#happy badass meal

[mc-i-r]

Disposable Heroes

Part one, Part two, Part three, Part four AO3 link

A/N: hi yes so sorry for how late this is, it turned into a huge monster of a fic that I’m still working on but I figured posting the first part wouldn’t hurt. This is based on this post by @liightsnow, @acowardinmordor, and @00biscuit while back and I decided to expand that concept a bit and here we are. I'll be tagging anyone that seemed interested in the concept at the end of the fic! Warnings are below but I just wanna say that Steve is struggling with his sexuality in this one so most of it comes from that. This will absolutely have a happy ending, just not right now. Enjoy the angst!

Tw: internalized homophobia, homophobic language, mentions of canon violence, dissociation, panic attacks

———

It’s a Sunday afternoon when he realizes it. Steve is sitting on his couch, eating a shitty frozen meal and watching a random movie on TV when it hits him. The kids haven’t asked him for a ride in two weeks. Two Saturdays have passed and there was not one call— either on the phone or over the walkie— from any of the kids. Not even Dustin, who has seemed to make it his life’s mission in the past couple years to annoy Steve into an early grave.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen them at all. He still practices basketball with Lucas on Thursdays, even though the season is long over. His weekly dinners with Claudia and Dustin are still going strong every Wednesday. Joyce seems to invite him over for dinners every couple weeks. From the outside, everything seems fine. And maybe it is, but Steve’s noticed things.

See, he’s not as stupid as people think he is. He may not be academically smart but he can read. However, instead of books, it’s people. He can read their micro-expressions, notice little signs in their body language that help him understand the person. He can tell when people are nervous when they avoid eye contact, can tell how anxious they are when they distract themselves by picking at their fingers. It’s how he’s so good with the kids. They’re in the stubborn stage of their teenage years, the time in which the only answer you’ll get is ‘I’m fine. Leave me alone’. But he can tell if there’s something on their minds, if there’s something eating away at them.

He can tell that Mike’s anger and pointed barbs are directed towards himself, how he’s struggling with something he can’t quite admit to himself yet. How Max is frustrated with her body, with accepting help, because she’s always had to rely on herself and putting that much trust in someone else has never been an option for her until now. How Lucas is trying to find joy in doing something he loves again, because his love for basketball has been ruined by Carver and his trusty band of assholes. How Dustin is trying to deal with almost losing Eddie, how he’s processing the feelings of almost losing a brotherly figure along with one of his friends. How Will is hiding part of himself, struggling to accept it in the same way Mike is. How El is trying so hard to find her new normal, to adjust to getting her life— her father— back.

There’s another thing he’s noticed, however. It’s that the kids are obsessed with Eddie. Steve from a couple years ago would feel jealous of Eddie, and would try to hold it against him. Now, though, Steve just feels… sad. The kids constantly talk about how cool and badass Eddie is for still being himself despite all the shit Hawkins has thrown at him. They talk about how Eddie takes them places, gets them little trinkets for their nerd game, and takes them fun places. Eddie does all these little things for the kids, lets them just be kids, and really, Steve can’t be mad at him for it. He tries to let them have fun, but his constant worrying overwhelms them. It brings them down. Eddie doesn’t do that. He joins right in with them, basking in the fun and letting himself go. Steve… can’t. Not with all the shit he’s seen. Letting his guard down is something he can’t afford to do anymore.

He sighs down at his meal, chucking it on the coffee table as he loses his appetite. His glasses land next to the disposable plastic tray, sliding across the finished wood surface from the force of his throw. He rubs harshly over his face, hands digging into his eyes until he sees stars.

Steve knows he’s not perfect. Hell, it took an interdimensional monster trying to kill him in order for him to realize that he could be a better person. That the only person truly able to change his life is himself. He used to think he had no choice in his life— whether it was his parents' high expectations of him or his friends trying to mold him into their perfect little plaything— but he knows better now. He knows that he shouldn’t have become King Steve, that he shouldn’t have hurled all his hate and anger towards other people who didn’t deserve it. He knows he shouldn’t have called people names or slurs, that he shouldn’t have spray painted lockers or ripped up books or shoved people against hard asphalt. He knows that, but knowing it was wrong doesn’t erase the fact that it happened. That Steve did those things and hurt people.

Part of him knows that his past is what made the kids turn towards Eddie. Why wouldn’t they? Steve was a bully, thought he was hot shit in school and made it everyone’s problem. Eddie was simply himself. His unabashed, unashamed self. He stood on cafeteria tables, made dramatic speeches, and shared his opinions to anyone and everyone who would listen. He’s so genuine and so, so much better for the kids. He teaches them how to be themselves, how to shove off the hate and embrace their weird side. He’s perfect for them, and Steve knows deep down that this is good for them. The kids need a good role model, one they can rely on, and Eddie has his herd of little sheep to teach and protect. It’s perfect. They’re perfect.

Steve remembers the time last week at the Byers-Hopper house when their little obsession truly became real. They were waiting for the bread to finish baking in the oven, and Steve saw that Will was seated alone in the living room. Joyce and Hopper were in the kitchen, talking and keeping a lookout so the bread wouldn’t burn. Jonathan and El were listening to music in his room, the synth and guitars echoing down the hallway. So, Steve decided to finally talk to Will. It’s not like they don’t talk ever, just… not much. Will is quiet, blends into the background, and Steve never felt like the kid would be comfortable with him trying to get in his business. However, he needed to ask the question that had been on his mind for a while.

Steve sat down on the couch next to him, keeping a fair amount of distance between them, and rested his elbows on his knees. Will was reading a comic, the cover full of bright colors and words, not paying attention. Steve sighed, pushed his glasses up, and ran a hand through his own hair.

“Hey, um… can we talk for a sec?”

Will startled a little, like he didn’t realize Steve was there, and closed his comic. He nodded, and Steve tried not to feel bad about the hesitation in his eyes.

“Is there something going on that I don’t know about? Like with the others?” Will’s eyebrows furrowed, a confused expression taking over his face.

“Um.. what do you mean?”

“Just… have I done anything to them to make them mad? I just… I don’t know, I feel like I’ve done something but I don’t know what,” Steve confessed. He must have looked as distraught as he felt, because Will seemed to soften at his explanation a bit.

“Why do you think that, Steve?” Will asked softly, and Steve had a moment of realization that Will seemed years older than he looked. Steve sighed, and explained that the kids haven’t really been hanging around him much and instead like to spend time with Eddie. He’s quick to clarify that he doesn’t mean anything bad by it, just wants to know what happened. It was Will’s turn to sigh, and he looked at Steve with something akin to sympathy.

“Steve, I don’t say this to be mean but… Eddie just relates to us more, you know? He shares more interests with us, and he seems to get us better,” Will expressed. His eyes widened and he hastily added, “it doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you! Just… it’s nice to have somewhere else to go, you know?”

The rest of the evening was spent with Steve silently eating his dinner, Will’s words echoing through his head as he munched on half-burnt bread.

Steve decides then, TV dinner half-eaten and work vest still on his shoulders, that he’s going to make this better.

The next day, Eddie comes into Family Video to pick up some movies, definitely for a movie night judging by the titles— he seriously doubts a metalhead would willingly watch The Goonies, The Dark Crystal, and Ghostbusters by himself on a Saturday night. Eddie bounds up to the register, movies in hand, and does a dramatic bow as he presents them to Steve.

“I wish to borrow these, my liege,” Eddie declares, his voice deep and in a horrible mockery of an English accent. Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes, unable to hide the small grin on his face at the other man's theatrics.

Eddie looks so effortlessly pretty, his hair tied back in a ponytail and his tattoos exposed through the large arm holes in his homemade tank top. Steve shakes his head to get rid of those thoughts and takes the movies to check them out, ignoring the late fee balance on Eddie's account. A glance at the man in front of him, who is bouncing on his toes and looking around the store, gives Steve an idea.

“Hey, is Hellfire still going on?”

Eddie snaps his attention back to Steve, looking a little startled to be asked such a thing.

“Uh… yeah, it's still going on. We have to play in Gareth’s hot ass garage since school is out but we’re making it work. Why d’you ask?”

“Oh, uh… the kids complained awhile back that they didn’t have a good spot to play anymore and I was just wondering,” Steve explains. Eddie raises an eyebrow at him, and Steve can feel him staring. Can feel him looking at him closely. Too closely. He clears his throat and looks back down at the counter, pushing his gold, wire-framed glasses further up his nose. “I uh… I actually wanted to offer up my place? My parents aren’t home much”— more like never— “and I’ve got plenty of space for the gremlins and the other guys. Plus, my A/C works and I’ve got a shit ton of snacks. I’ll stay out of your hair and-“

“Actually uh…” Eddie cuts him off with a strained voice. Steve looks up to find his face contorted like he ate something sour, and he knows what his response is going to be before he opens his mouth. Eddie wipes a hand over his mouth before shoving it in his pocket. “Yeah, the other guys just… really wouldn’t want to be there.”

Steve nods— tries not to let the denial sting— and looks down at the movies in his hands. Ignoring how they shake, he sets them on the counter and slides them towards Eddie.

“That’s okay man, I get it. I need a break from the little horrors anyway,” he huffs out, the words digging their way into the pit in his stomach. He puts on his best customer service smile and looks up at Eddie, finding him looking a little wary. Eddie hesitates, as if debating with himself on whether or not to say anything, before rapping his knuckles on the counter in a little rhythm and picking up his movies. An awkward smile finds its way to his face, and Steve thinks it strange and out of place. It’s so.. un-Eddie-like. The pit grows deeper.

Walking backwards towards the entrance, Eddie throws a little salute his way before turning and swinging out the door. A belated “see ya, Harrington” drifts through the closing door in his wake.

Steve slumps over the counter when he’s gone, holding his head in his hands and feeling the childish urge to cry make its way up to his eyes. Even after everything— after walking through hell together, dragging his lifeless body out of the Upside Down as his blood dripped down his back and soaked through his clothes, standing vigil at his side until he woke up two weeks later— Eddie still seems to hate him.

But Steve… he feels the opposite. He has this overwhelming desire to be with Eddie. To hang out with him in the back of his van, drinking sodas and eating snacks as they look out over Lover’s Lake while the sun sets. To talk to him until the early hours of the morning until there’s nothing left to say. To go for drives late at night and listen to his loud music on the radio while holding hands over the center console. He has feelings for Eddie he’s never had before. Not for any past romantic conquests nor any girl. Hell, not even for Nancy. He’s never felt this intense need to be near someone before, and it scares him. It truly terrifies him.

He’s not homophobic— his platonic soulmate is a lesbian, for Christ's sake— but the fact that he feels this way is just… wrong to him. How is Steve Harrington, ladies’ man and charmer extraordinaire, into dudes? What is he, like, half gay? It just doesn’t make sense, doesn’t seem right, for him to feel like this. He sighs into his hands, digging his palms into his eyes until he sees stars. He can’t be thinking about this now, he can’t be thinking about this at all. He needs to shove it in the box in the back of his head where all the hard feelings go, waiting and festering to be dealt with later. He needs to, but he doesn’t know if he can.

Fuck, he needs to talk to Robin. Shit- can he though? What if what he’s feeling is a fluke or something? What if it’s just in his head because he’s desperate? What if Robin thinks he’s making fun of her and won’t take him seriously? It’s not fair of him to throw all his problems on her, even if he thinks she could help. It’s not her job to look after him, to take care of him. He can do that himself. He can figure this out himself.

Distantly, the words of Richard Harrington play in his ears. About how being gay is wrong, how it’s a disease. How it’s a sickness that slowly takes over until there’s nothing left. How it’s a disgrace.

He remembers sitting in the living room with his parents on a rare occasion in which they were home, watching the news channel as it talked about an epidemic spreading through young men. His father scoffed at the screen when they started talking about potential cures.

“Cures? They should just let those fags die. They brought this on themselves, you know. Typical of them to complain about the fucking consequences,” Richard had spat out at the block TV, standing to refill his bourbon. Steve had clenched his fists at his side, his already stiff posture straightening still. He felt angry at his fathers words, something pure and burning in his gut.

He didn’t know what it was at the time, but maybe he should’ve known. Maybe him being queer shouldn’t be as much of a surprise as it feels. Maybe he’s always known and just couldn’t bring himself to admit it. Maybe that anger he felt at his father’s words was partly on behalf of himself, too.

A wince shudders through him as he remembers how that night ended.

Steve had stood up from the couch, watching the dark liquid flow into the crystal glass in his father’s hand.

“What’s so wrong with being gay? I don’t understand how you could just.. hate people like that. Hate them for just existing,” Steve countered. His father had frozen at his words, slowly setting down the decanter with a solid ‘thunk’ against the metal tray where it belonged and turned to face him. His face was slowly gaining a reddish hue, a sign of the anger rising within him.

“What did you just say?” He demanded, voice scarily calm but laced with an icy rage. Steve swallowed.

“What… What's wrong with being gay, sir?” Steve hesitated, voice failing him. Richard had downed the glass of bourbon before throwing it at Steve, the crystal shattering on the mantelpiece behind him and sending shards flying.

“What’s wrong, Steven, is that you think it’s okay. No son of mine will think like that, not on my watch,” his father boomed, taking long strides towards him. Steve didn’t dare move, only watched his fist grow nearer as he punched him high on his cheek. He fell to the floor, arms trying to protect his head but it was no use. Richard had ripped his arms away, gripping the front of his shirt and making Steve hover above the ground.

“I didn’t raise a fucking fairy, Steven,” he spat. “A faggot.” Steve recoiled, physically feeling the vitriol his father aimed at his face. Richard had sneered, pulled him close and whispered, “Never forget that, Steven,” before shoving him harshly onto the ground and walking away. Black had clouded the edges of his vision, and he laid on the plush rug until it cleared up. He looked over, found his mother silently watching the TV and sipping her wine, and begged with his eyes for her to help him. To say something. Anything. She didn’t, and Steve had to haul himself off the floor, grasping the couch when his vision swam, and stumbled his way to his room.

The rest of that weekend was spent in his room, gingerly cleaning his face and the couple places where glass had cut him on his arms with a wet washcloth and soap. It was the first time he had ever gotten a concussion. He was fifteen.

He remembers replaying the fight over and over again, feeling like those barbs were directed towards him, too. In hindsight, maybe they were. Maybe his father just knew. Knew he was queer long before Steve ever did. Maybe that’s why he’s always so angry with him, so… disappointed. A groan escapes him and he runs a hand through his hair. He’s been thinking way too damn much for it to be this early in the day.

God, he really wishes Robin was here. He knows he can’t talk to her, but it would be nice just to have someone here to keep him from spiraling and drowning in his thoughts. He pushes himself off the counter and goes over to the cart where the returns sit, hoping that busying himself will occupy his thoughts. He sets a few on the shelves when what Eddie said earlier barrels into him full-force.

“Yeah, the other guys just… really wouldn’t want to be there.”

Jesus fucking Christ, he’s stupid. Of course the other Hellfire guys wouldn’t want to be at his house, they probably still see him as King Steve. Most people do, nowadays. Only the ones he went through hell with know he’s different now, that he’s changed. So really, he can’t fault them for being against the idea of Hellfire at his house. He wouldn’t believe it either if he was in their shoes.

Then again, wouldn’t Eddie or the kids try to convince them he’s different? That he’s not a dick? Shit, he’s been through four apocalypses, three concussions, and survived Russian torture— surely they would give him the benefit of the doubt, right? He’s dropped the bad influences out of his life, found better friends, better family— or can he even say that anymore?— to be with. Wouldn’t they try to stick up for him? Or... is he just not worth it?

Steve clenches his eyes shut, willing his bubbling emotions back down, and grips the movie in his hands so hard the plastic begins to creak. The little voice in his head, one that sounds suspiciously like Robin, tells him to breathe. He does. Deep inhale, hold, long exhale. Over and over and over again until he’s calm, until his head is clear.

He knows what he needs to do now: apologize. If it's one thing Steve Harrington knows, it’s how to apologize. Hell, he’s done it more times than he can count. He knows how to repair burnt bridges and how to get past the tough exterior of a person to pull at their heartstrings for sympathy. He knows the key; he just has to make himself useful. If he can provide things for the kids, for Eddie and the Hellfire crew, then they’ll want him around. That’s how it’s always been. That’s how it is with his parents, with school, with his past friends, and now his current ones. He vaguely recalls his junior year art teacher saying that, "once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, but thrice is a pattern." Which means this, this is something he has to make right.

With a plan solidified in his mind, he goes back to work refilling the shelves with movies, brainstorming ideas to get his family back.

Over the next week, Steve becomes a one man show. He offers up more rides, more movie nights, more free reign of his house and his pool and his car and his money and himself just to make the kids happy. He picks up extra shifts at work just to get extra spending money for them, knowing that they go through twenty bucks in no time.

But… it doesn’t work. Because bit by bit, ride by ride, movie marathon by family dinner by game night by post-nightmare phone call, it becomes painfully clear. Everyone puts on a mask around him. One that says they’re happy to see him, that they’re glad he’s here, but he knows it’s a lie. This, really, shouldn’t be much of a surprise. People don’t stick around him much, so why did he think this was any different?

Maybe it’s because he was finally himself around them, he finally opened up and showed a bit of his true self, and was still rejected. Still pushed away. He wasn’t cowering behind a mask this time, he was just Steve. But it wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t good enough.

To their credit, it starts off slow. Casual comments that are cut off quickly, kicks under dinner tables and pointed throat clearing. It’s one instance during game night where it all clicks.

The Monopoly board is spread out before them in the Byers-Hopper living room. Steve, of course, is losing. He’s not good with investments and savings and he keeps landing on the goddamn ‘jail’ space but he doesn’t really care, not when he’s finally having fun with the kids. He groans when the dice make him land on one of Mike’s properties, shuffling his fake cash to pull out the tax money.

“C’mon this game is totally rigged. How the hell am I losing to a bunch of teens?” He grumbles as Mike proudly snatches the money from his hand. Max snickers from her place beside him, her pale blue eyes rolling as she looks at him.

“You know, if you actually used your brain then maybe you wouldn’t be losing. Ever think of that?” She quips, and Steve huffs. Leave it to him to be called out by a fifteen year old.

“I’m surprised there’s even a brain in there to begin with,” Dustin states. He’s seated across from Steve. “I mean, why else would he have-“

His comment is cut off by Lucas smacking his arm. Dustin looks at him like he’s about to protest when Lucas raises his eyebrows, looking pointedly from Dustin to Steve and back again. Steve can’t hear from his position so far away, but he swears Dustin mutters “shit” before crossing his arms and looking down at the board. Steve looks around at the rest of the group, noticing how none of them seem to want to look at him, choosing to focus rather intently on the cardboard before them.

The rest of the game is filled with awkward silences. Steve can feel them looking at him when he’s occupied, and it makes him feel like shit inside.

It’s on the drive home when it hits him. He is the one that doesn’t fit into their group, into their family. They’re slowly but surely removing him and replacing him with Eddie. With someone who fits. With someone better. It hits him so hard, so fully, that he has to pull over on a quiet street to sob in his empty car.

The first time it's fully solidified in his mind is at a barbecue at the Byers-Hoppers house. Robin can’t come, her aunt from up north is visiting for the weekend and she has to stay home. Steve walks through the house, planning on saying hello to Joyce before joining the party outside. He finds Joyce talking low to Eddie in the kitchen and he pauses in the doorway, watches how Joyce laughs at something Eddie says. How she places her hand on his arm as her eyes crinkle with the weight of her laugh. Eddie is smiling, open and wide, with a flush high on his cheeks that stains his skin pink. His dimples are on full display and it takes pure willpower for Steve not to go and poke at them, to settle his thumb in the divot of his skin.

Joyce leans close to Eddie and says something under her breath, making him blush purely red now and shush her, causing another wave of laughter to ripple through the both of them. The kitchen is filled with warmth, the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the sheer cream-colored curtains that line the two windows as laughter fills the room. It’s light, it’s happiness, it’s love. It’s something Steve hasn’t felt in years.

Steve knocks on the doorframe, waggling his fingers in greeting. They both turn to look at him, and all that warmth from before flees the room. If he hadn’t just seen the thin rays with his own two eyes, he could have sworn even the sun went down as well. He feels a stab of pain in his heart, so sharp it makes his breath stutter. He fights to put a smile on his face, briefly clearing his throat and praying his voice doesn’t sound as faint as he feels.

“Hey, Ms. Byers. Eddie,” he greets. Steve runs a hand through his hair, just to give himself something to do. “Just wanted to say hi before I go outside.”

Eddie’s face has gone completely slack, the only thing convincing Steve he didn’t hallucinate the entire exchange earlier is the flush that had yet to leave his cheeks. In fact, Eddie looks even more red now that he’s made his presence known. Joyce, to her credit, has a small polite smile on her face.

“Thank you, Steve, that's very kind of you,” she replies. She casts a glance at Eddie out of the corner of her eye, something Steve has noticed a lot of people do to each other when he’s around. “You go on outside now, okay? I’m sure the kids are missing you.”

Steve holds back his remark of “yeah, I actually doubt that” and nods, leaving the two of them in the kitchen as he continues down the hallway. He tries hard not to let the harshness of their quick whispers dig further into his already injured heart.

Once outside, he’s greeted by no one. Dustin and Lucas are discussing something rapidly to one another, Dustin gesturing wildly with his hands as Lucas nods along and adds details. Max and El are sitting on a lawn chair together, Max seemingly teaching El how to braid her hair. Mike and Will are sitting in the grass a bit away from the group, shoulders touching and heads bowed together as they talk quietly to one another. Steve smiles softly at them, knowing.

He makes his way over to Hopper, who is manning the grill with a beer in one hand and a spatula in the other. Steve waves and gives him an awkward little smile, and Hopper nods his head, pointing towards a cooler with his beer. Steve grabs one, popping it open and taking an, admittedly, big first swig. Hopper doesn’t notice, or at least doesn’t comment, and Steve looks out over the people he still considers his family. He catches Dustin’s eyes, hoping to have someone to talk to, but the kid only looks away and continues his conversation.

So now Steve is here by himself, slowly nursing a beer, and trying to keep his emotions in check.

It’s just that… he doesn’t know what he did. Was he too overbearing or did he not care enough? Was he too pushy or too distant? Was he just annoying them? Was he just an inconvenience? Did they ever really like him or did they just put up with them out of necessity? Or because they felt bad?

He takes another sip of beer, hating the way it tastes on his tongue but it’s better than the bile slowly rising in his throat. All he wants is for someone to see him, to see who he truly is and like it. To stick around. To stay.

And it’s true, he does have Robin, but sometimes she can’t give him what he needs. Call him a romantic but Steve wants that love, that connection, that intense feeling you get with a partner. He craves it more than anything. He wants to touch, to taste, to feel someone else.

Eddie. He wants Eddie.

A voice interrupts his thoughts.

“Kid, will you go get me a plate for the burgers?” Hopper asks, his gruff voice shoving all of his mushy thoughts aside. Steve nods, sets his beer on top of the cooler, and makes his way inside. He silently dreads ever walking in that room again, dreads having to feel the chill from before. However, the scene in the kitchen is drastically different this time. Joyce is by herself, Eddie nowhere to be seen, and is mixing together slaw in a big tupperware bowl.

Steve knocks on the frame again and is met with a small smile from the older woman. It’s infinitely more warm than the one he was met with when he got there, and he thinks it’s partly due to the lack of a certain metalhead in the room. Joyce sets down her spoon, wiping her hands on a nearby towel, and holds her arms out.

“C’mere, honey,” she murmurs, and Steve tries not to let her soft tone get to him. The last thing he needs is to cry in front of everyone. He walks forwards into her hug, leaning down a little to wrap his arms around her properly, and sighs when she rubs her hands up and down his back. Steve clenches his eyes shut, taking in stuttering breaths that he knows she can hear but thanks every god out there that she doesn’t comment on it. She taps her hands twice on his back and pulls away, reaching up to push some of his hair off his forehead and Steve wills himself to not lean into the touch too much.

“Sorry for not saying a proper hello earlier, I was a bit preoccupied. Eddie- well, that’s not my thing to tell but he needed some help with something and… well, you get it,” she smiles, laughs a little, and Steve smiles back.

This. This is what he wishes he could have with his parents. This lightness, this love. He never will, he knows that, but the little moments like this with Joyce, the way she hugs him and cares for him, are ones he treasures. Ones he wishes he could have everyday. Joyce is a wonderful mother, and part of him wishes he could have her as his own. Hell, she’s been more of a mother to him in the four years he’s known her than his mother ever has. But he knows that isn’t fair. It isn’t fair of him to put his parental issues on her or anyone else. So he doesn’t, and shoves his hands in his pockets instead.

“It’s okay, Ms. Byers, I get it. Sorry to interrupt you two, though,” he apologizes. She waves her hands in a shooing motion.

“Oh don’t apologize for that, honey, it’s okay,” she smiles, then hesitates. “I do want you to promise me something, okay?” Steve nods, and Joyce places her hands on either side of his face. “Promise me you’ll be careful with people, be gentle. Not everyone can be treated the same, some people… they’re special.

“Sometimes, it’s better to listen. Promise me, Steve, that you’ll always listen, okay?” She asks, and Steve has to swallow before he responds.

“I promise, Ms. Byers,” he replies, and she pats his cheek. Her smile has grown, and her eyes have softened.

“I love you, Steve, you know that, right?” Joyce asks, and it’s like the world has stopped moving. He didn’t know that, not really. Sure, he knew she liked him but he didn’t know she…

He doesn’t realize he’s tearing up until Joyce coos at him, wiping away a few stray tears that have escaped with her thumbs.

“I-I didn’t know you- I’m sorry, I don’t-“ Steve stutters out, but Joyce shushes him.

“You don’t have to apologize, Steve, it’s alright,” she insists. Her thin arms pull him into another hug and he buries his face in her shoulder. The angle is a little awkward, but it’s a comfort Steve hasn’t had in ages so he stays. “It’s gonna be alright.”

Her small hands rub up and down his back as he holds back tears. He regulates his breathing, taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, until he’s sure he won’t cry. He pulls back from the hug and wipes at his eyes, sure that they're red-rimmed and a little puffy, but Joyce only smiles that warm smile and pats his cheek again. Steve smiles at her, the first genuine smile he thinks he’s had in awhile, and it feels good. To smile and know it's real.

Joyce turns to the counter behind her and picks up a plate, handing it to Steve. His brows furrow, and he hesitantly takes the offered crockery.

“How did you-“

“I had a feeling,” she interrupts him with a wink. “Now go on before Hop burns the yard down.”

Steve smiles and goes back outside, handing the plate to Hop and ignoring his grumble of “took ya long enough”, before picking his beer back up and taking a much needed swig. A few minutes later, they’re all eating. Eddie has joined Dustin and Lucas in their rambling, all three of them loudly talking over one another. Steve watches them; wishing, wanting, yearning. Joyce bumps her shoulder into his, making him swivel his head to look down at her. She smiles, almost knowingly, and Steve blushes. He clears his throat and looks away, focusing on fixing his burger rather than whatever the fuck that was.

He sits alone away from the group, catching occasional glances from Joyce, Dustin, and Hopper. Joyce is concerned, he can tell that much, and part of her almost looks sad. Dustin looks conflicted, like he can’t decide if he wants to be mad from a distance or just come right up to Steve and say it to his face. Steve wouldn’t be surprised if he did the latter. Hopper, to Steve’s complete unsurprise, looks uninterested and, frankly, fed up with this whole situation. Steve doesn’t blame him, he is too.

After the food is gone, and dessert is served, Steve heads inside to help clean up. He washes dishes quietly with Joyce, while she dries them and puts them away. As he finishes up the last plate, Will comes into the kitchen.

“Hey, Mom? The party wanted to play some board games, is that okay?” He requests, and Steve can feel Joyce soften beside him. She smiles.

“Of course, honey. Make sure you ask the girls what they want to play, too, okay?” Will rolls his eyes and smiles, a mannerism Steve notes he definitely got from Mike.

“Got it, Mom,” he replies, and runs off. Steve turns back to the sink, realizing he’s been scrubbing the plate well past the point of clean, and rinses it off.

“I um.. I think I’m going to head out, Ms. Byers,” he begins. He hands the plate to her. “I’ve got a shift tomorrow and uh… I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

He doesn’t mention that he doesn’t want to repeat the last game night, where everyone kept glancing at him like he was a bomb set to explode at any moment. He doesn’t say that he can’t handle their stares for any longer than he already has.

“Oh, are you sure? You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want to,” Joyce offers, but Steve shakes his head.

“I really should be going, sorry.”

“Alright, dear. Let me walk you out,” she insists, moving to take off her apron.

“I’ll walk him out, Joyce, don’t worry about it,” Hopper's gruff voice interrupts from the doorway. Steve swallows and nods, drying his hands off on a towel. He looks at Joyce, seeing her share a glance and a smile with Hopper before looking back at him. He smiles, finally beginning to think that maybe… maybe things will be okay.

“Thank you, Ms. Byers. For everything,” he expresses. He leans down to give her a hug, her arms quickly hugging him back.

“It’s alright, dear. You come to me if you ever want to talk, you hear?” Steve pulls away from the hug.

“I will, promise,” he hesitates. Steve looks down at his hands, shaking from where they’re clutching each other, and takes a breath. “I… I love you too.”

He looks up right as Joyce pulls him into another hug. He laughs a little, and she pats his back before pulling away with a “be safe”. Hopper clears his throat from the door and Steve takes a step back, nods to Joyce, and follows the other man outside.

They step out on the front porch together, and Steve is prepared to continue walking to his car when Hop places a hand on his shoulder. He stops, and turns to find the man looking at him seriously.

“Son, I want you to promise me something,” he grumbles, and Steve begins to feel a strange sense of deja vu. While Joyce’s tone was soft, Hopper’s is deep and leaves no room for hesitation. He vaguely has a thought that this is what his father would have been like if things were different. If he were different. Steve nods.

“Promise me you’ll fix our shit, alright? I don’t wanna get in the middle of… whatever the hell this is but promise you’ll be better, okay?” He commands, and all the thoughts Steve had earlier about thinking things would be okay fly out the window.

“Y-yes, sir,” he stutters out. Hop claps his shoulder, mumbles a “get home safe”, before pulling a pack of smokes out his pocket and lighting one up. Steve turns, shoves his shaking hands in his pockets, and walks to his car.

Getting in his car is a blur of unconscious actions. He’s driving down a barely lit backroad when he registers that his eyes are stinging, and something warm and wet is dripping down his cheeks. He pulls over on the side of the road, shifting his car into park, and he sits there. He reaches up with a shaky hand and wipes his cheek, his hand coming back wet and shining in the faint glow of the moon. The sight breaks him, and an ugly sob rips its way out his throat. He chokes on an inhale as tears fight their way out, and he hugs his arms around himself as a sad semblance of comfort. His forehead finds purchase on the steering wheel, and his tears stain the leather before dripping on his lap.

He cries because he knows he’s the problem, that he’s the one fucking up. He cries because everyone thinks so, everyone knows. The kids know. Eddie knows. Joyce knows, but she’s just too kind to say it to his face. Hell, even Hopper knows. He cries because he doesn’t know what he did wrong. He cries because he doesn’t think anyone really wants him to fix it.

It’s the second time on a drive home from the Byers-Hopper house that he has to pull over and cry.

He struggles to inhale a deep breath and sits up, harshly wiping his tears away with his hand, uncaring that it rubs his skin raw and red. Sniffling, he puts his car in drive and goes home. Toeing his shoes off at the door is the only thing he thinks to do before he stumbles his way upstairs and collapses on his bed, snuggling into the thin comforter and falling into a fitful sleep.

After a slow shift at Family Video the next day, Steve returns to the darkness of his home with a plan. He can still be useful. They may not have to know, but he can still do something to help. To try and save them before they need to be saved. He can be a preventative measure for them, can stop them from getting hurt before they even know they’re in danger.

He shrugs off his work vest, throwing it on his desk chair as he searches his closet for an old sweatshirt. He finds one, the front adorned with white block letters that read ‘Tigers Swim Team’ and tugs it on. His nail bat finds purchase in his hand as he tucks a flashlight in his back pocket. The walkie Dustin gave him is hooked in his belt loop, just in case. He leaves all the lights on in the house and shuts the door, skirting around his house to begin his walk in the woods.

After four bouts with the Upside Down, he doubts that they’re in the clear, that it’s finally over. He thought it was the first time, then the second, and by the third he was skeptical. Now, though, he doesn’t know what to think. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was a round five, or six, or seven. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if it never stopped. But each and every time, they were unprepared. They were surprised, and it nearly cost them every time. But if Steve could prevent that surprise, give them all a heads up before it becomes a big problem, then maybe— just maybe— it’ll come in handy. He’ll come in handy. He’ll be useful again.

So, he walks the woods of Hawkins. His feet crunch the dead leaves piled underneath trees as he trudges through the woods. The flashlight shines long shadows on the ground in front of him, lighting up the pale gray bark of trees and making the eyes of rodents and raccoons shine amber and red.

A rustle sounds a few feet away and he jumps at the noise. He pauses and stands still, listening for the shrill chittering of demodogs or the heavy, thudding footsteps of a demogorgon. He waits, and his flashlight reveals a small fox walking out from behind a tree. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and continues walking.

His feet carry him to Lover’s Lake, the water lapping lazily at the shore with the warm summer breeze. Out here, the lights from town are distant, making the stars shine brightly and reflect in the water. Steve stands there, watches as the artificial light of his flashlight reveals the small ripples on the surface of the water, and waits.

He waits for a lumbering figure to emerge out of the murky depths, to claw its way onto the shore and stalk off into the woods. He waits for chirps muffled by water and splashing to sound in his ears as four-legged creatures swim to the beaches. He waits for the screeches of demonic bats to echo off the trees around him as they fly out of the water and take to the sky. He waits, but it never comes. The lake stays silent.

So he walks.

He follows the road leading to the lake out, letting it take him to the highway that leads out of town. His feet stop as they come across a crack in the road, the crack he took in the other world to get Eddie home safely. The crack that is closed over with black tar, leaving a dark line on the ashen gray asphalt. He remembers clawing his way out of that crack, Eddie’s lifeless body over his shoulders as he slowly bled out.

Nancy had driven her station wagon over, opening the back so he could lay Eddie down as they rode to the hospital. She had asked Steve to drive so she could patch him up, but he refused. He couldn’t leave Eddie, not when he finally got him out. Not when he was barely hanging on. So she threw the first aid kit she had stashed in her car at him and drove to the hospital. Steve had done his best to stop the bleeding, the stark white cloth immediately turning red when he pressed it to Eddie’s skin. They almost lost him. But they didn’t. He’s alive.

Eddie. Eddie.

His head swivels to the forest next to him, the one that leads straight to the trailer park, and he runs. He jumps over fallen trees, feet thudding against the dry earth and leaves as his breath picks up. Orange street lights shine through branches as he draws nearer, and he only slows his pace when he breaks out from the line of trees. His feet swiftly take him to the sight of Eddie’s old trailer, the vacant lot standing out against the fullness of the park. The wooden front steps are still there, partially broken and shifted. The grass has yet to grow in fully, bare spots of dirt showing through the green. His shoes crunch on the gravel as he takes a step closer, inspecting the ground and poking at it with his bat as if it would move. As if the gate would open up just by him being here.

It doesn’t. Steve steps back.

He turns to leave the park, eyes wandering and finding a familiar cream-colored van parked at a trailer a few rows away. Eddie and his Uncle were granted a new trailer for their trouble, really the bare minimum they deserve after all the shit they went through, but they took it in stride. Eddie and Wayne spent the first few weeks after spring break making it into their new home once Eddie was released from the hospital, and Steve had done his best to help them out. But he knew they needed time alone, time to heal, so he let them be. He hasn’t been back there since then.

He kicks a stray piece of gravel, watching as it tumbles a few feet away and disappears into the grass, as he makes his way out of Forest Hills. Houses blur by as he walks the residential streets, only stopping when his own comes into view. Steve sighs, and walks up the concrete driveway, through the large wooden doors, and into the silence of his house. He doesn’t bother taking off his shoes, reveling a little in the dirty footprints he leaves behind on his mothers’ ornate runner that covers the length of the hallway. The analog on the stove tells him it's a little past three in the morning, and he sighs. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, he fills it up with water before shuffling out of the kitchen. He flops on the couch, sips his water, and waits.

He waits for the sun to peek over the trees in the backyard, casting long shadows on the curtains that cover the windows and glass doors. He waits for the warm rays to shine through the large window in the living room, the one that faces the road, and light up the rug that rests under the coffee table in soft hues of yellow. He sits his empty glass on the table. He waits. And he gets up.

He goes upstairs, changes his shirt, and grabs his vest. Steve slips the walkie off his belt loop and places it on his desk, the flashlight landing right beside it. He props the bat next to his chair, and Steve looks at it, looks at the bent nails sticking haphazardly out of the wood and how it splintered in places from too much force. How some of the nails are covered in dried, blackened goop and dirt. How it's sharp and dangerous, a weapon. How it’s chosen to protect.

At this moment, Steve feels like the bat. The rough wood is his exterior, the splinters through it are the cracks. The holes in his facade. The places where people got too close, where people hurt him. The nails are what makes him strong. They’re the kids, Joyce and Hop, Eddie and Robin. They’re his family. They mold him into a weapon meant to protect, to keep them safe.

But just like Steve, the bat isn’t needed until it’s necessary. Until the world is ending. But until that time comes, the bat is left out of sight. It’s hidden away, moved from place to place just in case, but never used. Never wanted.

Steve walks out the door.

His shift at Family Video passes by like every other day, slow and full of know-it-all customers that never seem to understand that he can’t magically summon movies out of his ass whenever they ask. Robin comes in around lunchtime, and they spend the rest of their joint shift making fun of the ridiculous movie covers that adorn various romcoms. He goes home alone, sheds his vest, and once again walks the town of Hawkins.

He does it again the next night. And the night after that. And the night after that. Until it’s been a week and Steve hasn’t slept for more than a couple hours a night. He doesn’t mind, just means there’s less nightmares to wake him up before sunrise.

Less nights where chittering and the thuds of heavy footsteps strike fear down to his core. Less nights where the chill of fog and night air pierce his skin, warring with his senses against the hot breath hitting the back of his neck from deadly flower-shaped mouths. Less nights where the harsh scraping of monstrous nails against rusted metal and the echoey bangs of heavy, meaty bodies against solid bus walls fill his ears. Less nights where he can feel the thick, choking air of the tunnels, can feel the wispy particles filling his lungs and coating the inside of his mouth.

Less nights filled with muffled Russian echoing in his ears, the harsh texture of rope around his wrists, arms, and chest. Less nights where the sickening crunch of fists against bone and the metallic taste of blood in his mouth linger for hours after he’s awoken, shallowly breathing and pleading to be let go. Less nights where he can feel the blood in his teeth, coating his tongue and dripping down the back of his throat, and he has to run to the bathroom to puke the phantom feeling away.

Less nights he wakes up alone, empty house hollow around him. Less nights he cries to himself in the silence of his room, wishing, hoping, yearning for something. For something to happen, to change. For something to get better. For him to get better.

On the eighth night, he finds his feet have taken him to the edge of Hawkins. The brown road sign reads ‘Leaving Hawkins! Come Again Soon!’, and it stares at him from a few feet away. He looks past the sign at the stretch of road that disappears around a curve, trees following the line of asphalt and distant street lights lighting up their leaves with an orange glow.

He thinks about what it would be like to leave Hawkins, to pack up his clothes in his car and leave town. To follow the road and go around that curve, to not worry about ever coming back. No one needs him here, not anymore, so what’s holding him back?

Maybe this will fix him.

Robin might miss him for a bit, probably curse him and his whole family when she figures it out, but she’ll move on. She’ll find someone better. Hell, she’ll probably go to Eddie too. They already have some sort of secret friendship thing going on between them anyway. Really, he wouldn’t blame her.

Eddie probably wouldn’t care. Shit, he might even throw a party celebrating the fact that he’s gone. Steve snorts at the thought, closing his eyes and taking a breath.

Would it really be so bad if he just disappeared?

But then there’s the kids, left behind with no one to protect them. Sure, Robin and Eddie and Nancy are here, but Nancy is off to Emerson in the fall, Robin surely bound to follow in similar footsteps, and Eddie has made it well-known that he’s getting the hell out of here. If everyone is gone, who will be here to protect them when it comes back?

He rakes a hand harshly through his hair, pulling a bit at the ends and hating how greasy it feels on his fingertips. He can’t think like that, he’ll just worry himself into a panic and that’s the last thing he needs right now; a panic attack on the side of the road. He turns around, walking back towards town as the sky fades into light. He gets home right when sunlight begins burning the tops of the trees and collapses on the couch, sleeping until his noon shift.

He’s exhausted when he gets home, having to close up Family Video after a ten hour shift by himself, but he knows he can’t sleep. Not now. So he does what he usually does now when he gets home and grabs his essentials for his rounds, something that’s become routine for him.

He shrugs off his work clothes, replacing it with what has become his patrol outfit; the old swim team sweatshirt and a faded, ripped pair of light blue jeans. The sweatshirt is filled with holes, the baggy sleeves having caught on briars and branches alike, that allow the white of his shirt to show through. The jeans share a similar fate, the knees scraped up and the denim fraying from the unhemmed edges.

His white Nikes are stained a gray-ish brown from the nightly treks through the woods, small bits of leaves and debris sticking to the laces and in the grooves of the tread. The flashlight finds its place in his back left pocket, an extra pair of batteries landing in his front pocket after an incident a few nights ago where his flashlight died on him out in the middle of nowhere— he was forced to stumble through the woods until the sun began to rise and he was able to find his way back home. He didn’t sleep that night.

The nail bat is crusted with dried bits of mud sticking to the slowly rusting metal, shredded bits of leaves and undergrowth tangled in a green and brown mass. Clumps of dirt litter the floor under the bat, and likely mark a line in the hallway from his room down to the front door. Steve hopes it's still there if his parents come home.

It’s dark outside, only the street light at the end of the driveway illuminates the concrete and stepping stone pathway to the front door. Steve steps out on the front stoop, taking a deep breath of cool summer night air, and starts walking.

He walks out onto the street, uncaring at this point if anyone sees him or not. What does he have to lose? Hopper would probably tell him he’s stupid— something he’s well aware of at this point— and tell him to go inside. Or maybe he would drive him home, take the bat, and leave.

A small, traitorous part of Steve wants Hop to find him. Wants him to ask what the hell he’s doing walking around at night alone in the dark. Wants him to coax him in his old beat up truck and take him back to the Byers’ house. Wants some of Joyce’s hot chocolate as he sits on the couch and explains what he’s been doing, what’s been going on. Ask, desperately, why everyone hates him. Wants them to tell him he’s wrong, that no one hates him. That it’s just a misunderstanding.

But it doesn’t happen. All of that is a lie.

It’s a lie Steve has secretly been telling himself under the cover of darkness alone in his bed, lying awake and exhausted but unable to sleep. It’s a lie he tells himself when he sees any of the kids so he can act normal, act okay. It’s a lie he tells himself when Eddie grins at him, wide and gleaming, eyes sparkling with the afternoon sun beaming in from the storefront windows.

It’s those grins, those looks Eddie gives him sometimes that almost convinces him the lie is fake. Like Eddie is sharing an inside joke with him, only Steve doesn’t know what it is. Eddie doesn’t come around often but when he does… god, it’s like he’s the only one in the room.

Eddie looks at him with his whole body, always focusing on him so wholly and touching in some way. A hand on his bicep, an arm slung around his shoulder, even his arms wrapped around his waist one time. He was friendly, they were friends, until he wasn’t. Until Steve did something stupid that he still can’t figure out and Eddie is avoiding him.

The crunch of gravel under his sole brings him back into his head a little. He looks up, finding the pale orange glow of a lamp through a trailer window, and curses. His feet have brought him to where his mind always seems to go these days: Eddie.

He stands outside of the trailer, watching the way the little bits of weeds around the base shift and sway in the wind. The sky is filled with patches of clouds, light gray ripples standing out against the black sky from the glow of the moon. Steve isn’t completely sure how he got here, only that he started walking and didn’t really… stop.

Wayne’s truck is gone, leaving only Eddie’s cream-colored van among the gravel and grass. Which means Eddie is home and, judging by the light in the window, awake. Steve has a fleeting thought that he should turn around, walk back home, and try to forget he ever came here. Try to forget that he didn’t mean to, that his head and his heart are traitorous beings that have conspired against him to bring his body to the one place— one person— where he isn’t welcome. He tries to move, to will his legs and his feet to catch up with his brain and the urge to run. But they don’t. They stay frozen to the ground, rooted in place as if they belong here. As if he belongs here.

A voice cuts his thoughts off, one that he could pick out in a crowd full of people. His eyes snap to the front door of the trailer, now open and spilling warm light onto the wooden steps that lead down to the gravel drive. A figure grows near, tall and lanky and Steve feels like he’s trapped. His thoughts get louder, yelling and screaming at him to run run ruN RUN RUN-

Hands on his shoulders. Eddie’s face in front of him.

Eddie looks panicked, his dark eyes wide and dancing around as if searching Steve's face for… something. He must not find it, because the two little lines between his brows appear and his mouth starts moving. It’s all muffled, like he’s trying to talk through glass. Steve blinks.

“-ington? Steve,” Eddie’s pleading voice finds his ears as he shakes his shoulders, the fog in his head dissipating as the strained way his name falls from his lips. Steve hums. He blinks again.

“Oh,” he breathes out, voice barely louder than a whisper. Eddie is here. He’s in front of him. He can see him. He’s here and he can see and Steve shouldn’t be here he needs to go-

“Stevie, are you okay?” The fear in Eddie’s voice cuts off his train of thought— something that seems to happen a lot nowadays— and Steve feels every sensation return to his body. The heavy hands on his shoulders, soft and warm and missing their signature rings. The distant chill of the night air on his exposed bits of skin seeping away at the small amount of space between them. The faint puff of air on his face from the man before him. The fact that all of those things are from Eddie.

Steve clears his throat, swallows. Tries to focus his eyes on Eddie’s face.

“I’m fine, Eddie. I um.. sorry,” he trails off. He tries to smile, at least give something to reassure him, to keep him from asking questions. Steve doesn’t think he could answer them.

To his surprise, Eddie lets out a breath of relief, the fear dissipating from his eyes as they clench shut and his head drops. His shoulders move with his lungs as he takes a breath before looking back up at him.

“Jesus H. Christ, you scared the shit outta me, Steve. Thought…” he trails off. His voice wavers. “Thought you were gone. Like… like her.”

Oh. Chrissy. Fuck.

“Shit- sorry, Eds, I didn’t even realize- fuck, I’m so sorry,” Steve pleads. He takes in his surroundings, realizes he’s been standing out here, alone, for who knows how long. He needs to leave. “I-I should go.”

Eddie’s brows furrow, and he tilts his head. “You don’t have to leave, Stevie, it’s fi-“ he cuts himself off.

Steve looks up at that, unsure of when he stopped looking at Eddie, and takes in his pinched expression. The one that’s trained to the ground. The one that’s trained towards-

“What the fuck is this?”

Shit.

“I-it’s not what it looks like, I swear!” He begs, voice sounding unfamiliar even to his own ears. It’s raspy and breaks after a few words. When was the last time he really spoke to anyone today?

“I don’t wanna hurt you, Eds, I really don’t- please, believe me,” he pleads. “It’s just for protection! I don’t-“

“Why are you covered in mud, Steve?” Eddie cuts him off, voice strange and cautious and his hands tighten their grip on his shoulders. Steve knows he doesn’t look the best, knows that his clothes are dirty, but he looks down at himself anyway. His eyes focus on a leaf stuck to his shoelace. He shrugs.

Eddie moves in front of him, a quick thing that Steve suspects is him shaking his head. He mumbles something he can’t hear, voice only a rumble in his throat but Steve knows enough to know that people only talk under their breath when they’re mad. When he’s done something wrong.

He pulls away. Eddie’s hands drop off his shoulders.

“I-I should go. Sorry for bothering you, an-… and keeping you awake,” Steve stutters out, clearing his throat when his voice breaks. He chances a look at him, finding concern written on Eddie’s face. It softens when they make eye contact, and Eddie shakes his head.

“I wasn’t asleep, Stevie. Don’t really, uh.. sleep much, these days. I usually just wait around for Wayne to get home to catch a couple hours. Doesn’t feel safe here by myself, you know?” Eddie confesses, mouth turned upwards in a small, sardonic smile. Steve nods. He does know, he’s never felt safe in his home. With or without people. He’s been going through it for years, long before the events of ‘83. He doesn’t say any of that though, doesn’t think he has the right to.

Eddie steps towards him, closing the bit of distance Steve made between the two, and rests his hand on the arm holding the bat.

“Come inside, Steve,” Eddie requests, voice low and soft. Eddie’s smiling at him. It’s that soft, small, Eddie smile. One that Steve has only seen a handful of times. It’s asking him to say yes, and Steve… he’s weak. So, so weak.

“Okay.”

Eddie’s smile grows.

His hand wraps further around his arm, tugging him towards the open trailer door and Steve feels betrayed that now is when his feet decide to move. He follows Eddie, watching the way he’s glancing at him the entire time. Eddie pauses at the doorway.

“Steve,” he whispers, and Steve looks at him. His hand travels down his arm, causing goosebumps in its wake despite the layer of fabric between their skin. It pauses over the hand still gripping the bat, thumb brushing along his knuckles. “Let it go.”

Steve looks at him, searches those dark brown eyes for fear or hate or anger but finds none. He only finds care. Concern. Love.

It’s terrifying.

He loosens his grip and Eddie takes it from him, the comforting weight of the bat replaced with the warmth of Eddie’s hand. He props it just inside the door to the trailer and leads him over the threshold by the grip on his hand. He’s led over to the couch where a hand on his back urges him to sit down. Steve does, and instantly sinks into the well-worn cushions.

“I’ll be right back, okay? Just gonna get you some water,” Eddie informs him, squeezing his hand briefly before releasing his grip and turning the corner to venture into the kitchen. Steve watches him go, the way the baggy and worn band shirt hangs off his frame. The way his sweatpants are bunched up at the ankle as if they’re too big for him. The way his hair is pulled into a messy bun at the back of his head that swings a little when he walks away. Even now, he’s beautiful.

Shit. He’s so gone for this man.

Eddie returns with a glass of water and flops down on the couch beside him, pressing the cool surface of the cup into his palm. He takes it with a shaky hand, his other joining it to help stabilize the glass. It doesn’t work.

He takes a small sip of water, the liquid feeling like heaven against his dry throat. They sit in silence until Steve finishes half the glass. Then, Eddie speaks.

“Why were you outside at two in the morning, Stevie?” His voice is gentle, and it makes Steve want to cry. He swallows.

“I- I don’t know,” he deflects, lies. Anything to not talk about it.

The harsh sound of a mock game show buzzer startles him, and he turns to find Eddie with his hands cupped around his mouth. Steve grins and lets his head drop, and Eddie nudges his shoulder. He takes a deep breath, focusing on the surface of the water in his hands.

“I have to keep them safe, Eddie,” he confesses. Eddie stays silent, hand gently rubbing his forearm. “It’s what I need to do. What I have to do.”

Silence stretches between them, then, “who, Steve? Who do you have to keep safe?”

‘You,’ he wants to say. ‘You almost died. It’s never been that close before, not in the four years this shit has been going on. You and Max almost died, and I wasn’t there to protect you. I wasn’t with you and Dustin to keep you both safe, to help fight off the bats and urge you through the gate. I wasn’t with Max and Lucas and Erica, wasn’t there to fight off Carver and save Max just a little bit earlier. I wasn’t there, but I should have been. Carver should have beat me to pieces, not Lucas. It should have been me the bats got to, not you. It should have been me, it should have been me, it should have been me.’

Hands fall over his as Eddie takes the glass from him. He didn’t realize his hands were shaking that bad in his revere, causing the water to spill over the sides and onto the brown carpet below them. The glass thunks on the coffee table before Eddie rests his hands over Steve’s, stills their shaking.

“Hey, talk to me, Stevie,” he practically begs. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Steve looks at him, sees the worry in his eyes, and wets his lips with his tongue. Doesn’t miss the way Eddie’s eyes flicker down at the movement. He clenches his fists.

“Please don’t tell Robin,” he pleads. If she found out about this, if she knew, he wouldn’t be allowed outside alone ever again. She would worry about him, keep him under lock and key to make sure he wouldn’t do anything stupid. She would stay with him during the night, insert herself firmly by his side until she was sure he was okay. She would make him sleep in his own bed, trapped between his own walls. Trapped in his own house. He can’t stand that place, can’t handle the echoey walls and empty rooms. Can’t stand not being able to do anything for anyone. Can’t stand to be useless.

He’s just wasting time right now. He shouldn’t be here, talking to Eddie, when he could be checking the gates. He should be out there trying to save people, not himself. He should be trying to save his family. He could already be too late. It might have already come back while he was distracted and they could all be gone. It could have been waiting until he was occupied, waiting for an opening to strike. They could be in danger right now. They could be dead.

“Alright, I can do that. I won’t tell her but… Steve, why-“ Steve cuts him off by standing up on shaky legs, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Steve?”

“I need to go, Eddie, I need to- they could- I need to go,” the words tumble out of his mouth, words he isn’t quite sure even make sense but he doesn’t care. He just needs to get out.

Steve walks over to the door, eyes locking on the bat propped there, before he hears Eddie stand up behind him. He turns to find Eddie holding his hands out in front of him like he’s trying to placate a wild animal and, at this moment, he kinda feels like one. His heart is beating too fast and he can feel his breathing quicken. His throat closes up as panic claws its way upwards and clouds his vision, muffling his hearing. Eddie’s mouth moves but Steve can’t hear it through the cotton in his ears. He backs towards the door, hating the fear in Eddie’s eyes as he does so.

His back hits the wall next to the door and he turns, hand finding the rough wood of the bat almost instantly, before he runs out the door. The small “sorry” he lets out is an afterthought, thrown over his shoulder right before the trailer door slams shut behind him and his feet crunch on gravel as he runs towards town.

His blind panic takes him to Dustin’s house first, finding all the lights turned off save for the faint glow of the hall night light through sheer curtains. He stays there for a minute or two, waiting for the sign of flickering lights. Nothing comes.

A couple streets over, he stops in front of Lucas’s house, finds the same thing. Dark. He stands there and waits. No flickering. He runs.

The Wheelers. Dark. He waits, no flickering. He runs.

The Byers-Hoppers. Dark. Waits. No flickering. Runs.

Max. Dark. Waits. Dark. Runs.

Robin. Dark. Waits. Dark. Runs.

His house. Light.

They’re safe. He collapses.

He sits heavily on the front stoop, bat falling to the ground and knocking against the concrete with a thud. His knees come up to his chest and his arms wrap tightly around them as he rasps for breath, the air coming in short, quick bursts. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of his calves, hard enough to leave bruises. His forehead rests heavily on his knees and his eyes sting, welling with tears as the fear slowly fades away.

He sits outside, struggling for breath until the sun begins to rise, and waits. When the sun finds its way over the trees, he makes his way inside to get ready for his opening shift.

The bat finds a new home in his trunk.

Taglist: @tea-beloved @starry-eyedlune @hyperfixationgoddess @zerokrox-blog @nicovania @invisibleflame812 @chaoticvictorianspirit @justforthedead89 @dacremontgomeryay @vhelt @adhdsummer @nerd-and-nervous @i-have-three-feelings @mimicori @remuslupinisthevoiceofgod @solliesolesito @romanticdestruction @vanillatwist @bowl-o-queerios @grimmfitzz

(If you want to be added or removed please let me know!)

[skeletonsloverockcandy]

One thing I’m seeing on this re-read of Dracula Daily that I’m already really enjoying, it’s all the little details we didn’t catch before

When we first started we didn’t know who Jonathan Harker was and to us he was just a silly little British man who was ignoring the obvious warning signs, so there was a comedic element to the dramatic irony of him going to Castle Dracula

But now that we know who Jonathan is and we care about him, it hits much harder all the subtle horror elements we missed while focusing on this good friend telling us about his travels

From the first entry, people picking up on the dog barking under his window and being like “is that Dracula? Does it start this early?” Being skeeved out by Dracula’s overly familiar letter to Jonathan, which at first seemed perfectly reasonable except for the name attached at the end, and picking up on all the terrible foreshadowing for what will be Jonathan’s living hell over the next month in his Castle.

And people this time picking up on the bravery of the wife of the innkeeper who gave him a crucifix, begging him to stay or wait, to not go to the castle, of the terror of knowing that Dracula was in correspondence with her husband to get the letter to Jonathan and the sort of subtle threat they must be under at all times, of the significance of “for your mother’s sake” knowing what Dracula does to children. She is no longer perceived as a random background character, but an active player forced to be a bystander who is trying desperately to help this ignorant soul in any way she can even if she knows it might be useless.

I love people realizing Jonathan is skeptical and off-put, but not enough to deter his mission. He’s not oblivious, just making an effort to remain open-minded to the culture and superstitions and beliefs he is not familiar with, since he’s aware it will be wildly different from his own (to the best of his ability for being an Englishman from the 1890s) and pointedly dismissing the things that might be red flags as an attempt to rationalize because nothing truly concerning has happened yet to provoke him to leave, and he doesn’t want to be deterred by something he’s getting worked up for for no reason yet, he couldn’t do his job otherwise and people are depending on him

Idk, I just like this deeper analysis and thought now that people are already familiar and attached to his character, and now know what happens, so they can properly point out when something is foreshadowing later events or themes in the novel, and they can pick up on it quicker

Even something as simple as people noticing the other meals mentioned in the first entry because of all the focus on Paprika Hendl last year makes me happy :)

I like that they are giving our protagonist more credit now, knowing the character he turns into later in the novel (a badass)

It is satisfying :)))

[cheezbites]

Dating König

✎: My third blog already!!! (Thank you all so much for the previous notes on my Chris McLean blog LMAO)

♡Summary: Wholesome head cannons of dating König💕!!!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Bf!König dreaded shopping; but when it came to shopping with you? He’s down. He'd show he valued spending time together - being with you felt like a melody of heartbeats, each beat echoing his love. And since taking your sweet time, inspecting every cute item you saw, König would be exhausted after hours of consecutive shopping.

And still, he would do it all with a smile to make you smile. The worth-it part of it all to him was the astonishing Haul's he received after. From you trying on short skin-tight dresses, to matching onesies... He truly enjoyed it all, mostly for you. Aside from his complete oblivion to fashion or anything of that sort - he'd pretend for you.

Bf!König would reserve a table for you both at a nostalgic fast-food joint. When your meals were served to you - You could distinctly remember him asking for no pickles on his burger, yet they ended up being there.

"It's fine, I'll just take them out." He tried to reason with you because he knew how far you were willing to go over this for him; even if it was as minor as being over a pickle. You were a

"Excuse me, he asked for no pickles." Girlfriend, he was the reserved boyfriend who would awkwardly watch. At least you got a refund and a newly made burger for him. (He low-key loves it when you stand up for him, though).

Bf!König adored it when you cooked for him, he loved your meals and appreciated the time you spent making them. They were his happy place, he was a 'love goes through the stomach' kind of guy. "Danke, meine Liebe, du behandelst mich so gut." (Thank you, my love, you treat me so well.)

So you often teach König how to bake, cook, stir fry... all the basics. Most of your inside jokes were born from your failures, especially baking. You guys baked cookies this one time, they had increased in size tenfold. It was a giant cookie circle to put it simply. Every time you baked cookies, the 'Cookie Monster' joke would be repeated countless times.

Bf!König couldn't stand long separations, so you swapped pieces of clothing to keep each other's scents close. You wore his shirt (which looked like a baggy short dress on your figure), and you gave him a custom-made black bracelet and hair ties. As well as an oversized hoodie that looked normal on him.

Bf!König wasn't a morning person, at all. He would still routinely send you good morning texts that made you smile from ear to ear every time you received them.

"Guten Morgen, mein Liebling. Hope you slept well and dreamt of us. Sending u hugs and kisses"

"Guten Morgen, Liebling. Sending u extra ❤️ and virtual hugs to start your day off right. Ich vermisse dich"

Bf!König dealt with the spiders around the house for you, whenever he heard you unexpectedly screech, gasp, or gush "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." He knew what he had to do.

"See? They're harmless." He quipped as he guided them outside with the plate and glass combo.

"No, it was about to kill me! What if it bit me," you mindlessly blurted whilst rushing back and forth.

"Then you'd be Spider Woman, no? You'd fit perfectly being a badass superhero."

Bf!König shared a secret stash of snacks that you hide from everyone else and enjoy together during movie nights. When you fell asleep mid-movie, he carried you back to your room bridal style without disturbing you.

"Good night, meine Leibe." He silently muttered before gently planting a kiss on your head.

Bf!König Was perplexed whenever you held up two obscurely different eye shadows up to him, and asked him which one he preferred. To him, they appeared identical. But for you, one was a vibrant lavender, a touch too saturated, while the other, was a soft violet, more versatile for various outfits.

"Aren't they ... the same colour?"

"Excuse moi?!"

Bf!König Let you do his skincare. Though skincare was another thing he was completely oblivious to, he mildly enjoyed it. All he did was rinse his face with tap water, apply lotion and called it a night. On the other hand, your routine was the definition of intricate. And so before movie night, you used cleanser, face masks, serums, moisturisers and all that good stuff on him.

PART TWO IS OUT !!

Enjoyed this blog? Then…

Read the Ghost version here!

(Or the Price version <3)

Soap Version

Gaz Version

Masterlist

[pillow-anime-talk]

first meeting with a very strong girl.

request: hiii!!! can i do a request? gon, killua, kurapika & leorio and.. what are their thoughts when they first saw you and got to know you because the reader is such a strong badass and very beautiful woman/girl? thank you!! 🤗💗

# tags: scenario; strangers/?; light romance; fluff; a bit of comedy; badass!reader; hunter!reader; sfw

includes: female reader ft. gon freecss, killua zoldyck, kurapika & leorio paradinight {hxh}

— GON

↘ He met you during his time on Greed Island when Mrs. Biscuit started training him and Killua. You were the granddaughter of a short woman and for many months you traveled with her, expanded your knowledge and fighting skills.

↘ So you showed up during one of the two boys’ training sessions, greeting your beloved grandma and bringing a paper bag filled with delicious, still hot food. With a smile, you invited everyone to the meal, and Gon looked at you more closely.

↘ You had by far the most sincere and friendly expression on your face he had ever met; your eyes were very warm and shiny, your smile was sincere, and your attitude showed no malevolence. Also, you smelled like freshly picked daisies and juicy peaches, and your voice sounded really nice.

↘ Gon immediately liked you, and as soon as it was time to train, he was literally delighted. You easily jumped between the enormous stones thrown in your direction, silently approached the opponent and aimed with the greatest accuracy at the target using small but sharp knives. 

↘ You were not only beautiful and modest, but also strong and graceful.

— KILLUA

↘ Killua and his friends were walking around the huge city. It was literally one of the few moments of rest during their journey, so a walk with a cup of ice cream or a sandwich filled with goodies was a really valuable experience for them all.

↘ Many people and animals were walking around them four; out of the corner of his eye, Killua saw a young boy and his sister playing chase, a happy couple of teenagers in love holding hands, someone on their right just playing a guitar... and right in front of them people with big smiles on their faces were throwing small coins into the fountain. It was a quiet, lovely day.

↘ I mean... as it turned out after a while, not so pleasant. At some point, Killua and his friends heard a woman’s scream. 

↘ Someone had stolen a purse with documents from a young lady with a white pram. Killua and Gon were about to run after the thief, but someone overtook them both.

↘ You came out calmly from around the corner. Seeing a crying woman in the distance and a fleeing man in a black hood on his head, you immediately reacted, grabbing him by the neck and knocking him to the ground.

↘ You were not only beautiful and comely in the eyes of a young boy, but also incredibly strong and brave. Killua immediately held his breath as he looked at you more closely. Startling the three friends, he ran towards you. He wasn’t entirely sure why he did it, but as soon as he was right next to your person, he just smiled and said “Hello”.

— KURAPIKA

↘ Your father was a rich and respected man, and the originator of one of the most useful items in the hunting world – the compass, which shows not only the way, but also the time, temperature and humidity of the air, as well as the exact day of the year and time of day. It was a multifunctional tool that allowed you to track animals and enemies, and at the same time it was a really handy and light item. That day, your father was presenting his product to a wider audience – other rich people, inventors, merchants and businessmen.

↘ Kurapika was your dad’s personal bodyguard that night and followed him closely, watching the guests arrive. As much as he tried to concentrate on his work, somewhere in the back of his heart he felt a strange pang.

↘ In the crowd he noticed you – a smiling woman who greeted everyone she met. During this short party, your eyes met halfway several times, but neither of you had the courage and time to say “Hi” or “Nice to meed you”;  Kurapika was standing next to your father, you were talking to guests and friends, sipping champagne and eating snacks.

↘ Only after the meeting and salary payment the young bodyguard was allowed to approach you and introduce himself. When your hands joined in a short grip, Kurapika instantly felt your strength. Although you looked really delicate and feminine, he was well aware of your position, and the handshake only confirmed his thoughts.

— LEORIO

↘ Leorio loved going to the gym or swimming pool in his free time. It was the best way for him to calm his mind and relax his whole body. He could also meet friends who often came to the above-mentioned place.

↘ The tall man started his training today with a warm-up and a short walk on the treadmill. He calmly watched the program played on the TV hanging on the wall, sipping electrolytes from the bottle from time to time. Somewhere between a short break and another series of exercises, he noticed a pretty, young woman in a sports outfit who entered the huge room.

↘ In your right hand you held a phone with headphones, and in your left a bottle of cool water. You looked really good, so Leorio glanced at you every couple of moments, working up the courage to talk to you and get to know you. After all, he’d never seen you here before, so this was the perfect opportunity to make a new... friend.

↘ You started your workout by warming up all your muscles and running in place. You did a few squats and push-ups, and finally you adjusted the shoes on your feet, approaching one of the two barbells located in the gym. You warmed up your fingers once more, then added a few extra pounds. After a short breath, in the deadlift, you lifted exactly one hundred and forty kilograms.

↘ Seeing your impassive face and smile, Leorio only managed to swallow. You were amazing!

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Warnings: language, flirty!Negan is always a warning haha

"Don't move."

Negan froze at the click of your gun's hammer and closed his eyes, smiling at the sound of your voice despite the situation. "Ahh, shit... You of all people came to hunt me down? I'm not sure if I should be excited or terrified," he said, turning around with a cheeky smile on his face. Your expression, however, was stern and the muzzle of your gun was trained on the center of his chest.

He watched as the muscle in your jaw tensed as your teeth clenched together. "How'd you get out?" you demanded.

Negan only continued to smile at you for a long moment. "Let me just start by saying that the sight of you all hot and sweaty is—" He whistled. "It is damn delicious. And packing heat too!"

You ignored his flirtations. "Negan, I asked how did you get out?"

His tongue flicked out over his bottom lip and he cocked his head. "Oh, I can do almost anything, darlin', if I put my mind to it... I'd be happy to show you sometime..."

You lowered your gun, still glaring at him. "Anything except shut up. Clearly."

He chuckled to himself. "How'd you find me so fast? I didn't expect anyone to even notice until my morning meal."

You adjusted your hand on the grip of your gun. "I had a feeling. That's all."

Negan's brow furrowed and a cocky smile came back to his lips. "Were you—did you go to visit little ol' me? And I wasn't there? Well, shit, honey. Talk about bad timing."

You rolled your eyes and tried to suppress the flush in your cheeks. "I was checking up on a prisoner. That's it."

"Oh, you just keep tellin' yourself that, but your little blush is tellin' me otherwise."

Fuck. Betrayed by your own face. "Let's go. We're going back," you snapped, annoyed at his persistent flirting.

Negan hesitated. "And what if I disagree?"

You raised your gun again. "Then I shoot out your knee and drag you back. So, you want to walk or do this the hard way?"

"Alright, alright," he conceded, grinning at you. "You win... You fuckin' badass. Jesus. Take it easy..."

Prompt: "Oh, I can do almost anything." / "Except shut up."

[bunkerjking]

The emotional breakdown later in the chapter will get most of the attention, but for my money, this is the most revealing moment in this week's chapter. A teenager so disconnected from his real emotions that he desperately rationalizes his hypersexuality not as a coping mechanism, but as 'this is what guys are like.'

It's easy to make fun of men for burying their emotions and then asking, 'why doesn't anyone know who I really am' - hell, Denji literally does that during the Bomb Girl arc - but Denji is a pretty direct criticism of both the way boys can get forced into unhealthy gender roles, and the way men self-regulate themselves and others into them.

The other boys Denji is with don't have the problem of being horny at inappropriate times. They have WAY bigger problems.

But Denji can't think properly when someone dangles the idea of sex in front of him. It's like a switch flips and he becomes a completely different person.

He shuts down and reverts to trying to embody masculine stereotypes he's been ingrained with, both through the social conditioning of growing up male in the 90s and the psychological conditioning Makima put him through to strengthen 'Chainsaw Man' - itself a hyper-masculine ideal that a human being physically cannot measure up to - and emotionally cripple Denji.

Denji is at his happiest when he's at rest with the people he loves. Power and Aki were not always easy to be around, but they loved him back and they wanted him to be happy. Nayuta is a child who doesn't understand her place in the world - how could she - but she earnestly wants to help her big brother as best as she can.

He isn't some cock-swinging alpha badass constantly on the prowl to crush puss, but for a lot of people - especially a teenager who was groomed to be an expendable child soldier - this unhealthy masculine 'ideal' isn't just something to live up to, it's the expected norm for men to be.

Being Chainsaw Man doesn't make Denji mentally stronger. As shown in the Falling Devil fight, he literally chops up his brain with his chainsaws to avoid confronting his trauma. Whenever he has to think about what he's lost and what's still left to lose, he runs toward something he isn't and away from a 'normal,' healthy response to the issues at hand.

"You stupid boy."

You'll notice that Katana Man, a perfect embodiment of an overly masculine dickhead, a misogynistic moron who refuses to grow in character or even basic combat skills, is totally on board for throwing Denji in a brothel and letting what happens happens. Katana Man perfectly represents the bad ending where 'traditional masculinity' wins the war for Denji's soul.

Denji needs help. Not some quick gratification. Not a meal and a nut and a nap. He needs genuine help, and a better male role model than the ones he's got. Even Kishibe, the only adult in his life other than Aki who actually did more good than harm, is an alcoholic recluse.

God help the boy.

[unabashednightmarepizza]

𝐹𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝐷𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑆ℎ𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑛𝑠

A/N: I couldn't stop my simping ass from writing for him, sorry not sorry!

Warnings: Spoilers for the "First Date" quest, some unintentional drama(?)

Prompts used: lips barely touching, smiling while kissing, slow kisses, first kisses from this/ "Is it okay if I kiss you?" " I would like that very much." from this.

People are very noisy.

That's even more obvious to you after the accident with Snape. You didn't blame him for what happened, especially after he said "no notes" and you were caught writing something down. It was a misunderstanding, one that put you on a rough spot.

Because all your friends were trying to learn who your crush was, everything felt like you were drowning in them and you had no other way out.

Apart from your saviour in white shirt and Gryffindor tie, the only one person you could confide in, someone who wouldn't care about all the rumors.

"Hi, Bill..." you sat in front of him as the red-head lifted his head and smiled kindly to you just like always.

"Hey, Y/N. How are you holding up?"

"Good I guess." You shrugged your shoulders. "By the way, I am sure Charlie knows you were out in the Courtyard, checking up on him earlier. He was irritated I guess?"

" Good. I want him to know his big brother is watching. Truth is, my mum likes me to keep an eye out for him. She is worried about him almost all the time."

You smiled at the woman's worry, though you knew better than to be fooled by her sweet nature, especially after that one Howler she sent to Charlie.

"His hobby is monstrous, fire-breathing creatures. I think any mum would be worried. How is she doing by the way?"

Bill smiled at your question, answering with a happy she is fine, she wants you to come to the Burrow this summer actually, as you and him ate your meal in silence.

You were gratefull for the Weasleys and how welcoming they had been to you, ever since the start of the second year. Spending time with them for the last 3 summers felt like a paradise to you, even if it was mostly chaos with their younger siblings. But they were a bunch of cute and good-natured kids, didn't mean extreme harm to anyone as long as they didn't annoy them and they adored listening to your rants about your adventures with their two eldest brother.

All the while trying to surpass their smirk at their second older brother having heart eyes as you talked to them, blushing behind you with a dazed look.

Apart from you, Charlie's raging crush on you was pretty obvious to everyone. Both in school and to his family. Never, even for once, did he shut up about you at home. Always talking, always telling how amazing and badass you were, how caring you were with the magical creatures as Hagrid watched you, how you always spent time with him and was comsiderate of your friends, how cute you looked while sleeping...

"Okay, okay, we get it. Your curse-breaking girlfriend is pretty awesome." Percy would often roll his eyes at his brother, already sick of the amount of talk about you even if he... tolerated you?

Molly and Arthur would also chime in from time to time, just to push Charlie a bit to know more about his dating life. It was from her good heart of course, Molly just wanted all of her children to be happy... Possibly with a lover that would hopefully turn into their spouse.

And besides, seeing his usually dragon-maniac son who wasn't interested in dating suddenly blushing at the mention of this girl made her curious.

Who were you and how did you manage to make her smitten ike that?

So, as the sweet yet slightly controlling mother she was, she convinced Bill to take you here with himself for one summer, to see and get to know you. Bill was happy to oblige, besides he knew his mother already knew a lot about you by the endless talk both him and Charlie did, the last thing left for her was to see you.

And when she did, she decided: You were now a part of the family.

Because one, you looked like such a cute and generous girl with a golden heart and two, her son was really, trully happy whenever he was with you.

But, as much as she witnessed the obvious love her boy had for you, she was left shocked, one would say even pitying her own son for his denseness, when she talked to him and Bill... and learnt that you two weren't dating as the boys looked at her sheepishly.

"Charles Septimus Weasley! What's this supposed to mean?! What do you mean by you aren't dating her?! Are you so dense to let a girl like her go?!"

But here was the part, which was the reason why he still didn't make any moves on you: Charlie sucked at romance.

Dragons? Show him one scale and he could tell what they eat. Lessons? Pfft, pretty easy, he aced them all! Quidditch? He was the best at new strategies! But romance?

With you?

That was straight out of his nightmares. Because what if you didn't feel the same? What if he lost you for good because of some silly, yet very warm, feelings? Was it worth taking the risk? He didn't know any pick-up lines, and didn't intend to ask his friends...

So, just like that, he refused to do anything and instead savoured the time he had with you even if his heart made backflips whenever you smiled at him.

And Bill was left to deal with his dumb brother and oblivious friend as they both had feelings for each other, unknown to both sides.

" At this point, everyone knows I have crush and suddenly... they are all so interested in who he is!" He was shaken from his thoughts as you exclaimed angrily, munching on your lunch like an angry rabbit, remembering the pleading looks your friends gave to you.

"Well, you have all the reason to keep it to yourself." He said pointedly. Just the same logical boy he always was...

"Well... Except, I'm thinking of not keeping it to myself." You shyly told him as he raised a brow at you, shocked and also sad for his brother and how heartbroken he would be. It was inevitable though, as he and their mother often told him.

"Oh really? Well, good for you. Good luck with getting a decent enough person to give you advices!" You looked at him curiously as he almost seemed... nervous to continue this talk.

Is he... pretending to not understand me? Or mocking me?

You stared at Bill who was eating his sandwiches with a happy grin, trying hard to not look at you and confront you to save himself from the stress, sternly until he lifted his eyes to look at you and his mouth fell open in shock.

"Wait... You want my advice?!"

"Yeah, who else's?" You sarcastically said, pointing between you and him and showing the other empty seats. But Bill's attention wasn't on any of them, since y'know, he was freaking out, choking on his food.

Nope... Nope, nope, that was bad! He couldn't betray his little brother like that!

"Don't you remember the Emily Tyler thing? Trust me, Y/N... I'm the worst person you could have come to!"

"Bill."

"Oh... Oh, you are very serious, and you aren't going to give up, are you?"

The only answer he got was a playful rise of your brow and a smirk.

After a very long lunch with Bill, and trying to convince him that it was a good idea to ask his opinion, you felt tired.

Why would you trust my advice?

You've never led me wrong, Bill.

Do you ask because I'm older?

Trick question. You are older... and wiser!

The list of questions continued. You couldn't help but get suspicious of him and his strange behaviour. Now, it was official that Bill was the mother hen of your large friend group, being the only one who had 2 brain cells, and he tended to get worried about almost everything... Possibly a treat of having 6 younger siblings.

But he, never even for once, hesitated to help you with something. It was almost like he was looking for an opportunity to run away from this conversation, or you in general whenever he saw you out with your friends.

You were starting to get worried you were being a nuisance to him.

But... who else were you supposed to go, when your crush was the little brother he was always looking out for? None other than, Charlie Weasley himself.

It was patheatic really, how you silently suffered because of this crush. It didn't help that he always hung out with you, or that you got to spend the summer with him and his family.

You saw him, the true him every day even more and this crush was getting our of control.

Now, you knew he was an outdoor-loving, adventurous spirit and probably, the best way to ask him... out, was in the forest. A picnic date? Maybe?

Oh Merlin, I can't believe I'm about to do this... Rejection is at the horizon, and I can always write to mum and ask her to transfer me to Beauxbatons.

Besides, Aurélie likes me. I'm sure she could-

Your train of thought were cut when Bill suddenly laughed awkwardly, looking at once again, anywhere but you..."I can't believe we are about to have this conversation... It's been a while since I gave any advices."

But ultimately failed at seeing your... saddened face.

Which made the mother alarms in his mind go off.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong? Did I do something? Did someone do something? They better pray for a higher power, because I will-" he stumbled over his words as he took a hold of your hand to comfort you, but frowned when you took it away from him.

"It's not that... Bill, you would be honest with me, right?"

"Of course, what kind of a question is that?" He frowned at you as he sat down on the bench outside Hogsmeade, a hand on your knee as he rubbed it comfortingly.

"Because... I'm starting to think that I am being a nuisance to you, by how you always try to run away from me."

Oh Merlin, this isn't going to places good...

Panic suddenly rose in Bill's chest, seeing how you trully believed in that by his actions. He failed to realize how his actions affected you, when he tried hard to not betray his brother like that.

But you didn't do anything to deserve this, and he was instead betraying you.

"Well... I'm sorry if I gave that idea but, it's not that. It's just... Everyone looks at me as if I know something they don't. I mean, I don't even have experience in that part! And now, my best friend is asking me for help, and I don't know what to do."

You looked at him softly, suddenly realizing that this was also hard for him and you were just making things up. "Bill, I really appreciate your concerns but I came to you for a reason: I trust you. I talked with Penny, Tulip, Barnaby, even Talbott! But in the end, you were the one who always helped me first..."

A cheeky grin took over your face soon, which already told enough to Bill that you were planning to tease him after a heartfelt conversation.

"Besides two years more experience is a lot when it comes to dating, isn't it old hag?" You elbowed his side and ruffled his hair playfully, which he secretly took great care of, and took of for a running while Bill scoffed at you and prepared to run after you.

"Oh, you little rascal... Come here!"

After letting out a squeal and running away from Bill while laughing freely, he finally caught up to you and offered to drink Butterbeer to cool down and finally help ypu put with your problem, your head between his arms in a headlock as you struggled to get away from him.

Even if he would be betraying his brother, he couldn't let you all alone by yourself.

"So... What's the best way of asking out my crush?" You asked to him, eyes hopefull, as Bill looked at you through the glass he was drinking and smirked at you teasingly.

"Well... Definetly, I wouldn't recommend a note. It could easily fall into wrong hands."

"Haha, Bill. So funny, I'm glad my misery is so funny to you." You giggled embrassed as he shook with laughter, his long hair falling onto his face.

"Well, all jokes aside, face to face would be the best think to do. It may be the most nerve-wracking but involving anyone or anything else complicate things."

You nodded thoughtfully as you drank your butterbeer, weighing your options and which place would be the best thing to do such thing... When Bill's silence made you look at him confused.

"Is that all? Surely the Bill Weasley has other advices to give to his cute and in dire-need-of-help underclassman who is also his best friend, right?" You cheekily exclaimed, batting your lashes at him while hoping that it would help, making him shook his head in disbelief at you.

" Yeah, my cute underclassman, I told you I'd come prepared. I promised I would help, remember? Even if I may feel silly giving them..." he cracked his back as he took his notebook and pencil out, writing his list down under your watching and curious eyes.

Sorry, Charlie... Forgive me.

"First, compliment them. Everyone likes compliments, and don't dive directly to the topic. That would scare them. Also, don't overthink, something hard in your condition." He pointedly said as you rolled your eyes at him, elbowing him to continue.

"Spending time with someone you like should be fun and relaxing. And remember: Your date might be just as nervous as you are. There is a high chance that it is both your first times dating, so relax knowing that it's also a first for him."

After minutes of talking and him advising you, you were feeling... enlightened? Your plans of taking Charlie to the forest would work, it seemed!

And he called himself bad at giving advices, what the hell? He had been even more useful than the others!

"So, any questions?" Bill clapped his hands expectingly as he stared at you, waiting for an answer. But the answer he got was one that made him blush.

Almost. You were still the girl his brother, who had been obsessed with dragons as long as he can remember, liked. He wasn't going to act like a schoolboy talking to a girl for the first time.

"And you call yourself bad at giving advices! Bill, you just saved my life and my potential date!"

"Now, I wouldn't get too excited. I didn't save anything, yet." He said, suddenly turning serious as he looked at you. "Until you ask your crush out, your date goes amazing and you leave as a girl who has a boyfriend, I don't consider anything over."

"There is... a high chance that he could reject me, you know that right?" You meekly said, your fingers clutching your clothes thightly. His confidence for your ability, or lack of, to ask someone out surprised you. Actually, everyone thought you to be very confident for some reasons.

Was it because you were dealing with the Vaults? Or Merula? Or maybe you just gave off that vibe even if you were an anxious ball of stress almost half of the time?

"And if that happens... Just think of it as an adventure. You've been on many of them."

"It's something I know of, dating though? I don't have any experience."

That girl and her pessimistic brain...

Bill sighed out irritated at your sudden lack of confidence and got a hold of your cheeks to make you look straight into his eyes as he used the ultimate weapon: The Mum Voice.

" Y/N Y/L/N, everything will be fine! I'm trying to lighten the mood here... Just because this is something new for you, something you have never done before and don't have control over, it doesn't mean it will end bad. To me, everything will turn out fine for you."

"I really hope so... This means a lot to me, y'know?" you blushed softly and Bill was stricken with a realization: You grew up from the little first year you were to a fine young woman, with steady steps.

"If you aren't gonna tell me who he is... At least tell me what he likes, maybe that could help finding a good spot for your first date?"

And also save me from finding that guy and breaking the news to Charlie?

"Hmm... That's an interesting idea, actually...." you hummed thoughtfully to yourself, confirmation from Charlie's own brother would be almost the same as his. But you were not aware of the wide eyes Bill was giving to someone behind you as you dived into your fantasies. "Uh huh, shit..."

"Hmm? What is it, who are you talking- C-Charlie? Tonks?"

There stood Charlie, shook to his core as he clutched his bag thightly in his arms, heart beating loudly at the sight before his eyes. Out of anything he expected to happen, seeing his brother with his crush wasn't on the list when he merrily woke up today with the greatest stretch of his life in the morning.

What were you two doing? Why were you alone? And what was that interesting idea anyways? Not that he was jealous, no no not at all...

Meanwhile Tonks looked between you and Charlie awkwardly as Bill signed her to help him out, to which she awkwardly cleaned her throat.

"Wotcher, Y/N! We weren't expecting to see you here, right mate?" She emphasised pointedly, elbowing Charlie so that he could stop sending daggers to his own brother before he knew what was going on.

"Yes, of course." He replied with icy cold voice, though it wasn't directed at you and he was looking rather softly and sadly at you, you wondered if something happened between the two.

Something Bill didn't mention, because they were both fine this morning, and he had been with you ever since the lunch time so he didn't spend any time with Charlie enought to set him off.

Before you could ask, he walked up to your table and stood between you and him, with a pointed look to his brother.

"I heard that my brother has an interesting idea. Please, do tell. It's very rare, after all..."

Ufff, something definetly happened. Because the Charlie Weasley you knew wasn't like that.

With a frown, you answered him, not knowing that you kind of made everything even worse. " He was helping me ask my crush out, and asked what he liked doing... But what's wrong with you? You are never... this sarcastic?"

Well, it was definetly a way to put it in Charlie's eyes. He knew he was being irrational, after all, you and him weren't a thing. You weren't dating or anything, so he didn't have a reason to stand against you hanging out with his brother.

Besides, he had been your friend almost since first year started, and maybe... If he had just gotten over his anxiety back then and talked to you, he would be the one standing next to you, supporting you through everything you went through, protecting you.

Which he was already doing, just... a little bit later than he wanted.

With a broken heart, he looked at you and sighed sadly, not saying anything as Bill landed a reassuring hand on your arm. "Don't worry, Y/N... I think my brother just picked today to show his development in humour. What luck, trully..."

Witnessing the silent battle the two brothers were having, Tonks tried to think of a way to stop this. But just as everyone here knew, she was bad at this.

"I heard uh, the accident with note, Y/N... I hope you are feeling better now."

"Note? What note?" asked Charlie curiously as he watched your expression change and you blushed.

If his heart wasn't squeezing painfully in his chest at knowing that you had a crush, he could awe at you and memorize this momet to think about it later before he slept.

"You don't know? I'm surprised actually, everyone seems to be very into knowing who I like... Thanks for your worry though, Tonks. I feel better."

"Yeah, I mean... Snape already scares people enough. Adding the fact that he, accidently or not, stumbled upon a personal thing..."

"Oh... So, that note never reached to your crush?" Charlie hoped that his hopeful voice wasn't also carried by his question, trying to seem cool to you as if your heart didn't already belong to someone else.

You, meanwhile, gulped down hard at seeing him very... interested in it. But it wasn't like your other friends', they wanted to know purely out of curiosity and wished you to be happy...

When Charlie wanted to know everything because... He was jealous? No way, your crush liking you back wasn't an option, right? Besides, why would he feel jealous? He wasn't interested in dating and you were already walking on eggshells.

But this exchange... And the talk she had with Charlie a few hours ago how he wished it was him you were into, that it was him who would take you to a date...

Tonks had a plan.

"No, not really... Why did you want to kno-"

"You know what, Y/N? We will help you plan your date!"

"What?!" You and Charlie both yelled at the same time, eyes wide in shock at what she said from two different reasons.

Charlie couldn't believe his own ears at what his best friend was telling. Helping you with your date? Was she out of her mind? Did she and him not talk about his feelings for you?

"What? I'm not into dating anyone and Charlie... well, he is your best friend! He would like to help, right?" Charlie agreed with what seemed to be sarcastic nod of his head as he started to pick at the skin near his finger out of anger, looking between his friend and brother as you laughed awkwardly and pulled Tonks to yourself.

"Tonks..." you whispered down to her silently with thight lips, looking up at her. "Why the hell are you so invested in planning my date so suddenly anyways?"

"I told you, it's because-"

"I heard it clearly but... Are you sure it's not to learn who my crush is-"

"We don't care about your crush, Y/N."

You looked at Charlie with shocked eyes as they were filled with tears slightly at the sharp tone he used and how... cold he sounded. At that moment, he wasn't the same warm-hearted boy you met, he wasn't the friendly boy who you talked about dragons all the time even though you didn't understand everything about them but did it anyways just to make him happy, and he definetly wasn't the same boy you fell asleep on as you basked in his soft touches...

But you wondered... what it was you did that made him so angry.

"Charlie, what the hell?!" Bill angrily let out as he got up to confront his brother who was also shocked and shaking at what left his mouth. That definetly wasn't the way he was raised, definetly not him at all.

I didn't mean it like that... Even if it was "I" instead of "we".

"No... Wait, Y/N! I didn't mean it like that! We care about you. Please, let me just-"

But he was already late as he watched you got out of the Three Broomstick hurriedly, Tonks following you right after as he was left with a fuming Bill.

"What the hell, Charles?! Don't you know the school talking about her and her brother, also adding the fact that her crush was revealed, that she had been stressfull? Why were you even acting like that?!" He dragged him outside to scold him, pushing him by his shoulders. His shoulders sag in sadness as he let his brother push him lightly, knowing that he deserved it after his unreasonable outburst at you.

"I... I know it's no excuse but I... I was jealous and couldn't bare it anymore. It hurts, Bill."

Bill looked at his brother's teary eyes and guilty face with a soft look, his anger having long been gone at the pitiful sight of him. He understood why he felt like that, having to hear the girl you like liking someone else and all, but still...

It wasn't enough of a reason to treat tou like this.

"I understand why, little brother but it was too much... You will go to her now and be completely honest to her, Charlie. You know she deserves it."

"I know..." he mumbled silently, his chest constracting painfully in his ribcage as his stomach was knitting itself anxiously.

"And she would never ditch you out for having feelings for her either. She didn't do it with anyone, and she will not do it with you. Now go!" He pushed Charlie towards the open area to where you ran, hoping that everything would turn out fine for both of you...

And that what Tonks said was true.

"She likes Charlie, had been for a year or so. But she is shit at showing it. All they need is a little push."

"But... I don't know where she is!" Charlie hastily yelled out as he looked at Bill over his shoulder to see him sighing irritatedly. Stupid teenagers...

"She is your bestfriend, you crush! You know her better than anyone!"

And yes, he did know where you were thanks to what Bill said, and ran to where he thought you were.

An apology and explaination already ready in his mind as he begged to Merlin that he wasn't too late to fix his mess.

If you were to ask Charlie when he started falling for you, he wouldn't be able to give you an exact time. For the most part of his friendship with you, he didn't even realize that his feelings went beyond admiration. His friends and brothers always teased him for it whenever he called you "his bestfriend that he never imagined to have", and as a result, would get a snarky comment from Bill like "What a good way to add in your confession, brother! So romantic~"

But perhaps what sealed the deal for him and opened his eyes was that one time when you were cold in the common room, reading together and he gave you his sweater with his initial on it. (He pretended not to realize how cute you looked in it and how his heart beated faster at the sight of you, suddenly feeling possessive because damn it, you were so cute and beautiful as you read your book.)

And then, as if the sight didn't already turn him into a puddle, you mumbled a sweet it smells like you and buried yourself deeper in the sweater whilst continuing to read your book, completely unaware to how red he was because woah, seeing you so cozy in his clothes and as a big part of his life really opened a new window!

In your defence, you thought it was because he was hot from sitting in front of the fireplace witg that sweater on. And besides, he always ran warm for some reasons.

And then, just like that, his "bestie" attitude would turn into hearts and stars, accompanied by the "love of my life, my shining star and the meaning of my life" type of attitude. He had started to see all the outings you two did together, or all the times you went to the Three Broomsticks together, as dates and imagined himself just sitting next to you, an arm around your shoulders as he looked at you with loving eyes.

Apart from the fact that he absolutely sucked when it came to romance and being flirty, rather loosing track of his thoughts and stutter in your presence( which made you often giggle and call him adorable before pecking his cheek and setting them aflame) even though Andre often called him "an utter catch" while listing all the reasons why.

You are friendly, quick-witted, hard working, kind, play Quidditch and "annoyingly handsome" as a good friend of him-you- said.

So, he said nothing about his new-found feelings in fear that his friends and brother would make it worse by teasing him, he didn't have to know the miserable heart eyes he was giving you whenever you were close already gave it away, and try to desperately just be your friend. He couldn't risk ruining the best thing happened to him with his feelings, so he tried to avoid you in hopes that his feelings could disappear.

Spoiler alert, it didn't...

But his behaviour only ended up with you liking someone else and then him feeling stupid because he didn't act on his feelings before and get angry at himself and everything.

Human nature, after all, tended to blame orher things rather than themselves.

But now, he had to suck it up and go up to you, possibly explain everything and even comfess so that he would be free of the restrictions they brought to him and maybe, by a tiny chance, you would return his feelings back.

"Hey..."

Hearing his timid voice behind you, you wiped your cheeks hastily and turned to him. You knew your eyes gave you away, with its redness and all, and you saw how Charlie winced at the sight, almost seeming like he was just as in pain as you were.

But why would he, you thought. He was the one who made me feel like shit, why would feel bad?

"I've come to... apologize, for my behaviour. I didn't mean to be such a prick. I'm sorry for shouting and hurting you... and made you cry." He mumbled in a sorry manner, playing with his fingers anxiously as he waited behind you to say something. Every second you were just sitting there silently, your back to him as the wind brushed through your hair and clothes, he got even more anxious.

Maybe he lost his chance? Did you really get hurt by his words that much? Of course, you did, you didn't deserve to hear any of them and-

"It's okay, I forgive you... Even though you were total jackass." He chuckled and nodded at you, not that you saw it as you pat the spot next to you and waited until he was fully seated next to you. The calm and silence was a good one, after all the hectic week you had, but even then...

You were restless, as your crush who just made you cry was sitting next to you.

And you wanted to know why he did what he did.

"Why did you say that? Back at the Three Broomsticks? Why did you act like that?" You asked softly, no hint of judgement in your voice, only confusion as you looked at Charlie with knitted brows, frowning when he stiffened at your question.

"You wouldn't understand..." he mumbled, shaking his head as if he was you and actually knew how you would react. That was one of the things that could anger you, just like it did in that moment, as your irritated eyes found his soft and pained ones, watching you with a thundering heart as his breath got faster at your angry shout.

"Then make me, Charlie! I'm your best friend! What did I do to deserve-"

It was your right to know it, you definetly didn't deserve to be left in the shadows but he was... scared. Scared of loosing you, scared of ruining everything. Scared of you hating him...

But he had to be brave, and accept whatever happens after what he was about to say.

"You made me fall for you, that's what you did!"

Out of all the answers you expected from the redhead, this definetly wasn't on the list.

Charlie? Weasley? The one who loves only dragons? He loved you?

You could actually dance around and scream in delight from how happy you were as a wide smile took over your face completely. You wanted to shout, jump on Charlie and kiss him breathless, later peppering his whole face on them as you stared at his freckles, then go and gush to Rowan, or Penny, scream in happiness with them too!

But before you could open your mouth after the shock of hearing your crush liking you back, Charlie continued to talk. He thought if he just kept talking and poured his heart out, you wouldn't slap him across the face and leave him there, heartbroken.

Maybe he could postpone the inevitable just a bit.

The inevitable in his eyes.

"What he have... our friendship is so perfect, I have everything I want in my life. My family, friends, you," his voice shook as he shuffled closer to you, and you wondered if your heart was loud enough for him to hear.

You looked at him sweetly, his worry of loosing you, how much he cared-no, loved- you made you melt at him. Tears of happiness strung up your eyes as you gingerly took his calloused hand and squeezed it.

"And how do you think I feel?" You whispered, making Charlie look at you confused and tilt his head.

"What do you mean by that?"

Welp, here goes nothing...

You sighed deeply, turning your whole body towards him and took both of his hands in yours. He looked at you shocked for a second, heart jumping up to his throat as his eyes first landed down on your hands holding his and then back to your own eyes.

"Charlie, the reason I was so secretive about my crush was because... Because it was you."

Now, it was Charlie's turn to be shocked. Because out of every kind of angry ways he expected this talk to go, you confessing to him wasn't one of them.

That crush being him, wasn't even close!

Taking his silence as a sign to continue, you sucked in a breath.

The word was already out anyways.

"I only tried to get more hints on what you like and dislike, so that I could ask you out properly. I mean, I know I'm your bestfriend but... I also know that you aren't into dating and have your focus on dragons-"

"I love you more than dragons." You smiled at how fast and eagerly he said that, clear genuine love pouring out of him, and nodded your head.

"I know that now..."

"I thought... You know, Barnaby was your crush and I felt so jealous. He had liked you for almost as long as I did and... I thought tou would see him more of a better match for you."

"But why would you think that?"

"I know you are kind of scared of dragons, and can't keep every information about them in your mind." You blushed at being caught. You thought tou made sure you didn't give away!

Charlie smiled at your blushing face and chuckled, raising his hand to touch your cheek but hesitating. You felt his hand get close to your face, shaking slightly. You giggled at his obvious nerves and nuzzled closer to his palm, pulling it towards your face as you gazed at him with eyes full of love.

And Charlie forgot what he had to say at the sight of your lovely self.

"A-And Barnaby and you... like the other creatures more, y-you even bonded with his Knarl and went on many, uh... alone hanging outs."

"Charlie... What I feel for Barnaby is completely platonic, he is only my friend. What I feel for you is much stronger." You smiled at him softly, lovingly with your eyes accidently drawn to his lips.

"I've been denying my feelings for you at first, I wasn't going to let my feelings get in our way, I was afraid I would loose my bestfriend but you were and are still my bestfriend. I just didn't think you would... actually feel the same."

He shuffled closer, your thighs touching each other as your faces came closer and closer."I have been dreaming about this... Longing for you to feel the same, wanting to be with you..." He whispered, close enough that you felt his hot breath as his lips hovered over yours, barely touching yours.

"We are both idiots in love, then?" You whispered to his lips and he laughed, the sound of it making your heart skip a bit and smile lovingly at him.

"I wouldn't have it the other way..."

Suddenly aware of thw situation you were in, you could have backed out and instead take it slow. But Charlie was intoxicating, he called you to him like a flame did to a moth and your lips met for the first time. The kiss was soft and slow at the beginning, a little bit clumsy as expected but it was just... perfect.

You ran your hand through his hair, pulling his hair tie back as his long hair fell down his shoulders. You had been craving to kiss him, and pull on his locks in a make-out and you exactly did that.

Your teeth might have clashed, from how wide you both were smiling as Charlie's hand travelled across the expanse of your back and settled on your waist, but you both knew that this was definetly not gonna be the first time your lips would meet.

Now that both sides had a taste of the other, both of you became each other's drug.

"But you still owe me a date. You made me cry, y'know?" You teased him while panting after breaking apart, still in each others vicinity as he looked down at your lips in a daze and nodded.

"I'll spent my life making up for it, love. And I already planned our next 50 dates."

"Is it okay if I kiss you again?" You couldn't help but ask, wanting to only drown in him and his kisses. Dates could wait, you and him had a life time for more dates anyways. He chuckled and leant down with a smirk as his lips caught yours.

"I would like that very much."

And indeed, he really made up for it.

[selitoxicmoon]

[FNAF AU] The Glamrocks

"Let's bring a bright welcome to our redesigned, pushed to their potential and superstars to the Glamrocks!"

People have the desired for me to redesign the Glamrocks for my AU "Security Breach: Revision" so here they are!

I am so happy how is getting together this AU which the next step is bring 'em the introduction and start this AU! But don't worry! THIS IS NOT EVEN THE HALF OF ALL THE GANG AROUND THE MEGA PIZZA PLEX.

The Glamrock take their places in the show stage and their own places and rooms. The Glamrocks proceeds to be in Rockstar Row as their room locations, meanwhile the Glampops are in the Popstar Path in the opposite side of the Rockstar Row. Entering to the show stage located, Rockstar Row is placed on the left side, while Popstar Path is on the right side.

The Glamrocks and the Glampops doesn't... like each other that much, there's a misunderstanding between them, an argument of which is the best music genre: Pop or Rock? Meanwhile Glamrock Freddy hasn't got any problem about it as his Glampop version, the others seems to not understand that it can be a good mix between Pop and Rock.

The Recycled has no problems with non of those gangs, even tho, they're fascinated by their concerts in the show stage wishing someday to be able to perform regardless their looks.

Reminder of this AU:

"Security Breach: Revision" amplifies the size and space of the Mega Pizza Plex and brings a second chance and update to FNAF 2, 3, 4 and Sister Location animatronics. More new locations, reincoporated and modified animatronics for a better experience and new places to explore!

This AU would be shown as comic and doodles to make you know about the characters interaction with each animatronic and discover lore behind them. Details, facts, exploration and even more forward the actual story prologue before Security Breach, either way is a completely reimagined story of the actual game and universe which NON OF THIS IS CANON.

Animatronics are NOT Possessed by any children, or similar, no corpses inside the animatronics, nothing, they're clean and their personalities comes from advanced AI system programmed by the technicians and Fazbear Entertainment.

So with it, I can introduce you to them:

Glamrock Freddy: The leader, the rockstar, the best father figure you might ever seen (daddy issues?); Freddy is someone really caring and the main character of the megaplex, adored by many of course. He cares for the children, makes sure nobody's hurt, makes sure everyone is having a faz-errific day and a good stay, he gives joy and smiles and what he loves most is to be with the ones he cares most and help anyone in need. He's a good mentor by the way.

Glamrock Bonnie: The most respectful one, Bonnie is everyone's bestie and he's really extroverted. He has got no shame at all but he does everything right, a good icon to follow I tell ya, he takes the electric guitar side while Freddy sings. He's a cool guy and actually loves cooking along Chica, he takes the Bonnie Bowl place and his star meal is carrot cake!

Glamrock Chica: An extroverted fella full of energy but not too clean nor neat at all- Chica smells like strawberry pie because she BAKES! Rockstar and baker? Why not my guy, she loves pizza, sheloves food in general and her star meal is strawberry pie. Chica is passionated with her work as guitarrist, never stops rocking as a Barbie girl (bc of the colors)! She's kind and really warm friend to be with but she rarely goes by herself to someone. Seems she's making distances.

Roxanne Wolf: She's the best! A good rockstar, the best keytarrist, a badass mother to take care of your children in Roxy's Raceway. She has many fans and as her clothing looks like, she loves so much car races and anything vehicle related. She's a good racer but a bad loser, to any birthday kid losing a race, she goes straight away to stop those other racers trying to make the birthday boy to win. As the security guards requested to Roxy, she takes care of Cassie and she has full access and membership forever because her dad passed away by "strange circumstances" deep down the Pizza Plex (do not worry tho, Cassie has mother so she just comes visit the place often). Roxy might have a really high ego and pride but... she blames herself a lot when plans don't go as she would like to.

[whxre-bxby]

"Colourful Pills"

"Colourful Pills" (in case you can't read the colours, sorry I got creative)

Recom Mansk x Recom Y/N

Masterlist

There are two versions of Mansk:

1. The quiet, soft and whipped one. He acts like this when he has a genuine crush and has fallen hard.

2. Mansk is cocky and confident, keeping up his badass and intimidating image. He may find you attractive but he isn’t in love.

(this is a friends with benefits arrangement)

Summary: Mansk has been your best friend for many years. When you go into heat, he is a good friend and there to help you :)

WARNINGS: SMUT, foul language, oral f. receiving, penetration, mating (with tsaheylu), heat fucking

Word Count: 6936

Mansk and I worked in the same department as humans. During the battle, we were sent out into the field at different times so we didn’t know we lost each other. 

I woke up first with Walker, Ja and Lopez. They had to wake us up in smaller groups in case something went wrong. Once we were dressed we were dismissed to take our new bodies for a ‘test run’. Walker and I went to the cafeteria to help some soldiers move heavy furniture. We were often assigned tasks like these because the RDA decided to take advantage of our height and strength.

The others were woken up after us and the second group came through the door which consisted of Prager, Brown, Warren and Mansk. 

I was holding up a huge cupboard by pressing it against my back to keep it from falling while the human soldiers worked on removing something from the wall behind it. Walker was standing nearby while Ja was sitting and just watched. 

“Ay, welcome back group 2.” Ja joked and Lopez grinned, getting up to greet his previous friends. 

After that was out the way they turned to Walker and me who were now both holding up the furniture. 

“Who are they?” Brown asked. It was difficult to recognise a face in Na’vi form. Especially when we had our backs turned to them.

“Walker and Y/N.” Lopez said, smiling when he saw how we were struggling. 

Mansk’s ears perked up when he heard your name. You had died? But more importantly, you were alive now? You were a part of the recom team?

He looked between the two Na’vi females and recognised you by your movements and hair. Yep, it was you. 

I turn around, pushing the cupboard upright by pressing my back into it again. Mansk had seen my face now and was relieved and happy to see me. 

My eyes meet his and I freeze. 

“Mansk?” I call out, wondering whether it was him. 

“You know her?” Prager asked and Mansk looked at his feet, grinning to himself in slight pride before walking to me. He knew the girl they were all watching. 

My mouth drops open and I straighten my posture, taking a step forward. 

“Y/N don’t let it go!” Walker shouts almost crumbling beneath the weight herself. I flinch and quickly turn around, helping her push it back up all the way. 

“God damn, it almost crushed us.” She says, wiping her forehead. I laugh lightly and apologise before turning back to my friend I’ve known for years. 

“Hey.” he said, smiling at me and glancing at the cupboard. 

“I didn’t know you-” 

“Yeah, I thought it might be a good idea.” Mansk says and I smile. “I didn’t know you signed up for the programme either.” he says to me. 

“Well, why not? Don’t have much to lose, so.” I say with a chuckle and his smile widens. 

From then on things went smoothly. Mansk and I felt comfortable with each other because we knew each other for so long. We sat together during meal times whenever one of us wasn’t already crowded up by other recom’s and we would mess around during training sessions. 

One day, the Colonel called all the recom’s into one of the lab rooms for some type of lesson or meeting. I followed Lyle who knew where to go. We were already a few minutes late because one of the doors didn’t react to our keycard. Mansk was walking behind me as we rushed past people and through hallways. 

Since many soldiers and other workers had never seen real Na’vi before in their lives, seeing the recom’s was interesting to them. When you would all walk somewhere, most people stopped what they were doing to watch. That was the case now as well and everyone moved out of our way. 

Mansk’s newly sensitive ears would catch a few comments some people dropped and since he was walking behind you he would see how mainly male soldiers would watch you go by and then joke or say something inappropriate. 

When he walked by he glared at them, stepping into their space to make them flinch out of the way. Once, he even snarled at a soldier and was surprised at how naturally it came to him. It just made him angry to see people ogle you. Especially because you were his friend. 

Lyle opened the door and we three stepped in, seeing the other recom’s already gathered around a large beamed-up display screen. There were two humans in lab coats getting a presentation started. 

The Colonel flashed a glare at Lyle for us being late before we went and stood by them. I walked over to Z-Dog who was also closest to me and Mansk was pulled to Prager and Lopez by Prager and Lopez so that he was roughly standing behind me. 

The two people started talking and it seemed they were explaining our bodies to us again. We had been informed of the main parts before we signed up to become recom’s but it seems they had more to add. 

About 20 minutes in I was starting to lose interest until one of them opened a small carton box and pulled out pills which were definitely not for humans to swallow. 

“Also, uh-  you three, “ One of them says, motioning to Walker, Z-Dog and me. “...will need to take these.” he says, holding up the yellow and green pills which look completely abnormal. Then he claps his hands and closes the presentation. 

Z and I exchange confused looks. He didn’t say why. 

“Okay, that’s it for today-” 

“Why do we need them?” I ask, putting my weight on one leg while looking at him with crossed arms. He stops mid-sentence and looks at me, seeming almost nervous. 

“Well- it’s complicated…” he says, looking at his work partner for help who is now avoiding eye contact with us. 

“I wanna know what it is before I take it.” I add and Walker nods, not seeming particularly happy. 

I hear the Colonel sigh and see him pinch the bridge of his nose if our noses even have those anymore. Maybe it was just a force of habit. 

“Y/N if I tell you te’ swallow those pills, you’re gonna swallow ‘em. Understood?” he asked and I uncrossed my arms. 

“Yes, sir.” I reply, looking away but the human intervenes. 

“No, it’s okay.” he says. 

“Completely understandable.”  the other adds on. 

He takes a deep breath. “You see, the Na’vi have certain seasonal behaviour.” he says and I listen, wondering where the fuck this is going. 

“That includes mating season.” he says and my smirk drops from my face. Oh no. Now I regret asking. Z looks at me and chuckles, seeing how mortified I look. 

“Female Na’vi go into ‘heat’ and since that season is approaching you need to take these.” he says, motioning back to the pills. I’m speechless and it seems everyone else is too. Everyone but the Colonel, who seemed to already know that. 

“Otherwise you won’t be able to work properly.” he says, seeming relieved it was over and how well he handled it. Z nudges me playfully and I slap her hand away, acknowledging my mistake of asking. 

“What’es that mean?” a recom a bit further away asks and the scientist sighs, seeming to regret their career choices. 

“ ‘Means Y/N will be uncontrollably horny if she doesn’t listen.” Z happily answers, sparing the human the trauma. 

“More like painfully horny.” Walker adds and chuckles. 

A few chuckles erupt around us and I clutch my face in my hand. I can feel someone’s eyes burning into me from behind but I refuse to turn around because I’m too embarrassed. 

“Just take them.” The person says, handing me a packet before giving them to Z and Walker. 

“Yes.” I mumble, examining and inspecting the pills from a closer angle. 

“How do we stop it if we forget to take ‘em?” Walker asks as the human returns to the front. 

“You can’t. The only other solution is, uh- mating.” he replies, adjusting his glasses and Walker wheezes. Z laughs at her reaction.

“Like, male and female?” I ask and Quaritch groans in frustration because he feels like he’s taking care of hormonal teenagers. 

Yet only we three had the courage to ask. 

“Yes, male and female.” the scientist reassures. 

“Hm.” I hum and Z glances at me. 

“Ask it now or I will.” she says, nudging my elbow again but I refuse, not wanting this to come up in conversation. Z-Dog however is ruthless and couldn’t care less. 

“What about female and female.” she looks at the scientist with a grin, resting an arm on my shoulder. I glance up at him and he seems nervous again. A recom snorts behind us and Quaritch has given up on his team.

“Uh- no that won’t work.” he says, no longer looking into our eyes. 

Z pretends to be heartbroken with the goal of further embarrassing me. 

“Damn, Y/N I thought we could have fun.” she pouts. 

“Shut up right now.” I whisper my threat, trying to hold back laughter. Walker is fighting her laugh too. Z’s smirk turns into a bigger grin before she nods, letting me be. 

The meeting is over and I’m one of the first people to exit the room, heading straight to our dormitories. 

Someone jogs to catch up with me and I glance at them, noticing it’s Mansk. Oh god. 

“Hey, where you runnin’ off to?” he asks with a breathy laugh. 

“Away from Zdinarsk.” I say, groaning and running my hand over my face. He laughs as we walk before his gaze falls to the pills I’m holding. 

“Can I see?” Mansk asks and I nod, handing him the odd-looking medication. 

“Well, at least you won’t lose ‘em.” he jokes, hinting to their absurd colour and I chuckle before he gives them back. “Yeah.” 

We reach our rooms and he pats my back. “You better take ‘em otherwise I’ll have to be fighting off the others for you.” Mansk jokes, his eyes gazing into mine as he rests his hands in his pockets. I smile and nod. 

“I’m not gonna risk it.” I say and he nods. 

“See you around.” Mansk replies with a smile and a light wave before walking to his room which was only a few doors down. I go inside to my shared room with Z and place the pills on the table. 

The next few days are normal but on the fourth day after the meeting, I woke up feeling really thirsty. My mouth is dry but somehow it is salivating at the same time. I sit up, looking down at my body only to realise I had kicked the blanket off of me while sleeping. My skin felt really warm and my head was a little fuzzy. 

I gasp, remembering the heat cycle. I get on my knees, holding on to the railing of the bunk bed and look underneath me only to find that Z-Dog was already gone. My heart sank even more and I quickly check the time. Shit. I overslept. Not just a little, it was already LATE AFTERNOON!

Climbing down the ladder I groan, pissed off the Z didn’t wake me. But maybe I was sleeping so tightly she couldn’t. 

The pills…

That didn’t matter that much though because my body was burning up and I needed to take the pills. 

They weren’t on the table anymore. I stand there, blankly staring at the spot I had left them in. Maybe Z thought they were hers? Or she took them on purpose to annoy me. Whatever she had done, it was bad and I was having a crisis. I dig through our bags and underneath our blankets, pillows and mattresses but there is nothing. No sign of them at all.

Okay plan B, find Z-Dog and get them back. 

I put my hand on the doorknob before freezing. My eyes scan my body before I look back up and let out a frustrated sigh. 

“Clothes.” I mumble, almost forgetting. But there was no time to get dressed in uniform so I just threw a t-shirt I found on a chair over me, keeping on my sleeping bra and shorts. 

“Go find Z.” I mumble, rubbing my forehead. I don’t know why I was speaking my thoughts out loud but it helped me organise them. 

I close the door behind me, speedwalking down the corridor before my body is punched with the feeling of thirst once again. It’s so extreme that I’m panting. 

“Water...” I mumble, hastily looking around. The plan of finding Z is gone now.

Perfect! Mansk’s room is right here. He’ll have water if he’s there. Without another single little thought going through my ‘heat drunk’ and clouded mind, I’m already knocking on his door. I raise my knuckles and knock again, calling out his name and before I can let my hand rattle his door once more he opens it, seeming confused as to why the knocking was so urgent. 

“Y/N?” he asks, standing in the doorway but I can’t even greet him I just push past Mansk and walk inside his room. He seems surprised but amused and closes the door behind him, turning to me.

I’m mumbling and chanting ‘water’ as I look for a water bottle or a can with any drink in it.

“What are you doin’?” he asks, smirking at me and my weird behaviour. 

“I’m thirsty.” I say as if it were the most obvious thing on the planet. 

“Right. And you ran out of water?” he asks, stepping closer. 

“No?” I reply. It hadn’t crossed my mind to go back to my room for water. 

Mansk doesn’t question it further and fishes a bottle out of his bag, handing it to me. I quickly grab the plastic, gulping down the water and panting once it’s done. Why am I still panting? It should be gone by now. 

“Damn. Are you okay?” he asked and I stared blankly for two seconds before looking at him and shaking my head. 

“I need to find Zdinarsk.” I say, putting the empty bottle down. “Help me find her please, it’s urgent.” I say, walking to the door but only making it halfway before my body tenses up and I’m instinctively pressing my legs together. 

Mansk seems agitated by something. He unclasps his hands from tightly balled fists before looking back up at me. “What happened?” he asked, sounding normal which made me forget his odd behaviour. Not that mine was any more normal. 

“I forgot to take my pills.” I mumble, palming my forehead before nervously looking at him as if he had a solution. Mansk chuckles, thinking I’m joking. How could someone lose such brightly coloured meds?

“Yeah, you lose your uniform too?” he playfully said back, grinning a little. I stared at him helplessly. I needed these pills now. 

“Mansk I’m serious. I can’t find them and I think Z-Dog has them-” I say, bending over and leaning my arms on my knees while I pant for air. 

The smirk falls right from Mansk’s face as he watches me carefully, studying my every move and my behaviour. 

“We need to-” I say, gulping and then gasping for air. “... find her, before I…” I say trailing off and standing upright, now looking at the ceiling. Sweat beads were forming on my skin and I felt my core throbbing. But I tried ignoring it as best I could because I didn’t want to make it weird for Mansk. 

“You sayin’ you didn’t take the meds?” he asks, wrapping a hand around the edge of a chair and squeezing it until his knuckles turn white. His ears are strained back and his tail starts swaying a little more wildly. Similar to the way mine is acting which I only notice now. 

“No, I couldn’t find-” 

“And you came here?” he asks, raising his voice a little. I look up at him and he notices how glossy my eyes have become. 

“I didn’t know where else to go-” I reply almost in a sob, my voice breaking. Suddenly I feel overly emotional. 

 “I thought you could help me.” I say, sniffling. Mansk tilts his head to the side a little and I notice how tense he is. 

“Help?” he repeats.

“Find Z so I can get the pills back and-” I whine, wrapping an arm around my waist. It was starting to ache between my legs and it was becoming extremely hard to ignore. 

“Y/N the pills won’t help now.” He tells me and my ears perk forward. 

What does he mean? How would they not?

“But the doctor said-”

“You have to take them before you… feel like this. Not during it.” Mansk states and I stare at him wide-eyed. That’s it then I’m done for. 

“They said it while you were leavin’.” he added, mumbling the last part. 

I whimper, hugging my waist and crouching down. What do I do now?

Mansk is watching me, fighting the urge to come to help me. 

The second you walked past him and into his room, he could smell your strong and sweet scent. It filled his nostrils and now it was all he could smell. It was addicting to him, luring him towards you so he had to resist for the sake of your friendship. But seeing you fight it like that made him feel bad. 

“It hurts…” I sob, my hands trembling a little. Never in my life have I experienced a feeling this intense. Nothing could compare to the cravings I had for the filthiest things I could imagine. 

“That bad, huh?” Mansk asks, taking a few steps towards me and I nod through a sniffle.

It would make Mansk a bad friend if he wouldn’t offer to help you. Not that he was pushing himself to do so. In fact, he was holding himself back from just doing what his own instincts told him to do. But you were important to him and he could never leave you hanging like this in misery. Mansk was able to give you what you needed and he was also more than happy to do so. 

“I can help you with that.” he offered, towering over my bent-over form. I look up through now teary eyes. The sight makes his stomach twist with excitement. 

Slowly I get up, pushing myself off my knees so that I’m standing in front of him. 

He was looking at me seriously and I could tell he wasn’t joking or making fun of me. 

“Help me?” I ask, completely dumbfounded and he nods, not tearing his eyes away from mine. I notice how much darker his have become. 

“How?” I ask, just wanting to make sure we mean the same thing. 

The corners of his lips turned upwards slightly as he admired my widely blown eyes nervously flickering and scanning his face. 

“Y/N what is it you want right now?” he asks, placing a finger beneath my chin to make me look at him. “What do you need?”

My lips part slightly as I feel the urge to answer but the answer is right in front of me. Since I’m too much mentally gone, I just truthfully answer. 

“You.” I whisper, oddly feeling no shame. Mansk looks very pleased with my answer. 

“How bad?” he teases, swiping his thumb over my wet lips.

I shivered, closing my eyes at the sensation for a second before looking back at him. 

“So bad…” I whisper, trying to stay composed but then I break. My eyebrows furrow and I whimper, clenching my thighs together. “Mansk I need you so much…” 

He wasn’t expecting you to be so desperate but it definitely turned him on by that much more. Now he was horny too and he felt his dick twitch at your words. 

“Fuck, babygirl you gon’ have me actin’ up if you keep doin’ that.” he smirked, admiring how flushed my cheeks have become. 

“You want me?” he asks, wanting to make sure one last time before you both overstep the boundary of your friendship. 

“Let me take care of you.” he whispers, leaning down and pulling my body flush against his. His hand wraps around the back of my neck as he pulls my face to his and our lips are firmly pressed against each other. I immediately melt into him, accepting everything he’s giving me.

“Yes.” I cry out, throwing my head back and he grins. 

I tightly clench my fingers around the cloth of his tanktop, humming into the kiss and he growls. 

Mansk’s hands are planted on my back, pulling me further into him as they trace down lower. Suddenly, he slides them down and gropes the flesh of my ass. I moan into the kiss and he takes advantage of that and lets his tongue explore my mouth. 

Mansk doesn’t keep you waiting for long though. He knows how bad you have it and quite frankly, seeing you like this has him becoming desperate for you too. But he will make sure you get what you need before he takes care of himself. 

We pull away for air and Mansk keeps his eyes locked with mine. 

“What you need from me, sweat’eart?” he asks, now breathing heavier too. 

I know what I want him to do but I’m still scared of making him uncomfortable. 

He smiles when you look away, noticing how shy you are even in this state. Mansk liked it. Mainly because you were always cocky and teasing around him. Finally, he got to see this side of you and it did things to him. 

“C’mon pretty, tell me and I’ll do it.” he cooed softly, cupping my cheek in a comforting way as he leaned in a little closer so that he could watch my every reaction. 

“Touch me…” I say but it comes out sounding like a squeak. Mansk groans through his clenched jaw, balling his fist up tightly again but this time in the cloth of my loose t-shirt. This is really putting all his self-control to the test. 

“Where?” He asks, wanting you to be precise so he can please you as best he can. That was really Mansk’s main priority right now. But he saw how your hot tears were threatening to spill and felt a little bad about making you spell it out for him. 

“Anywhere.” I whine, looking up at him with big eyes which are clearly asking for help while I sniffle. 

That’s all your best friend needs to hear. It’s also all he can stand and listen to because now he was no longer able to restrain himself from touching you. 

His hands rested on the side of my lower waist and he gently guided me backwards until my knees were pushed against the bed. 

He smiled to reassure me and I sat down on his mattress. He leaned down on his arms and connected our lips once again before tapping my thigh and signalling me to move over. I listened while my own stomach twisted in excitement and anticipation. 

He straightened his posture and his arms reached behind his back before he tugged his own top over his head. I couldn’t tear my eyes from him. He looked perfect in every goddamn way. Everything on him looked sculpted and so attractive I wanted to worship and touch his body.

But that wasn’t happening. At least not today because Mansk was here to help you. 

He leaned down, placing a knee on the bed and making the mattress dip before he crawled over to me. I had my head resting on his pillow and he smirked down at me. 

Never would he have thought he would have you like this. And all to himself too. 

When the heat cycle was mentioned, Mansk immediately felt protective again. He would make sure no one would get especially close to you, other than himself of course. You were close friends so there wouldn’t be any suspicions. 

His large, warm hands travel up my waist and with them he slowly pushes up the fabric of my shirt, making the cloth crinkle until it reaches above my chest. I lean forward and he helps me take it off so that I’m only left in my bra and shorts I wear to bed. 

“You’re so pretty, baby.” he mumbles, kissing down the warm skin of my neck. My hands find his bare torso and I trace his skin, exploring and feeling as much of him as I can. I’d seen him shirtless before during training but this was so much more intimate. 

He notices the way I shiver at his words, taking note of how his praise affects me. He’d use that to his advantage later. 

All fabric on my skin is now bothering me and finally, my knight in shining armour helps me by peeling my bra off. I sigh, feeling more comfortable with every piece of clothing being discarded. 

The sight makes his confident self falter for a few seconds. He always knew you were attractive. That was part of the reason he looked out for you so much too. Obviously, he cared for you but he knew that your looks often lured in the wrong kind of attention and he saw it as his duty to protect you from those kinds of people. 

But you weren’t just pretty or hot anymore, you were beautiful to him. 

Mansk leaned down, needing to touch you as much as you needed to be touched right now. 

He resumed his kisses, peppering them down my skin which made butterflies come to life inside me. I ran my fingers through his hair as he kisses down the valley of my chest. One of his hands came up from resting next to me and he gently massaged my breast, paying attention to my every sigh and hitched breath.

His ears would perk forward at every sound and movement you made and his tail was giving away his own excitement. But he still ignored it, using you as a focal point. 

I squirmed beneath him, craving more. “Mansk…” I breathe out and it encourages him to move on further. 

His hands trace down my sides until they reach the last remaining fabric on my body. Mansk’s fingertips hook underneath the waistband of my shorts and I lift my hips up. He interprets this as a clear indication of consent and pulls them down my legs, making sure my tail doesn’t get tangled in them. 

I was now completely bare in front of him and I heard Mansk sigh. His body relaxed as he stared down at me, admiring every curve and wrinkle on my body. 

“God, you look so beautiful.” he breathes out his compliment but it almost sounds like a curse escaping his lips. As if he was losing himself more every second he used, gazing at you. 

“Mansk, please-” I whine, surprising myself by raising one of my legs and opening them for him. 

He was speechless. Previously he had stated that he loved your shy side. But you showing yourself to him like that was the hottest thing he has ever seen and Mansk was officially pussy drunk. 

“Fuck.” he breathed out, moving further down the bed so he could properly look at you. His hands slide up my thighs and he gently parts them even further, being completely hypnotised by you. Your scent was the strongest it has ever been and he could now properly see how wet you were. Wet was an understatement at this point. You were wet when you woke up. Now you were dripping. 

The slick had covered your entire pussy and had already spread down the insides of your thighs a little. 

Mansk’s lips were parted and his mouth was salivating a lot at the sight gracing his eyes. He watches how your core was faintly pulsing, clenching around nothing and that’s when he finally understood how badly you needed his help. 

“What were you expectin’? Comin’ in here all worked up like this, huh?” he asked me, grinning as he lowered himself down on the mattress. I didn’t know how to answer and once I felt his breath fanning against my core, I couldn’t think straight. Mansk smirked before he wrapped an arm around my thigh. His fingers of his other hand gathered up the slick that drizzled down my thigh and he rubbed it back on my folds, finally touching me. 

I inhale sharply, letting my eyes flutter closed as I feel his fingers on me. He glides them through my folds before wrapping that arm around my other thigh. A few seconds, nothing happens and I go to lift my head but then I feel his hot tongue lick a long stripe from my aching hole to my clit and I let it drop back into the pillows, moaning. 

“Oh my god-” I breathe out and it sounds like music to Mansk. All self-control is now out of the window and Mansk just dives in between my legs with an open mouth. His tongue is licking every part of me it can access while he keeps his lips pressed against me. 

I cry out, resting one of my hands on his head while I bite down on my fist. I don’t want to be too loud in case someone is walking past the door. 

Mansk continues eating me out, flicking his tongue wildly, mixing his saliva with my slick. I’m already trembling and then he traces my entrance with it, lapping up any wetness he can still get before he pulls away and inserts a finger into me. I tense around it, finally feeling some sense of relief. 

He doesn’t stop and starts thrusting his long digit in and out of me before adding a second one. I’m arching my back off the bed while Mansk is intrigued with how the slick has coated his fingers already.

I’m so sensitive, especially to his touch that it doesn’t take long until I feel my orgasm approaching. 

“Mansk-” I choke out, gasping for breath. “I’m so close.” I whimper. He purrs happily against me, wanting me to cum all over his fingers.

The intense vibrations his body elicits, sending them through him from his lips make me lose my mind. His lips wrap around my clit and he’s licking and sucking it while thrusting his fingers into me at a faster pace. 

I almost scream his name and within seconds I’m cumming. My legs shake and my thighs clench around his head which he loves. He digs the fingertips of his free hand into the flesh of my thighs, relishing in the feeling of me holding him in place. I’m a moaning mess, gripping the sheets around me for dear life as I clench around his fingers. 

Mansk helps me ride out my orgasm, not letting his pace or movements falter for even a split second. 

Finally, my body slumps back down against the mattress and Mansk slowly stills his movements, cleaning me up with his tongue one last time before pulling away and smirking up at me. His lips were glossy from me and his tongue darted out, licking them clean too. 

“How’d that feel?” he asked, knowing it was good. Mansk just needed your reassurance. 

“Holy shit-” I say, breathing heavily while my chest is heaving like crazy.  “So good.”

His smirk turns into a devilish grin as he crawls back over me and places a soft kiss on my cheek. 

“You feel better?” he asked, wondering whether that solved it. But it didn’t. As the scientist said, only mating would make it go away. 

“A little bit.” I answer, leaning up against my elbows so I can look at him better. Mansk pulls away, sitting back on his knees. 

“It still hurt?” he asked me with curiosity. I saw how strained his pants were and I knew that that was the solution and answer to it all. 

“Mansk I need you.” I whisper, sitting up to be on the same level as him. My words surprise him.

He wasn’t sure whether it was okay for him to be intimate with you feeling like this. He didn’t want to take advantage of you. 

“You sure you wanna go all the way?” he asked me as if it wasn’t what I’d been needing this whole time. 

“Yes.” I answer, giving him a pleading look. “Please…” I add when I notice he isn’t entirely convinced. 

Mansk would love to do that more than anything but you meant so much to him he would never forgive himself if he hurt you or had you do something you would regret later. Luckily, the begging did it for him and he complied. 

“You want my dick?” he asked, the worry clearly fading as an amused smile painted his face again. 

“So much.” I reply while leaning back down. He’s hovering over me again, scanning my features. 

Seeing you all desperate for him makes his dick twitch in his pants. He nods, pushing himself up and undoing his belt with one hand. Something about that was really attractive and I watched with wide eyes. 

His eyes are fixed on my face and his confidence is fueled by the way I’m watching him strip. Mansk notices the goosebumps rising on my skin and he softly chuckles, dropping his head before finally pushing his pants down and kicking them away

I gulp. Wow. I was not expecting it to be so fucking… big. 

He looked painfully hard. I mean, his dick slapped up against his belly button when he took his pants off and it was still standing. I saw the veins on the underside of his length, making it pulse with how they were pumping blood through him. There was not a single thing I would change about Mansk.

“Don’t worry baby, you’re gonna get it all.” he cooed, his voice sounding a little raspy and much deeper. 

He climbed back over me, his arms resting on either side of my head almost caging me in. 

“Thank you.” I whispered. I no longer thought about anything I said, it just came out and it made Mansk laugh. He knew my mind was clouded with lust so he didn’t tease me about it but it amused him. 

His hips lowered down and pressed up against mine. I instinctively opened my legs and he then stroked my inner thigh.

I wrapped my hands around his neck and my fingertips found his braid. If we were going to do this we needed to do it properly. I gently wrap my hand around it, making Mansk stop his movements as I pull it over his shoulder and between us. 

His wide eyes lock with mine and then I pull my own braid forwards. 

“You really want to?” he asked, letting me take care of it to make sure I was really up for this.

“Mansk I need this.” I whisper and I watch how his pupils dilate, making his eyes go darker again. “Is it okay?” I ask him, not wanting to rush him into anything. 

“More than okay, sweetheart. “ he grinned, nibbling on the skin of my neck again, but this time on the other side. “ ‘Means no one else will get te’ see you like this.” Mansk purred, loving the idea that he wouldn’t have to worry about the others making moves on you anymore. You would be permanently marked as his and no one else could stand a chance. 

I smile, pinching the base of my braid and revealing my cord. I do the same with his and slowly bring them together. We form tsaheylu and get used to the feeling of being connected by spending a few minutes just breathing. When we open our eyes and our gazes meet, a lot has changed. Mansk could now feel how much I craved him and the lust in both of us grew. 

I spread my legs further, letting him press himself against me and gently grind into me. Our breathing is heavy, light panting filling the room as he pulls his hips away, lining them up so that his tip is pressing up against my entrance.

He looks at me one last time and I nod before he finally starts pushing into me. Pleasure fills us both but he doesn’t stop until he’s bottomed out. His abdomen presses against me and he can’t go any further. 

I gasp, biting down on my lower lip as he stretches me open. It doesn’t hurt, it just takes some getting used to. 

I sigh, relaxing after finally feeling full. Mansk is fighting himself to not move too much but the way you’re so tightly squeezing him is making that a very difficult task for the recom. 

“Move, please.” I whisper and relief floods him when he gets the green light. He slowly pulls out and then pushes back in, a little faster and easier this time. The warmth of my pussy and my wetness have already covered his entire length and Mansk is in heaven. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.” he growls the next time he pushes in. I whimper, wrapping a leg around his waist to encourage him to go faster. He does. His hips thrust up into me, bottoming out once again and I moan. The noise makes him open his eyes and he keeps the same pace. His hand wraps around the thigh resting on him, holding it close to his body while his hips start rutting into me harder every time.

“Mansk-” I whine. “Don’t stop…” 

He growls in response. Our ears are flattened back against our heads and he’s baring his fangs with every pant. Mansk’s eyebrows are knitted together in pleasure and his lower lip is bruised with how hard he’s been biting down on it. 

“You’re takin’ me so well baby.” he breathily says, dropping his head down close to me. I live off of his praise and he knows that by the way I clench around him. It has him feeling ecstatic so he continues. 

“Bein’ so good f’ere me.” he growls and I whimper, holding onto his shoulder as I feel the pressure build up in my lower abdomen again. 

“I’m gon’ fill you up real good, okay?” Mansk says, looking at me for permission and I nod, digging my nails into his back. 

Normally I’d never cum from just penetration but now I can feel his pleasure too and my high is so close once again. 

“Let go, baby.” he whispers into my ear, pressing his cheek against mine while he feels how close my orgasm is. 

My body shakes and with the next few thrusts, I’m cumming again. My eyes roll to the back of my head and I could swear I see stars for a second. My legs clamp around his waist and the feeling makes Mansk lose it. His hips stutter as he plunges into me as deep as possible, riding out our orgasm while he pumps me full of his cum. I feel so full and I wish more than anything in the world that this high would last longer. 

Both of us calm down a little, gathering our breath and our senses while Mansk stays tucked away deep inside me. I can feel him throbbing inside me and my limp legs fall from his waist. 

Mansk inhales deeply before gently lowering himself down onto my body. I wrap my arms around him while he nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck and we calm down in each other’s presence. 

“You feel better now?” Mansk asks and I chuckle. 

“Much better.” I whisper, raking my fingers through the short hair on his head again. 

“Thank you.” I say and he lifts his head and smiles at me. 

“Hate to do this to you, but the Colonel expects to see you today. We have work to do.” Mansk says and I groan, rubbing my eyes. 

“Right. I forgot.” I mumble as Mansk gently pulls out. Our cords have automatically disconnected now and he slowly got up, handing me my clothes. 

“Forgot that too?” he joked and I smirked. 

“I swear it wasn’t my fault. Z-Dog has them.” I protest, sitting up and getting dressed. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Wanna make this a bet?” he asks with a smirk. 

“Sure.” I reply confidently, making him smile more.

“I win, you give me head. You win, I give it to you again.” he says, leaning against the wall with his pants already on and giving me a devilish look. 

“Fine, have fun redoing your part.” I say and he chuckles and nods while we both finish getting dressed and I walk to his door.

“You know this is a win-win situation for me, right?” Mansk grins with his arms folded in front of him and I stop to look at him. 

“Same goes here, I’ll see you tonight then.” I say, flashing him a grin as we leave his room. 

Mansk watches out for me the rest of the day, almost never leaving my side. I find Z-Dog but she pretends like she has no idea what happened to my meds. But I know she took them and I was going to prove it.

Tag List: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @ikranwings @number1gal

[emperor-palpaminty]

*taps mic* John Price but with kiss… *rolls dice* ten

UGH A DESPERATE KISS??? JSJISJKSJKS. i'm going with a lawyer reader again saying hi to john our pal our boy coming back from war hehe. not smutty just corny and cheesy

Kisses found here!

Every little noise had you on edge. The scratching of the tree on your window sounded like a key in the lock. The neighbor's kids racing down the hall were reminicent of excited foot steps, coming to seek you out. The candle you had burning smelled like his cigars, with traces of vanilla found in its scent. It was comforting. Warm. And so very John.

Of course, you knew he would be home soon. He had confirmed with you before he left about when the mission would be done- no information if its wherabouts or the target or the nature of the mission, but Captain John price had, no doubt, run off to be your hero once more. But as much as you loved that hero, the good-natured man being the natural badass he was, you were always happy when he came through the door. You were always happier to have your John back.

And he seemed always happy to come back to you.

Your shoes were abandoned by the door. You had spent too long standing in court, debating and presenting, and you were set to stand for just a little longer to finish dinner. A groan left your mouth as you turned your head. Tension pulled between your neck and jaw, easing it's way out and the muscle slowly becoming sore from overuse. You wanted nothing more than to lay down and sleep, but your empty stomach was far more convincing.

You stirred the veggies in the pan, reaching back and turning up the heat. Your pasta and the sauce was done, now you were waiting on the vegetables. You made yourself eat them, really; your John was so good at cooking and it made you want to expand your cooking beyond your regular few meals.

Your heart bruised in your chest. Your John- it felt dramatic, always, to be standing at your door with bated breath and wrapped in your most comfortable robe, hoping that perhaps he would slip in during the night.

You could convince yourself that you heard his step. The scratching of his key at the door. You stared at it, longingly, watching it.

The knob turned.

You stared at it, heart jumping into your throat as the door cracked open and loving eyes looked in, the unmistakable grin coming to his mouth.

"Hello, love."

Your hunger abandoned you, leaving only shock and joy and want behind in your chest. You forced your legs to move and you rushed to him, and Captain Price met you halfway and dropped his bags at the door. He scooped you up, his face buried against your neck, facial hair tickling your skin. "Missed ya."

His palms flattened against your back and you nodded, all words becoming senseless tears and sobs against him. John turned his head, humming as his mouth kissed your face, lowering you. He was steadier than even the ground, one hand moving up to wipe away your tears as he kissed you, tenderly but somehow needing.

"'s alright, love. I'm here now." He said, between kisses, making up for lost time. "I'm home."

[hooter-n-company]

Based on the results of the last poll, it's time to introduce this fella (as well as his family) to Hooter's line-up! Special thanks to @amanofhamm, the co-owner of these characters. He's the one who pitched the idea in the first place, and came up with most of the written info about them and the world they live in.

Bulzar is part of a race of desert dwelling reptilian giant, known as the Meradon. Voracious, gluttonous, gruff, crude, and harboring an intense distrust of humans, he's a terror to the unfortunate (and delicious) travelers who accidentally cross his path. He takes immense pride in his size, strength, and appetite, although he's certainly not the sharpest tool in the shed. Despite his ferocity, he is an incredibly loving and protective father of one, named Miko. He may be stern at times, but he will sacrifice anything for his son, even if it means giving up a few live meals to avoid upsetting his strictly vegetarian child.

More info under the cut:

Name: Bulzar

Pronouns: He/him

Age: Late 30s to early 40s (in Giant years)

Species: Meradon

Role: Pred

Height: 50 ft tall

Abilities: Immense size and strength, resistance to extreme heat, can survive long periods without food or water

Likes: Meat (especially the squirmy variety), melons, pumpkins, hot weather, sunbathing, isolation, long naps, defending his territory, oases with plenty of water, scaring humans, showing off his scars, making Miko smile, happy memories of his mate

Dislikes: Humans (with a few rare exceptions), poachers, other desert monsters, dark magic, cold weather, dry spells, hard to digest plants, giving up live meals, Miko in distress/danger, showing vulnerability or weakness, grieving his mate

Other Info:

- When he was younger, Bulzar was captured and brutalized by a band of humans who intended to brainwash him. He managed to break free and devoured his captors, but kept the chains around his wrists and ankles. He thinks they make him look badass.

-He met a female Meradon named Demeera while in captivity, freeing her during his escape. They would soon become a mated pair with an incredibly close bond, eventually having a son together. Not too long after Miko's birth, Demeera would contract a serious illness. Despite his best efforts, Bulzar didn't have the resources or medical knowledge to help her, and she passed away while Miko was still a baby.

- While Bulzar has a serious dislike of humans, the one exception is a trio of human bounty hunters: Balroc, Owin, and Grimaldus. The three healed Miko's injuries after he was attacked by hunters, and despite getting off to a VERY bad start with the lil' Meradon's father (who ate Balroc and quickly regretted it), they would sort things out and be on generally friendly terms from that point on

-Raising Miko, he quickly discovered his son's aversion to killing/eating animals, something quite rare for omnivorous Meradons. While Bulzar is bothered that Miko refuses to eat meat with him, he still respects his son's wishes and will hold off on hunting for prey when Miko is present.

[lumosinlove]

Christmas Eve Will Find Me

One: Finn

King’s College

London, England

“So, to wrap up…”

It was nearly a half hour too early, but Finn was tired. This class wasn’t clicking with him, not like his 11:00 o’clock. Maybe it was because it was nearly Christmas holidays. Not even a week left. The students were sluggish. They were giddy. They wanted to go home so badly—homemade meals and presents and holiday markets—that it didn’t even occur to them to think anything other than that Professor O’Hara would want to do the same.

Finn didn’t want to go home. Home wasn’t there to go to. Just a building now. Just a room.

“Um.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I know this is the last reading of the semester guys, but let’s at least try to be a little comprehensive. Austen is badass, okay?” They laughed. Somehow, swearing always worked to crack open a class’ shell. And Finn was an expert. “Give the ending what it deserves.”

He looked up when no one said anything. Hands were on bags, poised to go, and it ticked something wrong inside of him. He wanted out, too, but he didn’t know where. “All right. See you on Wednesday for our final class.”

Even before he finished speaking, people were leaping out of their chairs. He’d expect half attendance. Tops. He tried to clean up his desk quickly. Tried not to forget anything here.

You’re always leaving something, mon amour, aren’t you?

“Professor O’Hara?”

Finn looked up. “Oh, hey, Martha.”

Martha. He could always count on Martha. She was a third year, took almost all of his classes. She was smart, if not a little eager and quick to cut her classmates off.

“I just wanted to say that I won’t be here on Wednesday. I have a pretty long way to go, and the flight was cheaper. I hope you don’t think I’m ditching.”

He could almost always count on Martha.

“Nah, of course not.” Finn picked up his books. “Have a good break.”

“Thanks. Um. And this is for you.”

She was holding out a tin. Cookies, probably. Or, biscuits, as they called them here. It was always something with her. Last year, she’d given him a scarf and he really had thought he’d have to sit her down and firmly say that, not only was he her teacher, but he had a husband.

Finn almost laughed. Almost.

Mon Rouge, they all have crushes on you. Don’t even pretend you don’t know that. Hands in his hair, familiar mouth on his cheek. But you always come home to me. All for me?

“Thanks that’s really kind of you.” He dredged up a smile. He took the tin. “Happy holidays.”

“Are you and your husband doing anything special?”

A strange cotton-buzz started up in his ears.

Martha blinked, a little confused, and pointed tentatively at the background on Finn’s phone, which had lit up with an email.

“That’s your husband right? You always mention him—or—sometimes you do. And he came to our class once, remember? Last year. I think he’d just gotten back from a business trip and he surprised you. It was so cute, everyone was talking about it for ages.”

Finn remembered that. Logan had been gone for a month. A month. Remember when he thought a month of spaced out phone-calls from strange numbers was difficult to deal with? Last week, someone had gotten a wrong number at 9:30 at night and Finn had sobbed himself to exhaustion on the kitchen floor. Hope was stubborn, it was so stubborn.

“Yes,” Finn said. “I remember.”

He stared at the phone background. Logan, early in the morning. About a year and a half ago now, Finn had received a ticket to Spain with a little heart drawn on it. It had brought him straight to Logan and the most luxurious hotel he’d ever set eyes on. Private suit. Private pool. A whole week, just the two of them. No sudden phone calls, no pulling the go-bag out from the back of their closet, no apologetic smiles, and no last kisses that Finn knew, despite all of his efforts, would fade eventually.

Logan, early in the morning. On the balcony, softer than the sunrise. Oh, that smile. Finn couldn’t do this. How was he doing this alone?

He needed to start telling people. More than their families, people in his daily life. He had been given a story by the agency and everything. It was the story given to Logan’s family. His parents. His three older sisters. God, Noelle’s voice on the phone, the two of them crying to each other. The one Finn had stumbled through for his brother Alex and his parents. He needed to. Logan Tremblay had died in a freak accident while overseas for work. He’d been killed on impact and had felt no pain. He had died overseas. Finn had seen the body, that was how the story went. Finn had seen it off the plane and he’d correctly identified him.

But there had been no body.

Only silence, which felt just as dead.

“I don’t know.” Martha shrugged. “Beach trip?”

Finn managed to shake his head. “No.” He swallowed. He put his hand against his chest. Logan’s necklace rested there. It was a ritual that he guessed was dead, too. Logan put the fleur-de-lis pendant, silver, around Finn’s neck every time he left. Finn placed it back around Logan’s every time Logan came home. “The usual.” That wasn’t really an answer at all. “Family.”

“Oh, lovely.”

He was planning on going to New York. His brother Alex and his family would be there. His parents. He thought his mom’s sister, too, maybe. What he would do there, he didn’t know. It would all be absences. One after another. Oh God.

“Have a great vacation, Martha,” Finn said. He grabbed his phone, and his notes, not bothering to even put them back in his bag. The tin of cookies. “Don’t worry about next class. You’re ahead anyway.” He didn’t know if that was true.

In his office, Finn shrugged into his jacket. He paused, looking at the green scarf on his office’s coatrack.

Two hands pulling him in.

“I didn’t know you were back,” Finn said against Logan’s mouth.

“No one ever knows where I am.” Logan smiled into their kiss. “That’s kind of the point.”

Finn came to—and it was like that, like waking up from a horrible sleep every time—from the force of catching himself with his palm against his desk. His chest hurt. He should tell someone about this. About losing time like this to memories he knew better than his own present. The tears came like this sometimes, too, unstoppable. He sent a glance towards the the small window in his door, but the blind was shut. He kept it that way now for this exact reason. The first breath heaved out of him and he sucked it right back in, dropping to a knee.

Happy holidays, happy holidays, happy holidays.

It was cold enough to feel like Christmas was coming. Finn hoped he didn’t look too horrible in the evening light as he made his way towards the Underground. His bag felt heavy and his eyes still felt warm from crying. Had it been crying? Part of him wondered—and sometimes he dreamed—that he was reliving Logan’s death somehow. Like if Logan had had to go through something, he needed to go through it, too. Maybe he had drowned. Or suffocated. Killed by someone? An accident? A cover-up, dragged through an backroad, buried in a shallow grave—Finn was about to get pulled under again, hand already against the brick wall, when a voice said his name.

He looked up, the wind brushing his hair off of his forehead. It was snowing, he realized, very lightly, and he had to blink against it to see who had called to him.

He actually didn’t recognize them at first. He supposed that was their job. Shifting shadows. A million different identities at once, depending on what they wanted a target to see. Not that he was a target. Their clothes were unimpressive, nothing to be remembered. No long dark coats, no hats. James didn’t have his glasses on and Sirius’ black hair was ruffling back in the wind. He might remember how handsome they both were, if he was a stranger.

But he wasn’t. Those were Logan’s team members, and Finn wasn’t supposed to know that.

Finn couldn’t look them directly in the eye as he approached. They waited for him.

“What are you doing here?” Finn asked. Logan?Logan?Logan?

James said nothing, but Sirius took something out of his pocket and handed it to Finn.

It was a photograph of Remus Lupin. Remus. Finn had really liked Remus, and so—he looked up at grey eyes—had Sirius.

“This was captured on a bank security camera in Athens,” Sirius said.

That’s where Remus and Logan had been. Accident. Not recovered. No more information. Back road? Shallow grave? Shot in the back of the head? Bruised wrists from tight ropes? Plastic bag struggle—

“What,” Finn began but had to cut off. It was happening—was it? Again. The panic. The sick sadness. The air just…went. Disappeared. Just like Logan. “Does this tell us what happened?”

He couldn’t stand the way Sirius hesitated. He reached out and gripped his arm. He didn’t feel like a ghost like Finn had expected him to.

“Does this tell us how they…” Finn whispered.

James stepped forward, hazel eyes looking so different without his glasses. “It was taken five days ago, Finn.”

[4ngeldusstt]

K A K A S H I H A T A K E headcanons

A/N: some cute things i came up with i wanted to write some kakashi my man deserves some attention too

Warnings: none

Wordcount: 727

♡ He knows you’re part of the ANBU, he was notified by Tsunade herself (even though he isn’t a part of it anymore) but everyone knows he is trust worthy and she thought it was something he deserved to know.

♡ He is very worried about you when you have a mission, usually he is told when something is going on in the village so when every once in a while you are sent to a very important and/or dangerous mission you must know he isn’t gonna have not a single minute of sleep until he knows you made it back safely.

♡ If it happens that you are sent alone to a mission just know he for a fact is gonna follow you, he is very cautious and is very good at hiding his presence to avoid being noticed, he does think you are more than capable of protecting yourself, don’t get him wrong, but he still does it mainly for his own mental sake.

♡ He is so so proud of you, when he has the pleasure to see you in action he can’t help but stare at you in awe, almost drooling as you take down opponents without breaking a sweat. Kakashi defenitelly thinks you are the most badass person he’s ever met and adores when other people praise or recognise your strength and your exceptional abilities.

(I must add he loves to brag about you and praise you when he has de opportunity, to the point his friends have to shut him up cause he can go on and on and doesn’t know when to stop, can you blame him though? Everyone has to know how amazing and beautiful you are, duh.)

♡ The combination of you being cute and gentle and the complete definition of a sweetheart to everyone but also in the other hand being capable of being ruthless and a overly skilled shinobi?? drives him i n s a n e, he just can't get enough of you!

♡ He loves when you call him nicknames, everyone calls him kakashi, sensei amongst others but you are the one that he allows to refere to him as anything else his favourites are kashi or baby, it makes him feel so special and gets pouty if you use his full name.

(You also make up weird ass names for him, for example: “my little baby prince”, “my angel king of my soul”, “baby veggie dumpling”, “prettiest shinobi of the land”, “my perfect angel baby” and so on, they make him laugh and in fact he adores them, its become a thing between you two, he honestly looks forward to what you come up with each time.)

♡ When he finally has you home after a long time away, (even more than a couple days is long enough for him) he has a delicious meal already prepared, a warm bath ready for you and some of your favorite flowers sitting pretty in a vase with a little present next to it, a small detail to make you smile, like a ‘welcome home’ present. There’s nothing in the world that he loves more than taking care of you, knowing himself how tiring ANBU missions can be, after a long mission he wants you to just get home and not have to do anything, and i mean anything, if you need something, even the smallest thing, you can be sure that he will do it for you.

♡ If you love books just like him, that’s something yall bond about, making it a tradition that on sundays you have a chill day where both of you only lounge in the couch/bed and read, just enjoying each other’s company and after that reading session he takes you to the village restaurant to eat dinner and comment/talk about what happened in the book.

You both for sure gift each other books all the time, if a new icha-icha book comes out oh boy, you are the first get your hands on it so your man can read it without having to wait. And the same for you, he has his ways to get the books you love even before they launch officially, it brings him genuine happiness to see how excited you get and how your eyes shine when you have a new story to devour.

<3 Overall he is just the perfect boyfriend, get yourself a Kakashi <3

[thebisexualdogdad]

Miguel Diaz x male reader nsfw headcanons

A/N: the original request disappeared from my inbox but it was just for general Miguel x male reader smut headcanons

● Miguel is not good at hiding when he's horny

● he gets flustered and stumbles over his words and sometimes stumbles over his own feet face first into the floor

● you think it's adorable that your badass all valley tournament champion boyfriend gets like that because of you

● you initially took the physical part of your relationship slow 

● it was over 9 months in before you did more than makeout and that was just a handjob in your car after a movie date 

● at about a year in Carmen and Johnny come home to find you two making out on the couch with his hands in your pants

● Johnny "Okay get some Miguel" 

● Carmen "Johnny! Don't encourage this and Miguel we talked about this, Y/N isn't allowed over when I'm not home" 

● Miguel gets grounded for almost a month for breaking the rules

● but when his grounding is over Johnny slips him a pack of condoms 

● "be safe out there Miguel" he says with a wink 

● once you finally do have sex he can't get enough

● he makes up fake karate practices to spend alone time with you

● Miguel is a pretty even 50/50 vers 

● he enjoys both topping and bottoming whatever you feel like that day 

● he's just happy to be having sex really 

● he prefers giving handjobs and receiving blowjobs

● again he gets super flustered when he's turned on so you love teasing him

● especially in public

● the easiest way to get him worked up is by putting your hand on his thigh under a table say like at lunch and ever so slowly inching it up to the center of his jeans while you eat

● he's had to excuse himself multiple times to deal with his now boner and blames it on the sour milk with his meal

● when you're feeling generous you've given him a couple of blowjobs in the school bathroom 

● Miguel is super affectionate before, during and after sex 

● always telling you how much he loves you and how incredible he thinks you are

● and asking what you want him to do to make you feel good

● and lots of soft and gentle post sex kisses 

[no-see-um-incorrect]

Milo and Sweetheart headcannons for the soul 

: sweetheart’s favorite thing is to hear is Milo’s mediocre singing in the shower

: Milo legitimately thought that his height was going to be an issue at the beginning of the relationship. He didn’t want sweetheart to keep having to bend down to kiss him or anything like that. But sweetheart nipped that in the ass and  assured him that it was more than ok that he is shorter then them

:when Milo made him and sweetheart’s first meal together. He was kind of nervous….. pretty nervous…… he was freaking the fuck out. But when sweetheart took the first bite, and had the biggest smile on their face and did the Little “Happy food wiggles” all his anxieties just melted away 

: i’ve said before that I think sweetheart rides a moped or a motorcycle…..and Milo loves it…he thinks it’s so Sexy and so Badass

: at sweethearts first pack meeting someone said something rude to Milo and he was upset about it (understandably) sweetheart sees this and wraps their arms around his neck and starts being all Sweet.

“hey baby~ you know. they don’t know what they’re talking about….your perfect honey”

And then he softens up

“God sweetheart…I don’t know what to do with that (>///<)”

David and Asher were obviously surprised that  someone could tame Milo’s anger so quickly 

that last one was long, so I’m gonna do a couple rapidfire 

: sweetheart has a peekaboo dye

: milo wears reading glasses

: Milo is the kind of guy that likes to receive flowers, so sweetheart gets him a bouquet on their way home from work whenever they remember 

: if sweetheart has a day off while Milo is working they will take little Videos and selfies with Aggro and send them to him

: when Milo and Sweetheart are flirting together, it’s all fun and games BUT WHEN SWEETHEART ruthlessly flirts with Milo in public….he can not handle it

: sweetheart has a few scars that they don’t like. When they are getting intimate Milo makes sure to give some Extra love to those scars

: there contact names for each other are

💋Sweetheart & Milove🧡 respectively 

: when Milo saw sweetheart wearing one of his T-shirts/hoodies for the first time. The man was speechless

I have more….Do you want to see more

[icycoldninja]

THAT WAS SO CUTE!!!! I NEED MORE PREGNACY CARE HEADCANONS FOR DANTE XD

You got it! Thanks for requesting, and keeping me motivated! 💜

Dante x Reader Pregnancy headcannons

-Doesn't know all that much about how the female body changes during pregnancy, but does his best to research it.

-Gets a bunch of books and reads articles online and stuff, doing his best to learn how he can help you during your pregnancy.

-Makes sure you eat 3 square meals a day, get plenty of exercise (while not overdoing it), and that you relax plenty too.

-Can't stop cooing at your belly, talking to the little life form growing within.

-If it's a boy, he'll train him to be a masterful devil hunter like himself, and if it's a girl, he'll train her to be a masterful devil hunter too--it doesn't really matter what their gender is, they're gonna grow up to be devil hunters.

-Decorates the nursery with you--but not in the way you'd expect. He hangs up posters of rock bands and has little demon figurines scattered about on the shelves, along with foam weapons so the kid can "destroy them".

-Gives you massages every night and helps you moisturize your belly skin with lotions and ointments and such.

-Plays metal lullabies (yes those exist) every night thinking that in doing so, the child will develop a badass mindset early.

-Forget baby books, Dante went out and bought a tiny water pistol and plans to teach the kid to use it as soon as they're old enough to walk.

-Takes more time off work so he can hang out with you, but unfortunately, he can't stay home forever. To compromise, he gets a big teddy bear, sews a big "D" patch onto the torso, and calls it the "Dante-Bear" with which you can cuddle while he's away.

-Wants to make you food but can't cook, so he spends about an hour or so a day reading recipes online, then another hour trying to act them out. He'll learn...someday.

-If you get chills during your pregnancy (some people do, it's normal), Dante will fire up his SDT and cuddle you till you warm up.

-Makes sure you are kept comfortable and happy--he loves you (and his unborn baby too) and can't wait for his little bundle of joy to arrive.