#which reminds me of when i dragged them to watch a horror movie with me on my bday and guess what happened there too 🤡 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alltheirdamn · 1 month

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Killing Me Softly | (Joel Miller x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 1 : Your Name

Series Summary: You've nursed a broken heart for two years. ‘Love’ felt like a foreign term, but maybe it wasn’t so far out of reach. Chap. 1 Summary: When you catch the eye of your students' dad at a school dance, he starts showing up everywhere. Rating: 18+ MDNI (for the future smut) Word Count: 6.8k Warnings: pre-outbreak AU, age gap (joel is 36 reader is 27), no smut (yet), sexual tension, flirting, pining, mentions of alcohol, language, angst, reader's last name is 'Smith' for no other purpose than the fact she is a teacher A/N: This will definitely be a slow-burn fic, so please hang tight!! Tropes include: second chance at love, strangers to lovers, secret relationship, etc. I'm actually so excited about this one, so I hope you guys stick around to see where it goes :')

Masterlist

PROLOGUE

You never thought you’d be the girl sitting at the steps of an abandoned altar with your wedding dress covered in mud from the rain.

Just minutes before you were supposed to take your first steps down the aisle, your fiancé fled. You watched the blur of his suit in the distance as he ran through the rain and left your family and friends in shock. Motionless at the back of the rows of chairs, you dropped your bouquet and stood in heartbreaking silence as the cords of the violins faded into the air. Your parents and siblings swarmed around you, trying to break the paralysis that kept your eyes locked on the vacant spot under the archway and steps of what would have been the place you said your vows. You still had them in your hand; the words scribbled neatly on a folded paper torn from your journal. You’d never get the chance to say those words aloud; he never would have deserved them, anyway.

The ring sat heavily on your finger now as you watched it glisten under the pelting rain. Your dress clung to your body in layers of silk and lace, a taunting reminder of who you had become for a man unworthy of your love and devotion.

Five years together, all stripped away in a matter of minutes.

You’d never love again.

“Everyone’s gotta do it,” Maria sighed as she stood at the student drop-off with you.

By ‘it,’ she meant chaperoning the father-daughter dance later in the week, which you seriously wanted no part of. You had been through enough school dances in your three years working at the middle school, and you were tired of watching pre-teens grinding on each other to god-awful music. You had better things to do with your Friday nights, like sitting on the couch with a pint of ice cream and a horror movie playing in the background—you’d sworn off rom-coms long ago.

“Yeah, I know,” you grumbled, waving another line of kids across the road.

You watched as they trudged across the crosswalk with their backpacks slung over their shoulders, eyes bright and broad at the realization school was over for the day. If only they were that chipper in class, maybe you’d have an easier time teaching them how to write three-point essays.

Maria chirped goodbye to each one as they passed, her cheeks pinched with a fake smile only you could recognize. You knew she loved the kids but loved the final school bell even more. You, on the other hand, hated it. The end of school was just another reminder that you’d go back to an empty home and an empty life.

Two years had passed since Bennett ran from your wedding ceremony—two years without closure or an answer. By the time you had pieced yourself together and returned home from the would-have-been ceremony, his things were gone, and the house filled with the ghost of his presence. Your in-laws went radio silent, avoiding all calls and emails from you until they eventually moved out of state and changed numbers. The hours leading up to the ceremony would forever be a mystery as to why he left, and you would spend the rest of your life fighting for an answer as to why you weren’t good enough to love.

Dragging you from your thoughts, Maria bumped you with her hip, giving you a concerned look. You shook away the memories and returned her stare with a fake smile you had mastered over the last two years. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had genuinely smiled or laughed without feeling the force of a facade washing over you. Concealing the pain of it all made it easier; maybe if you believed you were okay, you’d start feeling okay. But you never did. Not even the countless hours of therapy had helped reconcile the person you once were. Bennett had left and taken every vulnerable part of you with him, leaving nothing but a raw and broken shell in his wake.

“You’re doing it again,” Maria scolded.

“Doing what?” You asked, already aware of the answer.

“Wallowing. You really should get back out there again.”

You focused on the next grouping of kids setting out to cross the street, your hand instinctively coming up to hold the passing cars at a standstill. You plastered on a fake smile as they waved goodbye to you, and you glanced back at Maria once they finally stepped foot on the next sidewalk.

“I’m not interested,” you stated. “I’m fine on my own.”

Her eyebrow lifted as if challenging your blasé response. Your answer always remained the same, yet Maria relentlessly attempted to change your mind.

“You’ve got to at least try. What if there’s already someone out there just waiting for you?”

“Maria, I promise no one is waiting for me.”

“I wish you’d just give it a shot. You deserve to be happy.”

You had heard that phrase often over the last couple of years; a pitying tone always accompanied the words. People loved to soothe you with words that held no weight or purpose. You learned to nod along to their sympathies and turn a deaf ear to their suggestions of what you deserved.

The final round of kids made their way toward the line of parents waiting in their cars, and you followed Maria back to your classrooms to clean up before leaving for the day. Her words stuck with you on the quiet drive home; the radio wasn’t enough to drown out that taunting voice in your head reminding you that you’d never be enough.

Your single-story house was nestled into an older neighborhood of Austin, only a handful of miles from the middle school. You’d argue that the house was the best thing to come out of the failed engagement; its personality stood firm against the other houses with a vibrant shade of blue painted over its wooden panels and wrap-around porch. You spent the last few months sprucing up the front yard, planting rose bushes and trees to liven up the house. It hadn’t fixed all your problems but pacified them temporarily as you dirtied your hands in the soil.

It became second nature to shut your garage immediately after putting your car in park. You didn’t want the typical neighborly interactions or shallow conversations. You were content with living between closed doors and drawn curtains. The less of an interaction with the world, the better.

Dropping your purse and work bag on the kitchen counter, you sunk onto a barstool, staring blankly at the fridge and knowing all too well there was hardly anything inside it. You’d settle for another frozen meal and glass of wine, a typical meal these days to satisfy a hunger you no longer had. Despite the colorful kitchen cabinets, the mustard yellow couch in the living room, and the obscure wallpaper…your life was dull. How could one person suck out all the energy from another human being? How could pain last this long?

You stabbed a fork into the TV dinner meal before you and wondered if you’d ever feel happy again.

You managed to survive another week of teaching, only to now be standing in the shadows of the school gymnasium, nursing an overly sweet fruit punch. The PTA had done a decent job of turning the space into a somewhat realistic dance floor: string lights hung corner to corner of the ceiling, a DJ booth in the center of the basketball court, and colorful balloons circled the air. You spotted a few of your students dancing with their fathers, their eyes squeezed shut from their too-wide smiles and bubbling laughter. A foreign ache in your chest reminded you how you would have had a father-daughter dance at your wedding. Your father even took it upon himself to brush up on dance lessons to sway you across the floor to some overly emotional song. As corny as it was, you had been looking forward to that moment throughout your engagement.

“Look who got all dolled up!” Maria hollered as she strolled over, fruit punch in hand.

“I would hardly call this dolled up,” you said, tugging at the hem of your dress.

You only had a handful of dresses in your closet, this particular one being a flowy black cocktail dress with a halter top and ruffled skirt. It was barely passing the school dress code, so you decided to pair it with a low kitten heel to try and deter the admin’s scrutiny. You did, however, spend a little more time than usual on your makeup and hair, hoping if you looked pretty, then maybe you’d feel it, too.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Maria sighed.

“You look great,” you said, sidestepping her lecture.

Maria had chosen a plum floor-length maxi dress decorated with embroidered blue flowers. Her curly hair was pinned in a bun, and several sparkly barrettes were clipped to the side. Her makeup was no different from usual: a rosy red lip and simple mascara with a hint of blush on her cheeks.

“Really, Maria. You do.”

“Well, thank you,” she blushed, looking back toward the room full of bodies dancing.

Your eyes followed hers, settling on the duos as they swayed to a slow song. Every father was dressed up in some sort of button-up or the occasional suit except for one—the same one who happened to be twirling around your student, Sarah Miller. You nudged Maria, pointing secretly at them with a questioning glance.

“Is that her dad?” You asked.

He wore a basic cotton T-shirt, jeans, and dirty work boots. There was barely any thought behind his appearance as if he had rolled up to the school right after a long shift at work, forgoing any effort or care. Some part of you hated him for it. The least he could do was get dressed up for a silly school dance, especially when Sarah wore a lavender tulle dress that complimented her olive skin tone.

“Yup,” Maria elongated the word. “That’s Joel Miller.”

“Sure looks like he doesn’t care to be here,” you grumbled.

Maria barked a laugh, looking at you through narrowed eyes.

“As opposed to you?” She questioned. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you bitching about this dance all week long?”

“Well, at least I put some effort into my looks tonight,” you defended.

You glanced back at Sarah, seeing her father twirl her one last time. You caught a glimpse of his face for the first time in the flow of his movements. Messy dark curls framed his head, curling in every which way as if he’d run his hand through them a million times. Even from a distance, you could see the patchy beard and short mustache covering the lower half of his face, alongside the several creases around his eyes as he smiled. And his eyes… They looked like big brown saucers under the lights, reflecting a genuine softness as he watched his daughter dance.

And then they snapped up to meet your gaze through the crowd as if you had silently called out to him. Everything slowed around you for a moment as he studied you from afar, his eyes drifting down your body and back up with a hint of a smile teasing his lips. A rush of heat crawled up your neck, and you broke the eye contact between you. Maria cleared her throat beside you, tearing you away from the man holding your sincere interest.

“What was that?” Maria chirped.

You shook your head, glancing between her curious face and the dancefloor. Joel had since moved on, steering Sarah toward the refreshment table. He never once looked back at you, which left you unexplainably disappointed. For a moment in time, someone looked at you and saw you.

“I–I don’t know,” you stuttered. “Probably nothing.”

“It looked like something.”

You turned to face Maria, a scowl twisting up your lips entirely. You were tired of her pushing nonexistent things on you, and that’s what this was— nonexistent. Whatever moment between you and Joel had gone as quickly as it came. You were done with the night and standing among so many cheerful people. You couldn’t stand it any longer.

“I think I’m going to take off,” you announced, placing your half-drunk fruit punch on the table behind you.

Maria was defeated, knowing you'd still leave no matter what she said. Stalking out of the gymnasium, you grabbed your purse from the teacher's booth and booked it to your car with your heels in your hands. You carefully walked along the sidewalk toward your car, catching a conversation drifting through the wind between the other vehicles.

“...Dad, you promised we’d watch movies tomorrow!”

“I know, sweetheart, but Uncle Tommy needs help on the job sight.”

You hid between two cars, listening to their voices bounce back and forth. It wasn’t until you peeked out to see the two figures that you realized it was Sarah and her father, Joel. For fucks sake. You tiptoed around the car's bumper beside you, attempting to make a getaway before either of them saw you. You must have done a terrible job because Sarah called your name as you edged closer to your car.

“Miss Smith!”

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself.

With your purse in one hand and heels in the other, you turned toward them with your rehearsed fake smile. Sarah was standing beside her dad—Joel—a small smile shining up at you. You knew her usual upbeat personality in class, always laughing and joking with other kids. She was an A+ student, too, and her work showcased her smartness. But in her father's shadow, a distinct sadness clouded her eyes.

“Hello, Sarah! How did you like the dance?” You asked.

“It was really fun,” she grinned, forcing her smile wider. You saw through it.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Joel cleared his throat, extending a large hand toward you. You blinked at his open palm, afraid of making that same startling eye contact as you had in the gymnasium. Shuffling your purse into your other hand, you took his into yours, focusing on the warmth of his grip crawling up your skin. His fingers dwarfed your own, tightening around your hand until you were forced to look up finally.

“S’nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Smith,” he said, his thick Southern accent shining through.

“Miss Smith,” you corrected. It was hard to hide the bitterness in the statement.

“Miss Smith,” he echoed. “I’m Joel, Sarah’s dad.”

His eyes still hadn’t left yours, their piercing stare making you shiver despite the September humidity. You pulled your hand away, overly aware of how his fingers lingered a moment too long. Shifting your weight from one leg to another, you were starting to feel the asphalt dig into the soles of your feet.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Miller,” you replied.

“Joel,” he insisted.

You nodded politely, giving him another faltering smile. Hauling your purse over your shoulder, you said a soft goodbye to them and bolted to your car. In the confines of the driver's seat, you rested your head against the wheel, inhaling deeply as you steadied the nerves inside your body. Why did such a simple interaction light up your body with emotions you had spent so long suppressing? And why did Joel’s smile haunt you even when your eyes were shut?

Forcing your keys into the ignition, you tore out of the school parking lot and back to the confines of your tiny blue home.

The weekends were usually filled with nothing more than grading papers and lesson planning. The coffee beside you on the kitchen counter had gone cold hours ago as the morning sunlight faded into the afternoon. Through tired eyes, you glanced up at the oven clock: 2 pm. You needed a break from reading through piles of essays, and your fridge desperately required replenishing. Grabbing your keys off the counter, you forfeited any plans of changing out of your sweat set and headed to the supermarket.

The packed parking lot and crowded store were daunting reminders of why you typically decided to leave your fridge vacant. But as you pushed your shopping cart down each aisle, you had no choice but to comply with your basic human needs and stock up on miscellaneous food you would want throughout the week. Rounding down the next aisle, your eyes caught on a tall figure standing in front of the bakery section, his face scrutinizing every cake in the display case. Shit.

You tried—and failed—to maneuver your way into the next aisle, somehow crashing into an older woman’s cart, forcing her carton of eggs to fall and smash onto the linoleum floor.

“Dammit,” you hissed, crouching down to try and help them clean up the shattered eggshells.

“S’alright, sweetheart,” she assured. “I’ll just holler for a worker to come clean it up.”

“No, I—I can help,” you stammered, fingers still running over the broken yolks spreading across the floor.

“Miss Smith?” You heard a deep voice above you.

Your head snapped up to see Joel standing above you; his forehead creased with concern. The woman you had crashed into was already down the next aisle looking for a store employee, leaving you alone with a mess you had caused. Joel crouched beside you, his hands folding over yours to slow your frantic cleaning.

“It’s alright, I got it!” You snapped, pulling your hands back.

“Just tryna’ help,” he said. “That’s all.”

“It’s my fault. I can fix it.”

You had said those words to yourself many times before, and never once did they prove true.

“Someone will come and clean this up; you ain’t gotta do all that,” Joel said softly. “C’mon.”

He offered a hand, which you took reluctantly, leaving you both standing awkwardly in front of the mess. You shifted your gaze downward, too afraid to meet those deep brown eyes that had plagued you the night before.

“Hey,” Joel said in a soft tone. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled.

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

You huffed a sigh, gripping the handles of your cart to start moving. Today was going downhill rapidly, and you only wanted to go home and hole yourself away…like you always did.

“I, uh, was tryna’ pick out a birthday cake,” he rambled. “S’my birthday tomorrow, and Sarah wants to make sure I have a cake, ya’know? Any ideas on what she might like? I’m not sure if y’all ever have parties at school with sweets and all that.”

Your eyes snapped to his, a scowl forming on your face. Sarah’s dad was asking you what she liked? He was proving to be worse and worse by the second. But you were her teacher and needed to hold your tongue.

“I’m sure she’ll enjoy anything,” you said, a tight smile forming. “Happy birthday, Mr. Miller.”

His eyebrows furrowed together, clearly seeing through the mask you put on. It was infuriating how easily he had wove his way through your bloodstream, even in just twenty-four hours.

“Joel,” he insisted. “You don’t need to do all that formal stuff.”

“I kind of do,” you laughed. “You’re my students’ father; that’s how I’m supposed to address you.”

“S’all I’m sayin’ is that you’re free to call me Joel. No harm in it.”

There was a lot of harm in it.

You didn’t know what else to say, so you dipped your head to say goodbye and pushed your cart past him. You weren’t being the kindest nor the most respectful person, but your anger was at a low simmer. Any longer around him, and you might explode. You weren’t used to someone getting under your skin like he was. And the worst part was that he wasn’t even trying. You couldn’t understand why you reacted so strongly.

“Miss Smith!” Joel called, catching up as you moved down the next aisle.

You inhaled and stopped walking, mustering another fake smile to appease him. He gripped the side of your cart with a large hand, a simple gesture to keep you firmly in place. Clearly, he decided when the conversation was over.

“Yes, Mr. Miller?”

“Did I do somethin’ to upset you? ‘Cause I swear, I didn’t mean anything inappropriate by what I said back there.

“No, no, you’re fine,” you lied. “Just having a bad day, that's all.” That wasn’t a lie.

Joel ran a hand over his neck, studying you quietly for a moment. Something about the atmosphere around him was intoxicating and so fucking dangerous.

“Well, I’m sorry ‘bout that. Guess I was just tryna’ make small talk, and clearly, I ain’t doin’ a good job.”

“It’s fine—no need for apologies. I hope the cake and birthday celebration go well. I’m sure Sarah will tell me all about it on Monday.”

His eyes shifted over you again, lingering on your lips, set in a firm smile. You tried your best to hide the shiver that ran up your back as he drank you in.

“Y’probably think I’m a terrible dad, huh?” He sighed.

“What?” You blinked away the thoughts swarming your head.

“I mean, I know you probably heard us arguin’ last night, and I’m out here asking her teacher what her favorite kind of cake is. You ain’t gotta be polite about it. I know I’m not doin’ the best job,” he confessed.

“Mr. Miller, I don’t think that at all. I just think maybe asking your wife would be more helpful than asking me.”

That garnered a laugh from him, a genuine and sincere laugh.

“Never had a wife to begin with. Sarah’s mom left us when she was only a year old,” he explained. “Been doin’ it all on my own.”

“Oh.” Dammit, you really were a bitch.

“Trust me, I get it. I could do a better job, bein’ a dad and all that. I’m tryin’.”

“I think you’re doing just fine,” you said. “I’m sorry I didn’t know.”

He brushed it off, replacing the sad look cresting his eyes with a lopsided grin. You wanted to hate it, but your body reacted traitorously. You felt the softness in his gaze crawl over you, slowly replacing the anger coursing through your veins with something else…something you hadn’t felt in a long time. No one had looked at you that way since—well, since Bennett. Even if Joel was only being friendly, you were drawn to the charm he exuded. Dangerous, you reminded yourself.

“Anyway,” he continued. “I won’t hold ya’ up any longer. I hope your day gets better, Miss Smith.”

“Thank you,” you replied. “And Happy birthday, again.”

Joel’s eyes settled on your lips again as you talked, and you felt your cheeks warm under his gaze. His eyes flicked back up to yours, a flash of something behind them, and you were ready to bolt. He muttered a thank you and left you standing in a vacant aisle, your hands still covered in egg yolks and your mind reeling.

It was hard to maintain your good mood once Monday rolled around. Seeing Sarah sitting in class was an unwelcome reminder of your interaction with Joel on Saturday, and you had to refrain from overstepping boundaries and asking about his birthday. She didn’t need to know you cared, even though you struggled not to care. You wondered what kind of cake he decided on, how old he turned if he blushed when she sang Happy Birthday. Every thought burned a hole in your head that you tried to patch up and forget.

The final bell rang for the day, and the kids began to pack up in a rush. You straightened out the papers lining your desk, avoiding eye contact with Sarah as she slung her backpack over her shoulders and lined up to leave. Grabbing your whistle and bottle of water, you followed them toward the front gates, taking your usual place alongside Maria—who was overly chipper for a Monday.

“Soooo,” she prodded. “How was your weekend?”

“Uneventful,” you lied, walking with her to the crosswalk.

“You really need to go out and have fun! You’re young, and you need to enjoy your 20s!” She exasperated.

“Maria, I’m 27,” you groaned. “My 20s are practically over.”

She folded her arms over her chest, leveling you with a heavy glare. Maria was in her late 40’s and clearly exuded a motherly-type attitude. You shifted your focus to the kids crossing the road, watching as they reunited with their parents.

“We go out on Wednesdays for Happy Hour! Join us this week,” she suggested.

“I don’t know,” you sighed.

“Come on!” Maria pressed. “If you hate it, I’ll never ask you to go out with us again.”

There was no point in arguing with her, so you relented and agreed to one night out. A few drinks and hours of mindless conversation could be good for you. It would be better than sitting in front of the TV with a bland meal and another glass of wine.

You managed to evade all thoughts of Joel somehow the next two days, putting all your time and energy into prepping your students for their first test of the year. Lesson planning and preparation took up your free period and late evenings, leaving you little room to think about those brown eyes and disarming smile. It was Wednesday evening, and you were knee-deep in your closet, trying to find an outfit for Happy Hour. You had changed at least five times, discarding every top and skirt onto your bedroom floor. Eventually, you gave up, settling on tight jeans, a flowy red blouse, and black flats. You left your hair in wavy curls over your shoulders and simple makeup to balance everything out.

The group took their Happy Hour rituals to a local dive bar on the outskirts of town, a row of motorcycles and trucks lining the entrance. You felt a bit out of place walking into a smoke-hazed bar, with the patron's wandering eyes crawling over you, but you quickly picked out the huddle of teachers in the corner laughing over a round of beers. They welcomed you with bright smiles and hellos, offering to buy your first drink. After about an hour and a few drinks, you felt warm and far more relaxed. Conversations about quarterly goals and admin meetings flowed over the table, each teacher complaining about something. You chimed in when necessary, keeping quiet when you had nothing to contribute. You were on your fourth beer when the girls around you started whispering low about a group of men entering the bar. You stole a peek over your shoulder, eyes settling on the last person you wanted to see.

Joel Miller.

He had on his usual simple work attire, the fabric of his cotton shirt stretched out over his broad chest. His neck was tanned, most likely from working outdoors, and his hair was just as unruly as you remembered. The man beside him, shorter but with similar features, clapped Joel on the back and steered him towards the bar. You lowered your head, taking a longer gulp of your drink to try and steady your nerves. Of all fucking places, he had to be here.

“He’s just so handsome, isn’t he?” Maria nudged you, tossing back a look towards Joel.

You shrugged, feigning disinterest. Joel was handsome, but no one needed to know how you felt. Because what you felt was very, very confusing.

“He’s my students’ father, Maria.”

She rolled her eyes, swirling the contents of her drinks before taking a sip.

“Okay, and? There’s nothing inappropriate about dating a student’s parent.”

“Yes, there is,” you snapped. “And I’m not even considering dating him.”

“But you think he’s attractive,” she stated.

You didn’t want to respond to that, knowing the warmth in your cheeks was already enough of a giveaway. If you shrunk far enough into yourself, you might go unrecognized the rest of the night.

Maria thankfully dropped the subject, returning to the conversation around the table. After another hour, the ladies started to trickle out of the bar and home for the night. You, on the other hand, still had to wait a bit longer until the alcohol phased out of your body. Which meant you were sitting alone in the same space as Joel. You could feel his eyes on your back the longer you sat there, and to your detriment, decided to steal a glance over your shoulder. Joel’s eyes raked over your body, returning your stare with a soft, welcoming smile. Shit.

You watched as he slipped off the barstool, waltzing towards you with a beer clasped in his large hand. You tried so hard not to notice his thick fingers wrapped around the bottle, and you most definitely tried not to think of what his fingers would feel like inside—

“Miss Smith,” he greeted, silencing your awful thoughts.

“Mr. Miller,” you said.

“Are all these formalities necessary in a bar?” he teased.

“A couple of drinks won’t change my mind.”

Joel slid into the seat beside you without an invitation, his arm brushing against yours as he settled into the stool. It was instinct to flinch away, afraid of the reaction his touch would cause to your body.

“What will change your mind?” he pressed, keeping a steady gaze on you.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, deciding to change the subject. “How was your birthday?”

Joel ran a hand through his hair, that stupid lopsided grin forming on his lips.

“Can’t say I love gettin’ old, but celebratin’ was sure nice.”

“And how old are you, Mr. Miller?”

“Ripe age of thirty-six, Miss Smith,” he grinned.

“What cake did you choose?” you asked, watching him take a long sip of his beer.

“Vanilla. Everyone’s gotta love vanilla, right?”

Was he… flirting with you?

You’d blame your following response on the beers coursing through your bloodstream, but truthfully, you just wanted to play along, even only for a moment.

“Hmm, I don’t know. I don’t always love vanilla, Mr. Miller.”

Joel’s eyes darkened, falling to your lips as you took another drink. It was bold and stupid of you to say that, but at this point, you didn’t care.

“What other flavors do you like?”

He leaned forward in his chair, his thigh pressing against yours. The heat of his body and the smell of smoke on his clothes was a dangerous combination for your self-restraint.

“I have a few guilty pleasure flavors,” you smirked.

Joel’s hand damn near crushed the bottle when you said those words, his entire body tensing beside you. You couldn’t care at that moment about how you spoke; the drinks started speaking for themselves. You hadn’t dared to flirt with a man since Bennett left, too afraid of what falling in love again might do to you. But, for some reason, flirting with Joel felt so simple. He was older than you, and maybe that piqued your interest, knowing he was far more mature than anyone else you had considered.

“Indulge me, Miss Smith,” he whispered.

“I think I’ll leave it a mystery,” you whispered in return. “I’ve already said too much as it is.”

“I reckon you ain’t said enough,” he countered.

Heat flared through your neck and face as he leaned in closer, his face only inches from yours. This had gone too far. You had broken any rules you had previously set in place, and now you were dancing on a fragile line between professionalism and indecency.

Glancing at the clock above the bar, you watched as the hands ticked closer to midnight. Just like in the fairytales, your time was up. Back to reality.

“It’s getting late,” you started. “I should get home.”

Joel’s demeanor shifted, and his grin faltered as he watched you rise from the barstool. He brushed his hand over your arm, barring you from walking away.

“Not real sure if you should be drivin’ home yet, Miss Smith. Y’had a few drinks tonight,” Joel protested.

“How do you know? Were you watching me?”

“Gotta make sure my daughter's teacher is safe. Who else’s gonna make sure she gets straight A’s?”

He was trying to make light of the situation, but you knew better. You knew he had been watching you since he had arrived; his attention had never been on his group of friends.

“I assure you, I’m fine,” you argued. “You go enjoy your night with your friends, Mr. Miller.”

Joel’s brows furrowed as he considered you. His hand still lingered on your arm, thick fingers flexing against your skin. You glanced between his hand and his eyes, trying to make sense of his intentions. This was far past a coincidental run-in; this was a strange desire out of reach.

“Can I drive you home at least?” He asked.

“I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

“Can I at least drive behind you to make sure you make it alright?” He offered.

You looked back toward the bar, seeing the man he walked in with staring at you with an apparent scowl.

“I don’t think that’s fair to your friend,” you said.

Joel peered around you and huffed loudly.

“That’s my brother, Tommy. S’all good, he’s probably ready to hit the road, too.”

“He doesn’t look too happy.”

“He’s fine,” Joel grumbled.

Tommy noticed you both staring at him and decided to join the mix. He walked up with a grin despite the scowl he had just worn and extended his hand to you.

“I’m Tommy. Joel’s brother.”

“Hi, I’m Sarah’s teacher.” You gave him a quick shake and tried to sidestep to leave.

“Wait!” Joel called out.

“I’m okay, Mr. Miller,” you tossed over your shoulder. “Be safe tonight.”

You made a beeline for the door, hoping to escape him before he reeled you back in. You let yourself float in his atmosphere for too long, testing the waters you knew were off-limits. There was still an alcohol-induced haze lingering in your head, but the sooner you could leave, the better. Tomorrow would come with a headache and a post-drunken clarity to put you back on the right track. You needed to steer clear of Joel before you slipped up and allowed another man inside the walls you built.

You attempted to retrieve your keys from your purse, only to fumble them out of your hands and onto the dirt ground of the parking lot.

“Fuck,” you groaned.

As you bent to pick them up, footsteps crunching on the ground grew closer. You already knew who it was.

“Miss Smith,” Joel’s voice sounded pained.

“I’m fine!” you shouted, whipping your head around to find him nearly toe-to-toe with you.

The moonlight above you illuminated his brown eyes, which darkened the longer he looked down at you. You shrunk away, letting your body hit the driver's side of your door while Joel stepped closer.

“Please. You shouldn’t be drivin’ right now. Lettin’ you leave like this wouldn’t be right of me.”

Your only focus was on his lips as he talked. The plushness of his lips enticed you, leaving you imagining how soft they’d feel pressed against yours. Your control was slipping, and the alcohol was pulsing faster in your veins.

“You’re not going to give up, are you?” You wondered aloud.

Joel looked at you like he knew the layers of the question. He knew what battle you were fighting inside and saw the fear plastered on your face.

“No,” he whispered softly.

Your eyes bounced between his eyes and his lips, trying to grasp the moment's weight. You needed to be firm and say no; your future self would thank you for it. Gripping your keys, you exhaled and turned towards your car door.

“Have a good night, Mr. Miller,” you tossed over your shoulder.

The warmth of his body pressed against your back, the smell of smoke and liquor wrapping around you and enveloping you in a cocoon of temptation. Joel’s hands reached around to grab your keys from your shaking hand, dangling them between you and the car.

“M’taking you home, Miss Smith. Ain’t gonna argue anymore,” he said as his mouth fell to the shell of your ear.

“I’m—.”

“Don’t,” he interjected. “Go to my truck.”

He had the exact tone you did when you reprimanded your students, but the deep rasp of his accent made it all the more inviting. You didn’t want to listen to his demands, but you were getting nowhere successfully. Joel sidestepped to free you of the cage he had you in, watching you intently as you sulked to his truck. It wasn’t hard to know which one it was; only a few cars were left, and the truck exuded the same masculinity as the owner.

“What about my car?” You protested, folding your arms across your body as you leaned against the truck.

“I’ll give Tommy the keys,” he said. “He’ll drive it behind us.”

You were about to ramble another slew of protests when Joel yanked the passenger side door open and tilted his head toward the interior.

“Get in.”

His tone left little room for arguing, so you did as he said without another word. Despite the anger radiating off his body, Joel shut the door softly before heading back into the bar.

You fidgeted with the seatbelt, the press of it against your chest not strong enough to stabilize the rhythm of your heartbeat. You were in his truck, meaning you’d be alone with him for the next several minutes. It was enough to force a roll of nausea through your stomach. Leaning your head against the window, you watched him reemerge from the bar with Tommy in tow. There was a clear expression of annoyance etched on Tommy’s face, all at the cost of your own stubbornness.

Joel tossed him the keys to your car before rounding the truck's hood and climbing into the driver’s seat. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, so you kept your eyes on the road as it blurred past with each passing mile.

“Where do you live?” he asked, passing through another vacant green light.

You rambled off your address, still keeping your gaze steady on the streetlights as they passed by your window. He didn’t attempt to make small talk after that, and the silence settled onto you like a heavy blanket. Your control of consciousness was slipping the longer you sat beside him, but you willed yourself awake. The streets started to become familiar, and you shifted in your seat. Taking a risk, you looked at Joel, finding him white-knuckling the wheel with his jaw clenched.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I—I don’t go out and drink normally. I should have just stayed home tonight.”

“S’okay,” he said, glancing at you. “Just don’t get why you’re so stubborn about askin’ for help. First at the supermarket and now at the bar. I don’t get it.”

A rush of tears stung your eyes, and you quickly looked away, trying to blink them back before he noticed. Joel’s hand fell onto your thigh, sending a jolt of shock through your body. You wanted to shy away from it, but there was no use in fighting at this point; you were already failing miserably.

“Hey,” he prodded. “Shit, I’m sorry. Don’t cry, alright?”

You swiped away the tears running from your eyes, schooling your emotions back into a state of numbness. Your little blue house came into view, and you pointed a tired finger toward it to guide him in the right direction.

“This is me,” you sniffled.

“Big ol’ house, Miss Smith. Y’live here alone?”

“Yeah,” you exhaled. “Thanks for the ride, Mr. Miller.”

“I really wish you’d stop callin’ me that,” he sighed, parking his car at your home's fence.

“It’s all formalities.”

“Yeah, I know. I just think after tonight, we’re far past all them formalities and shit.”

Your hand lingered on the door handle as you took one last look at him. Joel’s eyes looked over you with a softness you didn’t deserve. You deserve to be happy. Maria’s words rang out in your head the longer you stared at him. ‘Happy’ was a foreign word to you now, out of reach and out of your control.

“Can I just know one thing?” He asked.

You nodded, your fingers wrapped around the door handle.

“What’s your name?”

Blame the alcohol…blame your vulnerability…but you told him.

#joel miller x reader #joel x female reader #joel x f!reader #joel miller x teacher!f!reader #joel miller fanfic #joel tlou #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #pre outbreak!joel

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imagines--galore · 11 months

Note

Hello! Can I request a fake dating fic with Clark with coworker and best friend reader please :)

Pairing: Superman(Clark Kent) x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. A/N: Oooooooooooo I ADORE the fake-dating trope! Meep! Also vote for the second part here.

"Your mother thinks what?!"

Several nosy reporters poked their heads up from where they had been working on their latest scoops. Only to be greeted with the sight of you dragging Clark by the sleeve of his shirt and into the empty conference room. To anyone new it would've been an unusual sight, seeing someone as tall as Clark Kent be dragged by someone at least a head or two shorter them him. But the workers at the Daily Planet were used to seeing the two of you together.

Once inside the conference room and assured that no one else would hear you or Clark, you turned you attention back to him

"Keep your voice down!" You huffed, before giving a small shrug. "And its not a big deal."

"A big deal?! Y/n, you lied to your mother." The corner of your mouth twitched and you were unable to meet the disappointed look in his blue eyes. "I didn't lie to her per se."

Clark rolled his eyes, arms crossing over his broad chest. "Well you didn't correct her either."

Pouting slightly you threw him an accusing look. "Yeah well, its your fault isn't it? You shouldn't have gotten me such an expensive gift for my birthday! She just saw the necklace and when she asked who gave it to me I said you did, and then she just assumed we were going out and I.......I didn't correct her." Your voice trailed off, seeing that you weren't really going to win this argument.

At the mention of the necklace, your fingers had unconsciously lifted to run the tips of them along the piece of jewelry that you had taken to wearing since Clark gave it to you.

It was truly a gorgeous piece, and now counted as one of your most prized possessions. Not because it was probably expensive, but because Clark had been the one to give it to you. His gaze dropped to your throat as well, where the necklace lay just between your collarbone.

"And now she has invited us over this weekend to meet me?" Clark confirmed, finally meeting your eyes once more to which you gave a nod. "Well she wants to meet the new beau, her words not mine." You were quick to clarify, your eyes widening in horror at the word that had slipped you. "So you're suggesting we spend an entire evening together, and pretend that we're dating?"

You gave a little flinch. "Sounds cliché, I know." Clark only shook his head. "I should really stop you from watching those rom-coms you're always crying over." He grumbled under his breath. "Too many romantic ideas in your head makes for these kinds of situations."

You bristled. "Hey! I'll have you know I watch classical rom-coms, none of those new hallmark rom-coms that makes you wanna puke." You had a particular taste when it came to the movies you watched, although your best friend's taste was significantly different then yours.

Yes.

Best friends.

You and Clark were best friends who were now being roped into fake-dating. Why? Because you were too much of a coward to come out and tell the truth to your over-bearing hard to please mother.

This would either go really good or turn into a complete disaster.

————————–

A few hours later you and Clark were both at his apartment, sharing the food you had ordered to bribe him further.

"Well I suppose we should start setting the rules and such? At least thats what they do in movies." You suggested, once the Kryptonian had managed to go through half the food. A well-fed Clark was a happy Clark, you had learned long ago.

"Remind me again why am I doing this for you?" He asked, digging into your takeout container to steal one your chicken pieces. You smacked his chopsticks away with your own, pulling the container out of his reach.

"Because I'm buying you dinner here, and also because you love me." You stated in such a off-handed manner as you stuffed your mouth with chicken that you didn't even notice how Clark stiffened at your side at your words.

Polishing off the food you began to speak. "They'll be coming in a couple days, so dress nice, and appropriately. Make sure to wear your coat. I know you have an internal heater given that you're freakin' E.T." You gestured to his overall physique, to which he rolled his eyes at you. "But us puny humans get cold a lot, so coat, hat, and gloves."

"I know, Y/n." He said in an exasperated tone, to which you grinned. You loved messing with him, acting all delicate and weak just to tease him about his strength and powers. It was all in good fun though.

"She already knows how we met, and will probably ask really nosy questions. Dad will just sit there quietly and let her do all the talking. Besides he already likes you so you don't have to win him over." Clark looked up from where he had been pouring himself a drink.

"He does?" You smiled at him. His blue eyes were so hopeful and the smile he wore was so adorable. Did it really matter to him that your parents liked him?

You shrugged. "Well yeah. I mean I did tell him how you helped me out with the stalker situation, without telling him that you were Superman, and he was really grateful. Said it was good that I had someone sensible looking out for me." You poked your tongue out at the triumphant look in his eyes. "I agree with your father, between the two of us one of us should be the sensible one."

Raising an eyebrow at him you leaned towards him, arms wrapped around your legs which you had pulled up on the couch. Your eyes narrowed. "Remind me which one of us flies around wearing a cape and goes around actually looking for trouble?"

Clark gave a smug smile, leaning back against the couch and resting the back of his head on his forearm. "At least I can handle trouble. If I didn't, I couldn't have handled you all these years now could I?"

You scoffed, though you were unable to fight off the smirk that pulled at your lips. "Oh please. You? Handle me? I'd like to see you try."

"Is that an invitation?"

"Do you honestly need one Kent?"

"I am a gentleman Y/L/N. Of course I do."

"Alright fine! If you pull off convincing my mother we're dating, I'll let you handle me however you want."

Translation: You would do whatever he asked you to do.

"And if I loose, I'll take you up to the Watch Tower again."

"Sounds good! I'm due for a gossip session with Wally and Diana."

He stuck out his hand. "May the best of us win." You grinned, grasping his hand within your own and giving it a firm shake. "Oh, I will."

Clark only smirked. When it came to betting and competitions, you both had rather competitive streaks. Sometimes he would win, and other times you were the victor. It was always fun to one-up the other.

And you had a feeling this little competition would take the cake.

————————–

The day of the dinner arrived, and you spent the entire day pampering yourself. Just because it was a fake dinner date with your parents, with your fake boyfriend, it didn't mean you couldn't be looking nice.

Good think it was a Saturday. You were meeting your parents in the evening, and Clark would be picking you up. You had only just put the finishing touches on your makeup when the bell rang. Dashing to the door, quite the feat since you were wearing heels, you pulled it open.

The sight that greeted you had your mind short-circuiting.

Both of your office attires were semi-formal at best, and at home both of you wore the worst of your clothes. And though the image of Clark as Superman was impressive enough, nothing could beat the sight that your eyes feasted on right then.

You had told him to dress nicely, and clean up. And damn, did he clean up good. Under the winter coat he had on, he was wearing a black suit that was tailored to show off his muscular body perfectly. The shirt under the jacket was a deep red, which actually looked quite good with the black tie. You had a sudden urge to tug him forward by grabbing it, but you refrained yourself.

Little did you know, Clark was battling his own inner dilemma. Seeing you standing there in the dress you had chosen for the evening. Wearing the necklace he had gotten you. You were already beautiful on a daily basis, but right then you looked absolutely stunning.

Managing to come back to the present, you gave him a quick smile. "You clean up nice Kent. Just let me grab my coat and we'll get going." You pivoted on your heel to retrieve the garment, completely missing the way his blue eyes roamed the expanse of bare skin the dress left exposed.

Tonight would be a long night for him.

————————–

"So far so good."

You heaved a sigh as you slumped into your chair, with Clark drawing gentle circles on the back of your hand. You mother had gone to the powder room while your father stepped out for a quick smoke, under the pretense of a phone call.

"I now understand where you get your perceptive nature from." He attempted to joke, recalling to all the questions your mother had thrown at the both of you over the course of the evening.

"Yes, but unlike my mother, I know when to stop." You muttered, taking yet another sip of your wine. You had topped off long ago, and were still going strong. You needed all the alcohol you could get when it came to dealing with your mother.

"Well we're just left with dessert." He pointed out as the waiter brought their choice of desserts and left. You didn't even wait for your parents to get back, starting to dig into the chocolate tart you had ordered. Clark shot you an amused glance to which you held out a spoonful of chocolatey goodness for him to taste. He obliged, never once breaking eye contact with you. And the absolutely sinful way his mouth wrapped around the spoon had an involuntary shudder course through your entire body.

The feeling had become rather frequent since the start of the evening.

When Clark had taken your hand to help you out of the cab.

When his hand had rested against the bare skin of your exposed back.

When he had settled beside you and offered you a reassuring smile.

When you had rested a comforting hand on his thigh when your mother's words had become a little too harsh and you had defended him.

When your foot had slid to touch his under the table and had stayed there for the rest of the evening.

When you had allowed your pinkies to touch when both your hands had rested next to one another on the table.

When your eyes had met and he had recounted the time he had first met you. You had never considered the moment from his point of view, and your heart had nearly melted at what he had described.

How he had thought you were one of the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. How he adored the way you were able to call him out on his bullshit. How he could just be himself when he was around you.

It was a pity all of this was pretend.

Or was it?

As he pulled away from the spoon, your eyes drifted to his lips where a small chocolate smudge had remained. You had no idea what compelled you to reach out and gently wipe away the thick chocolate.

Only to bring the digit to your lips and licking it clean.

You definitely weren't imagining the way Clark's eyes darkened, his light blue orbs suddenly taking on a stormy sheen that had you shivering deliciously.

This had to be an award-winning performance right?

Whatever trance the two of you were in was broken by the arrival of your mother, loudly complaining about something in the powder room that wasn't to her liking. You turned your attention back to her, with Clark a little surprised that your mother had been so oblivious to the moment you and him had been having just a moment ago.

Suddenly Clark sat up straight. You frowned at him as he quickly stood and muttering something about a phone call walked out of the restaurant, just as your father returned.

He returned moments later. "I apologize everyone, but Mr. White needs me to cover a story and I need to get going right now." He said, picking up his coat from the back of his chair as he did. From the urgency in his voice you quickly deduced that it was superhero business.

"Well now!' Your mother began indignantly to which you quickly cut her off. "The life of a reporter. Always on the clock." You said with a small laugh as you stood as well.

"Enjoy the rest of the evening everyone. And don't worry about the bill." Clark added with a charming smile. He was doing that on purpose, you knew.

He turned his attention to you and you smiled at him. "Well go do your job then and be careful." You straightened the collar of his coat. He nodded. "Yes ma'am."

Before you could say anything else he quickly leaned down, cupping the side of your face, to press a chaste kiss to your lips. It was a simple brush of the lips, and yet you felt it to the very tips of your toes.

It was over just as soon as it had begun.

"I'll see you later." He muttered as he pulled back before he was off.

You stood there for a few more seconds before slowly sliding into your seat once more.

"I suppose your taste in men has improved significantly Y/n." You heard your mother say. You glanced up at her, still a little lost from having Clark kiss you.

"He's a good one, honey." Your father said gently, giving your hand a small pat.

Just then the big screen television that had been playing some program in the background was interrupted with some breaking news. News that showed Superman and the Justice League fighting yet another threat to Earth.

And while the rest of the patrons and staff clamored to get closer to the screen your eyes never left Clark's face as the camera showed him as Superman, as he rescued civilians.

"He is." You softly spoke, more so to yourself then your parents, as you smiled at the next thought.

Seems he won your little bet this time around.

#superman x reader #clark kent x reader #superman x y/n #clark kent x y/n #superman #clark kent x oc #dc #henry cavill

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wolfiafuntime · 5 months

Text

Trick-or-Treat Trip

Headcanons in which you go trick-or-treating in the human world with Lucifer, Mammon, Asmo, and Beel

Published: November 24, 2023

Words: 880 (205 per character save for Beel; his got a bit away from me)

Pages: 2.5 (0.7 per character)

Lucifer:

Neither of you know how you managed to convince him to go Trick-or-Treating with you. Let alone go up to the Human World to do it. But you did!

You spent the majority of Halloween day getting into your costume. Because Lucifer was coming, he had made sure that whatever you were going as would be one of the best. 'One of' because his costume- a Vampire one- would also be the best. It was something you couldn't deny after seeing it.

Before you left, you set up a candy bowl with the classic 'only take one' sign. And to make sure that other trick-or-treaters complied, he cast a mild curse on the bowl that would scare anyone who tried to take more.

The actual trick-or-treat trip was very fun. While Lucifer didn't (he refused to--) bring a candy bag of his own, it didn't matter. You were just glad he came, and glad the various people you visited gave you candy. You had gotten a pretty good haul by the end of the night, with the only 'bad' trick-or-treat-ee giving you money. Lucifer smiled as he imagined what Mammon's reaction would've been if something like that happened for him.

Mammon:

Free candy?! Sign him up! It doesn't matter if you asked him this a few days before Halloween, or a few weeks. He's going to demand that you summon him, so you two can go shopping for the best pair of costumes. If you do summon him, know that he'll refuse to leave until Halloween has passed. And that, unfortunately, won't happen, because Lucifer is going to come and drag him back to the Devildom in a few hours. Maybe several, if you can talk the first-born into it.

But don't worry! You can just summon Mammon again when Halloween actually comes. You'll spend the day watching horror movies-- something the beloved idiot suggested himself-- and getting dressed up in your costume(s).

He'll be so jumpy during the trick-or-treat trip. Every fake hand that jumps out of a candy bowl. Every person pretending to be a manikin. He'll even be scared of the kids screaming with joy! You laughing at him won't help; it'll only fluster him. But don't worry, all fear and embarrassment will leave him when you get to that one house that gives out crappy presents. A toothbrush?? Seriously?!

Asmodeus:

Isn't surprised that you invited him to come, but that doesn't make him any less excited. Similarly to Mammon, he's demanding you summon him, so you can go costume shopping together. But there's no way you guys are dressing as anything scary! Why? Because those costumes require masks, blood, atrocious makeup, and/or ugly outfits.

You summon him again the morning of Halloween, you guys spend a good few hours picking between the costumes you bought a few days prior. These consist of a nurse and doctor, a maid and master, and a princess and knight. (Can you guess who's who?) After choosing, you spend the rest of the day getting dressed up. When you're finally done, Asmo sets up a bucket of nail polish next to your bucket of candy. He's got a pretty sign for it two, covered in glitter and hearts, asking for only one to be taken.

He isn't jumpy like Mammon when he gets jumpscared, but he'll still jump into your arms. He, of course, preens from any compliments he gets, and always tries fishing for more. Gets so salty at any crappy treat-givers, and will definitely use his charm on them.

Beelzebub:

A night of constant candy? With you? That sounds like paradise to him. You're gonna have to remind him to get a costume. And you're probably gonna have to do it a couple times, because every time he goes shopping for one, he gets distracted by food sales. But don't worry, he'll manage to hold off his hunger when you tell him that only people in costumes get candy.

The day of Halloween, it doesn't take him long to get into his werewolf costume. So, depending on what you're going as, and how many details there are, he'll probably be waiting for you to finish. He could help you if you want? If not, then he'll be munching away on the bags of candy you bought for him. And on that note, you're gonna have to command him to stay away from one of the bags if you want to set up a free candy bucket. Because it'll be long gone by the time you leave.

Actually trick-or-treating is pretty peaceful and fun! His bag remains empty throughout the night, because everything that goes into it goes into his stomach shortly after. As for the crappy-treat-giver? You warned him about them, but he still goes into a rampage. You have to command him to stop and walk away, and he only calms down when the next person gives him some more candy.

On the bright side, you think the fake "treat-giver" is going to be handing out actual treats next year.

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devourers-of-god · 2 months

Note

Hii :D

for first i wanted to say that i love your blog and the way you describe the characters!

can i request HC of the characters on valentine's day? if you don't want to do it to everyone, it could be just Travis and Sal. i'll let you decide there, take as much time as you want and if you don't want to do it, everything is fine. (i hope i wrote it well, it's a bit difficult for me to write in english)

HIII! thank you so much for the compliments it is very heart warming :( SOrry im late about your request HAHAH I will indeed do Sal and Travis only,,, you know me so well anon ,,, You wrote everything perfectly !! I couldn't have guessed if you didn't tell me :) ILY REQUESTS ARE OPEN PEOPLE! LOOK ALIVE! /ref but plz everyone, read my carrd In my bio before submitting.. its upsetting to see asks that doesn't meet my rules...

SAL AND TRAVIS ON VALENTINES DAY

Type : Headcanons

Warnings: None! Mostly Fluff sorry y'all I don't write nsfw

SAL

= Sal prepared some things for you by the gentle help of Ashley, because sal didn't know how to please you and Ash is your best friend.

= I think Sal would make you a valentines boo basket like the ones you see on TikTok. Filled with your favourite chocolates and CDS, cute slippers, horror movie blanket, jewelry and some surprises connected to your interests.

= He would come by your apartment/house and wear ''clean clothes'' ( Jeans he washed the night before and his favourite shirt lol), with his nails freshly painted of a beautiful black colour.

= He also brought movies to watch, romantic ones you say? Hell nah this Sal Fisher, he brought horror movies that you would enjoy.

= You were so happy by his gifts that you jumped right into his arms and dragged him into your room, he cuddled and kissed you A BUNCH because boy was he happy his partner liked what he bought them. He filled your entire face with kisses, when Sal started he couldn't stop.

= After all the affection was received, you two were stuck on the couch, under your new blanket, cuddling and watching movies. For the occasion Sal took off his mask, only if no one was there that day, which made you very happy and flustered to see your lover's face after a long day.

TRAVIS (ARGHBHHH EEEK ^0^DNWAODNSNF)

= Travis already struggles with showing affection, it was very hard to warp his mind around celebrating for the first time in his life Valentines day with his boyfriend.

= He also had to ask Ashley because she's your best friend after all, she recommended following his heart and doing something classic to not stress him too much. And that he did!

= My sweet boy put on a suit for you and bought flowers, not just any flowers tho, Travis believe in flower language. Which is that every single flower has a different meaning when given. He carefully chose Daisies (I truly love you), Red Carnation (My heart aches for you), Honey Suckles (Devoted affection) and lastly, Salvia Red (forever mine). Yes he could've chosen classic roses but he felt like you might think that he didn't put in any effort.

= This boy is an hopeless romantic and decided to write you a letter about his true feelings since he was so bad at expressing them in front of you, words couldn't leave his mouth but they were flowing with the help of his fountain pen.

= He then picked up gourmet chocolates, a bit expensive but he thought it would make you happy. Ashley suggested that he makes a mixtape of your favourite songs on a cassette since you had a walkman. He made 2 mixtapes, one of your favourites and the other one is songs that reminds him of you.

= He showed up to your door in the evening and your jaw dropped, seeing your boyfriend in a suit made you feel things you've never felt before. He felt super happy by your reaction and the letter was so profound it made you cry. You also knew flower language and you were basically bawling because of the effort (and money) he spent on you.

OKAY DONE ! you guys can see that I prefer travis over sal oops,,, I hope everyone still loved it! plz plz plz send me things because im desperate.... I love you all guys.......

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dragon-chica · 1 year

Text

Enid Sinclair Relationship Headcanons

Fandom: Wednesday

Sweetest, wonderful, most sunshine girlfriend ever that makes every day so much better by being around her.

Enid is very affectionate, hand holding, hugs, cuddling, physical touch is her #1 love language.

Also really likes the idea of love languages and wants to know yours! Says you're compatible even if the chart doesn't agree, she also just likes trying to guess other peoples' with you.

Doesn't think she's the jealous type but someone stole her spot next to you and she growled at them.

Was happy as soon as they left! Slipping her hand into yours and talking as if nothing happened, you just smile at her, amused.

She loves making playlists for you! Has a playlist for every occasion, roadtrip, grocery trip, study date, and they all have super long names and will send you ones titled "because i miss you ❤️❤️❤️"

She will try to finds song you will like, and listen to your favorite songs and bands even if she really isn't into it.

She loves Taylor Swift and Harry Styles, will recreate TS music videos on tiktok using littlest pet shops.

Tries to get you to dance with her! She loves dancing in her room and having fun and does her best to get you to join. She likes dancing just for fun, and little tiktok dances, but also wants to dress up with you and try to 'recreate' romantic dancing scenes.

You send her Monsters and Men on a playlist "indie werewolf tunes"

She tries to be vague but it's very obvious she's bragging about you on her blog.

Skin care is very important!! She'll drag you to her room for facemasks and manicures, she can do some pretty impressive little nail designs on you too.

She comes up with the cutest dates! has a pinterest board dedicated to cute things you can do together and cute couple ideas.

Biggest heart eyes if you surprise her with a cute date even if it's simple like a picnic 🥺

So! Many! Cute! Nicknames! She wants you to like your nickname and have something special for you but she can't help but call you anything that comes to mind "sweatheart, honeybun, cutiepie, cupcake"

Personal Space is really not her thing and if you're okay with it she will be touching you all the time, in your bubble, leaning her head on you, just being casually cuddly.

Very into PDA but tells you she doesn't want to be cringy or 'too coupley' and explains to you how to go about that.

They're all very sweet and you tell her they seem pretty fitting for her instead, which she will argue with you on.

You call her even cuter things though, even if you're not really one for giving out nicknames. "Lovebug" is just too good not to call her.

She always tries to do things that interest you! Even if they're spooky or uncomfortable likes bugs...she looks so pained but fully puts in an effort to enjoy it if you do.

Uses emojis with every text, she is a fast texter and can go on nonstop when you're not together and suddenly your screen is a wall of at least 40% emoji to text ratio.

So many hearts and "🥺🥺" and every other sweet/cute one. She can convey such long things with emojis and you've become a pro at deciphering her hieroglyphs.

Shopping dates! Even if you don't buy much, choosing outfits for each other to try on is so much fun.

100% will buy a stuffed animal and call it your child, switching who's bed it sleeps on regularly is a must.

Movie nights! She actually likes watching horror movies that aren't too gorey, but is easily spooked. She falls for every jumpscare and her claws come out when she yelps.

Her instinct is to protect you though! Which means if you're scared or not, you'll be yanked into her lap for safely, and might get a little poked by her claws while she clings to you.

You will defend her from anything but when someone called her your golden retriever,,,you admit there wasn't much of an argument there and she was a tiny bit offended.

You send her pictures of cute things with "this reminded me of you ❤️" and you can hear her squeal from 2 corridors away.

She told you her fears of dying alone if she's never able to transform, that she would be alone all her life and no one would love her so you blurted out "You wont be alone, I love you and I'll be there."

Which made you worry because you never actually talked about the future even though you know you want to be right her the rest of your life.

She froze for a moment, staring at you with watery eyes and you really started to panic but she surged forward wrapping you in a werewolf strength hug and kept crying and thanking you.

She tried to be diplomatic when you met her family but when her mom is disappointed in her, and you, and she's really unsure if you were serious about physically fighting the hag woman, it was not a relaxing time.

Her dad likes you though, he sees how happy you make Enid and that's all he wants.

#Enid Sinclair x reader #Enid Sinclair imagine #Wednesday x reader #Wednesday imagine #my stuff

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moodywyrm · 9 months

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modern au hcs i have about the salt lake crew cuz why not i felt like sharing:

abby's secretly into cosplay but she won't admit it; manny's celebrity crush is sza; nora's a "no shoes in the house person" (she almost stabbed owen when he came over for a group get-together); mel's lowkey a disney adult and its adorable (her fav film is frozen); owen and jordan are both filmbros but in different ways - owen's the annoying kind (yk the kind 🙄) while jordan is genuinely passionate about films and film history and gives fun facts during movie nights; nick makes tiktok stitches like this one https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT88SYgkG/ ; leah's one of those drunk girls who hypes up other girls in bathrooms, like she'll see a pretty black girl with gold charms in her hair and start crying cuz she's so beautiful (abby & nora had to drag her out)

this is one of the cutest asks I've ever gotten oh my god? lemme expand on your beautiful thoughts. while I have beef with the salt lake crew, I also appreciate them and I think, had we started with them, we would have all loved or tolerated them.

abby + cosplay is so full of possibility omg. I imagine it started as an appreciation for cosplayers because she thought it was super cool! and then slowly. she started doing outfits inspired by her favorite characters. and then recreations. and then next thing she knows, she's dragging Manny to comic con to be her lil protector/buddy while she dresses up as Spiderman, or Junker Queen, or Samus. she has literally had craft nights where the crew helps her work on her cosplays. mel is the best at it, helping her form foam armor pieces. owen is passable only because he has experience building and fixing shit (the boat). Jordan is laughably bad any it but he tries <3

manny's celebrity crush is Sza AND Kali Uchis. He genuinely thinks he could pull them and, honestly, maybe he could. but abby loves telling him they're out of his league (they kinda are). he has like, Pete Davidson rizz. if that makes sense.

Nora is 100% a no shoes in the house girl. it's how she was raised! her house is fucking Pristine, man, which is honestly such feat because girly is a busy ass nursing student. and you're right about Owen! shit head wears shoes inside houses WITH CARPET. I will say rn, it's pretty much impossible to not wear shoes inside the house in my place bc we have two dogs, but we have tile so it's not as bad. however with carpet? evil. vile. Owen and his nasty ass nike sneakers tried to step onto Nora's pristine cream carpet and she nearly smacked him with a pair of tongs that had just came out of hot oil. as she should. he learned, and has never tried it again (mostly because Mel reminds him every time)

Disney adult Mel!! I know Disney adults get a lot of hate, but I feel like she'd be really sweet about it. like whenever she wants to go, she offers to pay for the others food and stuff, if they can't, she always brings them little gifts. like pins and stuff, shirts, ears, plushies!! she has a special pair of mickey ears that a frozen themed, Owen got them for her on her birthday <3 (this is me taking my powers as a writer to turn Owen into an actually good partner for Mel and not a piece of shit <3). one time, Mel got Abby to disneybound Gaston and it was so cute!! she has disneybounded as Anna and she looks so cute in it <3

the filmbros. oh god. Owen is 100% the type of guy to love Quentin Tarantino films and think they're the peak of cinema, all the while hating Jennifers Body. Jordan however, king, he loves Jennifer's Body and 100% listened to Leah and Nora spend like three hours talking about the nuances of girlhood and queerness in the movie. Definitely watched and appreciated Barbie with them, even dressed up in all pink! borrowed some of Leah's clothes to do it <3 he loves channels like Dead Meat, because I feel like he especially likes horror movies? will defend the slasher genre with his life, hates torture porn movies. big fan of sleepaway camp!

I don't know much about nick but I can say this is accurate, I feel like he also does those videos reacting to weird white people recipes? like how long does it take for them to add a block of cream cheese to the crock pot, or the weird obviously fetish content ones? and he just makes this really stoic disappointed face like. fr.

drunk girl Leah!! I imagine the salt lake crew occasionally goes clubbing, and you're so fucking right about Leah. they all get kinda tipsy, but Leah takes two shots of vodka and starts falling in love with every fem presenting person in the building. gives the good compliments too. how beautiful they look in the party lights, the shine of their hair, the twinkle of their eyes, the highlighter! the outfit! is literally fawning over every fem person she sees and Jordan is just like yeah go ahead. mostly because he knows she loyal and also, she's literally just so cute. disclaimer that it's never in the like, fetishizing wlw for men, Leah literally just compliments every girl she sees ever. especially in the bathrooms! if she sees you crying, she is the first one at your side, offering to beat up whoever made you sad, holding your hand, helping you fix your makeup, the works. drunk girl Leah is a gem to humanity and there are leagues of girls out there whose nights have been saved by this drunken sweetheart. there have been. too many times where abby has had to physically throw Leah over her shoulder to get her out of the bathroom because they need to Leave and she's starting conversations with everyone who walks through the door.

this is so cute!! thank you for this ask nonnie!! and I got your ask about it being duets and not stitches <3

#anon #abby anderson #abby anderson fluff #tlou2 owen #tlou2 mel #tlou2 nora #tlou2 manny #Manny alvarez #tlou2 nick #tlou2 jordan #tlou2 leah #tlou2 Salt Lake City crew #Salt Lake City crew #tlou2 fluff

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wisdomssdaughterr · 6 months

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PROJECT SUNSHINE CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN → A TRIP DOWN NIGHTMARE LANE

summary: steve harrington x oc

when another product of Hawkins National Laboratory escaped a long-survived nightmare alongside her sister, she crashed into one unsuspecting teenage boy and dragged him deeper into the dark mysteries that made up their hometown.

word count. 5.4k

warnings: cannon typical violence, child abuse, horror, gore, and depictions of mental illness. parts of this story were written pre-season 4 release. cannon divergence.

previous chapter ← → next chapter

A/N: happy belated stranger things day :)

Venturing back through the woods, Steve let the way with a drained Sunshine leaning on his side. Everything was quiet and still as they walked through the darkness, which was cut by their few flashlights and light chatter between the kids.

Steve kept his attention split between the woods ahead of them and the girl beside him. Blood still spilled from Sunshine’s nose, causing concern.

“Your nose is still bleeding,” he said. Sunshine didn’t seem too bothered by it. He figured she was used to it if it happened every time she used her powers, but that didn’t make him any less worried. “Is that supposed to happen?”

He had watched her use her powers against the monster last year, but that was nothing compared to what they faced only minutes ago. The fighting she had just done was insane, in Steve’s opinion. He didn’t know she had all of that in her. Not that he doubted Sunshine by any means, but he was beginning to realize she was even more superhero-like than he originally believed, which was saying something.

Using her arm that wasn’t slung over Steve’s shoulder, she reached up and wiped under her nose with a small sigh as the blood stained the sleeve of her jacket.

“I haven’t done anything like that in a while,” she said. “It should stop soon, though.”

After a slight nod, they lapsed back into silence.

Steve sighed into the cool air, watching as his breath made a little cloud in the dim light of a series of flashlights that guided their way. He tried to listen for any sign of the monsters lurking in the woods, but that was difficult to do with the chatty middle schoolers that trailed behind them.

When he woke up that morning, on Sunshine's floor, he didn’t know he’d end up trekking back through the very woods he had sworn off. He certainly didn’t think he’d be accompanied by a group of kids that he didn’t know or that they’d face an angry swarm of monsters. It all was a lot that came clear out of left field.

Steve didn’t know what they were supposed to do next, either. Trapping one monster was a feat, going up against dozens of them was impossible. They barely got out of the junkyard unscathed, and Steve worried they wouldn’t be so lucky a second time around.

“Hey,” he spoke up, breaking the stretch of silence. “Thanks for having my back, back there."

Sunshine offered him a small smile, but it was tired, and she leaned a little heavier against him. “You have my back and I have yours.” She said it as if it was a fact, and Steve supposed that was true. Of course he had her back, not that she needed any help when it came to kicking some monster ass.

A strange sense of Deja vu overcame Steve. Between the dark woods and the stranger feeling that crackled across the air throughout Hawkins, the scene felt somewhat familiar.

“You know, in a messed-up kind of way, this of reminds me of when we ran into each other last year,” he said. Even if he had been a little tipsy back then, that night was burned into his brain for a multitude of reasons.

Sunshine tilted her head as she gazed with a funny look on her face. “You mean, me looking disgusting while running from a monster in the woods?”

Steve chuckled lightly. “No, you don’t look disgusting. But you did look like you came straight out of a horror movie last year."

Even with the blood smeared under her nose and the splintered bruises forming across her nose, Sunshine didn’t look disgusting. He thought she looked cool. Her eyes still held a faint golden glow, and, despite her worn-out state, she looked more alive than she had that night.

Last year, when she was dressed in a ripped hospital gown and looked like she had been through hell and back, Steve couldn’t fathom what had happened to her or where she had come from. He still didn’t understand much about the Lab or what happened to her during her ten-year stay.

“Yet you still let me into your house?”

Steve shrugged. Looking back, his lapse of judgment ended up working out better than he could have imagined. He had one of his first best friends back in his life, and Sunshine was reunited with her family. “Well, it all worked out, didn’t it?” His life had changed rather drastically over the past year, and while it all wasn’t great, he was okay trudging through the bad parts to keep Sunshine around. “I knew what I was doing,” he joked.

Sunshine looked away from him and refocused on the eerie woods ahead of them as she spoke. “You were the first person I met outside of the Lab.” Her words were heavy, holding a weight Steve couldn't understand. “I don’t think there are many people who would have helped me the way you did.”

He wasn’t sure that was true; there were plenty of decent enough people in Hawkins. Steve was glad it was him, though. He probably wouldn’t have believed any of what went down last year if he hadn’t lived through some of it.

As he took in Sunshine’s words and studied the side of her face, it fully sunk in that, despite the shitstorm that was last year, he would do it all over again if that meant he got to reunite with Sunshine.

“I guess we both lucked out running into each other,” Steve said.

Sunshine, quietly, replied, “Yeah.”

Behind them, the trio of middle schoolers’ conversation grew impossible to drown out.

“You’re positive that was Dart?” Lucas asked.

“Yes,” said Dustin. “He had the same exact yellow pattern on his butt.”

Max, somewhat recovered from learning that monsters exist, joined the boys' conversation. “He was tiny just two days ago.”

“Well, he’s molted three times already,” Dustin sighed.

Steve threw an odd look over his shoulder and repeated what he thought the curly-haired boy had said. “Malted?”

“Molted,” corrected Dustin. “He shed his skin to make room for growth, like a hornworm.” That did not clear anything up for Steve, but he let the kids continue their conversation as he and Sunshine led the way back to his car.

“When is he gonna molt again?” Lucas asked.

“It’s gotta be soon. And when he does, he’ll be fully grown or close to it. So will all of his friends.”

“Yeah, and he’s gonna eat a lot more than just cats,” Steve muttered just loud enough for the kids to hear him. He missed the glare Dustin threw his way or the realization that struck Lucas.

The latter stopped in his tracks and said, “Wait. A cat? Dart ate a cat?”

“No, what? No.” Dustin shook his head quickly.

Turning around, stopping their trek along with the rest of the kids, Steve furrowed his brows. “What’re you talking about? You said he ate Mews.”

“Mews? Who’s Mews?” Max asked.

“Dustin’s cat,” clarified Sunshine, much to Dustin’s dismay.

He threw his hands up in the air and shot both teens an incredulous look before he shouted, “Guys!”

Lucas scoffed. “I knew it! You kept him!”

“No! No. I…I…” Dustin trailed off before he slumped his shoulders. “Fine. I did! He missed me and he wanted to come home.”

“Bullshit!” Lucas yelled.

It took everything in Steve not to roll his eyes. They had much bigger fish to fry at the moment.

“I didn’t know he was a Demogorgon, okay?”

Lucas, however, did not refrain from rolling his eyes at Dustin. “Oh, so now you admit it?”

“Who cares?” Max interjected. “We have to go.”

Not even the redhead could break up their squabbling, though. They continued to argue while an army of monsters roamed free and did God only knew what to their hometown.

“I care!” Lucas replied. “You put the party in jeopardy! You broke the rule of law.”

Steve was never having kids, he decided at that very moment.

“So did you!” Dustin yelled back at Lucas. “You told a stranger the truth!” He shined his flashlight right in Max’s face.

“A stranger?” she scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You wanted to tell her too!” Lucas retorted.

“But I didn’t, Lucas. I didn’t tell her.” Dustin sucked in a breath and tried, very obviously to Steve, to shove down his bubbling anger over more than just Lucas telling the new girl the truth. It was a classic case of middle school drama. Both boys liked Max.

Steve did feel bad Dustin, he really did. He was swimming in a somewhat similar situation with Nancy and Jonathan. And while it was clear that Max liked Lucas a little more than Dustin, Steve was not ready to admit that maybe Nancy liked Jonathan a little more than him.

Dustin continued, “We both broke the rule of law, okay? So, we’re even now.”

Off in the distance, a howl echoed, catching both Steve and Sunshine’s attention. They exchanged a glance before searching through the thick trees for any sign of danger while the kids continued to argue.

“No! We’re not even. Don’t even try that. Your stupid pet could have eaten us for dinner!”

“That was not my fault! And he was not gonna eat us.”

Sunshine groggily called out to them in an attempt to halt their argument, but they ignored it.

“Right,” Lucas said. “He was just crawling to come say hello.”

“Guys!” Steve yelled, stopping their conversation with the brash tone of his voice. They all were quiet for a moment, and more growls echoed through the night sky.

Without another word, the teens, Lucas, and Dustin took off toward the sound. Max brought up the rear, not understanding why they were running toward the monstrous growls, but she followed them anyway.

They followed the noise until they came to a clearing in the trees. Stepping out onto a grassy hill that overlooked the outskirts of Hawkins, they saw no sign of monsters, but they still heard them.

Lucas pulled his binoculars from his backpack and searched for them. For a moment, he seemed to have come up empty-handed, but his movements suddenly froze before he slowly pulled the binoculars away from his face.

“It’s the Lab,” he said in a low, almost scared voice. “They’re going back home.”

Steve’s gaze turned to Sunshine. At the mention of the Lab, her expression changed from tired to unreadable.

“We have to follow them,” Dustin quietly said. “We have to see what they’re doing there, right?”

Lucas nodded, but his focus was also on Sunshine.

She didn’t move and kept her gaze set on the dark expanse of land that held the Lab. Even in the dim light, she looked paler than she had a moment ago.

The kids were right, and it was an incredibly stupid idea all at once. They were the only people, that they knew, who were aware of the monsters. They needed to figure out what they were doing there. Once they figured it out, they could take it to Hopper and forget the whole thing ever happened, again.

Yet, the suddenly frozen state of Sunshine made Steve want to forget about the whole thing, bring everyone home, and hope that someone else would discover the monsters and take care of them.

“It’ll be fine,” Lucas tried to reassure the group, but mostly Sunshine. “Those people aren’t there anymore, remember?”

“What are you talking about?” asked Max.

“Yeah, Lucas is right," Dustin said. "We’ve gotta figure out what they’re doing before they hurt someone.”

Their words seemed to work and snapped Sunshine out of her daze. It was clear to everyone that she did not want to follow the monsters to the Lab, but she set her jaw and nodded her head silently before she took off down the hill before anyone had the chance to utter another word. They all followed after her.

→←

Sunshine repeatedly reminded herself that she was fine. The Lab was nothing more than a building that was no longer inhabited by the same monsters that once roamed the halls.

Yet, the closer they grew to it, the heavier her body felt. Concrete enclosed her feet as she dragged them through overgrown grass and weeds that occupied the hillside. Her heart drummed uncomfortably against her chest, threatening to crawl out of her chest if she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop, though. They needed to figure out what was going on and she needed to push aside the horrible ache that spread throughout her entire body.

The Lab had once been her home, an awful one but for ten years it was the only place she had known. The nightmares refused to leave her, even in the comfort of her real home with her parents down the hall. She couldn’t escape it, and there she was again, heading right back towards it.

Her hands refused to stop shaking, even when she clutched them into fists at her sides. Sunshine tried not to let her fear show; she tried to be the adult in front of the three children, but the Lab only reminded her of the little, terrified girl she had once been.

Her fear didn’t go unnoticed. Dustin and Lucas walked on either side of her for a little while until they saw her shaking hands and silently decided to each slip their hand into hers. She squeezed their hands back as a ‘thank you’ as they continued.

When they broke through the tall greenery, which was nearly dead from the colder temperatures that flooded in with the start of November, they arrived at the yard just outside of Hawkins National Laboratory.

The building was dark. Not a single light seemed to be on inside, but she still saw its haunting outline in the moonlight. Her mind was so tangled up in the spiral of emotions that the building caused her that she almost missed the two familiar figures that somehow ended up there as well.

Nancy and Jonathan joined the group as they all tried to explain everything that had been happening, while Sunshine wandered toward the front gate.

The chain links she could once see from her room looked a lot smaller back then. They had once seemed like an impossible challenge. Standing on the other side of them made her feel twisted in all the right and wrong places. She made it to the other side. She could look at the building and see her past, not her present or future, but it was still haunted by so many ghosts who never saw the building from outside the fence.

The voices of her friends faded away, and it felt like Sunshine was alone, staring at the building while it stared right back at her, taunting her like it knew the power it still had over her.

Memories assaulted her brain, flooding over her too quickly. She had no time to reach the surface, smell the fresh air, and remind herself she was no longer locked inside. Instead, she felt herself being tugged under the dark waters, filling her head with things she wanted to forget.

A series of men in lab coats lined the side of a one-way mirror.

Inside the observation room stood a little girl with dark hair buzzed down to her scalp and sad eyes rimmed red. Dressed in a paper gown, Subject Seven lingered near the locked door and stared at the other occupant in the room.

A grown man with a face littered with cuts and nasty bruises sat with a piece of fabric tied tightly around his mouth. He wore a blood-stained shirt, and his knuckles were split open. His limbs were zip-tied to the legs and arms of the chair he sat in, cutting into his skin each time he struggled against the restraints.

“Seven,” Dr. Brenner’s voice filled the room through a single speaker on the far wall. She jumped at the noise but listened closely. “We need you to do just as we discussed.” His voice was low and cold, leaving no room for protest or error.

The man in the chair tried to wriggle free but it was useless. He managed to loosen the tie around his mouth to speak to Seven, even though it was frantic and muffled.

“N-No! Please,” he begged.

Seven frowned deeply, her stomach sinking deeper and deeper the longer she watched the man. She shifted her gaze to the window but was only met with her reflection, yet she knew who watched from the other side. People in Lab coats with pens resting in their palms and expecting looks in their eyes. They made her nervous even when she couldn’t see them. Their presence was looming enough to strike fear without being seen.

A shaky breath left her lips as she cupped her hands carefully in front of her chest. Closing her eyes, she concentrated all her energy into her palms. Light flickered briefly before it disappeared like a blown-out candle in a windy room.

“Again, Seven.”

Bile rose in her throat from the smell of blood and sweat from the man that mixed with the bleach scent of the Lab. She wanted to stop.

Seven knew what she was doing was wrong, but why it was wrong she didn’t know. It felt wrong; the look on the man’s battered face was wrong.

He squirmed even more and shook his head violently. “Please! I-I have a family!” He glanced at the window with tears shining in his green eyes. “I didn’t do it. I didn’t do it!”

His pleas rang painfully in Seven’s ears and her fingers flexed in protest, but she knew she couldn’t go against the doctors that waiting outside. She knew the consequences of defying them, again.

Wordlessly, she squeezed her eyes shut tightly and powered through her fear before it crippled her abilities anymore. Light bloomed on her palms and held steady. She released a small puff of air and clenched her jaw as it began to tremble.

When she turned her palms toward the man, it became too late to turn back.

A blood-curdling scream sounded from the man in the chair as white-hot light pierced his eyes like a million little needles. The light grew and grew until it encased the entire room for only a second, but that was long enough, and once it died down, Seven was forced to face the aftermath.

The man’s head hung forward, limp, and his struggling ceased. Blackened and seared skin stretched across his face making him unrecognizable. The neckline of his white, bloodied shirt was burned, and the damage rippled down his body, leaving melted fabric and flesh behind.

And in the center of it all was a little girl. Blood leaked from her nose and dotted her paper gown. A web of old and new splintered bruises decorated her delicate skin, and her golden eyes flushed with tears.

Seven stared at the man for a long moment, taking in the damage she caused until it became too much for her bony legs to carry. She landed on the cold floor with a quiet cry muffled behind her hands as she hid her face in shame and regret.

Three figures entered the room. Two soldiers untied the man and dragged him out by the arms while Dr. Brenner kneeled on the ground in front of the child.

“You did excellent, Seven.”

She peaked out from behind her trembling fingers and worked up enough courage to speak. “I-I hurt him,” she whispered.

It was confusing. Seven knew she had done something wrong; she felt a horrible, hot feeling bubble inside her stomach that made her feel sick. Yet, Dr. Brenner praised her.

Ivy repeated, like a mantra, how Dr. Brenner was bad. He wasn’t their papa and he wasn’t their friend, but they couldn’t defy him. Seven had learned that the hard way. Not following the rules was a dangerous game that she didn’t want to play again.

“Yes,” Dr. Brenner replied. “He was a bad man, a very bad man. You did a good thing.”

Good. Bad. Right. Wrong. Seven had such a skewed idea of what those words meant. The only thing she did know was that she was scared. She was scared to do the right thing in Dr. Brenner’s eyes and scared not to do as she was told. She was scared of hurting people and scared of what would happen if she didn’t. She was scared of the darkness of her bedroom and scared of the light that came from her hands.

Her lips trembled as her eyes wandered toward the closed door the man and soldiers disappeared behind. “Gone?”

Dr. Brenner nodded and stood up so that he was towering over Seven. He outstretched his hand toward her and said, “Now, come with me.”

She knew his hand would be cold and he would lead her to the next awful task she needed to complete, but a cold hand was better than no hand. Even the smallest crumb of kindness helped ease the growing void that punctured her growing heart. She had learned quickly that fake affection -no matter how calculated or manipulative - was better than nothing. Seven was just a little kid, she needed something, even if it was a cold hand from a man who constantly tricked them.

So, she took his hand and peeled herself off of the floor. The two walked down the long and haunted corridors of Hawkins National Laboratory, while Seven hoped for a miracle that was a long way out.

“Sunshine?” A voice forced itself through the violent spiral, but she still felt stuck, suffocated in a memory that had crawled from the depths of her brain.

Her eyes were screwed shut and a dull pain throbbed from her arm and her head.

“Sunshine, come on.” The voice spoke again; it was lighter and softer as it tried to pull her out. She shuttered, drenched in a coldness that reached her bones. After a moment, she managed to peel her eyes open, but she was terrified to find herself back inside the Lab and realize the last year of her life was nothing but a dream.

When her eyes opened, it revealed a darkened yard hidden behind a concerned face. She wasn’t back in the Lab, nor was Dr. Brenner anywhere in sight. Instead, she was on the other side of the towering fence of Hawkins National Laboratory with Steve kneeling in front of her.

His eyes were wide, and his lips parted in a sigh of relief.

Something wet touched her fingers and she pulled away from his gaze, dropping her eyes onto her wrist. The tattooed 007 was covered in scratch marks from her nails and blood had spilled over onto her skin.

A breathy sob broke from her lips as she pushed herself backward on the grass, away from Steve. The image of the man with blackened eyes still lingered in her mind, refusing to her alone.

“I didn’t mean it,” Sunshine cried out in a panic. “I didn’t…I didn’t…” It was hard to breathe, and the world became blurred from the tears that rained down her flushed cheeks. Her nails continued to rake against her tattoo like some part of her thought if she clawed out the ink, it would change the person she was and erase what she had done.

Sunshine never meant to hurt anyone, and she never wanted to kill anyone. What would happen if her friends learned what she had done inside the Lab, both under the thumb of scientist and doctor and of her own accord to escape? The same horrified expression the man who was bound and gagged in the observation room, would they mirror it?

They would hate her; her friends, the people she loved so dearly, would hate her, she was sure of it. Her parent would too. They didn’t know the truth about Sunshine at all, but if they realized that not only were they taking care of a science experiment but a killer too, there was no way that they’d be able to look at her the same.

Every horrible thought entered her mind at once, spinning around like a hurricane inside her skull. It threatened to tear her apart right there, in the front yard of Hawkins Lab. It would have been such a sick and twisted fate for her. She felt like she was dying in front of the very place that had threatened to kill her a hundred times over.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Steve said in a rushed breath as he reached forward and grabbed a hold of both of Sunshine’s hands to make her stop scratching her tattoo. “Sunshine, look at me, please.”

She tried to blink back the tears and make out the shape of his face close to hers.

“You’re okay. I promise you, you’re okay,” said Steve.

She shook her head but made no effort to pull her hands away from his. It took her a moment, but she eventually managed to speak through her hiccupped cries. “I can…can’t make it stop.” The alarms, the smoke, the screams, and the voices all raged inside her head, making it impossible to escape. “I just want it to stop.”

Her entire being was so tangled with the Lab that it wasn’t possible for her to get away. Every inch of her skin, every corner of her brain, and every drop of her blood had been tainted by that place. Sunshine could not escape it. Yet, it didn’t fully come crashing down on her until she returned and laid her eyes upon the daunting building that held most of her life hostage.

“Those people, the, uh, the bad guys, right? They’re gone,” Steve said as he squeezed her shaking hands a little tighter. His gaze bore into her tear-streaked face, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

A part of her was embarrassed. Sunshine always tried to keep her sights set on the future and to keep her twisted and complicated emotions to herself, but they spilled out of her faster than she could catch them. She had existed on a very thin thread and facing down the Lab again had pulled on her a little too hard; she was unraveling.

The other part of Sunshine was scared; she couldn’t recall a time she wasn’t at least a little terrified. It was a perpetual feeling that lingered behind her like a shadow, waiting to enclose her in darkness the moment she felt too comfortable in her new life.

“What if they’re not?” Sunshine whispered, speaking a persistent fear out loud for the first time. “W-What if they come back? What…” Her breath hitched and the rest of her question slipped away with the continuous tears down her chin, dotting the collar of her coat.

Steve dropped his hold on Sunshine’s hand, and for a moment, a pain panged deep in her chest. She thought he was going to leave, turn on his heel, and roll his eyes like the doctors used to do when she cried in front of them. She imagined Dr. Brenner’s sneer or the cold hand of a soldier threatening to grab her by the wrist and toss her out of the way when she got too emotional.

It hurt when they all turned away and ignored her, but the thought of Steve mirroring their actions caused panic to burn in her throat. She sucked in a deep breath and watched carefully for his next move, unsure what she would do if her fears played out right there.

He moved slowly and carefully, giving her enough time to turn her head or pull back if she wanted, and brought his hand to her cheek. His thumb attempted to wipe away the falling tears.

That little gesture, a turn of her expectations, was enough to melt away the urge to push away from him. Falling forward, she buried her head in the crook of Steve’s shoulder. Despite the cold November air, he was warm, and his jacket smelled like pine trees and gasoline. Above everything, he felt safe to her. He had been the first person she met outside of the Lab, and somewhere in her brain, that comfort she must've felt with him as a little girl pushed through her fear just enough for her to trust him. That trust only grew throughout the past year as their friendship did.

She must’ve taken him by surprise because it took a moment before he hesitantly wrapped his arms around her. In her head, she kept repeating to herself that he was real and that she was safe. There was still that lingering fear that she'd open her eyes and everything she’d grown to love would be taken away all over again. She feared her friends and family would disappear and she’d be back to holding cold hands in haunted hallways, desperate for the connections she finally had restored in her life, but she held on tight to the fabric of his jacket in the hope of preventing him from slipping away.

They stayed like that for a while, until Sunshine’s tears subsided, and she was able to choke out a sentence without her voice breaking down the middle. When she pulled away from Steve, just enough to see the concerned furrow of his brows and the white scar that adorned his eyebrow from his and Jonathan’s fight last year.

“I’m just scared,” she admitted. “I’m scared this is all going to go away, and I’ll have to go back there. I…I can’t. I can’t do that again.”

New people had taken control of the Lab, and the other doctors were nowhere to be seen. Hopper had reassured her that the new people were only there to deal with any Upside Down incidents that occurred in Hawkins. Sunshine knew that those people from her time in the Lab were still out there, somewhere, and that one day they could return to finish what they started. She had everything to lose, and no idea if someone was plotting to ruin it for her all over again.

Steve shook his head, his hands on her shoulders. “That’s not going to happen,” he said. His words sounded so sure, so confident. It caused a small frown to pull on Sunshine’s lips. “I’m serious, Sunshine. Those people are gone and even if, for some reason, they weren’t and they came after you, there’s not a chance in hell that me or anyone here would let anything happen to you. You’re too important to us.” There was a certain intensity in his gaze that made her want to believe him. She could tell he believed it, maybe even enough for the both of them.

“He’s right.” A new voice joined in, startling both Sunshine and Steve. They turned their heads to see the three kids lingering a few steps away.

Dustin smiled sheepishly and said, “Sorry. We just, uh, the power came back on so Nancy and Jonathan went to see what’s going on in there.”

“And we wanted to make sure you okay,” Lucas added, looking at Sunshine.

Dustin nodded. “Steve’s right, you know? You’re a party member, and that means we look out for each other like how you looked out for us tonight. You totally kicked ass! And we’d totally kick someone’s ass if they tried to come after you.”

Sunshine wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of her jacket and smiled softly at the kids, even Max, who looked widely confused. They were some of the bravest kids she had ever met, and while she wished they weren’t saddled with another impossible fight against something none of them really understood, she was glad she had met them and that they served as a constant reminder that Sunshine had people on her side.

“Thanks, guys,” she sniffled, moving to stand. Steve followed suit, lingering close to Sunshine’s side. Her eyes fell back onto the Lab, and she sucked in a breath. The windows were illuminated, and the place was alive once more.

She was out and she wasn’t going back.

“Uh, guys?” Max pulled all of their attention and pointed toward a set of headlights coming toward them down the driveway.

A car suddenly rushed past them, leaving all of them confused, but they had no time to question it before Hopper’s truck came to a stop beside them.

Hopper flung open the passenger door and screamed at all of them to hurry. Without hesitation, they all ran toward the truck. The trio of middle schoolers scrambled into the back seat before Steve and Sunshine crammed in the front with Hopper. Steve didn’t even manage to close the door fully before Hopper sped off, putting distance between them and Lab, which Sunshine was thankful for.

They followed Nancy’s speeding car down the dark streets of Hawkins as monsters howled in the distance, right under the unsuspecting noses of sleeping Hawkins residents.

Tag List. @sattlersquarry , @leptitlu @thebeastisout-there

#stranger things #stranger things x oc #steve harrington #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x original character #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things season 2 #project sunshine

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l0ves1ckf0ol · 1 year

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wenclair headcannons

tags: @gwynrr

astringent - platonic

gift giving as their love language will forever remain canon to ME

"im going to die." "enid, the wifi had just been cut off for a few minutes."

both kinda lazy to go out on plans so they have movie nights

wednesday forces enid to listen to a horror or a true crime podcast, until eventually enid can't sleep anymore and wednesday stops this hobby.

in revenge, enid watches clueless and mean girls with wednesday.

both unironically love musicals, especially heathers (maybe enid more than wednesday bc she sings songs from it nonstop)

homework freak (wednesday) x couldnt give two shits (enid) unless homework freak lists an amount of stuff that could happen in the future if they don't do their homework.

enid dressed up as coraline, wednesday dressed up as wybie

matching pjs

thing sneaks in food for their movie nights that he also gets to crash in

enid loves to do wednesday's makeup but its only strictly powder, eyeliner, dark eyeshadow and dark lipstick (due to her allergies) which saddens her but makes wednesday rest in peace.

sweet - fluff

wednesday = little spoon

enid = big spoon

wednesday would do anything, and i mean ANYTHING for enid.

can't focus on exams? she already made notes for enid so she can study

study sessions with thing holding up flash cards as they both review

wednesday despises pda but when provoked she will do thr little things (cheek kisses, holdinf hands, waist pulling)

theyre a converse x doc martens shoes kinda couple

"how tf can u walk in those? "

she tells enid to stop blogging gossip, enid thinks abt it, stops for a while then returns after a 3 week hiatus

enid eats dark chocolate w wednesdsy, pretendinf to like it- in reality she spits it out in the bathroom sink.

enid's pet names are "luv" or "sweetie" or "baby"

wednesday acts like she despises them (secretly loves them)

enid KNOWS that she does.

she falls asleep to wednesday playing the cello

wednesday reminds her that she can't use her cello sessions as a flaw in her character while arguing cus enid actually likes it.

they dont do dates bc wednesday is not like yk used to going out w a lover but theyre doing progress (hence DRAGGING her out the dorm)

bitter - angst

almost never fights but if they do its sumn BIG.

enid loves attention and can't live without wednesday's so when frustration builds more and more...

boom goes enid, screaming her lungs off at wedneeday and then saying sorry afterwards cus she thought SHE was being mean

wednesday thinks its cute but then realizes her mistake and then she has difficulty apologizing bc their fights are always somehow against her morals and philosophy

enid gives her the silent treatment if it takes her a long time to apologize

though shes always remind her of her own faults, subtly.

mk ive run out of ideas

#wenclair #wenclair headcanon #xu's headcannons #wednesday addams netflix #wednesday 2022 #enid sinclair #wednesday is soft for enid

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baby-zakarii · 4 months

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Regressor Rohan Kishibe Headcanons!

Wanted to write them down for a looong time and I finally did! Also set somewhere between diu and tskr??? Idk honestly

💚Rohan started regressing at 16, right after his manga got published. At first it was quite surprising (and embarassing) for him, he didn't know what was happening to him. Even after doing research about age regression he still wouldn't really tell anyone about his coping method - anyone who eventually found out did it by complete accident. Although currently only a few people know about his regression, they are all really supportive (Morioh is full of kiddos and you can't convince me otherwise lol)

💚His age range is 1-6 years old. He regresses mostly involuntarily, but sometimes he'll do it willingly just to relax a bit, usually after several hours of work. He has a special little corner in his studio in case of suddenly regressing - it has a soft blanket, some toys and pillows

💚He doesn't have a cg, but sometimes he lets others babysit him. Koichi is always eager to help Rohan after school (although Rohan usually won't ask because of his pride). They also have playdates together when they're both small

💚His other babysitter is Kyoka! She's very blunt when it comes to his regression, asking him if he's small at random moments. Sometimes she basically drags Rohan over to his baby corner when she sees he's overworking himself

💚Baby Rohan is a very creative kiddo. He loves coloring, drawing and finger painting. He has a big set of art supplies for children as he tends to be quite clumsy and usually makes a mess and/or breaks something - and that something won't be his luxurious overpriced pen!

💚He needs to be supervised while making art though, he gets so carried away that he starts drawing on walls, floors and even himself

💚If he's too tired to draw, he likes watching cartoons! He appreciates different artstyles and is the biggest "cartoons are not just for kids" believer. He especially likes mlp and ghibli movies

💚He has a lot of plush dolls and loves playing with them. He gets all kinds of tiny fashionable clothes for them and runs pretend fashion shows! Sometimes he even does tea parties (top secret!) (Josuke isn't invited.)

💚Rohan is way more sensitive when in baby headspace. He gets overwhelmed easily and usually doesn't even know what caused it. The best way to help him is to give him his comfort item (like a favourite toy) and let him cry it out! This dude need a good cry!

💚He's also suprisingly easily to spook... He may be a horror writer, but he's not immune to his own genre lol

💚His biggest fear are windows. He cannot sleep next to them or stand too close when he's small - it reminds him of that night with Reimi. All windows must be closed and babyproofed!

💚Rain is scary to him for the exact same reason (dripping noise...), soft music and his dolls usually helps him calm down during storms

💚He absolutely loves baths. Won't leave the bathtub for hours, has all kinds of fancy soaps, shampoos and bathbombs... and uses them mercilessly to create "potions" or do his "selfcare routine" which is just pouring random liquids all over himself. Also, bath crayons are obviously a hit with him, he'll use half a box per bath though

💚Soooo fussy about bedtime, he often has trouble relaxing enough to take a nap. He may throw a tantrum because he's actually too tired to fall asleep. When he's in baby headspace, the best solution is swaddling! Koichi unfortunately isn't able to help Rohan with that - he's a teenager, he can't swaddle properly, let's be honest - so they just cuddle when they are both small and fall asleep together, often with other Morioh littles too! Kyoka on the other hand did excessive research and is a swaddling pro, she can stop Rohan's sleep deprivation fit in seconds by wrapping him like a baby artist burrito

💚💚💚💚💚

I have many thoughts abt him, so I might write more in the future hehe! This is your sign to babify your fave character, they need it! Go give them a blankie, a paci and some kissies and cuddles🍼❤️

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tameodesza · 9 months

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Love’s Maze (BretShawn)

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AO3 link

Shawn accepts Bret's invitation, and the night ends as neither man expects

It was nearly midnight when Bret heard a knock on his room door at the hotel. He was beginning to think that Shawn wouldn’t show up as the night progressed. However, he was put at ease upon opening the door to see Shawn standing there with his duffle bag slung on his shoulder and a sheepish smile on his face.

Shawn shrugged, saying, “Things didn’t work out with Scott. So, it looks like we’re rooming tonight if you still want to.”

To which Bret responded all too eagerly, “Oh, yes! Yes, of course. Come in.” It’s not like he’d stayed up past his bedtime waiting for Shawn to come by or something. Nope. Not at all.

“Thanks,” said Shawn.

Shawn made his way into the room, wasting no time making himself comfortable. He left his bag by the door before plopping down on the couch, sighing in satisfaction as he leaned his head back with his eyes closed. It had been a long night and Shawn was so relieved to finally have a place to rest.

Bret followed suit, sitting next to the blond as he said, “So I’m guessing you couldn’t book a room.”

“Nope. The place is full and Scott’s out getting fucked up. So he’s not coming back until much, much later.” Shawn then opened his eyes and turned his head towards Bret. “Are you sure you don’t mind me staying?”

How could Bret ever mind when Shawn was looking up at him with those beautiful eyes?

“It’s fine. I promise,” he said as he held out his pinky finger.

Shawn smiled brightly, looping his own pinky around Bret’s as he said, “Good.”

There was a moment where their gaze lingered, both men smiling softly at each other as the silence of the room served as a constant reminder that they were alone. As short as the moment was, it was enough for both of them to feel something that they weren’t quite ready to make sense of yet.

Shawn was the first to break the tension as he unlinked their hands, clearing his throat before saying, “So you said you wanted to hang out tonight. What does ‘hanging out’ on a Monday night look like for Bret Hart?”

“Um,” Bret didn’t even know the answer to that. “We could watch a movie? Or just talk. Whatever you want to do.”

“Do you ever go out drinking?”

“Eh, it depends. Sometimes, Owen drags me out. But it’s a rare occasion when I go out on my own. I typically stay in.”

“Hmm,” said Shawn inquisitively. “No wonder I barely see you out with the boys.”

Bret nodded, “Yeah. It’s a bit lame, right?”

“No. It’s good. That’s what makes you, you. I would’ve avoided a lot of trouble in the past if I hadn’t gone out drinking so much.”

“Wait, so you’re good with us staying in?”

“Yeah,” said Shawn as he wiggled out of his jacket to get more comfortable. “I’m fine doing whatever, Bret. You name it.”

After throwing out a few ideas, they settled on ordering pizza and watching an old horror movie.

Shawn was glued in on the film, clinging to a pillow in suspense with one hand as he gripped his pizza with the other. Bret glanced over at him every so often, finding Shawn’s antics amusing, especially because the movie wasn’t even that scary.

But unlike Shawn, Bret hadn’t been able to entirely focus on the movie. His mind was clouded with thoughts about what Owen had told him earlier that day.

Was he really fumbling his chance to be with Shawn? Was it the right time to tell the man about his feelings for him?

Bret knew regret would eat him alive if he didn’t at least try to pursue Shawn. But he really didn’t want to jeopardize their friendship. Shawn meant too much to him for him to let that happen.

It was Bret’s hesitation and contemplation that made him hold off a little longer on confessing to Shawn as they continued to watch the movie.

Before he knew it, the movie was over, and Shawn was stretching beside him as he let out an exaggerated yawn. “That was good.”

Bret teased, “How would you know? Your face was behind the pillow the whole time.”

“Hey,” Shawn said in a fake hurt voice, lightly hitting Bret with the pillow in question. “Don’t be rude.”

Bret put his hands up in defense, “Just an observation.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shawn said flippantly before letting out another yawn. “Sorry, I’m getting sleepy. Think I’m gonna call it a night.”

“It is pretty late. We both could use some rest. I’ll head down to grab some extra blankets. I don’t want to freeze on the couch tonight,” said Bret as he got up from the couch.

Shawn watched in confusion as Bret put on his shoes, saying, “It’s your room. I’ll take the couch.”

Bret responded adamantly, “I invited you. I don’t want you sleeping on the couch, Shawn. I’ll be right back. I’m not sure how long it’ll take, so go ahead and get some rest.”

“Bret-” But Bret was already heading out the door, stifling Shawn’s protest.

Shawn sat there, staring at the door in bewilderment. He knew that Bret was a gentleman, but he had no idea the man would be willing to give up his bed for him. Shawn didn’t feel right about it, but he surely didn’t feel like going back and forth with the older man all night.

So he slowly got up and shrugged out of his jeans and t-shirt before moving the pile of clothes on top of his duffle bag.

Shawn slithered under the covers, letting out a content sigh as he sank down onto the soft mattress knowing that a good night’s sleep awaited him.

Or at least that’s what he intended.

Shawn had a very difficult time falling asleep as countless thoughts raced behind his closed eyes. Most of these thoughts consisted of Bret, more specifically, Shawn’s ever-growing feelings towards the man.

He was annoyed at himself for not being able to ignore it, constantly asking himself why. Why couldn’t he just allow himself to enjoy their friendship?

What they had was simple. It was safe. It was comfortable. Falling for Bret, not even knowing if the older man liked him back, would only make things more complicated.

Shawn curled into himself, thoughts consuming him like a starved parasite as he desperately tried to shut off his brain.

Bret came back to the room about 15 minutes later with fresh sheets. He closed the door softly behind him before walking towards the couch quietly in an effort to not make any noise, not knowing that the blond was fully awake, head peeking out of the comforter as he looked at Bret.

Bret set the sheets down before turning around to tug off his shirt and pants, leaving on only his boxers.

Shawn tried his best to look elsewhere, but his eyes were instantly drawn to Bret’s chiseled chest and toned legs once the man turned back towards him.

Although they’d already seen each other in the bare minimum, it was something about seeing Bret outside of his ring gear, casually wearing nothing but boxers and socks, that made the moment feel more intimate.

Shawn had to force himself to turn around, not wanting to have another stiff problem in the morning.

After putting away his clothes, Bret unraveled the sheets and grabbed a pillow from the bed before turning off all of the lights. “Good night, Shawn,” he whispered after settling onto the couch.

Shawn didn’t answer, which Bret assumed was because the younger man was already asleep. However, about five minutes later, he heard the sound of Shawn moving briskly against the sheets. Bret didn’t think anything of it until he heard Shawn shuffle in the sheets again a few moments later.

It was after the third time that Bret heard Shawn let out a frustrated huff as he shoved the comforter off of his upper body. A few seconds of silence floated in the air until Shawn whispered, “Bret?”

With his eyes still closed, Bret tilted his head in Shawn’s direction, answering, “Hm?”

“Are you up?”

“I’m talking, aren’t I?” The smart comment would’ve made Shawn laugh in any other circumstance, but he wasn’t in a joking mood.

“I can’t sleep.”

Bret furrowed a brow as he whispered back, “Why not?”

Shawn paused. “I- Can you just come up here?”

That was enough to make Bret’s eyes shoot open, attempting to get a good look at the blond in the dark room.

Shawn wanted him in the bed? With him?

“What? Shawn, I don’t know-”

“It’s just…I feel bad that you’re sleeping on some uncomfy hotel couch. There’s plenty of room up here for the both of us.”

Well, that was half of the truth. Yes, Shawn did feel bad about stealing Bret’s bed. However, his request stemmed from something deeper.

Ever since breaking up with Marty, Shawn always had a difficult time falling asleep since he wasn’t used to going to bed alone.

It wasn’t as much of an issue when he roomed with Scott. The man allowed Shawn to cuddle with him, no questions asked. Scott knew that Shawn wasn’t doing it to hit on him, but because it really did help him fall asleep.

But since Scott was out partying that night, Shawn didn’t have him as an option.

“I promise you, I’m fine. I’ve slept in worse places.”

“Bret,” Shawn pleaded. “Please.”

The urgency in Shawn’s voice was enough to cause concern. But as concerned as Bret was, he had his own reasons as to why he didn’t want to share a bed with Shawn – the main reason being that he didn’t trust himself being so close to the man in such a private setting.

But with Shawn basically begging him, who was he to say no?

“Ok, ok. I’m coming up.”

Shawn felt relieved when the bed shifted behind him, his breathing already beginning to even out now that a familiar presence was near him.

Bret made a conscious effort to keep a respectful distance between them, but after a few silent minutes had passed, he felt Shawn shift closer, the blond’s back now pressed firmly against Bret’s chest.

Bret went still, afraid of how his body would react if he moved too suddenly. Shawn let out another content sigh as he felt Bret’s warm skin pressed onto his back.

Realizing that he was probably making Bret uncomfortable, Shawn turned around, facing Bret as he laid his head beside the man’s shoulder. “Is this ok,” Shawn whispered.

Bret thought he should be the one asking Shawn that question. He answered, “Yeah. Is-” Bret stopped himself before deciding to go ahead, “Is this ok?” He asked as he placed a hand gently onto Shawn’s waist.

A blush quickly made its way onto Shawn’s face, which luckily Bret could barely see in the dark. Shawn answered softly, “Yes.”

Bret then tightened the hold, bringing Shawn closer to him. He had no idea what was going on or why it was happening, but he wasn’t going to question it.

Bret then heard Shawn ask, “Is it ok if I lay my head on your chest?” Shawn knew he was pushing his limits, hoping that Bret wouldn’t literally kick him out of the bed.

But he was pleasantly surprised to hear Bret say, “Go for it.” Bret only hoped that Shawn didn’t pick up on the sound of his quickening heart rate.

Shawn shifted closer, placing his head on Bret’s chest as he sighed, “You’re so warm.”

Bret trailed a hand lightly up Shawn’s lower back, causing the younger man’s heart to quicken as well. “You too,” said Bret.

With both men finally settled in, they went quiet for a while, enjoying the feeling of being wrapped around each other. They’ve hugged plenty of times as friends. But this felt different, their close embrace seeming to affect them in ways it never had before.

And with Shawn so close and the mood feeling right, Bret felt like now was the time to tell Shawn what he’d been wanting to for so long. “Shawn,” Bret whispered, hoping the younger man hadn’t fallen asleep yet.

Shawn tilted his head up in Bret’s direction, the older man looking down into Shawn’s eyes as they twinkled in the moonlight. God, he’s so beautiful, thought Bret.

“Hmm,” Shawn asked.

“I, um, I-” and just like that, Bret lost his confidence. “Never mind.”

Just as Bret was turning his head to look away, he felt Shawn’s hand resting on his cheek, guiding his face back down to his.

With Bret looking down at him, lips just a breath away, Shawn moved forward, softly kissing Bret on the lips. Bret quickly reciprocated as he pressed his lips firmly against Shawn’s, the kiss turning into sensual, light pecks.

Shawn was the first to pull away, slightly panting as he rested his head onto Bret’s. Bret was panting just as heavily as he tried to catch his breath and calm his pounding heart.

“Shawn-” But he was cut off by the motion of Shawn shaking his head ‘no.’

Shawn settled back onto Bret’s chest, fully relaxing as snuggled closer to the man before whispering, “Thank you. For being here.”

Bret nodded, hoping Shawn felt it because he didn’t trust his voice at the moment.

Bret had so many questions. Questions that Shawn didn’t seem ready to answer.

What did the kiss mean? Did Shawn like him? Did this mean he had a chance with the blond? Did it mean nothing at all?

Bret wrapped his arms tighter around Shawn as the blond’s breathing slowed to a steady rhythm. Bret stayed up a little bit longer, sleep being harder to find as their kiss replayed in his head on a constant loop.

#hartbreak #bretshawn #bret hart x shawn michaels #shawn michaels #bret hart #wwf #wwe fanfiction #alternate universe #divider cr: @saradika

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