly sliding off your head, and the faux tail kept getting pulled by obnoxious frat boys.

Looking around you take it all in. Last party of the semester ... last party with him.

Lee Donghyuck, the boy you can't seem to get out of your head even though he was oblivious to it all. He stood in front of you, handsomer than you've ever seen. Clad in a white button up spotted with fake blood and a black cape tied around his throat by a matching ribbon, all you wanted to do was rip those clothes off of him, but you couldn't. It was out of the question - especially here.

The frat house wasn't exactly the best place for hooking up. Downstairs was cluttered with people and alcohol; basically one big open room, and upstairs was where coke heads took their turns bumping lines. The bathrooms were absolutely nasty and usually covered in piss and vomit by the time you actually wanted to fuck someone.

Who were you kidding? You'd never get the chance to fuck Haechan so there was no use worrying about where the best place was.

You take a sip of your drink, cringing at the bitter burn that slides down your throat, "Is this just straight Titos?" you splutter.

He shrugs nonchalantly, nodding towards the kitchen, "They were all out of mixers."

"Not surprised" You murmur, throwing your head back and drinking the rest in one swallow. Usually the alcohol was gone by now anyways, it was a surprise he came back with Titos.

Haechan's eyes watch you admiringly, twinkling when you spill some of the alcohol down your chin.

"You know," he starts, "This party is kind of lame." He fiddles with the tied bow of his cape for a second before continuing, "I was wondering if you just want to come back to my place and chill?"

Your eyebrows shoot up on their own accord. Was the boy you've had a crush on the last four years asking you to go back to his place?"

"How sober are you?" you question.

"Stone cold."

"Prove it."

"Come back to my place and I'll show you how sober I am."

His words shock you, heat creeping into your cheeks and flushing through your entire body. You can feel your knees go weak.

"I mean, if you want to, that is." his smile stretches from ear to ear, the fangs glowing a bright green.

"Are you going to fuck me?" you ask coyly. It's satisfying to see the way his smile drops and his cheeks grow red, but the next words out of his mouth aren't shy at all.

"Oh little bunny... I'm gonna absolutely ruin you."

☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾

Your back hits the wall alarmingly hard, but you don't even notice. All you can focus on right now is Haechans soft lips moving against your own at a pace way too fervent for the amount of alcohol coursing through your blood. The lack of oxygen leaves you dizzy, fingertips running over his shoulders, trying to steady yourself. His own graze over the supple flesh of your thighs left exposed by your costume.

The bunny ears and fangs are gone now, leaving you both to meld into each other. His lips move from yours to travel down your throat which finally allows you to take a deep breath.

"Fuck Haechan." you whisper, your hands coming up to pull at the hair tickling the nape of his neck. It sends goosebumps down his spine but he doesn't tell you, just keeps giving you wet kisses against your throat and collarbone. By the end of the night he wants you to be painted in bruises.

"You like my tongue?" he coos, darting it out to lick a wet stripe from the base of your neck to your ear lobe, nibbling it just a bit to make you shudder. He ruts against you, and you gasp. You can feel every inch of him through the thin material of his pants - and he's big. You groan and pull him close, capturing his lips in another kiss. He tasted like you always dreamed of - like a cherry blow pop. He did have a thing for those after all.

He pulls away, leaning his forehead against your own, "How about I show you what my tongue can really do?" his trademark grin spreads across his face, almost daring you to accept his offer.

"N- No, I need you in me." You whimper.

"Little bunny wants my cock, hm?"

All of a sudden you feel the floor fall out beneath you, and for a second you think you've passed out because of your alcohol consumption, but all is right when you realize that Haechan has picked you up. You wrap your legs around his waist and throw your arms around his neck squealing at the sensation of being carried.

It's just a few steps to the bed and in no time he's laying you down gently, body caging you against his soft sheets.

"You shouldn't have worn lingerie to the party." He growls, eyes drinking in the sight of your body for the thousandth time tonight, "Other guys shouldn't see you like this."

You roll your eyes, "It was a dress up party, what else was I supposed to wear?"

"A potato sack?" he offers.

"You wouldn't have wanted to fuck me if I wore that."

He's directly overtop of you now, the cross chain around his throat swinging in your face, accidentally brushing the tip of your nose. "I've wanted to fuck you since the moment we met. A potato sack is nothing."

"Then stop talking about it and do it." You groan.

You don't need to ask him twice because as soon as the last word is out of your mouth he's quickly unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it across the room. His cape and pants follow suit and soon he's overtop of you in only boxers. They hid nothing to the imagination, the outline of his cock painfully obvious.

"I think it's your turn bunny."

When you go to undo your bra he stops you, "Let me do it." With ease Haechan undoes your bra and soon your upper body is bare to him, "You're so fucking hot." He groans, dipping his heads down to take one of your perky nipples in his mouth.

The feeling of his hot tongue against your sensitive bud is enough to make you arch up against him, and again, you can feel every inch of him. The thought of how big he is makes your thighs clench together, heat pooling in your panties.

His tongue roves across your skin, sucking harshly. At one point he rolls your nipple between his teeth and it's like nothing you've ever felt.

"Haechan please!" you whine, lifting you hips so maybe he'll get the hint that you want him in you now.

He chuckles, lips skimming down your stomach until they hover right above the waistband of your panties. He looks at you through his dark eyelashes, honey brown eyes glinting with mischief.

"Don't worry bunny, I'm just as impatient, trust me." and with that he sinks his canines into your waistband and drags your panties down. Its unbearably hot, the sight of Haechan holding your panties in his mouth, but as you're whining and moving your legs restlessly, he spits them onto the floor and shoves your thighs apart.

"Just one taste, okay?"

You furiously nod your head and he wastes no time attaching his lips to your core to suckle on your clit.

White hot pleasure shoots through you, "Oh fuck!"

His tongue moves against you with grace, swirling patterns against your swollen clit. Two of his fingers disappear between your legs, easily sliding into you with how wet you were. The stretch of his fingers mixed with his tongue is enough to send you over the edge but you hold back.

"D- Don't wanna cum on your fingers." you whimper, eyes fluttering shut.

He pulls away from you completely, letting you gather your thoughts, "Cum on my cock then." He throws a wink at you before ridding himself of his boxers, and when you catch sight of him you gasp.

Never in all your years of knowing him did you think he was going to be this big. His cock stands tall against his abdomen, his pretty pink tip leaking precum.

He must have seen your eyes widen because he chuckles, "Understand why I wanted to eat you out a little first?"

Dumbly you nod your head, "I want you to fuck me."

"Bunny, you've said that already."

The muscles in his stomach contract when he palms his hard on, slowly stroking himself. Air hisses between his teeth when he touches his tip, eyes fluttering closed with the sensation.

You pout, throwing your fists against the comforter, "Then why're you taking your time!!"

Leaning overtop of you, your eyes following his every move, he lines himself up you’re your entrance, teasing you a bit before gently pushing into you, "Been thinking about this for a while, just wanted to do it right." He grits his teeth, the overwhelming urge to just completely bottom out and fuck into you almost overtaking the rational side of his brain.

The fact that he had been thinking about this almost as much as you sends a tingle through your body. It was nice to know the attraction was mutual and not just a one night stand the last night you were supposed to see each other.

You inhale sharply, the sensation of his thick cock stretching you out making you lose touch with reality. You fumble to grip onto something and end up using his shoulders as a grounding spot. Your nails dig into his honey golden skin, surely leaving red crescents for him to later discover.

He pushes into you slowly, inch by inch, until he’s completely buried in your cunt. You were so fucking wet, Haechan didn’t know how long he was going to be able to play nice for.

"You don't have to be gentle. I won't break.” You whisper.

Guess he didn’t have to play long.

“I don’t plan on being gentle.” He grunts, pulling out of you completely just to slam back into you, a piercing moan falling from your lips, “I said I was gonna ruin you, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing .”

He starts thrusting into you fast, his hips slamming into yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin permeating the otherwise still air. The chain around his throat keeps hitting your nose and at one point he grabs it and throws it over his shoulder. He can’t be bothered with little shit like that when he has such a pretty fucking girl underneath him.

His hands are braced on either side of your face, fingers twisting the fabric of the sheets, bunching it up until he’s clenching it in his fist. You feel so goddamn good, so tight, so wet … for him.

“Haechan! Fuck, you’re so big.” Sobs wrack your chest, eyes going crossed as he pounds into you, one hand wrapping itself around your throat. He squeezes a little and takes satisfaction in the way your eyelids flutter.

He shushes you, “I know bunny, I know. Just take it, I know you can.” He dips down to kiss you, his lips perfectly aligning with yours, “You’re doing so well. Being such a good girl for me.” He mumbles against you.

You feel the band in your stomach start to tighten, and between that and Haechans words, you put your hand on his stomach trying to get him to slow his movements.

He glances down, “Move your hand.”

“No, It’s too much.” You squeak out, but he doesn’t care.

“I said move your fucking hand.” With each word he thrusts all the way into you, brushing your g-spot every time.

You don’t listen to him, instead pushing against his abdomen even harder. He retaliates by closing his fist a little tighter, cutting off even more oxygen. The lack sends you into a head high, eyes crossing again, but you refuse to give in.

A dry laugh leaves his lips, “Fine.” He pulls out of you completely and taps your hip, “Flip over.”

Completely struck by how hot he was commanding you, you comply and flip over, face down ass up. He pushes back into you without warning, forcing your body to shoot forward. “Give me your hands.” He groans, reaching for your wrists. When they’re securely in his hand, he uses the leverage to fuck into you deeper.

“Fuck!” you cry.

“Take it little bunny.” He grunts, letting go of your wrists and pushing your face into his pillows instead. His scent fills your nostrils – cherry blow pops and some kind of cologne. Feeling his cock filling you up mixed with the intense smell of him sends you into another head high.

Your walls clench around him every time he thrusts into you and it almost makes him lose his mind, but there was something he wanted to do first. He stills his movements inside of you, leaving you panting.

“Why’d you stop?” you moan, but you’re sure the pillow muffled you too much for him to make out what you said so you start moving on your own accord. He lets go of your head and throws his arms up behind his own, admiring the way you back up against him.

"Yeah, that's right, throw that ass back little bunny."

The sight is almost enough to make him cum, but he holds back, gazing at the way your pussy swallows him.

You were growing impatient. This wasn’t filling your needs like before, “Haechan!!” you whine.

“Yeah, yeah.” He spits, grabbing a handful of your ass and fucking into you faster now. He couldn’t contain himself; you were just that fucking hot. "Want me to fill you up?” he whispers, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. When he sees you shake your head as much as the pillows can allow, his mind turns crazed, "Gonna watch it drip out of your pretty pussy."

Your arms are thrust out to the side, gripping the sheets between your fingers, “Please Haechan! Want your cum so bad. Need it, please!”

"God you're such a slut." He groans, “Love the way your ass moves when I fuck into you.” One of his hands smacks your ass, a thin pain spreading throughout your bottom.

Your high-pitched moans rang throughout the room, pushing Haechan closer to his orgasm.

“Want you to fill me up daddy!” the name slips from your tongue too easily for Haechan to ignore it… not like he could though, because it tickles the right part of his brain and soon, he’s emptying ropes of cum into you.

The thought of him filling you up and then realizing it was actually happening has you clutching the sheets for dear life as your own orgasm wracks through you. Your walls spasm around him, milking every last drop from him.

For a second nobody moves and all you can hear is Haechan breathing rapidly as he tries to come down from his high. You shift so that your face is turned to the side, and you can finally breathe but you start laughing instead. “This… this is not how I thought the night was gonna go.”

“Me neither.” He agrees.

Slowly, he pulls out of you, making sure not to get any on the sheets below him. You flip over on your back and reach a hand over the edge of the bed fishing for a shirt or something to clean yourself up with. You end up grabbing one of Haechans shirts to which he just shrugs and lets you do your thing.

When you’re done you toss it into the corner of his room, not caring where it lands.

“God that was so good.” He smiles over at you, eyes crinkling in the corner.

You hum in response, eyelids fluttering shut. The alcohol in your system mixed with the workout you just did has left you exhausted and all you were craving was sleep.

“You can stay here tonight. I’m sure we have a lot to talk about in the morning.” He says softly, one arm propped up, watching as you slowly slip away into dreamland, the promise of tomorrow with the boy you’ve liked for the past four years sure to bring you happy dreams.

.

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A.N | happy haechan day!!!! i wanted to give you guys something a little special bc of the celebration! i heard he got covid though so i hope he recovers fast </3 also.. send feedback please.

#haechan smut #nct haechan smut #nct dream smut #nct 00 line smut #00 line smut #haechan x reader #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #lee donghyuck smut #hyuck smut #nct hyuck smut

[niki-phoria]

Hello there! If its okay can you do gn neutral reader x Chishiya,so the scenario is Chishiya seeing his campus crush on borderland and they are the new excutive member who is sarcastic, kind but mean as a joke and pretty intelligent and THEY ARE REALLY REALLY ATTRACTIVE.I hope it's not much if you do it, it will be a another motivation for me to shift tysm!

xiao's love of doctor chishiya gifs returns

pairing: chishiya x gn!beach executive!reader (they/them pronouns) genre: fluff, comfort (??) word count: 1.7k

warnings: kinda ooc chishiya, reader gets shot with an arrow (non descriptive), mentions of blood, implication of stitches, the person helping reader is supposed to be tatta but i couldn't figure out to bring it up (my boy deserves better), niragi, poor depiction of the beach executive scene, niragi, i am a niragi hater and a dori lover until the day i die, tumblr glitched and the original post i wrote for this didn't save and it scared the shit out of me lmao

a/n: thank you for requesting !! i couldn't really figure out how to add reader being chishiya's campus crush so it just starts with them knowing each other lmao. thank you for being so descriptive with reader's personality that's super helpful i hope you like it :))

additional note: i'm almost at 500 followers (HUGE thank you btw that's crazy) and i was thinking of doing an event thing ?? but i'm not sure if anyone would be interested so lmk ig lmao

requests are open !! read my rules first

“y/n?” you perk up at the familiar voice, quick to leave your conversation with ann and mira. 

“chishiya!” he stands with his hands stuffed into the pockets of a white jacket. he’s wearing a pair of swim trunks and sandals. you can barely see his wristband from where the sleeve of his jacket ends. “i can never get rid of you, can i?” you tease.

“i suppose not.” chishiya leans back against the wall, a little uncomfortable at the stares of the other beach members in the room. 

sensing his discomfort, you glance over your shoulder at them. “ah, i should give you a tour. have you picked a room yet?” 

“i was hoping you could help with that.” 

you tug chishiya along with you, guiding him through the different areas of the beach. 

your shoulders brush against each other as you sit by the pool, dunking your legs in the cold water. “how long have you been here?” you ask. 

“just a few days,” chishiya replies. “i’m still not entirely sure what’s going on.” 

you glance behind you over your shoulder, dropping your voice to a whisper. “you know about the visas and the cards?” he nods, subtly leaning in a little closer. “hatter thinks we’ll be able to send someone back to the normal world once we collect all of the cards.”

“you don’t think so?” 

you sigh. “i’m not sure. we only have a few cards right now, but something tells me it won’t be that easy.” despite the pool being completely empty, you lean in even closer to chishiya to whisper in his ear. “i don’t think we can trust the people here.” chishiya shivers. your breath is warm against his neck. he can feel his ears burn slightly when you pull away. 

an unfamiliar feeling settles itself in his stomach. fear? dread? anxiety? you kick small ripplies into the water, slowly reaching over to hold his hand. despite all of the unknowns he’s sure you’ll be forced to confront, chishiya finds comfort in the feeling of your hand in his. 

chishiya paces along the outside of the beach, continuously looking out at the horizon. “waiting for someone?” kuina asks, leaning back against the wall of the hotel. chishiya sighs, knowing her question is rhetorical. 

“y/n’s not back yet.” 

kuina pushes off of the wall, suddenly serious. “they’re not?” he shakes his head, looking out into the darkness again. “well, do you know who they were with during their last game? maybe someone knows something.” 

“i haven’t seen anyone since i came back.” 

“what about the other executives? have you told them?” chishiya doesn’t answer. “there has to be something we can do, right? what about-” 

“hey!” in the distance they can barely see a man struggling to pull someone towards the beach. “help me! i need help!” 

kuina is quick to react, rushing over to the man. chishiya watches her as she runs to meet him, gasping. “chishiya!” she yells. “it’s y/n!” 

he can almost feel the blood in his body go cold. kuina shoves herself underneath your other arm, helping the man pull you to the beach. it feels like the world has stopped - everything frozen at this moment in time. 

after what feels like forever chishiya manages to will his body to move, rushing to you. blood coats your side and jacket, seeping through your shirt. he presses a hand against your wound, supporting your weight. 

“what happened?” he hopes his voice isn’t shaking. 

“they had crossbows,” the man pants. “i had to pull it out but i think it went straight through. i didn’t know what else to do.” 

“chishiya,” you whimper, clutching his body. 

“it’s okay,” he whispers. “it’s gonna be okay.” 

you grunt as he wraps an arm around your waist, lifting your body into his arms. you cling to his body, letting him carry you into the beach’s basement. he gently sets you on a metal table before frantically searching through the room for medical supplies. kuina leans over you, pressing a towel against your side. you wince at the pressure, tears stinging your eyes. 

“sorry,” she whispers. “i’m sorry.” 

chishiya takes over for her soon after, moving the towel to the side. “this is gonna hurt,” he warns. you grab his hand, squeezing it. 

“i trust you.” 

the pain is sharp and sudden. it feels like someone is pressing on your chest, preventing any air from entering your lungs. the ceiling above you blurs into a mix of blue lighting and gray metal before it all goes black and the world disappears. 

the pain has subsided greatly when you wake up. your vision is blurry as you blink a few times, trying to clear your vision. sunlight shines through open curtains, illuminating the hotel room you lay in. it’s clean - cleaner than your room. the sheets feel nice against your skin. 

you grunt, forcing yourself to sit up. your body aches as you lean back against the headboard. the door opens quietly before it closes. a man sighs before he enters. “chishiya?” your voice is raspy when you try to speak. your throat stings. 

“y/n,” chishiya rushes to your side, opening a bottle of water and handing it to you. you gulp it down quickly, desperate for any liquid. “how are you feeling?” 

“sore.” 

chishiya takes the empty bottle, sitting down next to you. he reaches out to grab your hand, running his thumb along your knuckles. his voice is quiet when he speaks again. “you really scared me, you know.” 

“about me dying? come on, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” you squeeze his hand. “chishiya,” you whisper. he looks down at you. “i’m okay. you saved me.” 

“i know, i just…” he sighs, staring back down at your hands. you intertwine your fingers together, a silent way of encouraging him to continue. “i can’t lose you. you were back late, and then when you make it here you were hurt. and then you passed out and…” chishiya takes a deep breath, tension from his shoulders relaxing a little. “i don’t want to see you hurt. i love you.” 

“‘shiya,” you bring a hand up to his face, wiping away a stray tear he hadn’t realized had fallen. you lift his chin, forcing him to look at you. “i know everything will be okay as long as i have you. i love you too.” 

chishiya gives you a small smile, pulling your hand up to press a kiss against your knuckles. “don’t ever do this to me again.” 

you chuckle. “i won’t. i promise.” 

you pull the chair out between chishiya and niragi, taking your seat at the executives table. arisu stands uncomfortably at the other side of the room, watching you. chishiya raises his hand, waving at him. you playfully elbow his side. “he’s nervous, leave him alone.” 

“i’m just waving,” he retorts. 

“you looked just like him when you got here,” you tease. “give him a break.” 

mira, ann, and kuzuryu sit across from you. on your right, next to niragi, aguni sits at the edge, right next to hatter. 

“we are here to discuss the potential promotion of our very own, arisu!” hatter enthusiastically introduces, pointing over at the man. arisu shifts uncomfortably at the attention. 

niragi scoffs. “are we really trusting him to be an executive?” 

“we’re trusting you to be an executive.” niragi glares at you, reaching for his rifle before ann interrupts. 

“he was able to win a seven of hearts. we haven’t seen that card before.” 

“it’s a seven of hearts,” mira exaggerates. “if arisu was able to win the game, then, we should be able to send someone back to the normal world soon.” 

“she’s right,” kuzuryu says, leaning back in his chair. “heart games are the most difficult.” 

“i vote for promoting him.” you say. under the table, chishiya reaches over to grab your hand. “he won a heart game we’ve never seen before. people have been promoted for less.” 

“why don’t we test him? send him into a game with an executive and see how he operates under the pressure.” ann suggests. hatter points at her, tutting. 

“now that’s a good idea. any objections?” after a few seconds of silence, hatter stands. “perfect! this meeting has been concluded.” 

chishiya’s hand remains in yours as you leave the room, slinking through the various corridors of the hotel you’ve found to a private area. “what are you thinking about arisu?” he asks. 

“he won a heart game and you said he was good in tag. he could be a useful ally.” he hums in agreement. 

the fire burns around you as you re-enter the remains of the hotel you used to call your home. a man stands in the center of what used to be the lobby, hands stuffed in his pockets. 

“chishiya?” you call, avoiding the heat as you step closer. he glances over his shoulder at you, picking something up off of the table. you lean over to see what he’s holding. it’s a card. the ten of hearts. 

“you were right, you know,” he says, throwing the card back onto the table. he smiles when you cock your head at him in confusion. “when i first arrived, one of the first things you said to me was that i shouldn’t trust the people here. you were right.” chishiya steps closer, intertwining his hands with yours. “i’m starting to think collecting the cards was pointless after all.” 

the flames around you only grow stronger. “as much as i’d like to bask in your praise, we really need to leave,” you say, reaching over to grab his arm. “let’s go. kuina’s waiting.” he hums, pressing a kiss against your temple as he follows you out.

#chishiya x reader #aib x reader #chishiya x male reader #aib x male reader #aib fluff #chishiya fluff #chishiya imagine #chishiya one shot #chishiya drabble #chishiya scenario #aib imagine #aib one shot #aib drabble #aib scenario #aib chishiya #aib fanfic #aib x you #aib x y/n #chishiya x you #chishiya x y/n #alice in borderland x reader #alice in borderland x you #alice in borderland x male reader #alice in borderland x y/n #alice in borderland chishiya #alice in borderland

[melinoelliones]

Merlin - NSFW Alphabet

I want to do all the girls alphabets so bad omg...... Nerobasta is on my radar but I think I am the only person who likes her LMAO.

THIS IS MY PERSONAL OPINION! We may think think two different things, thats fine but this is MINE! There are x Fem Reader and X GN Reader in here.

Also thank you to who requested this, I needed motivation to choose a girl and you sped up the process LMAO.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Has probably a million different concoctions for you to drink to help you cool down, will run you a bubble bath with homemade salts to soothe your body, then makes sure you’re all comfy in bed. Princess treatment by the queen herself (sign me up).

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Merlin loves her entire body from head to toe.

I want to say she also loves your entire body; your thighs, your waist, your neck, just all of it. I will say maybe thighs and neck top it all, loves to always sit with her hand in between your thighs, or have her head in them. Loves to also leave sweet kisses on the nape of your neck.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Enjoys fucking you then showing you how well you coated the strap, depending on how she feels she’ll either make you suck it off or she will do the honours.

“My my, such a mess you've made” Merlin cooed, pure lust in her eyes as she admired the dripping strap in her hand, “who gets the first taste hmm? You or me?”.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

She has probably watched Meliodas get off just to get off herself.

Has also gotten off to memories of you guys, she just adores you.

Loves to see you beg for more, beg for her touch. So needy.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

As experienced as they come.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

Classic missionary, she loves the intimacy of it and being able to watch your sweet little face curl up and she moves.

Riding for the exact same reasons but because she gets to watch you try to take her all in.

“Look at you going all out to please mommy, go on, keep going, I know I must feel so good”.

69. Loves feeling your whimpers against her desperate clit as she probably overstims you, she knows your body to a T and has defo made you cum a couple times before she even reaches her own high.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Makes flirty jokes throughout.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

She probably changes it up for fun but always VERY well trimmed. She takes pride in it in my eyes.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

So very intimate at all times. She is so alluring and flirtatious, it shows.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

NOT OFTEN! But when she does get off, it's to you or memories of you/both of you.

“Baby, B~Baby please keeping going, I’m so close, so so close, you are doing so g~good”, she mewled, her own fingers curling even deeper inside, the memories of you playing simultaneously as she did. It was almost as if her hand was now yours, bringing her body to the edge.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Merlin would love tears, full on dacryphilia, how could she not? Your face was just too sweet, knowing that she brought those tears to your eyes was nothing short or a dream.

“How can someone look so sweet with tears in their eyes” Merlin questioned, brushing her thumbs across the streams, “Now I want to see more”.

Face riding for sure, both giving and receiving. Probably is caressing your face ever so gently as you tongue fuck her, depending on how close she is, she most definitely is grinding against your tongue for any extra stimulation. Aye, the lady wants what she wants.

“F~Fuck, if you keep going like that mommy won’t be able to hold on much longer” Merlin groaned, flinging her head back, giving you a clearer shot of her needy clit. Her body was moving on its own at this point, all she wanted was to reach her release and you were so close to giving her just that, “You are gonna make mommy cum, oh my God f~fuck baby”.

Aphrodisiacs of any kind, she makes them ALL and you are usually her test subject.

Mommy/Daddy kink, she loves both of the titles equally and will respond to both.

Somnophilia, watching your body toss and turn as she plays with you drives her insane, the small moans and whines only adding to that.

“Your body knows me so well, how cute” she cooed, watching you sleepily move your body towards her, her name slipping through your lips even while sleeping.

Mutual masterbation!! She utilises aldan (her sphere) to project what you're doing and she just watches. She has caught you getting off alone a few times and has gotten off alongside you without even noticing, sometimes she’ll speak through it for you to hear her voice, maybe help guide you when she isn’t around. Similar to phone sex. 

Tying you up! She loves to have full control over your entire body while you just take it.

L = Location (favourite places to do they do)

Having perfect cube and teleportation usually means you guys can do anything, anywhere, at any time. But I'd say the baths at the palace (the one Veronica and Guila use if you watched that) or her bedroom/tower as that's a safe space for you both.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Anything you do, again, she just adores you and anything that you do.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Anything where either of you have been drinking! 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

If it's all she could do for the rest of her life she'd be in heaven. She loves receiving, watching you try so hard to make her feel good, she is always there to praise your efforts.

“Look at how wet you’ve made me, that was all you” she cooed watching you rise from between her legs, a look of pure content on her face and you caught your breath.

But she is one HELL of a giver, she literally knows every trick in the book and every inch of your body. She could have you almost unable to move from how aroused you are in a mere minutes.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

She mixes it up often. One day she is calling you every vulgar name under the sun, the next she's whispering sweet nothing in your ear.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Maybe once a week depending on what's going on, she spends 90% of her time in her tower so there isn’t really need for quickies unless you are on the road, in which case I’ll say several times a week.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Loves to be risky, she has no fear or shame at all.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Could go on all day if she didn’t have work to do.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

She takes pride in her toy collection, she has probably handcrafted like 99% of them. Will use them on you whenever and wherever you want. She doesn't mind toys used on herself, but she always prefers you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Can be quite the tease when she wants to be but it will always end up with you being pleased.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

She herself isn’t too loud, but she loves when you are loud. It lets her know she’s making you feel good.

“Awww don’t cover your face, I can’t hear those sweet moans of yours like that”.

“Louder, daddy can’t hear you”.

“Tell mommy what you want her to do to you, cmon, just a bit louder”.

“Since Meliodas decided to keep everyone up all night with his antics, I think we should give it back, what do you think baby”.

W = Wild card (a random dirty headcanon for the character)

Pegging, she wants to do it to you! She hasn’t yet, but she’s been almost fantasising about it.

Also she may or may not fantasised about being fucked by Meliodas…. She did like him to be fair, a LOT.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Her favourite strap is 7 inches and very textured. Just saying.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Average but she is always down to please you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

She probably does not sleep, she will look after you then sneak off to finish off her work. You can never know everything, so her work never ends. 

#sds #sds smut #sds x reader #sds x reader smut #Seven Deadly Sins #seven deadly sins smut #seven deadly sins x reader #seven deadly sins x reader smut #nanatsu no taizai #nanatsu no taizai x reader #nanatsu no taizai x reader smut #nanatsu no taizai smut #meli noel work's #merlin #merlin smut #merlin sds #merlin sds smut #merlin nanatsu no taizai #merlin nanatsu no taizai smut #merlin seven deadly sins #merlin seven deadly sins smut #meli noel's work

[tickle-bugs]

I just wanted to say regardless of whether you've seen the show that you're my favorite ST writer. I dont know how you capture the characters so well while further developing them perfectly but it's genuinely incredible. I must've read your steddie fics like 97 times just because I adore them <3 If you're still taking prompts, I'd love to maybe see Steve and Eddie! Maybe with "Oh this is too good to pass up" as the dialogue? Either way, you're incredible and I can't wait to read all your other work <3

Okay, wow this is VERY sweet ;w; You are so so kind anon. I think I'm getting better at writing them now after having practiced. Those first fics have a fond place in my heart for being the first ones, but every day I am tempted to rewrite them LMAO

anyways, I'm certainly far from perfect but I'm grateful that you enjoy them!! This warms my heart so much. I really do love writing them and the positive response to those fics made me wanna keep going and improve. Still haven't seen the show yet but honestly I'm chilling in this little niche I've carved for them.

Hopefully this fic makes you happy and pushes me a lil closer to being worthy of the honor of being your fav. Really hope you enjoy--I fuckin love these boys <3

...................

Ahoy, Sailor

You can read this as a season three au or as season four. Either way, Steve and Eddie have a bitchy will they/won’t they rivalry situation going on. Eddie REALLY likes pushing Steve’s buttons. 

It’s not unusual for Eddie to find his way to the Harrington house for some excuse or another, but he’ll admit it’s unusual to be invited. He tends to just appear and haunt Steve unasked. It’s more fun that way. 

Steve had called him, muttering something about how Eddie needed to come pick up his vest because it ‘smelled like a depressed hippie’. Eddie had fired back that Steve’s room couldn’t possibly smell any better without it, and their usual bickering had Eddie leaving fifteen minutes later with a grin on his face.

He loves Steve. Messing with him, that is. So, naturally, when Eddie ascends the stairs and sees Steve dressed like a little schoolboy, he takes a minute to compose his best jokes.

“Ahoy, sailor.” Eddie whistles, leaning in the doorway to Steve’s room. He drinks in the Scoops Ahoy uniform and all it blessedly has to offer. 

“Wh—oh, fuck off. It’s laundry day.” Steve rolls his eyes.

“Aye aye, cap’n.” Eddie salutes. Steve flips him off.

“Cool the attitude, sassy lost child.” Eddie snorts. There’s piles of clothes on every surface in the room, arranged in a way that suggests intention but would baffle even the most equipped psychologist. Eddie wants to ask about the system here, but he knows he’s no better, so he just watches Steve flit around with a little pout on his face. 

“You look like Donald Duck’s worst cousin.” Eddie snickers into his fist.

“You done?” Steve puts his hands on his hips.

“For now.” Eddie shrugs. Steve huffs.

Steve keeps rooting through the piles on the floor--slow enough to be mesmerizing, but fast enough where he’s clearly looking for something specific. Oh, his vest. Laundry. Eddie scans the room until, aha--he spots it hanging over the back of Steve’s desk chair, smooth and loved. Striking, compared to the state of everything else. Eddie smiles before he can catch himself. 

“My vest is over there.” Eddie jerks a thumb towards Steve’s desk. 

“Yeah, I see that.” Steve gives him a perplexed look. He shakes his head and keeps drifting through the clothes. 

“Then what are you looking for?” Eddie ventures, stepping into the room properly. As much as he wants to, he doesn’t shrug his vest on. It feels like a conclusion of business, a visual excuse for Steve to kick him out despite the olive branch he’s inexplicably extended. 

“A shirt. Robin’s got a date to impress.” Steve sorts through a pile. He looks between a yellow sweater and a green one, sighs, and tosses them both aside. 

“By wearing…your clothes?”

“Yes, Munson, keep up.” Steve puts a hand on his hip. “She’s gonna be here eventually, probably freaking out, and I wanna give her two options. Just two. She’s gotta look good, but she’s gotta be comfortable.”

“Right.” Eddie nods slowly, as if this makes sense. 

“Hey, make yourself useful. I’ve got this shirt, uhm, dark blue? With a little stripe? If you find it, let me know.” Steve flaps a hand at him. Eddie knows precisely the shirt--it fits Steve distractingly well. 

“I’ll get right on that, sweetheart.” Eddie flops backwards on the bed. Steve shoots him a withering look. Eddie gives his most charming smile and folds his arms behind his head. 

God, he loves this part of their little dance. The way Steve looks at him, the undeniable fondness buried beneath the exasperation—it’s a thrill. 

Steve tugs at a shirt underneath Eddie’s body, but he can’t get it free. He heaves a belabored sigh. 

“Do you mind?” Steve’s eyebrow twitches. 

“Not at all. I’m enjoying myself immensely.” Eddie smirks. 

“If you stretch out my shirt, I’m gonna push you in the goddamn pool. Get up!” Steve jabs Eddie in the side. Eddie giggles and flinches violently.

Steve Harrington is looking at him as if he’s the best present he’s ever received, and while some deep and unacknowledged part of Eddie does flips at the sight, it’s terrifying. 

“Oh, this is too good to pass up.” Steve crawls onto the bed after him, his devilish grin curling wider by the second. Eddie’s face burns and he scrambles to flee, but Steve’s already on top of him. 

“Don’t you dare, Harring—aaah!”  Eddie’s soul and dignity flee him in a high-pitched shriek. 

“Holy shit. I’m barely touching you.” Steve staccato pokes him everywhere he can reach, quick and light, and Eddie can’t stop the giggles bursting from him in waves. He wants to think of something witty to say, but it tickles, and Steve’s smirking—it’s a lot to ask of man under these conditions.

Steve starts tickling him in earnest, his fingers skittering wherever they can reach. When Steve trips up his ribs, Eddie arches like he’s being hit with a defibrillator. He smushes his face into his hands, hoping maybe he’ll smother himself and they can call this a day, but Steve tuts at him and pulls his hands away from his face. 

“No way you’re this ticklish,” Steve says again—does he really need to rub it in—and gives Eddie’s sides a curious squeeze. Eddie shrieks and flips himself over, attempting to crawl towards freedom. 

“Where’re you going?” Steve drags Eddie back into place by his waist. He makes an incoherent whining noise that breaks off into laughter and goes limp on the bed. He tries to roll back over but Steve is solid on top of him. Being face-down gives him the small mercy of being able to hide his face while he cackles.

God, he didn’t even know that the back of someone’s ribs could be ticklish. Holy hell. 

Eddie grabs at Steve’s knee and releases a desperate jumble of syllables. Steve yelps and falls backwards off the bed.

Eddie peeks at him over the edge of the bed, laughter petering off into gentle embers. Steve stares up at him, wide-eyed. Eddie backtracks, trying to figure out why a simple touch would’ve elicited such a big reac—oh. Oh. 

Steve’s halfway down the stairs before Eddie even realizes he’s gone. 

“Hey! Get back here!” Eddie skids after him two stairs at a time, swiping at the back of Steve’s shirt. 

Eddie tackles Steve over the back of the couch, both of them a tangle of screeching, flailing limbs. Steve’s stronger but Eddie is scrappy, having long since abandoned his self-preservation instincts. Steve tries to roll them over and Eddie goes limp. Steve grunts under the deadweight, and it gives Eddie the two seconds he needs to clamber on top of him properly. 

“Now—“ Eddie finally wrestles Steve down, huffing a lock of hair out of his eyes— “What the everloving fuck was that?”

“Nothing.” Steve’s poker face is good, but Eddie can see right through that easy smile. He walks his fingers across Steve’s stomach. Steve inhales sharply. 

“Didn’t sound like nothing.” Eddie raises his eyebrows innocently. Steve narrows his eyes at him, but his fake smile is very slowly twitching into a real one. 

Spurred on, Eddie kneads into Steve’s stomach, gentle and a little clumsy. Steve trembles under him, wrenching a hand free just to cover his face. Little huffs and snickers wobble out of him. 

“Dishing out what you can’t take? Oh, this is precious.” Eddie snickers. Steve shoves his hand into the side of his face to push him away. Eddie licks it.

Steve screeches, but that breaks the dam. The first beautiful sound from him is a snort. Eddie gasps happily, then laughs right along with Steve. 

It’s not that Steve doesn’t laugh, he does, but it’s often the restrained chuckle that Eddie loves to give every royal NPC in his campaign. Eddie’s never heard anything like this, this bubbly rush littered with voice-cracks and little bouts of nose-scrunched hiccups. He didn’t know Steve was even capable of these kinds of noises.

The stupid little Scoops shirt rides up and Eddie takes advantage of bare skin. Steve squeals and goes boneless on the couch. He hits Eddie with the full brunt of his smile, unfiltered and radiant, and something in Eddie’s chest flutters. 

“EddieEddieEddie--” Steve snorts again, and the speed at which his face turns scarlet suggests embarrassment. Eddie can’t imagine why. 

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” Eddie reaches behind him and finds Steve’s knee, tickling just where the goofy shorts stop, and Steve wails. He curls his head into Eddie’s chest and seems to resign himself to die there. Eddie has absolutely no feelings about how warm Steve feels or the desperate little leg kick he does. 

Steve grabs Eddie’s wrists and he relents, figuring the promise of future mischief is a sufficient tradeoff for a truce. Steve collapses back into the couch cushions with a delirious little giggle, rubbing his hands over his beaming face. Steve peeks at him overtop his hands, then snickers again. 

The longer they sit here, both breathing a little hard, the longer Eddie has to notice the gentle warmth and curve of Steve’s eyes. A hysterical man would call them doe-like. Eddie accepts this new state of being and leans a little closer. His guitar pick necklace dangles over Steve’s chest. Steve’s jaw falls slack, eyes flitting to Eddie’s lips. Eddie’s hair falls in a frizzy curtain around them both. 

Eddie doesn’t see Robin so much as he hears her—the screech of disgust bounces off every wall. He pops his head up and they make direct, unfortunate eye contact. She shoots him an all-knowing look with her beady, accusatory little eyes and he gives her his most threatening zip it gesture. 

Steve decides that that’s the moment to counterattack, sending a cackling Eddie toppling off the cushions and onto the floor. Steve slides down after him, ducking under a flailing arm and scribbling his fingers wherever he can reach. Eddie curls up like a pillbug. He can hear Robin saying something but it's unintelligible over the sound of his own laughter.

“I know, right?” Steve grins back at her, then looks back to Eddie. Softly. 

Steve has the audacity to wink at him. Eddie files that little moment away for Tonight Eddie to scream into a pillow about, and instead focuses on launching a counter-counterattack that’ll save his life. 

#my fics #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #ticklish!steve harrington #ticklish!eddie munson #me answering this ask and sweating: dont write an essay dont write an essay there's already a fic attached to this dont-- #anyways thank you anon ive been sitting on these kind words for a little bit and it really means a lot to me. <3 #kind anons carry this blog on their backs fr #also codependent besties stobin are everything to me. robin steals steves clothes and then he just starts giving them to her #also at the end robin definitely is saying that eddie laughs like a goblin and steves like yeah. he does <3 #continuation of the 'robin has a key to steve's house' saga

[holewithinahole]

The Spirit’s in It | Egon Spengler x nb!reader [2/3]

Summary: “I didn’t know psychology doctors also specialized in particle physics, is all.”

What you meant as a light joke to relax him did quite the opposite. He straightens, righting up his glasses one more pointless time. “I have a degree in nuclear engineering,” he states before walking out, leaving you confused and feeling like you’ve spent the entire time offending him unintentionally.

Warnings: dubious science, non-native writer, non-beta’d

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

And here's part 2! I'll probably post part 3 tomorrow so I can upload everything on Ao3. I realised this work is super underwelming compared to what I've been releasing lately haha But well, if one person like it that's all I'm asking!

I also love write all the different dialogues I have in mind for the Ghostbusters. It's like I can hear the voices of the actors in my head! It's all very amusing.

EDIT: I hate the third part so I'm rewriting it lmao

Fall, 1984

“What are they doing?” You mutter under your breath as you step into the psychology aisle of Columbia University. It’s the most animated you’ve ever witnessed Weaver Hall be.

Clutching your latest research papers, you stride to the paranormal studies labs, almost running into a green-shirted man in the process. You mutter a quick apology without looking back. Inside the lab, a few men are busy getting boxes on trolleys and carrying them out of the room. You clear your throat as you stand close to one of them.

“Excuse me, do you know where Dr. Spengler is?”

The man arches an eyebrow and shrugs. “No idea who that is.”

Putting down a box labeled ‘Electronics’ on his trolley with a loud crashing noise – which makes you wince, he starts making his way out of the room, smacking your flank in the process.

“You do know those items partially belong to the researchers working here,” you argue, clutching your side and standing in front of him. “You can’t just take them without permission.”

“Listen, I’ve been asked to remove this stuff, ok? So move out of the way.”

You swallow back your irritation, ready to conjure up every ounce of antagonism, but you’re halted in your need for confrontation by a giddy tone.

“Ah, Professor.”

You turn back to face an uncharacteristically smirking Dean Yaeger: a self-satisfied smug that would deserve to be wiped right out of his face. It makes you fear the worst.

“I’m sorry to announce to you that Dr. Stanz, Dr. Venkman, and Dr. Spengler have departed our university,” he declares, voice devoid of any empathy.

“Departed?” you ask. “Did they quit?”

“Oh no,” he laughs. “We’ve terminated their contracts. The psychology pole deserves better than three frauds ridiculing our university.”

It is, indeed, the worst that could happen. Baffled, you watch as the dean gives directions to the workers with a large smile. You’ve never wanted to hit someone more.

“Frauds?” you scoff, trailing behind him. “Dr. Stantz has a doctorate in parapsychology, so does Dr. Venkman. Dr. Spengler graduated from this very university and possesses several diplomas notably in nuclear engineering and psychology. What makes you possibly think they don’t deserve their places here?”

Another worker almost bumps into you. You glare at them.

“While I admire your lovely attempt at defending the undefendable, the decision is taken. This room will be emptied and used by actual scientists.”

The dean has started making his way out of the room, radiating self-satisfaction and throwing prideful looks at everything his eyes come across. You run after him, pushed forward by this revolting sight.

“Those files are their own research! You can’t take them away without consulting with them first! Yes, they were working for this university, but it’s still years of their work that you’re just confiscating.”

The smirk he gives you makes you regret your words instantly. “Since you’re so willing to maintain your questionable relationship with the three of them, you won’t see any problem with being entrusted with those files? I’m sure you can return them in person.”

“Questiona–” you stutter, but Dean Yaeger claps his hands obnoxiously.

“It’s settled then.”

Shit.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Accepting to take care of Dr. Venkman, Dr. Stantz, and Dr. Spengler’s stuff had been both your good deed of the month and a middle finger at the face of Dean Yaeger. Stuffing piles of boxes in your tiny car hadn’t been easy. Especially since the dean had decided to dump everything in front of the university, grinning all along, savoring his cruel little prank. It says a lot about the actual interest Columbia University has in the work of its researchers.

There were at least over thirty different boxes, filled to the brim with research papers, littered all around your apartment. Obviously, Yaeger had made sure to take back all equipment – broken or not, leaving you with pounds of paper stored in their cardboard containers.

That is to say, after a month, you're starting to regret it.

The cluster of your home is slowly but surely disrupting your peace of mind. It’s almost as if the air has been saturated by dust and cardboard specks, the lack of luminosity not helping. Browsing through research papers and ordering everything has been fun at first, your curiosity satisfied, but you couldn’t decently keep digging through personal stuff. Therefore, you stopped, and now you loathe the view of these boxes.

The problem is that you have absolutely no idea where the three men went, and even on your deathbed, no one would witness you ask the dean for information. You simply can’t believe they would just switch universities, despite it being the ‘logical’ course of action. Mainly because Yaeger would behave like a goddamn leech and talk shit about them ‘till all universities in the country know about their turbulent history. You hoped for one of them to drop by your department but no one ever showed up.

Opening the door to your apartment and immediately feeling dejected at the view of the stacked boxes, you let out a sigh, getting rid of your work clothes and falling head first on your couch. You grab the TV remote, zapping mindlessly before deciding to let the device run in the background as you stand up to prepare something to eat.

During the small amount of time you’ve spent with the doctors this month, you’ve learned more about spooky theories and proton cages than about their actual life stories. Well, sort of. Dr. Stantz was certainly the most open of them all.

“Have you ever experienced a paranormal experience before?” he had asked, one morning, as he leaned conspiratorially towards you.

“I don’t think so?” you replied.

He had then talked extensively about a plethora of incidents, most notably a sponge migration which he’d assured was clear proof of paranormal activity. You had simply nodded, not wanting to question nor deter his enthusiasm. You quickly noticed – despite Dr. Spengler’s eclectic choices of study which could testify about his interest in science in general, Dr. Stantz remained the most passionate of the two; his obsessions towards specific subjects going further than a simple craving for knowledge on a Sunday afternoon. He kept lending you books on the supernatural which you had to decline after a fifth one joined the pile on your bedside table. It made wonder if the man didn’t own a secret bookshop somewhere. It left you with a sour aftertaste, knowing you had some of his prized possessions in your bedroom but couldn’t return them.

Dr. Venkman was– well… he was something else entirely. If Dr. Stantz was eager to share clever insights, Venkman was eager to share made-up stories. The diplomas on the wall did attest to his title of ‘Doctor’ but he couldn’t be more detached from it. Oh, he was researching psychological phenomena alright, but never knowledge for knowledge’s sake or even out of pure professionalism as you could expect from a researcher. If psychology books were leafed through, it was for manipulation tactics and to weaponize the uses of sugary words. In that, he was talented.

“Is it my time to interview the case subject?”

It was your third time in Weaver Hall. Both Dr. Stantz and Dr. Spengler had looked up from their ‘ghost trap’ schematics as Venkman took place in the chair in front of you.

“You never do interviews,” Dr. Stantz had said, deadpan.

“I feel magnanimous today.”

Venkman was a case study on its own, a study you weren’t willing to commit to. You had trouble understanding his true intentions most of the time. In the end, he remained the most enigmatic of the three, despite a boastful, overly dramatic persona (All the world’s a stage!). In the end, you couldn’t genuinely despise the man when he was driving away nosy students and even nosier teachers with phlegm, or when, during his rare excursions in the lab, he would bring sweet treats and coffee.

As for Dr. Spengler, well… he was brilliant and devoted to his work. Alike Dr. Stantz, although sporadically, he would sometimes get caught in a tirade of explanations and postulates. Every day, you resented the apprehension that staved off your second meeting for he could make your neurons flare and burst into ideas that’d spin in your head fast enough to weave entirely new conceptions. You were somewhat drunk on the feeling, making you distracted which even your colleagues noticed, embarrassingly enough. It all ended up in a self-deprecating mantra that led you away from Weaver Hall and back to the arms of your students and lab partners.

Now, they are gone, and you have no idea how to reach out.

“Are you troubled by strange noises in the middle of the night?”

You know Dr. Spengler has spent his entire life either studying for new degrees or researching. Universities are probably all he has ever known, and that makes you wonder how he’s managing the whole thing. Maybe he was hired by another university; with his degrees, it shouldn’t be too hard, despite what happened. Damn it, you should have given either of them your number. What if he’s already halfway across the country by now?

“Do you experience feelings of dread in your basement or attic?”

 What the–

You glide out of your kitchen, spatula in hand, almost falling as your sock-clad feet slide on the wooden floor.

“If you or any of your family ever seen a spook, specter–”

“You’re fucking with me.”

As the three of them stand inside your TV offering ghost-hunting services, it makes you wonder if they didn’t take things a tad too far – or too seriously, this time.

“Call the Ghostbusters! We’re ready to believe you!”

Well, you certainly don’t believe it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Phoning the place has been like stepping into another dimension. You’ve been bombarded with words you’ve never heard in any discussion, except in Dr Stantz and Dr Spengler’s endless chatter about compendia and other mystical publications. 

“Is your haunting an apparition, poltergeist, phantasm, wraith, banshee, demon, specter, tortured soul, or–”

“Excuse me but–”

“For your information, we do not summon dead family members.”

“I’m not calling for that–”

“Wait, hold, please. No Dr. Venkman I haven’t–”

And that was the end of the conversation. It left you with a strong puzzling sensation and a definitive confirmation of your aversion to discussions happening over the phone. The secretary never called back and you were secretly glad, leaving you time to summon all of your courage and go there directly. Which you did… eventually.

Funny how when you’re not searching for something, it comes to you from every angle. After discovering the strange choice of reconversion the doctors took, you were bombarded by advertisements, radio talks and covers of magazines. The men have managed to put all of New York in their pocket, and half if not as many ghosts in their traps. You’ve never been a firm believer in specters but Dr. Spengler and Dr. Stantz had talked extensively about them and their prototype to finally be able to catch one. You’ve been more interested in the physics aspect of it all; Dr. Spengler has been more than willing to explain and you’ve been more than willing to add your own theories.

You now stand in front of their headquarters, preparing to face them. And once again–

“Hey, it’s you!”

–it’s Dr. Stantz who nudges you in the right direction. The man smiles widely, face darkened by car oil and dirt, a crooked cigarette hanging from his lip. His uniform is equally as dirty, and he looks more like a mechanic than a ghost hunter… but no one has ever been a ghost hunter before so, what do you know?

“Hi, Dr. Stantz.” You smile. “It’s been a while.”

You can see he’s struggling to not pat your shoulder in a welcoming gesture. “Man, we thought we’d never get to see you again! Spengs’ gonna be so happy to see you!”

Somehow, you have trouble imagining Dr. Spengler overjoyed or overexcited. It’s not in his character.

“Come on!” He gestures for you to follow him. You’re barely inside that he has already strode through half the hall. “Sorry for the mess! It’s so hectic these days.”

“I saw the articles,” you say, taking in your surroundings.

At the front desk sits a fashionable lady whom you guess to be the secretary. She’s busy answering the phone, munching at her pencil and looking exhausted. She barely acknowledges your presence as you follow Dr. Stantz up the stairs.

The man never stopped talking. “Venkman is out right now; he wanted to check on one of our clients. The woman had blood dripping from her chimney, can you believe that?”

You clearly have trouble to. The blood part, not the seducing clients part.

Upstairs is as messy as the hall if not worse. It rivals the state of Weaver Hall. Dr. Stantz throws his extinguished cigarette in a nearby bin before grabbing a paper napkin to wipe his oily hands.

“Egon!”

Dr. Spengler appears from behind a desk, light on his forehead, and invested in organizing a large number of electric cables. “Ray, I found the problem with the Aura-Analyzer–”

He pauses when he sees you, which you can’t say that you did, blinded by the light of his lamp. “Hi,” you say, smiling while protecting your eyes.

“Oh,” he answers, turning it off. “Hello.”

The uneasy silence that follows throws you all the way back to your first meeting as if a month of socializing had suddenly vanished in the span of four tiny weeks.

“Do you have issues with a ghost?” he ends up asking, putting down his torch.

Your eyes widen in surprise, unsure of how to react. Dr. Stantz, however, lets out a strong laugh so you chuckle awkwardly to echo him. “No, no ghost.”

“It’s crazy that you came in today,” Dr. Stantz says, throwing away the dirtied napkins. “We have to improve the storage facility and we need to be able to boost the grid while saving as much power–”

As he speaks, he disappears behind a wall, the sound of running water overlapping his words. You stay silent, watching Dr. Spengler rearrange electric cables until his friend emerges from the bathroom, clean-faced.

“But anyway, Spengs can give you the big tour,” he declares, grinning. “I have a check-up to do at Tai Hong Lau! If we’re lucky, I’ll come back with dinner as well.”

This time, he gives you a clap on the shoulder before running to the stairs but turning back at the last minute. “You’re staying to eat with us right? The owner has the best Peking duck in town, I’m sure you’ll love it! See you later!”

And then he’s gone, leaving you alone with Dr. Spengler. The distance separating you makes the room feels even bigger. You clear your throat. “I see you were able to create your ghost trap after all.”

He nods. “The day we were… dismissed, we managed to have enough readings on our first supernatural encounter to finalize the prototype.”

“Incredible,” you praise before realizing how uncaring you might sound. “I mean, I’m sorry about the whole Dean Yaeger situation.” 

Dr. Spengler shrugs, stepping out of the corner of the room he crammed himself in. “There’s nothing you could have done to change the outcome.”

You decide not to comment. There’s a certain tension behind his words that makes you think he might truly have been upset about the situation.

“So, what’s up with the… grid?” you ask, looking at the different types of equipment stacked in the room.

He does sound relieved by the change of subject. “The Containment System is the storage facility we use for paranormal entities. Lately, the growing number of stored entities has put a strain on the main chamber.” As he explains, he searches in a pile of paper, extracting a large sheet. “The simplest course of action would be to enlarge the room but in case of an exponential increase in psychokinetic energy, it wouldn’t be possible to expand indefinitely and I’m not even addressing the energy consumption problem.”

You saunter closer to him. Half of your brain is focused on how easily he slipped back into his rambling habits. Perhaps not all socialization has been lost, you muse delightfully.

“What’s the worst that could happen? An explosion?” you joke, hands on your hips.

There’s a moment of hesitation. You stare at him in disbelief. “Don’t tell me–”

“The system has a high-voltage laser grid.”

You gape at him for a second before clearing your throat. “Uh, you’ll have to tell me more I’m afraid.”

On the table, he puts down what seems to be the blueprint of the storage chamber. You study it from the side.

“PKE bounds together the negatively charged particles composing a ghost. Our two laser grids…“ He ignores your bewildered expression. “…prevent the entities from escaping.”

He continues, “But we’re completely dependent on the city’s power grid.”

“No redundancies?” you ask, starting to see the problem.

He shakes his head. “We had no way to generate our own power supply when we moved in – we still don’t, and we weren’t planning on a strong surge in PKE.” There’s a tremor at the corner of his eye, perhaps from tiredness. “It makes us vulnerable in case of a power outage.”

It all sounds very hazardous. “I’m surprised you still haven’t had Public Services knocking at your door, with you powering high-voltage grids and…” You throw another look at the blueprint. “…a penning trap of this size.”

Dr. Spengler looks up solemnly. “We have been drawing attention.”

That’s one way to put it, you think. “Won’t you also have problems with your… residents in there?”

“It’s complicated to assess the level of ionization inside the chamber,” he explains, lost in his musings. “I do daily samplings to monitor psychokinetic energy but it’s a time-consuming process and as minimum as it is, there’s still a risk of slippage. Stronger entities could attack the grid from the inside, despite the threat of–”

He comes to a sudden stop. “...perhaps I can just show you. If you’re willing to.”

Blinking away the feeling that is suspiciously looking like infatuation, you smile, trying to convey what you hope is a convincing agreement. “Of course.”

Dr. Spengler nods, putting away the scheme of the Containment System as you stare, unable to stop yourself. Funny how history repeats itself, you think, already picturing how you’re going to neglect your work just to hear him talk more. You can’t bring yourself to care the right amount. The concretization of it all – this whole Ghostbusters thing – is exhilarating. It was fascinating when it was mere speculations but now it’s all real. Right here, in an old firehouse in the middle of New York, are new forms of life; new not in age but in terms of discovery. Your work has always been focused on the future, so this is just another step toward it. It’s – funnily enough, all thanks to the past: the dead, the undead and the spiritual.

“Say, Dr. Spengler.” He turns back. “Have you been able to learn more about that psychokinetic energy?”

“Ghost energy can take various forms. I don’t have a clear idea of what it could be yet.” He frowns. “Which makes the improvement of the unit even more complex.”

“If you and Dr. Stantz are ok with the idea,” you say, heart beating faster. “I’d like to study this matter further. Apart from the effect on the valences, there could be laser-nuclei reactions that are worth looking into, as well as interactions between the entities themselves. Perhaps, it’s too soon to theorize about potential ‘ghost particles’ though...”

Dr. Spengler looks pensive for a minute, and you’re afraid he’ll chastity you – gently, but he just walks closer, extending an arm. “I’ll show you the unit, and we can talk about a new schematic.”

The ‘we’ is a heartwarming promise. “Lead the way, Dr. Spengler.”

As you approach the stairs, he has a small smile on his face. “Egon, please.”

You’ll have to tell him about his stuff at your place someday.

#egon spengler x reader #egon spengler #ghostbusters #ghostbusters imagine #ghostbusters reader insert #non binary reader

[agaypanic]

Love your work btw you’re amazing 😫😫! But anyways could you pls do a Bernard x reader where she’s Scott’s daughter and her and Bernard are dating but keeping it a secret and he finds out and like gets upset about it and overreacts a little and tells them they can’t see each other anymore and maybe like she has to leave the North Pole for some time but Bernard sneaks to her house and idk just some angst ouuu and maybe in the end everything works out and Scott apologizes, sorry it’s so long but i feel like this one’s a good one<333

The Boss' Daughter (Bernard the Elf X Calvin!Reader)

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Summary: The best part of your dad becoming Santa Claus was probably meeting his right hand elf Bernard. But when your dad finds out about your secret relationship, he thinks the best thing is to keep you away from the North Pole until you get over your “little crush.”

A/N: thank you so much for 1.3k followers!!! it means so much! reader is in college, spending her winter break at the north pole. possibly ooc scott/santa ?? also lowkey forgot that lucy existed lmao

***

You loved Christmas. Even before your dad became Santa Claus, you enjoyed the holiday. Well, as much as you could, considering that some of your pre-Santa Dad memories involved your parents fighting and having two somewhat bland celebrations at different houses. Other than that, you enjoyed the occasion.

But you loved Christmas much more now, due to a certain elf.

“Here’s some cocoa.” You said softly, setting the piping hot mug on Bernard’s desk as he read over some paperwork. He quickly scanned over the last paragraph on the page before looking up at you.

“Hey,” Bernard said softly, giving you a smile. “Thanks.” He grabbed the mug and took a sip, visibly relaxing from his stiff, hunched-over position. You leaned against his desk, drinking from your own cup. “How’s your day been?”

“Probably better than yours.” You laughed, looking at the vast amount of papers on Bernard’s desk.

“Yeah, probably.” He agreed, sighing at the sight before looking back at you. “But my day’s getting better now that you’re here.”

“Well, aren’t you sweet?” You giggled, feeling your cheeks heat up. No matter how cold the North Pole was, Bernard’s words always made you feel warm and fuzzy inside, as cheesy as that is. You push off from the desk and stand, taking another sip of your cocoa. “So, I have a question.”

Bernard pouted, turning his chair to face you.

“And here I thought you just wanted to see my handsome face and give me treats.” He joked. You snickered, slapping his shoulder lightly before settling in his lap, putting an arm around his shoulders to stabilize yourself. Bernard put the hand that wasn’t holding his mug on your waist, keeping you close. “What’s your question?”

“Well, I know that you get really stressed leading up to Christmas.” You twirled some of Bernard’s curls around your finger as you spoke. “And I know that you’d probably rather be running around the workshop making sure everything’s in order while my dad’s gone. And I came up here to spend my break with you, but I don’t exactly wanna spend it chasing you around the workshop.”

“Isn’t there supposed to be a question?” Bernard teased, and you rolled your eyes.

“I was getting there.” You said. “Anyways, I was wondering if we could do something together while my dad’s gone. Like go ice skating or look at the lights around the North Pole or something.”

“Y/n, you can do that any day.”

“Yeah, but not as a couple.” You argue gently. “Whenever my dad’s around, everything feels so awkward because we’re trying so hard not to give away the fact that we’re together. Christmas Eve is the one day that he’ll be away, and everyone else will be so busy making sure the night goes smoothly that they won’t notice us sneaking away.”

“Angel, I’m like, the main guy who has to make sure the night goes smoothly.”

You pouted, knowing Bernard was right. Although you knew he loved his job, sometimes you wished he wasn’t Head Elf. More of your limited time could be spent together. Plus, you wouldn’t have to worry so much about your father, who your boyfriend worked directly under, finding out you were dating.

“It was just an idea.” You sighed a bit dejectedly as you leaned more into Bernard. “I just… I wish we could do couple things, you know? Like in public. But I know Dad would probably go ballistic, and I’m not exactly confident in the other elves’ ability to keep a secret.”

“Yeah, I know,” Bernard replied softly, kissing the side of your head before taking a gulp of hot chocolate. “One day, it’ll be different.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, drinking and taking each other’s warmth. Eventually, Bernard looked down into his empty mug and sighed.

“I should get back to work.” He said, clearly not wanting to. You nodded, shifting in his lap to stand up when Bernard squeezed your hip. You looked at him with a raised brow. “At least give me a kiss before you go, angel.”

You grinned and did as he requested. Both of you tasted like chocolate and peppermint, and you couldn’t help but giggle when Bernard went in for another kiss when you pulled away.

Distracted by what you were doing, you and Bernard failed to hear a knock on his office door or the person opening it.

“What’s going on here?” You and Bernard broke apart, looking over to see your father looking at you in shock. You jumped out of Bernard’s lap, trying to seem like you weren’t just making out with him.

“Hey, Dad.” You said, your voice wavering from your nervousness. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” It was clear that he wasn’t a fan of what he just saw. “What are you doing here, on his lap?”

You and Bernard didn’t answer; you didn’t really know how to. All three of you stared at each other, you and Bernard with slight fear and your dad with sternness. The tension grew unbearably thicker by the second.

“How long has… this been going on?” Your dad finally asked. He wasn’t stupid; it was safe to assume that there was some kind of relationship between you and his Head Elf.

“Um…” You were glad Bernard decided to answer the question, because you’re pretty sure your voice died in your throat. He played with a pen on his desk, not wanting to look up at Scott. “About two… Yeah, two years.”

“Years?” 

“Dad, don’t freak out.” You took a step towards him, and his gaze snapped to you.

“I forbid this. Forbid it, Y/n.”

“I’m an adult; you can’t stop me from dating Bernard.”

“Oh, yes, I can.” Your dad laughed, but he was far from amused. “You’re my daughter, and he’s my employee. My elf employee.”

“We’re grown-ups; we’re allowed to decide whether or not we want to date.” You knew arguing with your dad was a bit pointless, but you figured you might as well try. 

“You’re right, you are grown-ups. Bernard is over a thousand years old!” Under different circumstances, you would’ve laughed. Although you looked the same age, Bernard was an immortal being. One of the things you teased him about was being a grumpy old man, which he would always respond to with an eye roll. Your dad sighed, putting his hands on his hips as he thought. “Y/n, pack your stuff. I’m sending you to your mother’s.”

“What?” Bernard was out of his chair and by your side in an instant, both of you shocked by your dad’s words. “You’re not serious.”

“I’m as serious as frostbite! And until you get this little crush out of your system… Y/n, you can’t come back to the North Pole.”

***

You felt numb all over. It had been five days since you left the North Pole, since you last saw Bernard. Your goodbye was filled with tears and kisses that your dad didn’t see. Bernard promised that he would see you again someday soon, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him you didn’t believe that.

You tried to put on a happy face for your family. But they all knew better. Your mother was mad at your father on your behalf, unable to understand how Scott could break his daughter’s heart by sending you away. Neil did his best to comfort you, being a psychiatrist and all. Charlie went on about how unfair it was that you couldn’t go to the North Pole anymore, slightly ignoring the fact that you didn’t care much about the North Pole compared to Bernard. And Lucy just hated to see you so sad, bombarding you with hugs every chance she got.

When Christmas Eve arrived, you wanted to hide under the covers. If your mom and Neil wouldn’t try to drag you out of bed, you’d sleep your way into the new year.

Your parents coaxed you into watching movies with them later that night. Despite the occasion, they steered clear of the Christmas movies, not wanting you to cry more than you already have. But Bernard was still on your mind as you toyed with the necklace that he had given you for Christmas one year, right before he admitted that he liked you.

While your family argued over what to watch next, you got up and went to the kitchen to make yourself some tea. 

You put the kettle on the stove and picked out some sleepytime tea, hoping that would make the night end faster. When it started whistling, you took the kettle off the burner. You heard frantic knocking on the door as you poured the hot water into your mug.

“Who could be knocking at this hour?” Neil murmured as he got up and went to the door. When he opened it, he froze for a second before popping his head into the kitchen. “Y/n, it’s for you.”

Confused, you left the kitchen. You didn’t tell any of your friends that you were in town, so you had no idea who was waiting for you on the other side of that door.

“Hey, angel.”

You couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of Bernard standing in front of you. At first, you thought it was your imagination, some cruel joke being played by your subconscious. But when you reached out to him, and he immediately laced your fingers together, you knew it was real.

You yanked him into the house, wrapping your arms around him with almost the strength of a death grip. Bernard did the same, burying his head into the crook of your neck.

Being too wrapped up in your little reunion, you didn’t notice your parents tell your siblings that it was time for bed in order to give you and Bernard some privacy. When you finally pulled away, you were a bit surprised to find the room empty. But you weren’t going to complain about it.

“What are you doing here?” You asked Bernard, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that he was here, right in front of you.

“You said you wanted to be together for Christmas Eve.” Bernard held your cheek and kissed you sweetly, showing all the yearning you had both felt this past week. “I don’t care what your father says,” Bernard whispered against your lips, giving you a few pecks. “He can’t keep us apart. I’ll retire and leave the North Pole if I have to.”

“You don’t mean that.” You shook your head, grabbing Bernard’s hands. “Bernard, you love your job, even if it drives you crazy.”

“I’d go even crazier without you, Y/n. Not knowing where or how you are.” Bernard argued, squeezing your hands. “You know, I liked having you all to myself at first, but it’s so hard having to pretend I don’t love you as much as I do.” Your breath hitched at the sincerity in his confession.

“You love me?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but with how close Bernard was, he heard it as clear as day.

“Of course I do, Y/n.” Bernard kissed you again, and then a few more times.

“I love you too.” You responded between the kisses.

Eventually, you were somehow all out of kisses to give. The two of you moved to one of the couches, where you cuddled up together. You didn’t need to put on a movie or say anything. You just soaked up each other’s presence that you had missed so dearly.

“Should we head to bed?” You asked after a long silence. “Or do you need to head back home?”

“I left Curtis in charge.”

“Oh, then you should definitely go back.” You snickered. You knew Bernard wasn’t entirely fond of Curtis, but he could probably hold down the fort for one night. “Come on, I’m tired.”

You stood up, Bernard close behind you. You started to lead him out of the living room when you heard a thump. Startled, you turned around to the source of the sound, seeing a giant red sack in your fireplace.

“Oh god.” You whispered, gripping at Bernard’s arm. You’d run up the stairs and hide in your room, but you felt frozen in your place. Bernard seemed to have the same sentiment, because the two of you stood and watched black boots appear in the fireplace.

Soon enough, your dad emerged, freezing as he saw the two of you.

“Y/n, I- Bernard? What are you doing here?” He straightened up, looking at the two of you inquisitively. It was softer than the last time he looked at you and Bernard, but you were still a bit weary.

“I came to see Y/n,” Bernard answered, feeling braver than he did while interacting with your father for the past week. 

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“Look, Dad.” You took a deep breath. As happy as you were to have Bernard back, you wanted to go back to hiding under your covers. “We don’t care that I’m human and he’s an elf. Or that he’s a thousand-year-old grumpy man.”

“Hey!”

“Bernard and I, we love each other. You represent a holiday that’s all about being together with the people you love; how could you try to keep us apart?”

Scott was quiet, staring at you with a blank expression. Eventually, he sighed.

“You’re right.” He said. “It was wrong of me to do that. I just… I don’t want my daughter getting hurt, is all. No father wants that. I’m sorry.”

Happy that he seemed to change his mind about the situation, you ran around the couch and hugged your dad. Being the big, jolly man he was, his embrace lifted you slightly off your feet.

“If you want, you can come back,” Scott said when he set you down. “To the North Pole.”

“Maybe.” You say, going back to Bernard. “Maybe I could go in the morning, bring the rest of the family.”

“That sounds good to me.” Your dad said, taking presents out of his giant sack and putting them under the tree. While placing them, he glanced at Bernard. “Bernard, if you’re here, who’s looking over the shop?”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Bernard’s jaw clench, and you let out a small giggle.

“Curtis…” 

“Oh boy. Have fun with that.” Your dad laughed, setting down the last of the presents and tying up the sack. He pointed at you. “No peeking, Y/n. Not until morning.”

“I promise.” You said, knowing that you would grab a present to open right after he left. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’m guessing you’re staying here tonight too?” Scott asked Bernard, who nodded. “Okay. Take care of her.”

“I will.” The two men knew they weren’t talking about Bernard caring for you for just the night. They knew it would be much longer than that.

You waved goodbye to your father, and he soon disappeared up the chimney, leaving you and Bernard alone in the living room once again.

“I’m glad you came.” You said, leaning into Bernard’s side and resting your head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around you and looked down at you.

“Me too.” He kissed your head. “I know you might still be tired, but there’s still about an hour of Christmas Eve left, and this neighborhood has really nice Christmas lights. We can go look, if you want?”

You squealed, kissing Bernard’s cheek and running to get your shoes.

***

Bernard the Elf Taglist: @katerinaval

#agaypanic #bernard the elf x reader #bernard the elf #the santa clause x reader #the santa clause

[motherphoebe]

The Parting Glass

Annie Cresta's time as a career tribute in the 70th Hunger Games. Canon compliant, as of right now this fic will be mostly head cannon as we know so little until the original trilogy. I wanted to add so much more to this, but I dont think I would've ever posted if I kept editing it lmao. I also posted this on my ao3 account, same username as here! enjoy and please leave feedback ngl i need to be hyped up!

Chapter 1:

next chapter

The first thing I do is throw the quilt off of my legs.

The open window does little to aid in cooling down the room, the relentless summer heat did not cool throughout the night and now the opened curtains also let in the blinding morning sun. It takes a moment to get past my drowsiness, but eventually I reluctantly move my sweaty body from the small bed, hanging my legs off the side and holding my head in my hands.

I wish the sweltering heat were the reason for my restless night. Today is reaping day, and the salty air somehow doesn’t feel as peaceful as usual and does little to calm my nerves. My chest tightens and I quickly try to calm myself. I reach for my tying rope and think about last night, my time at the beach, swimming with a large group of friends, the peaceful waves, the moon, and surprisingly I find my breathing subtly calm. I wish today weren't reaping day, I wish they’d cancel the games all together, I wish a lot of things. I tie and untie my rope, and slowly accept that wishing won’t change the events of today and what is expected of me as an eighteen year old living in Panem.

Every year, the Capitol hosts a Hunger Games, and the first step is a reaping ceremony in which each of the 12 districts have to produce a male and female tribute. It’s to keep us scared and unwilling of rebellion, the fate of children 12 to 18, in the hands of the Capitol to be escorted into an arena to fight to the death. My thoughts are interrupted when I hear my older siblings greeting my parents in the other room, and suddenly my sisters bursting into the bedroom we used to share.

“Annie!” I take in her ecstatic demeanor and can't help but smile. I gasp and make a teasingly shocked face, while examining the gifts she came bearing: A new dress, and cherries.

“Muriel, you’re planning on sharing those right?”

My mouth waters at the sight of the cherries, and I wonder how she was able to afford them, along with the dress. It’s not like we have a surplus of money, and cherries are usually outrageously expensive when sold at the market. Her and I, and our older brother, Skipper, picked up jobs as soon as we could to help our parents, but now that she’s married, maybe she can afford such luxuries. Muriel makes beautiful tapestries using the flowers and plants that line the shores, and they've always seemed to sell quite well at the market, along with her handmade jewelry. My brother, Skipper, started repairing boats with my father once they were back from their shifts out at sea. The pair's services are relatively cheap and extremely effective, the people of 4 with boats need them functioning to be able to live so there’s always business.

Muriel exaggerates the shaking of her head, acting like she’s keeping the gifts to herself, then instantly breaks character, smiling and handing the fruit to me, carefully hanging the light blue dress off the chair. I can see the worry she’s trying to hide in her eyes.

“And is this dress new? Muriel these gifts are so nice they must have cost you a fortune, please let me pay you back-”

“I got them for you.” She cuts me off, putting my head in her hands “Plus, you wouldn’t be able to pay me back anyway.”

She’s joking but she’s not wrong; while she and Skipper found real jobs, I found peacefulness, and a very small income compared to the two of them. I started helping our neighbor, Mrs. Ahearn, by teaching some of her swimming lessons. It doesn’t pay well and I probably couldn’t save enough to buy even some grain at the market after a month of work, but there’s something about teaching the younger children of my district that makes it worth it. Still so innocent, too young to be put into the training academy, their parents still shielding their eyes when the games are playing, the worst things that could happen to them so far away. Plus, it’s a great way to meet the people in town, most of the kids are the younger siblings of friends i’ve known for years, and honestly, it’s better than being at home. The house feels empty now that both my siblings have left.

Muriel moves her hands and pulls me into a hug, our heads resting on each other's shoulders. “You still being in the reaping makes me feel worse than when I was. I know you’ll be fine Annie, but the sooner we’re all done with this the better. Better for mom and dad too, you know it scares them to death. Can I help you get ready?”

I nod my head in agreement, and soon my mouth is full of cherry pits. The reaping scares all of us, my father says that’s the point and it’s been obvious to me that our parents have had enough stress from the reapings in their lives. The second Skipper was ten, he was the first of us to enter the training academy after school, and once we were all old enough to be reaped, it seemed everything tied back to being a lesson on how we could win the Hunger Games, fishing, strength, knowledge. After surviving his own childhood possibility of being reaped, putting us in the training academy was my fathers small way of finding comfort in the uncontrollable, it gave him the peace of mind many other parents found refuge in; that if the odds hadn’t been in their families favor, their child could at least have a chance.

Muriel starts with my hair, stating something about my ‘messy cherry hands’ staining the pastel blue of the linen dress, and to keep them far away. Her hands are calloused, reflecting those of someone who’s worked a majority of their life, weaving and unweaving nets, creating her tapestries and intricate jewelry. She’s so precise in the way she does my hair, something I'm so grateful for. Choosing specific strands, tying them under or over, I’ve never been able to replicate these styles for her though, no matter how hard I try.

The thought of being reaped is horrifying, but there’s no comfort in the children I’ve known forever being reaped instead, it sends a shudder down my spine, and I feel the panic slowly seeping into my chest. The most recent victor we’ve had in District 4 is Finnick Odair. Although he’s a year older than me and a grade above, I remember him fondly from our short time together in the academy, but even more strongly I remember my fear when he was reaped at fourteen. His capability of winning so young makes me feel weak, and honestly dumb for being so horrified at age eighteen. It seemed all everyone was obsessing over during his games were his looks, but all I could think about was how kind he’d been to me, and how quickly he’d turned into a killer to survive. Somehow I found comfort in that thought. If he’d gone through only four years of the training I’ve had and won, I should be confident in my skills after eight.

I hadn’t realized my foot was tapping aggressively until Muriel placed her hand on my knee and I immediately stopped while she leaned her head down to my face.

“It’s okay to be nervous, Annie, I’m nervous too, probably safe to say all the Cresta’s are nervous. But, we will all be fine tonight, for our celebratory dinner and beach swim, right?” She has tears building in her eyes, “You’ll have to be fine Annie, this is your last year! Only one more and we will all be okay.”

The tears begin to roll down her cheeks in small lines that rush over her blushed face, while she tries to convince both of us.

Muriel has always been free to be overtly emotional, her strength is not relied on to keep others strong. If I ever cried or showed my weakness like this to any of my family, i’m afraid it would shatter them into a million little pieces— Annie Cresta, the baby of the family, so scared and so weak and completely unsaveable by any of them— so I put on a strong face, and push back the tears.

“You know i’ll be just fine Muriel, my name is only in there seven times. The odds have been in our favor the past ten years since Skippers first reaping, I have no doubt of our family's luck.”

I can’t help but wipe my cherry stained hands on my old sleeping shirt I’m sure was hers before reaching up and wiping her tears, just before pulling her into a tight hug. I take whatever doubt I have in my own statement and shove it deep within me, refusing to let my worries get to me, especially now.

My words slightly comfort Muriel, but when my mother walks in, a whole new feeling of serenity washes over us, whether it's forced or not.

“Hello, oh! My sweet Poppy!” she enters the room with a weary face, and once seeing her two daughters in a sorrowful hug, she rushes over to press a gentle kiss to my cheek. My mother and Muriel are so similar, not just in their looks, with beautiful big brown eyes and dark blonde hair, but in attitude as well. Of course, my mother and sister are strong, our whole family is strong, but they are not afraid to let their softer sides show. Whether it’s Muriel’s tears or my mother’s tender affection, it works for them, it makes them stronger to be so emotionally available, but it doesn’t seem to come as easily to the rest of us. While Skipper seems to be a somewhat perfect mix of my mother and father in looks and personality, I look into the mirror now and see my father in every way. Dark brown some what curly hair, sea foam green eyes and tan skin, the need to be strong for the people around us.

“You look beautiful, as always.” She says simply, bringing her palm to her own face to stub her tears. She walks around to the back of my head where Muriel’s progress with my hair had come to a brief pause. She turns me towards the dirty mirror, and I can see the beautiful intricate half braid my sister has done on the top layers of my hair, leaving the rest long and freely curling naturally. Muriel adds a starfish and pearl necklace she made for me years ago on my 12th birthday, and my mother adds a beautiful poppy orange bow that stands out beautifully in my dark brown hair. “It reminded me of you, Ula’s mother was selling them yesterday. It’s almost time to leave, make sure you’re dressed soon.”

She places another soft kiss on the top of my head and then leaves the room. She has called me her Poppy for as long as I can remember, saying I'm just as bright as the beautiful orange flower that grows all over District 4. Muriel follows her out, adjusting the necklace around my neck, “It gets worse each year, but I believe in you, Annie.” I want to comfort her, tell her I’ll be fine, but I can’t trust the stability in voice to make it convincing. Instead I acknowledge her sentiment by simply nodding.

As we walk to the ceremony, I try to stay present in my family's conversation, but my mind keeps drifting away. Every child I see my age has a target on their back, even myself, and none of us know who will be hit. I don’t let this show in my face, keeping a steady smile and waving to my fellow peers, who I've grown so close to. The reaping ceremony is already awful, but when you’re so acquainted in such a tightly knit community, there is no getting out unscathed, It’s always someone I know.

Once we arrive at the square in front of the justice building, my chest tightens and I’m forced now to strictly focus on my breathing. Being the only one in the family eligible to be reaped, I’m forced to part from as they continue towards the viewing area. Our separation is short and sweet, just a simple discussion of where we will meet once the ceremony concludes. I search almost desperately for someone to stand with while waiting to check in. Of course there’s a surplus of children my age, most I know quite well, but I’m not sure who to start a conversation with. I see Ula and decide her normally timid personality would be perfect.

We shuffle into the eighteen year old group, and quickly get pushed through the line to the standing area right before the stage. I thank her for the bow even though her mother made it, and that’s about all we say to each other. Even though I’m surrounded by friends from school or the training academy, I refrain from saying much more. There's not much to say, in a perfect world it would be none of us, maybe the games would be canceled, but the worlds not perfect and “hope it's you not me” isn't really the most comforting sentiment.

The mayor takes the stage, starting with his usual speech and directing us to watch the screens positioned above us, and I prepare myself to doze off. I know nothing important happens until the escort, Prisca Luminara, takes the stage, then I’ll be forced to pay attention, but for now I can stare at the screens and pretend to watch. The usual video plays about the Dark Days, a time of war and rebellion, and why we must participate in the Hunger Games. It’s not until I see Prisca walk up to the microphone, her silver tied up hair immediately catching my attention, that I tune in. First she introduces District 4’s previous victors , we actually have quite a few, but there’s been no one new since Finnick Odair won 5 years ago.

I find myself looking at Finnick, the way the sun reflects off his bronze hair, and realize the girls at school aren’t wrong, he’s beautiful. Honestly I’d never realized, the last conversations we had were so friendly. Both of us were so young, joking about mermaids and seaweed, I’ve preferred thinking of him that way since, not as the man he’s supposedly become.

I accidentally think about him for far too long, and don't fully tune in until Prisca announces that it’s time to pick the tributes.

“As always, ladies first! Remember, volunteering must wait until both tributes have been reaped!”

Her posh accent ringing through my ears while she steps towards the glass ball holding the female tribute's names. Six of those slips hold the name ‘Annie Cresta’, carefully folded and thrown in with the rest. Prisca pulls the tributes name and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I follow the actions of my peers as they slowly make a circle, it must have been someone from my age group.

“Annie Cresta! Don’t be shy, dear come up!”

Suddenly I realize what’s going on, I gather myself the best I can and somehow begin walking down the main aisle towards the stage. It takes all my strength to keep my head up, a kind smile holding my face together to hide my absolute shock. Eventually I reach the stage, smiling to Prisca as she takes my hand to lead me to my place, I even tell her thanks. The humid heat is even more unbearable up here, and I do everything in my power to avoid the faces of my peers below me, knowing how easily it could break this smile and fall into a puddle of tears.

“Perfect! Now for the boys!” Her heels are louder now that I'm onstage, and I can see her jewel encrusted nails searching in the bowl for the next tribute.

“Bodie Cormoran”

Now it seriously takes everything in me to not collapse to the floor. When I hear his name, avoiding eye contact with the crowd is not my biggest worry; I know him, I know him far too well. I immediately see the eighteen year old boy's fluffy auburn hair, making his way to the stage. His usual tall and stocky build seems only half as sturdy as it normally is, although the small defeat in his shoulders is probably only noticeable to those who know him closely. Soon, he’s being led by Prisca to the spot next to me as she chatters about her excitement. As soon as I make eye contact with him, I give him a reassuring look. I receive one in return, a small smile and nod, but his eyes show me how horrified he is. It’s because we will be going in together, if one of us lives, it ensures the other one’s death.

“Now do we have any volunteers? Remember folks, you cannot volunteer for someone who has already volunteered!”

She seems to be expecting a lot more action, but the time to volunteer comes and goes, and the only sound that fills the square is the waves from the far off sea. I hide my disappointment behind my small smile while staring forward towards the cameras. I need to play this exactly the way I’ve been trained, and for now I have to seem relentlessly strong, a true career tribute from District 4.

But when they ask for the tributes to shake hands, I can’t help but hug Bodie instead.

#annie cresta #finnick odair #the hunger games #thg #thg finnick #finnick #the parting glass #the 70th hunger games #odesta #finnick x annie #district 4 #mags flanagan #fan fiction #thg fanfiction

[devilsrecreation]

New TLG OC cuz apparently I don’t know when to quit

Makuu’s girlfriend/mate, Ucheshi (charm, humor)

She’s a sweet silly ray of sunshine whose sparring techniques are a bit…different from the other crocs, but they surprisingly work. She’s outgoing, extremely talkative (to the point where she doesn’t shut up easily), and prone to excitement. She’s also very affectionate with her loved ones and loves making others laugh. She prefers to settle things peacefully, but she won’t hesitate to get into a fight if it backfires.

You would think she wouldn’t be Makuu’s type and honestly, Makuu didn’t either. That was until she made him laugh. Then he started noticing how supportive and patient she was and found her…kinda cute. From then on, Makuu developed a soft spot for her and they formed a really wholesome relationship. It’s basically that of Roger and Jessica with the genders swapped cuz we need more silly ladies with absolute catches for a man lmao

-Her battle tactic is looking weak and acting like a damsel in distress, then defeating her opponent when their guard is down. She’s perfectly capable of defending herself

-She also just so happens to be Kiburi’s little sister so that’s fun

Could you imagine his reaction when he learns that Ucheshi and Makuu are dating?

“Course I’m gonna have a problem when MY RIVAL IS DATING MY LITTLE SISTER-”

-Speaking of which, Kiburi’s actions during “Let Sleeping Crocs Lie” hurt her immensely and caused a rift between them. He wasn’t the same big brother she knew and loved. He was completely different. Last time she ever saw him in the Pridelands was when he was heading to the Outlands with the others. They locked eyes for a moment, she turned away in shame, and that was that. They talked once during Season 2 in an effort to get Kiburi to change his ways, but he unfortunately was too far gone. This led to a fight (the argument kind) where they each said things they regret and haven’t spoken since.

-Having said that, Kiburi is still her brother and she loves him. He may want to hurt Makuu and take over the Pridelands, but she knows damn well he would never hurt her. While he does find her annoying, he’ll protect her with his life. They eventually start talking again and while it takes some time (and a little journey to Udugu), they decide to leave the past in the past and she forgives him

-Unlike Makuu and Kiburi, she has no problem with Hukumu and her float. In fact, they become pretty good friends! They’ll usually have a chat or take a little walk while the boys keep fighting lmao

-She’s a mentor figure to Chama, Mzaha, and Furaha. And by that, I mean a mentor of fun. She’s the kind of person (animal) who’s like “Are you doing that ridiculous dust joke….without me???”. They have so much respect for her hfhfgf

-She was the only croc willing to let Hodari into the float cuz she found him outright adorable. While the other females just rolled their eyes, Ucheshi was like 😃😃😃😃😃. When Hodari’s song was finished, she actually started thumping her tail (but stopped once she realized everyone else was laughing). Now that he’s an honorary croc, she treats him like her son. Loves the little guy to bits

And here’s a bonus quote since I couldn’t resist:

Makuu: I want my potential mate to be a brave, strong, intelligent, independent warrior

Ucheshi: *having a fun splashing match with Mzaha, Furaha, and Chama, laughing*

Makuu: ….That one. I want that one.

#my god if i could draw 😭 #tbh she was orginally made just so there could be more roleswapped roger x jessica rabbit ships but then i got attached #if ya’ll want more headcanons about her i got you #from a girl Makuu would never be into into a girl that he’d kinda be into~ #oc #oc rambling #the lion guard

[nattinatalia]

Liked by yourusername, urbanwyatt, djdrama, and 9,678,897 others

jackharlow Booked and busy 🤞🏼 VMA’s this Sunday, y’all ready??

View all 1,900 comments

yourusername Superstar ⭐️

yourusername Oh we’re ready!!!!

yourusername Beyond proud of you bubs.

yourusername But please keep the dad jokes at home 😂

jackharlow My jokes are the best what you talking about.

druski2funnny They really not bro

jackharlow My daughter laughs at them so they’re funny.

druski2funnny Are you sure she’s not just laughing at you?

jackharlow Babe, you tell me they’re funny all the time.

yourusername I love you.

druski2funnny Na say that shit with your chest. Tell him his jokes suck.

jackharlow Yall are mean today

yourusername 😬 I’m sorry bubs, you’ll be amazing 🙏🏻🫶🏻

druski2funnny Backing out from your statement y/n not cool.

yourusername 🤫

jackharlow BAAAABE!!!!!! 😩😤

llcoolj I got you with the jokes Sunday 😂

yourusername YES THANK YOU!!!!

jackharlow Idk why you acting like I don’t make yo ass laugh. Out here being fake 😩

yourusername 😱 Lmao stop

druski2funnny DRAAG HER, you’re funny idk what she’s talking about. Damn y/n why you gotta do our boy like that?

yourusername You know what, you’re about to loose The Godfather card for next baby, you always instigating 😭

druski2funnny JACK YOURE NOT FUNNY LEAVE THE JOKES TO SOMEONE ELSE

jackharlow See I know you both are lying because I’ve caught y/n watching YouTube videos of me being funny and she’s always laughing.

yourusername 🙈

jackharlow Baby admit that Im funny and my jokes are funny

yourusername 😂😂😂😂

jackharlow Y/n!!!!!!!

yourusername Ok you’re awkwardly funny. But like not in a bad way. ❤️❤️❤️

jackharlow 🙄 I’ll take it I guess.

❤️

@ jackharlow added to their story

❤️

@ yourusername added to their story

❤️

Liked by jackharlow, dalexmusic, lennytavarez, jquiles , and 9,789,445 others

yourusername Can’t stop, won’t stop! 💣 coming 🔜

View all 1,980 comments

ynupdates 😱

jackharlow Hustler

urbanwyatt 🔥

jquiles Una bomba esto 🔥

jackharlow Surprises after surprises, proud of you mama ❤️

yourusername Love you 😛😘

y/n/harlow Every collab you do its always with the top guys. You always kill it 👏🏻 do something with Jack please

yourusername Superstar doesn’t have time for little me 😉

jackharlow Quit playing! 🙄

jackharlow What she needs to do is drop the two track she wrote about me when we first started dating.

yourusername 🤫 That’s only for us

yourbestiename Bitch if you don’t send me those songs right now I’m going to fuck you up, why am I barely finding out you wrote songs about him???

yourusername Because they were meant to be only for my ears and no one else.

jackharlow RELEASE THEM!!!

yourusername NO

druski2funnny Are they about how he was a fuckboy?

jackharlow 🙄

yourusername Lmao no

yourbestiename Tell me. Text me.

urbanwyatt I want to know too.

yourusername Nosy asses

jackharlow For what I understand, one of them was diss track to she who cannot be named 🤐

yourbestiename BITCH! DROP THAT SHIT NOW!!!!!

urbanwyatt Ohhh 😮 pls release that song.

druski2funnny Yooo i want to listen to that shit even though I won’t understand 😂💀

yourbestiename Whats the other one?

jackharlow Tell em wife 😉 😁

yourusername Who’s being annoying now? 🤦🏻‍♀️ you tell them since we’re revealing our secrets.

druski2funnny Hey we’re family, there’s no secrets between us.

yourusername LMAO

jackharlow Know how she played hard to get? Well little miss hard to get wrote a song about how she’s wondering who I’ve been with and that her head is a mess just thinking about our nights together.

urbanwyatt Y/N 😂

ynupdates JACK IF YOU DONT RELEASE THOSE TWO SONGS FOR US!!!!!

yourbestiename Seriously you need to let me listen to them. I want to listen how you went in on little ex and how you were thinking about dude who wasn’t even on your mind back then.

jackharlow Dude is now her husband, thank you very much 🫡

hisexname 🥱🥱🥱

druski2funnny HELL NO RELEASE THAT SHIT NOW

urbanwyatt Oh shit 😲

yourbestiename BITCH FUCK OUT OF HERE. Y/n please

yourusername Lmao nooo.

jackharlow I got y’all just wait…….

yourusername They better be waiting sitting down because those are not being heard anywhere.

jackharlow Just remember you love me, I’m your husband and the father of your children.

urbanwyatt If y’all pray, pray for him pls

#jack harlow x reader #instagram au #jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jackman harlow #jackman thomas harlow

[sapphire-writes]

💕 Self-love time! Talk about which ones of YOUR creations (edits, artworks, fanfics or a fanfic chapter or a scene or an arc) you enjoy the most, for whatever reason. Send to other creators to do the same if you wish. 💕

(Emphasis on if you wish)

omg Ange!! love this, thank you for asking!

I can't not talk about Down In Flames, I'm sorry if it gets annoying lmao, I'm just truly so proud of it 🥹

specifically, the kitchen scene that started it all ❤️ the first moment I saw in my mind with Aemond and our dear reader (here's a lil snippy below if you've forgotten 😉)

“So after the party, you won’t have to deal with me anymore,” you tell him, the bitterness evident in your voice. 

You look away first. Who cares about this stupid stalemate anymore? You’re so done with Targaryen men. You turn on your heel prepared to leave the kitchen when Aemond speaks. 

“You know what I think?” he says softly, and you look at him once more. 

He wets his lips, a muscle in his jaw twitching. You wait for him to speak, anticipation causing your skin to blossom with goosebumps. 

“I don’t think you’re mad I fucked Rhaena,” he tells you and you shake your head, opening your mouth to argue, your eyes narrowing. 

Of course that’s why you are mad, what is he talking about?

“I think you’re mad I didn’t fuck you,” he says slowly. 

Your mouth suddenly goes dry as all the air evaporates from your lungs. Your heart beats erratically in your chest and you swallow the lump beginning to form in your throat. Aemond’s eyes light up as you fail to answer, the beginning of a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. 

“You’re jealous,” he practically purrs, as you feel the heat rise to your cheeks, flooding them with color. 

The air in the kitchen feels so hot, it’s as though it is melting the flesh from your bones. You’re not jealous, why would you be jealous? No, no that doesn’t make any sense. He’s just saying that to mess with you, to make you confused. 

“Fuck you,” you whisper, still frozen to the spot. 

Your chest heaves with your breath. There is a look in Aemond’s eye, reminiscent of a rabid dog.

“I didn’t sleep with Rhaena,” he tells you and you blink in surprise. 

Your heart nearly stops beating. 

“What?”

“We made out,” he admits, grinning smugly as he shrugs, “she wanted to be more comfortable so I gave her my shirt.”

The nerves you felt a moment ago are replaced by fury yet again. He tricked you, and now he has humiliated you. In the neverending battle between you and Aemond, it appears Aemond has finally won. His smile is triumphant as he takes in your reaction. 

You clench your jaw, preparing yourself for being the butt of the joke, before rolling your eyes at him. 

“You are such a dick,” you tell him, your tone defeated as you turn away from him in surrender. 

Aemond reaches out, grabs your arm, and forces you to face him. 

“Oh, fuck off-” you begin to say when he presses his lips against yours. 

The kiss is brief and sears your lips. You pull away immediately, staring at him, eyes wide. Aemond stares back at you, not releasing your arm. 

Holy shit.

#sapphire answers #down in flames

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

Some jackass broke my heart and I needed a little comfort, so I wrote these (kinda self indulgent).

How would Shang Tsung be in a relationship

-> Before getting in a relationship:

• ok so a relationship between you two would start unconventionally. The man is eccentric, has a private island, and has fine taste in general. He also has a big ego and when it comes to a possible partner he’ll be very careful when choosing.

• you won’t see him in his true form. He’ll morph into different people when interacting with you. It’s possible to see the same form two or maximum of three times. He does it because he wants to see if you’re worth his time. He’s a manipulative snake so he’ll get the information he needs about you in those two or three meetings. As for the constantly changing form, he wants to see to which face you’re willing to open up faster.

• when he’ll be sure that you’re the one, he’ll morph into his older self. He’ll play the innocent old man around you, seeing if you have any empathy for him (he’ll pull the oldest tricks in the book, like losing his balance and stuff which surpassingly works). Even if he’s a cold schemer, he wants someone with empathy to take care of him and make him feel loved. He’s not made out of stone.

• saying so, let me add here something quick, he wants someone JUST for him, and when I say that I mean someone to show HIM and only him empathy and affection. He wouldn’t want you to take care of someone else, even if you give a plain advice because he’ll get jealous quickly.

• coming back, when he sees that you are kind he’ll go to the next step, which is inviting you to the island. He’ll prepare the fanciest boat (not one that’s about to drown like the one we see in the ‘95 movie), no I mean a nice and safe boat. There’ll be plenty of personnel to make your trip pleasant. (Lmao Shang said “if die they die lmao, what did they expect, a yacht? We take Earthrealm first thing in the morning if something happens to them”)

• he’ll welcome you with open arms, wearing elegant clothes that will accentuate his toned body. His hair will be in his usual style, the one with braids and a ponytail. He’ll arrange a nice dinner, with good food and nice music. His eyes will be fixed on you the entire time, and he’ll have such a lovely gaze. He’ll listen to your stories and laugh at your jokes even if they’re not funny.

-> After getting in the relationship:

•now during the relationship he will be the one in control. After a few months, you’ll find that he treats you like no one else did.

• he’ll find a way to tell you about his powers and will assure you that they don’t do any harm. He won’t tell you about the soul-sucking shit or the shapeshift. He’ll either tell you at some point or you’ll find out for yourself.

• he’s super attentive to your needs. He’ll put servants to follow you around the island and serve you whenever you need.

• he’ll demand you stay on his island. He has so many enemies and he can’t protect you if you’re far away. So, prepare to abandon your home and start living on a luxurious island. You can invite some of your friends and relatives, but he won’t show up himself, leaving everyone to wonder who’s your man.

• you won’t be allowed to visit certain parts of the island (like the flesh pits), because he doesn’t want to risk being exposed. All these rooms are well hidden anyways, and the servants will make sure you won’t wander in those places.

• after a long and tiring day all he wants is to collapse in your arms and rest his head on your chest. He misses you so much during the day and he wished he’d include you in his activities, but most of them are they’re dangerous with a high risk of exposing yourself. Besides, some of them are also pretty disturbing (making clones) so he’ll leave you out of those.

• it’s safe to say that he lies a lot, but he’s so smooth about you that you won’t catch. It will take you a good couple of months, even years to figure out when he’s lying and not. However, he doesn’t get irritated if you catch him more often, instead, he’ll enjoy it as he’ll be forced to put more effort into his act meaning he can keep on playing with you.

• he won’t use magic to compel you. He likes when you fight back or when you call him out. It keeps him entertained.

• overall, he wants your safety, and he dreams of ruling the world with you by his side.

+ if you want to support or commission me visit this link 🤗

#mortal kombat 11 #shang tsung mk11 #shang tsung #headcanons