#idk if i can already call him my comfort character but he's getting there

[seaofolives]

look at him! he's just a dumb nature boy who loves foxes

[fairyysoup]

i can see you

♫︎ i can see you - taylor swift ♫︎

pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: The secret history of your long and arduous relationship with Steve Harrington.

aka: the 5 times you pined over each other, and the time you actually did something about it

words: 17.6k (we're NOT gonna talk about it lol)

cw: explicit, smut, piv sex, flirting, making out, heavy petting, slight exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), fingering, marking, biting, steve harrington has a big dick, themes of infidelity/cheating (sort of), skipping out on dates, bad dates, steve steal-your-girl harrington, almost-kisses, jealous!steve, jealous!reader, possessive behavior, smoking, alcohol consumption, allusions to marriage but it's never actually mentioned, canon compliant, reader and steve are the same age, 5+1 things, songfic, angst, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, pining, mutual crush, slow burn one shot, mild twist ending, begins in season two (1984) and ends in the 90s, high school, scoops ahoy era, family video era, waiter!steve, steve harrington (the eras tour), vignette, one instance of billy hargrove slander, original characters created for plot, inspired by i can see you by taylor swift, other taylor song inspo throughout bc i'm insane like miss swift

a/n: hi and welcome to ✨rose's mental breakdown✨ yes this song will be my number one on spotify wrapped bc i listened to it on a loop for five days straight while writing this. idk. anyways this is So Much and i'm tired of looking at it so if there are any mistakes i apologize. anyways whoever can point out the most taylor song references aside from the obvious titular one gets a doubloon

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

You brush past me in the hallway, and you don’t think I can see you, do you? I’ve been watchin’ you for ages, and I spend my time trying not to feel it…

Hawkins High, September 1984

He’s so pretty sometimes that it’s disgusting.

That’s really the only thing you think when you watch Steve Harrington sneak up on his girlfriend, Nancy Wheeler, and swoop her off the ground in front of her locker. From across the hall, your locker hangs open, your body turned halfway toward them so that you can pretend that you’re not staring.

You stare a lot.

It’s not exactly the hair, you think- everyone shits a brick about his hair, for some reason that you don’t understand. Yeah, it’s nice… but you like everything else about him, too. You like how sweet he looks when he laughs. You like the way that he holds himself and the way that he looks when he puts his hands on his hips and stands around like he’s directing the traffic around him. You like how much of a prince charming he is, really. It would surprise you if he doesn’t win prom king at the end of the year. They already call him King Steve, it’s not too far of a stretch.

You close your locker just as Steve kisses Nancy, in front of god and everybody in the C Corridor hallway. Steve’s arms wrap around Nancy’s petite frame and he dips her, like they’re in some sort of George Peck and Audrey Hepburn movie. Not that the place is much of a cinematic setting, though. Down the hall, the science rooms are doing their dissection units, so the whole place smells like formaldehyde and disinfectant, and you sort of feel like curling up into one of those dissection pans and dying, yourself. 

That should be me, your brain screams. Me!!

It’s always been like this. You’ve had a crush on Steve since freshman year- the fact that he’s dating Nancy, who’s a year younger than him, doesn’t escape your jealous mind. You’ve been in classes with him for four years, you’ve admired him quietly, you’ve hoped and prayed that he somehow noticed you noticing him.

You don’t think he knows you exist. Four years- and now you’re both seniors, about to graduate, and he still doesn’t notice you. You should really stop caring, or stop trying, or stop… pining. Or something. 

You hike your bag up onto your shoulder and juggle your books in your arms. The bell rings, and quite suddenly the entire hallway erupts into pandemonium (predictable, sure, considering everyone loiters around instead of actually getting to class on time). Kids fly around you in all directions to get to their next classroom. Nancy Wheeler ducks away from Steve Harrington, avoiding yet another kiss.

God, you wish you could kiss him.

Someone slams into your shoulder from behind, muscling past you to get to science lab 5, rat central. Your binder slips out of the stack of books in your arms and clatters loudly to the ground, just as someone walks past and kicks it across the floor.

“Fuck,” you spit, chasing after it. The back of your neck feels hot. For the first time in four years, you hope to god that Steve Harrington doesn’t notice you. 

You duck around people’s legs, trying to grab at your binder, while not trying to drop any more of the books in your arms. Loose papers are starting to fall out of the binder as it skitters across the floor, and this is becoming more and more of a comedy of errors by the minute.

Your fingers just brush the corner of it before someone kicks it again. 

“Do you mind?” you snap as they walk away, not even looking in your direction. Crouched close to the floor, you don’t matter. Maybe you could count that as a blessing, considering you don’t want to be perceived right now.

You finally just throw away all dignity and crawl across the tile floor- disgusting and dirty and covered in sandy grit, as though it hasn’t been cleaned all year- to get to your binder. 

And you come face to face with a pair of white Nike’s. Ones that you know way too well, because you’ve stared at them every time they’ve passed you in the hallway. 

Nonononono- You clench your jaw and then look up, way up, to find Steve Harrington towering over you. 

He looks like he was about to just step around you, but then he notices you gazing up at him from all fours, and his hazel eyes lock on yours. You blink at each other for a second before he flushes, a pink blush breaking out on his cheeks and crawling up his neck, and he looks away quickly, but crouches down to grab your binder before your hand can land on it. 

“Sorry,” Steve says quietly, gathering up the couple papers that had started to slide out of the folders inside. You sit back on your heels, your blood rushing in your ears, mortified. His big hands gently poke the papers back into the folder as they should be before he hands it to you. “Looks like you’re gonna be late to class.”

You scoff. “Look who’s talking.”

Steve’s eyes find yours again, and he’s finally so close to you that you can admire the little bit of green in them. You’ve never been close enough to notice before.

He cracks a lopsided smile, one that he uses to charm people, you know- you’ve seen him use it on teachers and cute girls alike. “I’m always late to the party. But I get there, eventually.”

“I hope so.” He cocks his head at you. He doesn’t know the real meaning to your words- or, at least, you don’t think he does. 

I hope you don’t stay oblivious forever, Steve Harrington. I hope you get there, eventually.

You take your binder from him, but you pull your eyes away from his a bit later than you properly should. “Thanks, Steve.”

You get up and take off toward your next class, walking quickly so that you don’t come off like you’re lingering too long. But, halfway down the hall, you look over your shoulder at him.

Steve hasn’t moved, still crouched down close to the floor, with his head bent like he’s deep in thought. With his back to you, you can still see the pink flush on the back of his neck, peeking out above his collared shirt.

‘Cause I can see you, waiting down the hall from me, and I can see you up against the wall with me. What would you do? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you…

Hawkins High, April 1985

Prom season sucks. Always has, and always will. 

Maybe it was your fault for hoping that Logan Sawyer, popular prick extraordinaire, was serious about wanting to take you to prom. He seemed serious enough, stopping by your locker during passing period and leaning over you as he asked you, his mega-watt smile making you blush. You’d counted yourself lucky- you didn’t think anyone was going to ask you, and people aren’t allowed to go to prom stag.

It took Logan two weeks to find a prettier girl to go with, though. You don’t know why it hurts so much. Maybe it’s because you wanted to believe that you were someone’s first choice, but it never quite seems to turn out that way.

You wipe your tears in the mirror, scowling at your puffy, bloodshot eyes. The bathroom next to the girls’ locker room in the sports wing is completely deserted at this time- the boys’ gym class is in session now, and you’re cutting into your lunch time, but you really don’t want to have to go and cry at a lunch table, in front of a bunch of your bitchy peers, who will inevitably make fun of you for it.

Sniffling, but slightly more composed, you head out of the bathroom. The sports wing is ridiculously bigger than any other wing of the school (typical of American public schools, to prioritize sports over every other department). The wing boasts weight training rooms, dance rooms, three separate gymnasiums, and a door directly to the football field, with the locker rooms on the farthest end to allow for easy access to the field. Connecting all of these rooms is the longest corridor in the building, which seems to run for half a fucking mile.

You’ll have to walk that half mile, because in order to get to the cafeteria, you’re gonna have to traverse the entire building. You might not get to eat much today, but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make. Maybe Mrs. Marshall will be kind enough to let you snack on a granola bar in your next class period.

Halfway down the long hallway, you feel the angry sting of tears behind your eyes again, and your face screws up in frustration. You stop, turning halfway back toward the girls’ bathroom, wondering if you should just go back in and allow yourself to cry some more.

Suck it up, you think to yourself, smacking at your tear stained cheeks. He’s not the guy you really want to ask you to prom, anyways.

You press your fingertips into your eyes to relieve the sting of tears, taking a deep breath. Being in high school is driving you crazy. At this point in the year, the teachers have given up teaching, the students have given up learning, and you’re basically just biding your time in a glorified babysitting service until you can inevitably grab your diploma and get out of here. You can’t wait for that time to arrive. 

A door opens further down the hallway, in the direction of the cafeteria. You wipe your nose once and keep moving in the direction you were going, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, standing in the middle of the hallway having a breakdown.

Moving forwards, you keep your eyes on the ground. Once you hear the door that had been opened slam shut again, you figure that whoever it was has moved on down the hallway, and you lift your eyes again. 

They have not, in fact, moved on. And you suddenly have the urge to turn and fucking run back into the girls’ bathroom, because Steve Harrington is bent over at the drinking fountain, directly outside the boys’ weight room.

What the fuck, what the fuck. You suck on your teeth, trying not to falter in your stride. Maybe he hasn’t seen you, and you can just pass him up. It’s fine, he hasn’t seen you crying. 

Your mind backtracks to the beginning of the year, you fumbling your binder all the way across the hallway and ending up right in front of him, crawling toward him. Looking up at him and probably, most definitely, making him really uncomfortable.

You have English class together, where you sit at the desk closest to the door. He comes in late almost every day, so he passes by you every time. Some days he looks at your desk. On good days, he meets your eye. But he hasn’t spoken to you since that day in September, and you really shouldn’t hold out hope that he will. 

You definitely don’t want him to notice you when you’ve been crying, your face is a mess, your hair is limp and you look bedraggled. You just want to fade into the background of your next class with whatever snack you can get from the cafeteria snuck into your bag, so you can stress eat it without any guff from a teacher (like you aren’t 18 and capable of deciding when you are and aren’t allowed to eat).

You keep your eyes down. If you don’t look at him, he doesn’t exist.

Except, Steve Harrington always exists, in the back of your mind, and in your periphery. He is impossible not to notice, as per usual. He really just draws the eye like a magnet. Try as you might, your eyes keep flicking up to take stock of him. 

He’s wearing a uniform gray P.E. shirt and gym shorts that don’t leave a lot to the imagination, and you fixate on his thighs more than you should. He has sweat dripping down his neck, wetting his hair on the sides of his face and the seam of his shirt. It shouldn’t be attractive. He shouldn’t be attractive. With his face a mess. And his hair limp, and looking bedraggled. Truly, you make a priceless pair, being the only two people in the hallway.

We’re perfect for each other, a voice says in your head. And you manage, for the first time in an hour, to crack a smile down at your shoes.

He finishes getting his drink at the fountain, and you figure that he’ll just go back into the weight room and not see you. But, of course, luck is not on your side.

Steve Harrington looks at you. And you look away, quickly, acting like you hadn’t been staring at him. And in your periphery, again, you see him stretch his arms over his head, and then turn and lean against the cinderblock wall beside the door to the weight room, with his hands on his knees as though he’s catching his breath.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

He does it so casually, and with the way he’s sweating and his face is flushed, you’re sure that he probably does just want to take a break before going in and lifting more weights. But something in the back of your mind says that the maneuver was too purposeful, immediately after he laid eyes on you. 

It could just be wishful thinking on your part. You heard through the grapevine that Steve and Nancy Wheeler broke up in a nasty way just before winter break, and it doesn’t seem like he’s been interested in anyone since. He hasn’t dated anyone, hasn’t flirted with any girls or showed up at any parties. Nancy must have really broken his heart.

You know too well what that feels like, right now.

Nearing where he leans against the wall, you keep your head down and you plan on just passing by without any acknowledgement from him, same as it ever was. If he’s still carrying a torch for Nancy, you’re sure that he doesn’t want anything to do with you. You’ve nearly convinced yourself of it.

But then you hear your name called quietly, and it nearly makes you jump. You look over at him, thinking you’re just hearing things, but you look directly into a pair of hazel eyes again, and you feel yourself rocketing back in time to September.

You didn’t even think he knew your name.

You slow to a stop. It would be rude not to stop, right? “Uh… hi, Steve. You good?”

Steve Harrington looks you up and down, while he leans against the wall and breathes a bit heavily, like he’s out of breath. He peers at you through long eyelashes, looking impossibly inviting despite everything; the setting, your appearances, the way that you feel like dissolving into a puddle right in front of him. “Yeah, great. You?”

He’s scrutinizing your face now. You shrug, since he’s already seen you, and there’s no way to pretend you weren’t crying thirty seconds ago. “I’m fine. Just being dramatic, don’t worry about me.” 

“When people say not to worry about them, it usually means that you should,” Steve muses. He looks coy, like he’s speaking from experience. 

You sigh, stepping forward to get your own drink from the drinking fountain. “Logan Sawyer called off our date for prom.”

“Oh.” Steve pauses for a few seconds, watching as you bend down and take your drink, more silent than he usually is. “I mean… that really sucks. I’m sorry. But… Logan Sawyer?”  

“Yeah.” You wipe your mouth, and then wet the ends of your fingers and use the cool water to rub at your stinging eyes again. When you’re done, you lean up against the wall beside him, letting your back settle into the cinderblock.

“The guy’s a fucking douche.”

“Tell me about it.”

“No, I mean it, I think it’s a good thing you’re not going to prom with him. He’s really shitty to girls.” You look up at Steve, who’s watching you with his arms crossed, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him wear. “I mean, the only guy worse than Logan is probably… I dunno…”

“Billy Hargrove?” 

Steve laughs. Actually laughs. You’ve wanted to make him laugh like that for four years. His cheeks turn crimson and he grins down at his shoes, snickering like there’s way more to the joke he’s laughing at than you even know about. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s gotta be the worst.”

You chuckle, albeit with a sadder tone than he has. “Well, I’m not going to prom with either of them. So, I can count my blessings. I guess.”

Steve frowns, and he looks like he’s going to say something else, but you’re already turning away, not wanting to continue the depressing conversation about your lack of dates. Especially not from the one guy who you desperately want to go on a date with.

You get a few steps away before he takes a step after you, saying, “Wait. You, uh-”

You stop, and look back at him. He looks dumbfounded, his arm outstretched like he was going to try to grab you if you didn’t listen to him. When you frown, he steps back against the wall, bringing his hand up to run through his hair. 

Oh . That’s a nervous tick. You know it, because you’ve watched him do it more than once in English, in front of the class during a presentation.

Steve looks down at his shoes, his brow scrunched in thought. He looks like he’s really trying to find the right words to say. In your head, a hopeful part of you imagines what those words could be. ‘Will you go to prom with me?’

Finally, he looks up at you resolutely. “You’ll find someone to take you to prom. I’m sure of it.” He nods a little, like he’s reassuring himself that he said the right thing. 

You can’t help the smile that springs onto your face. It’s incredulous, of course, but he can’t know that. Keep trying, baby. You’ll get there, eventually.

“Thanks, Steve.” It’s the second time you thank him in the course of the year.

But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?

Prom Night, May 1985

The dress you’re wearing is sleek and a lot simpler than some of the more popular styles on the dance floor, but you like it more than you care to admit. You’d just grabbed it off the rack at Macy’s, and beyond that you didn’t want to go all-out for prom. It turns out that your lab partner, Gavin Connelly, needed a date, too. So, you’re here with him, because you knew that if you missed prom, you would probably regret it.

Except, well.

Gavin, stoned out of his fucking mind, is sitting at one of the tables, nursing a cup of punch, looking like he’s two seconds from falling asleep. You’ve taken to making the rounds and saying hi to anyone you can call a ‘friend,’ because you’re tired of just loitering next to him. Something tells you he didn’t want to even be here.

The speakers are playing ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart,’ and couples are swaying on the dance floor in a Bonnie Tyler-induced haze. At a loss for people to bother, you wander back over to your date to find his head plastered to the white table cloth. 

You glance to the guy sitting next to him, a kid with glasses who you don’t recognize but who seems to know your date, because he’s just patting Gavin’s back. “Is he okay?”

“Oh, no, he’s dying.” The kid shoots you a sarcastic smile. 

You nod, pressing your tongue hard to the roof of your mouth. “Well, if he wakes up, tell him I’m getting some air.”

Fuck this. Fuck prom. Fuck high school boys.

Your heels, which are killing your feet already, click loudly on the tile hallway floor as you exit the gym. The table where you can check your bag and coat are located at the other end of the hall, where everyone is supposed to enter through the door to the football field.

You can hear voices from the far end of the hall, and Bonnie Tyler’s voice fading out the further you get from the gym. You might never be able to hear that song again without thinking of your ruined slow dance opportunity.

As you pass by, someone coughs off to the left and you turn your head to see Steve Harrington, black tie and all, loitering in the shadows. You stop a few feet from him and squint into the dark.

You can’t believe it. He always seems to show up at the worst times. “What are you doing, skulking around?” 

“I’m not sulking.”

You snort, stepping into the shadows with him. “No, skulk- like, sneaking around?” 

“Well, I didn’t mean to sneak-” he looks over his shoulder at the gym entrance. “I’m just getting some air.”

“Funny,” you murmur. “I was just about to do the same thing.”

He eyes you, a lot like he did a few weeks ago in this same hallway, further up toward the other end of it. He takes in your hair, styled painstakingly to ‘perfection,’ or as close as you could approximate it, and your off-the-rack department store dress. You suddenly feel like you aren’t as pretty as you thought you were at the beginning of the night. 

But then he meets your eye, and all those insecurities fade into the back of your mind. He’s smiling at you, and that can only be a good thing.

“So, uh…” Steve leans back against the wall, his hands in his pockets, “You found someone to take you?”

You press your lips into a tight line. You don’t really want to think about your date right now, but- “Gavin Connelly.”

“Who?”

You laugh, kicking the heel of your shoe against the ground with a soft clack. “Yeah. God, I wish I didn’t know him right now.”

“Why, what’d he do?” Steve sounds perturbed. You look up to find him scowling already.

“Oh, he just ate a pot brownie before he picked me up and passed out at one of the tables.” You finish with a tired giggle, shrugging at Steve as he peers at you with an annoyed expression. “Who did you bring?”

“Kelly Palmer.” 

You know Kelly. She doesn’t say much, but she’s gotten a scholarship to a big art school. “Do you like her?”

“Yeah, she’s nice,” he says mildly. Unconvincingly.

You can understand the subtext. She’s not Nancy. When you look at his face, he seems tortured in the low light coming from down the hall.

“Guess I’m oh-for-two,” Steve adds after a pause. “Last year’s prom, Nance and I didn’t have such a good time, either.”

You nod. It seems like there’s more he wants to say, but he doesn’t. “I’m sorry,” you offer. You don’t know the ins-and-outs of Steve and Nancy’s relationship, aside from watching them suck face in the hallway five paces from you for a year and a half. “Prom sucks. High school sucks. These can’t be the best years of our lives, trust me.”

“Yeah, I hope not.” 

“I just can’t wait to get out of here, you know,” you grumble, allowing your sour mood to come out a little more than normal. It seems like Steve is just really good at getting you to let your guard down. “I’m planning to go to Chicago for college. This is all just… you know, it’s just the starting point. What about you, any big plans?”

“Dunno. I didn’t get accepted to any schools, so I’ll just be getting a job here in town until something better comes along.” Steve shifts, his heel hitting the wall behind him. He looks disappointed when he says, “I think I made too many mistakes.” 

You frown, chewing on your lip. “What do you mean?”

He gives you a heavy look, like he’s gearing up to say something important, something game changing- and then his gaze softens. 

“You’ve got an eyelash.” He gestures to his own eye, like it’ll make you understand exactly where the loose one is on your face.

“Oh.” You falter, lifting your manicured hands and wiping at your undereyes. “Did I get it?”

“No, uh- here, I can-” Steve tentatively reaches forward, and you step toward him to let him touch your face. 

Steve Harrington is touching your face.  

His fingertip brushes your cheekbone, so featherlight you would barely feel it if you weren’t hyper aware of everything that he said or did. His touch glides across your cheek and toward your temple, and then he seems to keep it there, his hand hovering just over your skin.

Reflexively, your hand comes up to rest on his shoulder. You’re inches from Steve’s face, your eyes falling to his lips.

You could kiss him. You could live your fantasy, right now.

Steve’s gaze lingers on your face for a moment, and then he says, “You’re so beautiful.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. He doesn’t say that you look beautiful. He doesn’t say it conditionally, like it’s just for tonight. You are beautiful. Even when you’re crawling on all fours after your binder. Even when you’re crying, and your hair is limp, and you look bedraggled.

“Steve…” you whisper, inching closer to him. 

“STEVE??!”

You jump away from him like he’s burned you, and peek around the hall corner to see Kelly Palmer standing outside the gym looking up and down the hall, searching for him. She looks lost, and sad, like he must have ditched.

She looks an awful lot like you just did, coming out of that gym.

You feel Steve’s hand where it had fallen to your wrist, dragging your attention gently back to him. You take his hand and squeeze it once, giving him a tight smile. 

“You brought her here for a good time,” you say with your bravest smile. “Just don’t pass out at one of the tables on her, okay?”

Don’t be a douche. Don’t be like Logan Sawyer. 

Steve swallows, and gives you a short nod. You think he finally got there.

You give a soft pat to the lapel of his suit jacket. “Go get ‘em, tiger.” 

He touches your arm one final time before he slips around the corner, just as Kelly turns to go back into the gym. You watch him walk away, and you think to yourself, That’s the last time I chase after Steve Harrington.

Wherever there is, it’s not with you.

Steve loops his arms around Kelly’s waist and lifts her, earning a thrilled squeal as the silver taffeta of her dress glints blue in the light from the gym. You wait until they’ve disappeared back into it before you turn and high-tail it toward the coat check table.

And we kept everything professional, but something’s changed, it’s something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it’s best if we move fast and keep quiet…

Starcourt Mall, June 1985

“Come on, it’s ridiculously hot outside,” your best friend, Shelly, groans as she pulls you along by the wrist. “I can’t believe they only have one ice cream place here.”

“I’m sure they have slushies at the-”

“Ice. Cream.” You know better than to argue with her.

Scoops Ahoy has a novelty nautical theme that makes you want to both laugh and break down in tears when you see it. The PA is playing a cutesy rendition of Drunken Sailor on accordion, and you think that if you keep looking at the striped wallpaper behind the counter, you might get literally seasick. In the mall. In landlocked Indiana. 

Or… is it landlocked if it fronts Lake Michigan? It doesn’t matter. You’ll be in Chicago in two days, anyways.

You let Shelly drag you along until you look towards the front counter, and you see something that nearly makes you trip and face plant into Shelly’s fresh perm.

Even Shelly pauses. “Is that who I think it is?”

It’s something about the stupid little sailor’s cap and shorts, and that he’s so, so pretty in it, you think. It’s also something about how you have the perfect vantage point to watch him try and fail to flirt with the girl that approaches the counter to order. You’re enamored with him. There’s no other way to describe it. 

You have half a mind to run away, after what you promised yourself on prom night over a month ago. You’d done good, you didn’t search for him in the halls, you ignored him in your last couple of class periods with him. You’d even been in the bathroom when his name was called at graduation. 

But, here he is. Steve Harrington, absolutely obliterating his chances of getting a date with the girl ordering a sundae ahead of you. 

Honestly, you don’t know what you’re waiting for. Maybe an invitation? A sign from god that today’s the day that you’ll make a move? Or maybe this is just a test of will.

You stop resisting Shelly’s attempts to drag you along, and straighten your spine. You can do this. Four years’ worth of pining won’t make a difference in whether or not you order a strawberry ice cream cone.

He’s even prettier up close, his rosy cheeks framed by sunkissed, wavy hair. When he sees you he stalls, going a bit wide-eyed and then seeming to realize he’s supposed to do his job. He leans heavily against the counter. “Ahoy, ladies! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain, Steve Harrington.”

“Uh-huh.” You stare at each other for a long moment. “How much do they pay you to recite that script?”

“Absolutely nothing, I do this for pure enjoyment.” You’re almost sure that he doesn’t. He pauses, a hand poised on his hip. “Too much?”

“I’d dial it back just a smidge. Maybe keep the ahoy and the captain thing and toss the rest.” 

“Noted.” He nods slowly, his eyes fixed on you. “I thought you were going to Chicago?”

“I leave the day after tomorrow,” you shrug. “Still time for me to burn the place down, you know.”

“Well, I’m glad you stopped by,” Steve chuckles. “I could show you where the gas line is, then we’d all be in trouble.”

“Oookay.” Shelly gives you a curious side-eye, and then turns back to Steve. “Well, I’ll have a U.S.S. Butterscotch with a chocolate dipped waffle bowl, if you don’t mind.”

Steve tears his eyes away from you long enough to grin at Shelly. “Coming right up. And for you?”

You freeze, glancing up at the menu. It’s written in an infuriatingly cutesy code-language that you have to decipher. “Um. I’m still deciding.”

“All right, then. Just let me know, when you’re ready.” 

Steve slips away to make Shelly her sundae, a heaping pile of ice cream and butterscotch syrup that looks like the fast track to a heart attack. You alternate between trying to comprehend the menu and being distracted by Steve in that stupid sailor’s uniform.

The script on the menu may as well be written in a foreign language. Blackbeard’s Delight. Treasure Island Turtle. U.S.S. Sherbet. The sizes are even harder to understand. Fathom. League. Nautical Mile. You don’t have the capacity to decipher it- your eyes are seeing the words, but your mind is traveling back to prom night, and feeling Steve’s finger on your cheek as you gear up to kiss him.

“Are you ready?”

“Mhm…” It takes you a second to zone back into the present moment, where Steve is standing in front of you, on the other side of the counter, waiting to take your order. He waits, with a patient smile on his face, while you blink dumbly at him.

What did you say? What did he say?

“I… um.” You’re sure you look completely out of it. Your eyes flick nervously up at the menu, that you still can’t fucking read. Shelly’s already gone to sit down with her sundae, the traitor.

“It’s kind of hard to understand, isn’t it?” Steve says quietly after a moment, dropping the phony customer service charade. “I hate it. I think we should just be able to say what our favorite ice cream flavor is and be done with it.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, still squinting up at the menu. Blackbeard’s Delight: blackberry swirl with blueberry syrup and a gold doubloon. “The fuck is a doubloon?”

Steve snorts, and reaches under the counter before bringing back a handful of gold foil-covered chocolate coins, which he dumps into your outstretched hand. “You want more? We get them wholesale.”

“I’m good,” you giggle, juggling the chocolate coins before they go cascading to the floor. “I think… I don’t… I don’t understand a thing on that menu.”

“What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?” He leans forward to ask you, like it's a secret. Just between the two of you. His head bent a little to peer at you closely, so close that you can count the freckles on his skin.

You glance over your shoulder. Shelly is seated by the far wall, under a painting of a kraken, giving you an indignant look. When she notices you looking, she mouths an emphatic, ‘LET’S GO!’

“Don’t tell anyone,” you whisper, and Steve affects his gravest expression as he nods. “Strawberry.” 

“A classic,” he grins. “Fan of sprinkles?” 

“I can dig a few sprinkles.”

“Perfect. I think we have something up your alley.” He grabs a scooper out of the bin and twirls it once, just to show off. “Sex on the Beach.” 

“What?” You don’t remember seeing anything about that on the menu.

He glances up to smirk at you before shrugging. “It’s strawberry ice cream with peach syrup. You’ll see.”

You keep an eye on his hands behind the glass partition, watching them put two scoops of strawberry into a medium sized carton. Completely unable to rein in your thoughts before they get away from you, you’re thinking about how good they would feel under your shirt. You follow a treasure map of freckles trailing up his arms, disappearing under the blue sailor’s shirt he wears. You want to kiss every single one of them.

You finally reply, “I guess I have to put my faith in your professional ice cream slinging abilities.” 

“Oh, haven’t you heard?” Steve mutters sardonically as he squirts peach syrup across the two scoops of ice cream, giving it a golden sheen. “I’m the king of cream.”

You purse your lips as it takes Steve a second to realize what he just said. When he does, he snaps his head up to meet your eye in horror. 

He opens his mouth to take it back, but you shake your head, holding back laughter. “Don’t ruin it.”

“I think it’s pretty much ruined already.” He turns crimson, blushing down at the half-made sundae as he rapidly shakes yellow sprinkles onto it. “I was doing so good, too.”

“Who says you aren’t still?” You give him a cute smile when he looks up through his lashes at you, still arranging toppings on the sundae. You’re not sure what happened between prom and now to change him so much, but it’s almost as if he’s… goofy. He’s less concerned with appearances, he’s more laid back and willing to make fun of himself. 

You like it a lot. 

You watch him plop two maraschinos onto one ice cream mound, and wedge a candied orange slice into the other, inverted, to look like a setting sun. As he passes it over the counter to you, he says, “Here you go, one Sex on the Beach. On the house.”

“What? No, I couldn’t-”

“I mean it. For overlooking my stupidity,” Steve insists. He gives you a meaningful look when he adds, “A million times over.”

“I’m not overlooking anything when it comes to you, Steve,” you tell him fondly, and drop one of the doubloons into the tip jar. It’s gaudy, gleaming artificially gold in the middle of the crumpled up dollar bills. “Hang onto that. You might be able to cash it in for a kiss someday.”

Steve blinks rapidly, leaning across the counter as you walk away. “After you come back from Chicago, right?”

You look over your shoulder, and you wink at him.

When you finally stop in front of Shelly, and you use your plastic spoon to dig into the adorable sundae that Steve crafted for you, you remember that you’d gone up to the counter with every intention of ignoring Steve and acting like you didn’t even know him.

You winked at Steve Harrington. You said you’d kiss him. You think back to the girl who was so afraid of Steve even noticing her, almost a year ago, and wonder where she went.

You look down at Shelly. She’d graduated a year before you, so she wasn’t there to witness every blunderous interaction you’d had with Steve in school. You never told her how in love you were with him.

Now, she looks up at you coyly. “So. Steve Harrington, huh?”

“Shut up,” you grunt, looking up and out at the food court outside of the Scoops Ahoy storefront. “As if you know everything.”

“Are you gonna try to make something out of that…” she gestures vaguely with her spoon toward the counter, “before school starts?” 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you say honestly, still poking at your sundae. “Anyways, I leave too soon for anything to really happen. What- I screw him tomorrow and then fuck off forever? It’s just wishful thinking, probably.” You finally take a bite of the ice cream, just to punctuate your sentence.

“Hm. Probably. How is that?” Shelly nods at the ice cream in your hand. “Looks pretty.”

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” You’re being honest. Something about the peach syrup with the strawberry base literally evokes the flavor of a sunset. “They should give him a raise.”

Humming, Shelly stands and takes her half-eaten sundae. She nudges you in the direction of the door. “C’mon. We’ve gotta eat these before the next showing of The Breakfast Club.”

Steve watches you and your friend leave, with the wistful gaze of someone who just watched their greatest opportunity walk away from them. He never knew that it was possible to hate an entire geographic location, but he really wishes Chicago would get blown off the map in the next 24 hours. 

The wooden partition doors slam open, and Robin’s head appears in the window to the kitchen. “The cream king? Do you want me to actually hurl?”

“I said, ‘the king of cream,’” he groans, digging his knuckles into his eye sockets. “Kill me, Robin. Load me into the freezer. Bury me at the fairground.”

“You think you’re valuable enough to displace that much ice cream?” Robin rolls her eyes, and with another loud thwack, her white board appears in the space behind her. “We don’t make anything called Sex on the Beach. This is a family establishment.”

“I made it up.” 

Robin coos, “Aww. Be still my heart. You love her to the point of invention.” 

Steve whirls around. “Love? Who said anything about love?” 

“I did.” Robin uncaps her dry-erase marker and draws a tally mark under the side that reads, you rule.

“Uh, Robin,” Steve snaps, pointing at the board condescendingly. “I think you put that on the wrong side. I fucked it up.”

“Dingus. Please. As much as it makes me gag- and you know I gain immense pleasure from counting how often you screw up- I could practically hear her heart eyes.” She sets the white board down, begrudgingly. “I think you found the only girl alive who’ll find all this-” she waves her hand at him, “endearing. Who was she? Some ex of yours?” 

“If only,” Steve sighs, shaking his head. When he turns back to the counter, his eyes land on the single chocolate coin glinting in the tip jar.

He scoops it up with two fingers and pockets it.

You won’t believe half the things I see inside my head. Wait ‘til you see half the things that haven’t happened yet…

Family Video, March 1986

The air conditioning nearly blasts you backwards into the parking lot. You don’t know why they need it blasting so hard at 7pm, in the middle of March. It’s not like it’s the height of summer- your spring break takes place earlier than the local school’s, but it just means that you get to beat the crowds when you come home to visit your family.

Of course, they love to send you to run errands. You end up picking up the groceries, and the housewares, and, on this occasion, the choices for family movie night. 

This Family Video’s selection isn’t necessarily as extensive as the ones in Chicago, but it’s good enough. You enter the store, and it dumps you directly in front of a cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates about to flash you. Family friendly entertainment, and all.

The TV in the corner is running the final scene of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly- Ennio Morricone’s score plays dramatically into the empty store. There’s no one behind the counter currently, so you pull the list of videos your extended family members had all requested. The Breakfast Club. Camelot. The Birds. Pretty general selections for your family, but it seems like you’ll have to hunt them up on your own. 

You’re wandering down the romance aisle, since The Breakfast Club was nowhere on the new releases or comedy shelves, when someone finally emerges from the back room. You see a flash of a head moving toward the front counter from over the top of a rack, and you take it as your chance to ask for help.

“Excuse me? Do you guys have any copies of The Breakfast Club, or-”

You stop short, choking on your words. Steve Harrington turns around to look at you, carrying a stack of VHS tapes perched under his chin, and holding a folded up piece of paper between his teeth.

You stare each other down for a second, before Steve gracefully spits the paper over his shoulder and onto the counter. “Hey, um… long time, no see?”

“I’d say.” You tilt your head. Funny how quickly your eyes will hone in on his lips, like searching for a target every time. “We always seem to run into each other like this. What happened to the ice cream gig?”

“Starcourt burned down,” Steve says, plopping the stack of VHS tapes down on the counter beside the paper he spit out. “Right around the Fourth of July, last summer.”

“So, right after I last saw you?”

Steve smirks to himself before he turns back to you. “Yeah. Like, a week or so after. Did you manage to burn the place down, after all?” 

“I wish.” 

You pause, taking the time to size him up. It’s amazing what the better part of a year will do to someone, inside and out. With a striped shirt and green vest, he looks much more relaxed and casual than he had at Scoops Ahoy. His hair’s a little longer, his eyes a little darker as they rake over you, in return. 

You’re a little bit desperate to see what’s going on in his head, if it’s anything like what’s happening in yours.

You wish you could say that you tried to seek him out when you got back to town- a year ago, maybe you would have. But you’d pretty much given up on the idea of him, moving up to dating college boys who don’t string you along, who don’t wait until the last minute to finally try their hand at flirting with you. If he ever passed through your mind, it was with the attached hope that he’d found greener pastures than Hawkins, Indiana. Foolishly, you hoped that as long as you told yourself that he’d moved on, it would be true. And then maybe what could have been wouldn’t matter anymore.

You’d stepped back into Hawkins after half a year of college, the graveyard of all hope in your happily ever after, and you hadn’t even thought of Steve Harrington. Except, seeing him now, everything comes flooding back. All the days spent pining over him. All the close brushes you’d had with finally getting the ending you wanted. 

You have to be honest. “You look good, Steve. You always do.”

Steve chuckles, tilting his chin down as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his light wash jeans. “Better without the sailor costume, right?”

“Aww, I liked the sailor costume.” You step closer so you can whisper, “I thought it was sexy.”

Steve peers down his nose at you, drawing himself up to tower above you at his full height. He tries to look unaffected, but you can see his ears glowing pink beneath wisps of golden highlights. “Watch it. You’re gonna give me an ego.”

“We don’t want that, do we?” You unfold the list of movies you’re here to collect, holding it up to him between two fingers. “Got any of these movies?” 

Steve reads the short list, and nods to himself. “I know we have Camelot, but I’m not sure about The Breakfast Club. Let me check in the back?” 

“I’ll be here.”

“All right- don’t get up to any trouble, though. I’ve got my eye on you.” He points at you coolly, feigning an authoritative expression. He tries to hide his smile, but the creases around his eyes give him away. 

“I hope you do.” You try to appear casual as you breeze past him, but you have to fiddle with your jacket collar to hide their shaking. Still, you feel the sweep of his gaze on you like rays of sun on your skin. It frightens you how easily you can fall back into the old back-and-forth routine you established in high school- how he gets you to say things you never meant to voice, but that live in your head effortlessly. 

Steve watches you disappear down the drama aisle before he takes in a huge breath of air and bolts toward the back room. Any and all coolness he was performing disappears like so much smoke. Slamming open the door, he nearly shouts, “Do you have a doubloon?!” 

Robin startles, swinging around in her seat, looking away from her computer screen. “A what? Why are you yelling?”

“A doubloon, a f-fucking-” Steve looks quickly over his shoulder, out the door, and starts hunching over as he whispers, “a chocolate coin. Like one of those ones we had at Scoops, remember?”

“Why do you want a chocolate coin?” Robin squints at him. “Stop crouching like that, you look like Nosferatu.”

Steve hisses through his teeth, and he’s got a frantic edge to his expression that Robin doesn’t like. “Okay- remember that girl, the one who showed up at Scoops that time, and you gave me my one and only ‘You Rule’ tally?” 

“No.”

“Great. Well, she’s here, and she told me if I gave her one of those chocolate coins she’d kiss me.” Steve shoves his hands through his hair, mussing up the already disheveled style. “Please, Rob, I can’t let her get away again. I’ve done it, like, a thousand times already.” 

“Okay, Romeo,” Robin humors him, turning around in her seat. “So you’re saying this babe, who I very much don’t remember because you always struck out while we worked at Scoops, told you that if you bribed her with chocolate she’d kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t think she was maybe joking?” 

Steve opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. Truthfully, he hadn’t. He’d overlooked the idea that, after everything that had happened between you, you might just be joking about kissing him. 

“You know you could use your actual charm to get a girl to kiss you?” Robin dips her chin, shaking her head like it’s obvious.

Steve frowns. As if he hasn’t already tried that. “Do you have any chocolate coins or not?”

Robin sighs exasperatedly. “I don’t think I’ve seen one of those things since we worked at Scoops. Sorry, bud. You’re out of luck.” 

“FUCK!” Steve’s hand smacks the door as he heads out of the back room, making Robin scowl after him. She shakes her head as she turns back to her work.

Back out on the sales floor, the credits to The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly have finished, and white noise fills the empty space. Steve turns in a circle by the checkout counter, searching for you among the aisles.

Where did you disappear to, this time? A part of him dreads the answer. He was the one who fucked everything up- he shouldn’t have chickened out when he had the chance. He should have asked you to that fucking prom, but he was too scared to commit after what happened with Nancy. 

If this is his last chance, he needs to make it count. 

He coughs into the dead air, and says, “Looks like we’re all out of The Breakfast Club.” There’s a disconcerting amount of silence that leaves him cold, almost certain that you’ve left already, for the last time.

Then, you appear from behind the red curtain to the adult videos section.

Oh.  

“Everything okay?” you ask sweetly as you approach, holding a couple tapes that you must have picked up while you shopped around. “I heard some yelling back there.” 

“Oh, yeah. Just, uh… shelving issues.” Steve backs his way behind the counter. He repeats, “Sorry, I couldn’t find the movie for you.”

“I heard. I’m not worried about it.” You plop the tapes that you did find on the counter. “It was nice of you to look for me. Thanks, Steve.”

“Always.” Steve starts scanning your tapes; it looks like you managed to find the other films on your list, along with one for yourself. From the adult section. 

You watch in amusement as you can see the cogs visibly turning in Steve’s head, while he stares at the front of the porn video you picked. Spring Break Sex Party II. Not that you’d ever seen the first one, but the cover of this one was suggestive enough- a bunch of drunk people naked on a beach, lying in a great big pile. Looks like fun, in your opinion.

You always love seeing Steve blush. The prettiest shade of pink colors his cheeks before he glances up at you. “Should I ask…?”

“It’s the closest thing to getting a Sex on the Beach, here.” 

Steve chokes, and he scrambles for a response to that. “I- I was gonna ask for an I.D.”

“You know we’re the same age,” you deadpan.

“Y-yeah. I, uh- I know… I know that.” He hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes tightly shut.

You wonder if this is what you looked like to him, that time in the hallway when he loitered by the fountain to talk to you. “Breathe, Steve.”

A blast of laughter leaves his mouth before he can swallow it. If only you knew how hard it actually is, to act like he’s not just fucking melting right in front of you. When he hangs on every word you say, and every other thought he has is about how badly he wants to tell Robin to get lost and take you in the back room. You don’t know how much he’s fixating on your curves and how they’d feel against him, how much he wants to taste every inch of your body. He’s practically vibrating in place with all his pent up frustration, and you’re here buying porn, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Steve clears his throat, shakes his head. Christ. “Okay, well. You know that this is a sale item, it’s not for rent. You can return it within 10 days as long as the packaging hasn’t been opened.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” He’s still nodding as he puts it into the bag with the rest of your rentals. 

“Are you always this affected by people buying from the adult section?” you ask mildly. 

“Nah, usually I don’t care,” he replies without thinking. 

“Good to know that you care about my taste in pornography,” you tell him with the most shit eating grin on your face, taking the bag from him. “I’m flattered.”

He makes a clumsy noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. He’s right back to working at Scoops Ahoy, fumbling every attempt at flirting, losing his cool at the sight of a pretty girl. It’s… humbling.

He’s sure Robin would say that he can always use more humility.

“It was good to see you again, Steve.” And just like that, you’re sand slipping through the cracks in his fingers. 

Desperately, he tries to block the flow, closing his fingers around you in an attempt to keep you in his grasp. “Do you- uh-” He lurches forward, white-knuckling the counter like his life depends on it. You turn back towards him, an eyebrow raised at his sudden outburst. 

You’re back in the school hallway, senior year. Crying over Logan Sawyer. Harrington is up against the wall by the drinking fountain. You want him to just say the words and ask you to prom.

“I mean… if you have the time, while you’re in town… do you want to go for a cup of coffee? With me?”

“Oh, Steve.” You sigh, and it’s the most heartbreaking noise he’s ever heard in his life. Soft sand, falling through his fingers, disappearing back the way you came. He already dreads your answer before it comes. “I wish… you know, if I had come in here and met you about a week ago, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. But I have to catch the train back to Chicago tomorrow. My break’s almost up.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “I’m just glad that you didn’t completely miss me, at least.”

“Right, of course.” Steve smiles back at you, feeling more like an idiot the longer this drags on. He’s like Sisyphus rolling that rock up the fucking hill. “I… I’m glad I got to see you, too. Maybe next time.” 

Oh, it hurts. It hurts way more than you thought it would, to have to turn Steve down- after all the years pining for him through high school, after the time you turned him away when he would have kissed you. You think about kissing him, now. He would let you do it- he’s asking you out, and he looks so sad that you’re saying no.

You could. But wouldn’t it make saying goodbye this time even harder than it already is?

“Yeah. Maybe next time,” you tell him. You don’t want this to hurt more than it does. You truly hope there’s a next time, another year down the line when you run into him over winter break. Maybe you’ll find him at the Radio Shack. 

Steve watches you leave, once again. Fumbling his chance, again. When the door swings shut behind you, Steve bends at the waist and drops his head against the countertop. 

Typical Harrington. Late to the party, miss the girl.

“Well. That was… really painful to listen to.” Robin emerges from behind one of the shelves, crossing her arms. Gently, she adds, “On the bright side, I don’t think the chocolate coin would have mattered.”

Steve picks his head up, and he thwacks his forehead back down onto the counter.

And again.

And again.

And I can see you being my addiction, you can see me as a secret mission. Hide away, and I will start behaving myself…

Sur La Table Restaurant, Chicago, April 1991

You shake your umbrella out as you step into the warm foyer of, quite possibly, the most upscale restaurant you’ve ever set foot in. The carpet is deep, blood red, the walls a dark chestnut wood. The white covered tables are each spotlit within the otherwise dark dining room, and the atmosphere is flavored by soft piano and the quiet din of hushed voices. 

You had been hesitant to accept Theo’s invitation to dinner- he seemed too stuck up for your taste, but when Shelly introduced you to him, you had to admit that the name of the restaurant piqued your interest. Sur La Table. Chicago’s premiere Michelin Star restaurant. 

As you hand your umbrella over to the coat check clerk, you’re greeted by a smiling hostess. “What’s the name for the reservation?”

“Um… Theo Bowman. I believe he’s already here?”

“Yes, ma’am. Right this way.” 

Theo stands as you’re shown to the table. Tall, with dark hair and a wide smile, he reminds you of someone you knew once, but you just can’t seem to place it. Then, when he towers over you to shake your hand, standing far closer than necessary, you’re able to pick it out from the recesses of your mind.

Logan Sawyer.  

“You look nice,” Theo says pleasantly, and you chalk up your initial comparison to nerves, on your part. You don’t often let friends set you up on dates, so you’re a little bit out of your element as it is.

As you go to sit down, you admit, “I was so glad when you picked this place, I’ve always wanted to eat here, since I moved to Chicago.” 

“It’s not the nicest place I’ve been,” Theo shrugs, taking the seat across from you.

Your smile falters, for a second. “Oh, no?” The water has already been brought to the table, you guess while he was waiting for you. You take a long drink.

“Nah, I’ve been to Le Bernardin, in New York. That’s fine dining.” Theo waves his hand at the upscale dining room. “This is… okay.”

“I see.” You lift your menu, hoping that he’ll do the same.

“Yeah, New York is so much nicer than Chicago, in my opinion,” Theo continues, fiddling with his napkin as he talks. “There’s a lot more to do. Have you ever been?”

You hope this is just his nerves talking. “No.” 

Theo keeps talking as you stare at the menu in front of you, at a loss. It’s an a la carte menu, clearly, but extensive and all in french. Salade de poires pochées. Coquilles Saint-Jacques Gratineés. Filet au poivre vert. You’re scrutinizing the fine print of what all the dishes include when your waiter steps up to the table. You know when it happens, because Theo finally stops blathering about New York. 

You break your eyes away from the menu to glance at the server’s waistline, at eye level with you. He wears a crisply pressed suit and tie, his hands clasped in front of his belt. 

“Good evening sir, ma’am,” the server says in a hushed tone, to keep the volume of the dining room down. “Welcome to Sur La Table. I’m Steven, I’ll be serving you this evening. Before we begin, are there any questions about the menu?”

You peer up into the darkness to try to see Steven’s face. He’s standing just outside of the spotlight over the table, only able to be dimly lit from the indirect light reflecting from the tablecloth. Once your eyes adjust, they lock onto a pair of familiar hazel ones.

Oh my fucking god.

It’s got to be fate, or kismet, or some force of nature that keeps bringing you together like this. Steve Harrington’s face hasn’t changed in five years. Maybe he looks just slightly older, a little more filled out in his suit and tie. His hair is a bit shorter at the back but still that same shade of golden brown, neatly groomed and tidy for the formal atmosphere- but you can see it being tousled on his off days, still flopping across his eyes in waves. And those are the same lips you dreamt about kissing, the same eyes you admired in the school hallway, the same nose that you always wanted to grind o-

“No, I think we’re ready to order,” Theo announces, louder than necessary. You throw your gaze at him, your eyebrows raising despite your best efforts to remain calm. 

Is he really going to order for you? Just like that?

“Well, I was going to ask-” you begin, wanting to get a little more specification on how the filet is made, when Theo cuts you off.

“It’s okay, I speak French,” he insists. Not that it makes a difference to what your question was.

You press your lips together in irritation and glance at Steve, who looks back at you stoically. You wonder if he recognizes you like you do him- it’s been long enough, and you’re sure that you look a bit different than you did the last time you saw him. And then you notice the creases around his eyes.

He’s playing it off well enough, sure. But Steve is doing that same look that he did there in the Family Video five years ago, trying to pretend that he’s not affected by you, swallowing back his smile. He sends you a knowing look that says, What a fucking douchebag, am I right?

Suddenly, this date just got way more entertaining. You give Steve a minute roll of your eyes, only enough for him to notice. Tell me about it.

“We’ll start with the Bordeaux,” Theo is already reciting to Steve as you settle back in your seat. Steve pulls a little notepad out of his jacket pocket and begins writing. “For an appetizer, the coquilles. Then for the main, I’ll have the canard montmorency, and she’ll have the mignons de veau.” 

You watch Steve’s hand pause as he’s writing, and he looks to you. He raises his eyebrow, saying everything he needs to with the one gesture. Is that what you really want? “The veal?”

“No,” you say, digging your thumbnail into your palm, where it rests on your lap. “Actually, I wanted to ask about the filet. What brandy is the sauce made with?” 

Steve smiles, leaning a little bit closer to you. “We use Courvoisier.”

“Great. I’ll have that, please.” 

Steve nods encouragingly at you. As he jots down the order, he says, “Wonderful. I’ll get this to the kitchen for you, but before I can bring you the wine, I’ll just need to see the lady’s I.D.”

“Are you serious?” Theo snaps. 

“It’s all right,” you murmur, hiding your face as you dip your head to fish your I.D. out of your clutch. “He’s just doing his job. Right, Steven?”

Steve meets your eye as he takes the card from your hand. “You can never be too careful.” You watch him smirk as he looks over your I.D., his eyes lingering on your name for a second before he hands it back to you. If there was any doubt in his mind that you are who he thought, it’s gone now. “Interesting. We’re the same age.”

You laugh. Probably a little louder than is respectable, but you can’t help it. Leave it to Steve Harrington to remind you of the time you bought porn from him, while you’re on a date. 

You watch Steve write something else on his notepad, and rip the page out before folding it up. He tucks his notepad into his pocket as he says, “I’ll get this started for you. I hope you enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you, Steven,” you offer just as he starts to walk away. 

Steve shoots you a sideways glance. “Always.”

Your heartbeat pounds in your chest as you turn back to your date. Theo looks disgruntled, but he just lifts his water to his lips.

“So,” you begin, “what do you do?”

“Marketing manager,” Theo says, with a click of his tongue. “For Bowman Wine & Spirits.”

“Oh,” you nod. “No relation, I suppose?”

“My father owns the company.”

“Right.” God, help me. 

Across the dining room, Steve watches you over his shoulder. His jaw sets as he sees you, the girl of his literal dreams, sitting across from some idiot who doesn’t even know that you don’t order for your date without asking her what she wants first, you fucking weasel. 

That’s all right. You seem to have the situation under control, for now. Steve watches you calmly sip your water, staring at your date but not listening to a thing he’s saying. 

Steve sighs. He’s never been much of a schemer, but he’ll just make sure that you won’t leave with this guy if you don’t want to.

His fingers brush the note in his pocket, and he pinches it just as he passes the front of house manager, Taryn. Without breaking stride, he slips the note into her hand, heading toward the back hallway and down to the wine cellar.

As Steve passes by, Taryn unfolds the note he slips her, and raises one eyebrow at the request he’s written.

I can see you in your suit and your necktie, pass me a note saying, “Meet me tonight.” Then we kissed and you know I won’t ever tell…

Overall, you enjoy Sur La Table immensely. The restaurant itself, anyways. The wine is wonderful. The atmosphere is great. The food is exquisite. 

You’re about to jump the waiter’s bones. 

Theo got his second wind sometime after the scallops arrived, and you think he hasn’t paused for breath since. You’ve been calmly eating your food, while Theo tells you literally everything about himself. It’s the best case scenario you can see happening on this date. You enjoy the food, mumble a non-committal acknowledgement now and then, and Theo entertains himself with his own voice the rest of the time. 

You’re gonna kill Shelly for setting you up with him, but that’s tomorrow’s problem. 

Right now, you’re focused on finishing your glass of wine while he talks about camping, of all things. 

“So we got up into the Rockies,” he’s telling you, gesturing with his hands like it’ll make you more engaged. “We ended up freezing our keisters off. No joke, I have frostbite scars.”

“That’s, um… that sounds like fun.”

“No, are you listening? I mean, it was terrible. We couldn’t move for, like, two days. And when the snow stopped we were so tired and cold, we almost died.”  

You knock back the rest of your wine with one gulp, and say with a sticky voice, “Wow. A near death experience must have been really scary, I’m sorry.”

Theo frowns. “No- I mean… It wasn’t… it wasn’t near death-”

“You just said-”

“It was more like a serious inconvenience, you know. But we pulled through. I wasn’t scared. A little snow isn’t gonna kill me,” he laughs incredulously. “It was just-”

Theo stops as Steve approaches the table. You catch him giving the back of Theo’s head the most murderous look imaginable before slowing to a stop and plastering an easy customer service smile in its place. “How did you find everything this evening?”

“It was fine.”

“The food was wonderful,” you tell Steve reassuringly. Your date, on the other hand…

“Yeeeah, could we get the check, please?” Theo asks, finally looking up at Steve. 

You watch Steve’s brow twitch, such a small movement you could have imagined it. “Certainly. But first-” from behind his back, he reveals two white gift boxes and places them on the table in front of you and your date, respectively. “We like to give each of our customers a signature chocolate truffle, as a token of our appreciation.”

Everything in you aches. “Oh, that’s nice. Thank you so much.” You look down at the box in adoration, thinking for a second that it might be the only time in your life that Steve Harrington gives you something similar to a ring box. 

“I’ll be sure to have our hostess come through with the check,” Steve adds delicately, making a gracious exit. His finger just slightly brushes your arm as he passes by- a dangerous move, but one that nearly electrifies your entire body at the single touch. You shiver as he says, “Have a lovely night.”

You watch Steve walk away from you, and your heart sinks into your stomach. You want to chase after him. The 18 year old you, who almost kissed him on prom night, is trying to claw its way out of your skin and bolt after him. 

When Steve disappears from view, you have nowhere to look but at your date. Theo opens the white box in front of him and pops a neapolitan colored truffle into his mouth. “Well, that was underwhelming.”

You don’t want to watch him chewing anymore, like a cow gnawing on grass. You sigh, running a frustrated hand across your forehead, and flip open the box in front of you. The top of it rears up like a clam shell, and you freeze, your fingertips suddenly sticking to the sweat beading on your brow.

You don’t have a neapolitan truffle- you have a single golden chocolate coin. You stare at it in shock for a second before you even notice the note pasted to the lid of the box. 

Meet me outside- the door past the bathrooms. 

“Aren’t you gonna eat yours?” Theo asks suddenly, as the hostess approaches holding the check. 

Your eyes snap up just as your heart shoots back up into your chest. “I think I’m gonna save it for later.” You flash him a smile as you close the box swiftly and shove it into your clutch. “Do you mind if I hit the bathroom real quick?”

“No, go ahead. I’ve got it.” Honestly, it’s the kindest thing he’s done for you all night. You might have to thank him some day. 

Once you’re out of your seat, you chase after Steve like a shot. Around a block of tables and into a tiled corridor, you walk past the kitchen doorway just as another server comes backing out, carrying a tray of dishes. 

There’s a door at the end of the hall, labeled exit. You never actually thought you’d be escaping a bad date through the back door; the notion was too clichéed, you thought that sort of thing only happened in movies. But you find yourself nearly running past the men’s and women’s bathrooms, until your hands slam down on the bar of the back door and thrust it open into the wind. 

The rain has picked up, more of a downpour than a light drizzle now. In your haste, you’d left your umbrella and coat with the coat check. Not that it would have been at all discrete if you’d gone to collect it before running towards the bathrooms. 

The door clicks shut behind you, and you gaze around in the dark. The alley behind the restaurant is only partially lit by a yellow street lamp, making it even more difficult to find him than it was in the dining room. “Steve?”  

You catch movement in the corner of your eye, and turn in the direction of the street lamp. Steve stands up from where he’d been sitting on an overturned crate- apparently the only accommodations the restaurant staff gets during a smoke break. The rain has already soaked into his hair, messing up the tidy style and turning it stringy, falling across his forehead, shining gold in the yellow light. He takes one last puff of the cigarette in his mouth before tossing it into the gutter, and he looks at you. 

He sees you. And it’s all you’ve wanted since the day he first walked into your geography class, freshman year of high school. There’s been some kind of a magnetic pull between you two for years. Something keeps bringing you together, it’s just never been the right time. Until now. 

Finally, you’re running towards him, and Steve’s arms finally come around you, pulling you against his body. Your hands find the back of his neck just in time for his lips to crash against yours. 

You had lost count of the amount of times you watched him kiss other girls in the hallway in high school- not just Nancy, but any and every girl he attached himself to (for a while, it seemed like he couldn’t make up his mind who he was dating at any given moment). All you knew was that it was never you, and you wanted it to be so desperately that it consumed your mind half the time. He looked like a good kisser, and you fantasized about going up to him and testing that theory for yourself.

But you never expected that his lips would slide over yours with an urgency that you could feel through to your very core, probably even more desperate for your kiss than you are for his. Steve’s fingertips press into your body through the thin fabric of your dress, holding you firmly to him like he’s afraid you might disappear on him again if he doesn’t absorb you completely. Your mouth opens with a soft gasp, and Steve’s tongue against yours tastes like tobacco. 

It happens so fast that you can’t even think- and you don’t really want to. You’re tired of thinking everything through, finding reasons upon reasons why it’s not a good time, why it’s a bad idea, why it won’t work. He moans into you, grabbing the side of your face as he stumbles with you to the wall, pressing you up against the side of the brick building. 

You meet his moan with a whimper of your own as his hand slides down over the curve of your ass, and he hikes up the skirt of your dress to grab at your skin with abandon. There’s a ferocity in Steve’s kiss that you don’t know what to do with, like he’s trying to stake a claim to you right there in the rain, with no one around to see it happen but the moths in the street light overhead. Not that he needs to- he’s already got you. You already chose him. 

Steve gives you room to breathe with a soft sigh, his forehead resting against yours. “Been wanting to do that since high school,” he admits, just loud enough for you to hear, before pressing a featherlight kiss just beside your mouth, and again to your cheek.

“Y-you fffucking-?” you gasp when he latches his lips around a sweet spot on your neck and sucks. “I had such a huge crush on you, Steve.”

“I know. I- I should have- I should…” Steve drops his head against your shoulder and groans when your nails rake against his scalp. “Fuck.”  

He grinds his hips up against yours, biting your lip as the hard length of his cock presses up against your core. “Gonna fuck me in this alleyway, Harrington?” 

“I’m seriously considering it,” he growls into your ear. His lips find yours again with a passion, his hand holding your jaw still. A hot breath escapes him, pouring over your skin and making you shiver. You’re lightheaded, so close to just letting him do it, too, when the back door of the restaurant swings open. 

Steve still takes a second to pull away, a little too absorbed in kissing you to really care who sees him do it. If he had his way, he’d have everyone see that you’re his- that you belong with him, and have for a long time. He finally glances over his shoulder to see one of the cooks, Liam, walking off in the direction of the employee parking lot.

“Where did you get the fucking doubloon?” you whisper into his ear, sounding so fucking adorable that Steve can’t help the lovesick look he gives you. 

He brushes his nose against yours. “I sent my manager on a treasure hunt.” You giggle, pressing your forehead up against his, and he can’t help but chuckle along with you. “I wanted to give you one at Family Video, that time.”

“I know,” you say, and he pulls back to look at your face. “I heard you yelling at your coworker in the back room.” 

Steve snickers and turns red with embarrassment, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You run your fingers through his rain-soaked hair, a content smile on your face as you feel him grin against your skin and shake with laughter. “Take me home, Steve.”

You don’t have to ask him twice.

What would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you throw your jacket on the floor, I can see you make me want you even more…

The drive to Steve’s apartment downtown is made with light conversation and the heavy, heavy weight of his hand on your thigh, creeping up further with each mile. But aside from the implication of sex hanging in the air, it’s as easy as breathing, chatting about the night with him. Shitting on Theo.

“Did you notice the way he said coquilles,” Steve murmurs to you at a red light. “I thought he was gagging on something. He was just trying to impress you, you know.”

You grunt. Could’ve tried a little harder. “He didn’t even like them. He said he didn’t like shellfish,” you laugh in return as you lace your fingers through Steve’s. “Why the fuck would you order scallops, then?”

“The price.”

“The price.”  

It’s sweet, talking to him all the way to his apartment building, just catching up like old friends. He tells you that he’s going to culinary school now, and he’s been working at the restaurant for a little over a year, just to pay the bills.

“Culinary school? Really?” you say, with a note of awe in your voice. 

“Turns out I’m really fucking good at cooking,” Steve chuckles. “Who’d have thought? Maybe someday I’ll stop waiting tables and work back there in the kitchen.”

“I can see it,” you tell him softly. “I can see you being the world’s best chef. Three stars and everything.”

He scoffs, but a pink blush creeps up the back of his neck. “You have too much faith in me.” 

“Those are fighting words, Harrington.” You wag your finger at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?”

“You just want me to cook you something,” Steve tuts.

“Absolutely, I do.” You consider him for a moment, in the passing light of a streetlamp. “Am I that transparent?”

Steve tilts his head to eye you meaningfully, and he smirks. “Always have been, honey.” His thumb rubs a little circle on your thigh that has you squirming in your seat.

The first thing you see of Steve’s apartment is the kitchen, and beyond that the dormant living room, but you don’t get that far before you’re sidetracked. Steve throws his keys onto a drop station by the door, and pins you up against the refrigerator before you can even think to ask where to put your shoes.

Your clothes are still damp, your hair still pasted to your clammy skin. Steve’s lips are attacking yours and his hands are grabbing at everything he can touch, but it’s still not enough. He’s not able to feel all of you at once, and it’s driving him insane with every passing moment.

Steve roughly yanks his suit jacket off, throwing it onto the tile floor beside the kitchen island. “Lay down.” 

“What?” you whisper to him as he kisses your neck, guiding you away from the side of the fridge. “Here?” 

“Right here,” Steve states, not joking in the slightest. You wobble on your feet as you kick off your heels, but his hands on your hips keep you steady. “Been waiting too long for this- can’t wait anymore.”

“I- wwhuh-?” you gasp as Steve kneels in front of you, and your knees buckle involuntarily as he lays you down across his discarded jacket. Your hands grab his shoulders as you tumble backward, taking him with you. 

He face-plants into your stomach with a noisy, “Oof.” Cackling, you run your fingers through his damp hair, as he laughs and shoves his blushing face further against your torso. Steve litters your stomach with kisses, giggling against you with a note of nervous energy. He’s adorable.

You pet your fingers down the side of his face and he leans into the touch. “Can’t even wait long enough to take me to the bedroom?”

“Well, I would have fucked you in the alley,” Steve points out as his fingers breach the hem of your skirt and find your panties. He tugs as he says, “Be thankful I even got you home.” 

Your cheeks burn hot. You fidget, trying to press your thighs together to abate the throbbing ache between them. “Careful, baby. You’re starting to sound desperate.”

Steve pauses, his hazel eyes lighting up when they lock on yours. “Call me that again,” he requests, pressing a kiss to your ankle as he pulls your panties off your feet. He tosses them over his shoulder, but you don’t see where they land as he continues peppering kisses down your calf.

You hold his gaze. “Baby?” His eyes flutter, his lips parting as they drag up toward your knee. “You like when I call you that?”

“I like when you call me anything,” Steve admits. “But as long as you call me that, it means I’m yours.”

Your breath stutters in your chest. Steve Harrington is yours. It doesn’t matter if it’s just for tonight- what matters is that you have him now, and he wants you just as badly.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he murmurs quietly against your skin, his voice crackling with brimming need. He’s flushed, his cheeks pink and his hair drying in tousled waves over his forehead the longer he drags this out. 

Nodding your head, you reach down to lace your fingers through his, where they’re bunching your skirt up around your hips. “Yes, Steve.” Always have been.  

He turns his head and sucks a spot on your calf, just below your knee, resting your ankle over his shoulder. Still, despite your desperation, you nervously keep your thighs pinched together.

Steve tuts, “C’mon, baby, you’ve gotta spread your legs for me. You wanna let me see that pretty pussy, right?” 

Still clammy and cold with rain, the air on your exposed skin makes you shiver almost as much as his sweeping hands do when they gently part your thighs. You let go, let him take control as you still and keep your eyes focused on his face, because looking anywhere else would remind you that this is real, and not a dream.

Steve sighs, “There she is. Y’gonna let me taste you, sweetheart?” He bats his pretty eyes at you in a way that makes your heart stop dead in your chest. He can’t keep his mouth off of you, even for a moment, his lips and slight stubble dragging across your skin as he says, “Been wanting to forever, you won’t even believe-”

“Please, Steve,” you start to beg before he even finishes his sentence. “Please, my god, I- I just- I just want you so much-”

“Sh-sh-sh-shh.” His tongue licks wet and hot against your inner thigh before he whispers, “I’ve got you, baby. M’not going anywhere, I’m staying right here ‘til you cum.”

You’re instantly hot all over, your blood fucking boiling beneath your skin and your wet dinner dress. Steve’s fingers dig into the meat of your thighs as he yanks you toward his face, the fabric of his jacket beneath you audibly zipping along the kitchen floor. 

Steve dips his head, and his mouth closes over your cunt right at the same moment that yours falls open with a moan that won’t come out, because you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe. The noise stalls right at the beginning- your lungs stop working and you can’t seem to get them to start again, because Steve’s tongue is everywhere, dripping wet and gentle on skin that’s way too sensitive to handle it right now. Your hips try to jerk away from him in resistance, but he slams his hand down on them, holding you hard and still against the tile floor, his shoulders pushed up against the backs of your thighs to keep them open. 

Steve takes a break just long enough to grin evilly up at you, because he’s been waiting for five years to tell you to, “Breathe, sweetheart.”

“Fffffuck,” you manage to spit out finally, your voice cracking on the word like it didn’t even really want to put in the work to make it happen. Your breath comes back into your lungs all at once, rapid firing with a dozen moans for punctuation. Steve’s lips quirk against you, and he rumbles a noise of satisfaction against your pussy that makes you jolt in his hold again. “Steve…”

He pulls off of you with a slow, slow stroke of his tongue over your clit, making you whimper high and tight in your throat. “That’s it, baby,” Steve whispers, his breath fanning across your slick cunt, his left hand leaving your hip so that he can drag his knuckles teasingly through your swollen folds. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels so right.”

Two long fingers sink into you with ease, stirring the need in you to have him just simply destroy you. You moan loud, your hand shooting out and wrapping around the leg of a bar stool for the kitchen island beside you. 

“Poor thing’s just so sensitive, huh?” Your head arches backwards against the floor, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers as he curves them with practiced accuracy. Steve’s voice is a deep murmur, distant thunder rolling over your nerves, “Relax for me, honey. You’ve waited long enough, just let it happen. Let me give you what you want.”

His lips shine when you look down at him, your hand reaching to run through his hair. Stifling a whine that threatens to come out when he kisses your clit and bends his fingers within you, you stutter out, “J-just want… I- ha-ah! Just want you.”  

Steve purrs. “I know.” The crisp white fabric of his shirt scrapes against your thighs, almost rough in comparison to his tongue flat on your pussy. You can hear the wet, salacious sound of his fingers pumping into you, pulling you toward the edge of oblivion. He hisses through his teeth, shaking his head slightly. “God, I’m so fuckin’ lucky.”

“Y-you-?” you manage a laugh, scraping your nails along his scalp lightly. “You’re lucky? You have n-no… fffucking idea-” You cut off with a sob when Steve wraps his lips around your clit, sucking long and hard enough that your leg twitches, your heel dragging up the back of his pristine white blouse. Your breathing picks up just as all your muscles lock down tight. “Jesus Christ-”  

“There you go,” Steve praises as your orgasm shakes your body, your hand gripping his hair so hard that he groans softly into your damp skin. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers, lewd wet noises picking up and echoing through the quiet kitchen. “That’s a good girl. Mmm , felt so nice to let go, didn’t it?”

You don’t know if he really wants you to answer that- you’re still twitching, coming down from your high as he pulls his fingers from your spasming cunt and sucks them into his mouth. The pause gives you a gentle reprieve, sinking back onto his suit jacket beneath you. Then, his mouth finds your pussy again, his tongue delving deep into your entrance and laving up to your sensitive clit. 

You gasp, throwing your hands down into his hair. “Steve-?!”

He moans in response. “Just needed to taste you some more, honey. Taste so fuckin’ sweet, I can’t get enough.” Steve relents, crawling up your body to hover his face over yours. “Still wanna see the bedroom?”

You nod excitedly, your hands finding his smiling face and stroking the hair away from his eyes. With a gentle kiss of his wet lips to yours, Steve gathers your still-wrecked body into his arms and carries you into his bedroom. 

He’s struck by how blissful you are as he sets you down on his bed, so soft and inviting. He encourages your arms up, his hands finding the zipper of your wet dress and finally, finally, pulling it over your head so that he can see you. All your curves and edges on display for him, after all this time imagining what he couldn’t see with the naked eye. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve repeats what he told you all those years ago at prom- he meant it then, and he means it now. Maybe even more this time, now that he’s not a stupid teenager, now that he finally has his head on his shoulders. 

You shiver against him when he unclips your bra- black lace that matches the underwear sitting in his entryway. A possessive part of him rears up, knowing that you’d worn them to a date with some asshole who couldn’t treat you right, even for one hour of the guy’s miserable life. Steve dips his head and kisses your breast, so much softer now than he was before, feeling your heartbeat against his lips.

“Hey.” You gently tug him by his tie, loosening it and his collar. You look into his eyes, and his heart melts. “Where’d you go just now, sailor?”

Steve blushes, his eyes flicking down as you remove his tie and start unbuttoning his blouse. “Just thinking...” he trails off, eyeing you thoughtfully. “Just thinking I could have missed you again if I wasn’t careful.”

“Mmm,” you hum, your hands smoothing up his chest and over his shoulders to get his shirt off of him. It drops to the floor with a whisper. “I don’t think so. I think this was meant to happen, eventually.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You scrunch your nose cutely, in a way that makes Steve’s pants tighten even more uncomfortably across his hips. “We’ve run into each other too many fuckin’ times, baby. Karma’s on our side.”

He laughs. “Karma.” He shakes his head as he undoes his belt.

You quirk your brow at him as your hands fiddle with the fly of his suit pants. “Don’t believe me?” 

Steve grunts, shifting to lean over you. “I’ll believe anything you say when you’re taking my pants off, honey. I’m easy that way.”

Your nails rake through the hair on his chest- you can’t keep your hands off of him now that they’ve got him. You trace over two blotchy scars, one on either side of his torso that mirror each other. “What happened here?”

He blows a puff of air out of his mouth, rounding his cheeks as he shrugs. “Some… animals decided I looked really tasty, at one point. I know, they aren’t very pretty.”

Steve’s brushing over it like it’s nothing. You search his face, and you decide to do the same. “Actually, I think it’s kind of hot.” You drag your hand up to lay flat over his chest. You whisper conspiratorially, “Plus, I think you look really tasty, too.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Y’gonna bite me about it?”

“Probably.” You wink. “Most likely.”

Your gaze falls indiscreetly to his cock, hard and flushed, glistening with precum and curving up toward his stomach. Girls talk, especially when they’re all trying to one-up each other; you knew that he was big. You’d heard the rumors. You’d seen him wearing those tight fucking jeans all the time, and you didn’t have to have much of an imagination to figure it out.

Still. It’s… a little overwhelming. You reach out a tentative hand, lightly wrapping your fingers around his base. They barely meet. Jesus Christ.

He groans, and kisses you until you can’t speak, resting his weight on top of you until you sink gleefully into the mattress. There’s a smile on your lips that transfers onto his, happiness and ease still flowing between you even as he grinds his hips up against yours. 

“Ready?” Steve murmurs softly into your mouth, stealing your breath when you feel his cock slide through your folds, hot and fat.  

“Dunno,” you tell him teasingly, but there’s an edge of reason to your words. Your hips squirm and you feel him even worse, slippery with your arousal. You whine. “I think you might kill me with that thing, Harrington.”

“I’ll go slow,” he whispers, hoarse in the back of his throat, his voice already shaking. “I’ll make sure you feel every bit of it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree as you reach to line him up properly. “I’m all yours.”

Steve gives a relieved sigh as he slides into you, his head falling heavily to your shoulder. His cock aches, his torso shaking as he tries to steady himself. “Oh my god.”

“Baby,” you coo, choking on a moan when he bottoms out. He’s so thick- your nails dig into his shoulder blades as you try to remember how to breathe. It’s certainly a big stretch to try to fit him, but you can’t help wanting more just as soon as he comes to a stop. You can feel him trying to hold steady, holding himself back as though it’s the hardest thing in the world for him to do. 

Because it is. You can’t see it, the way that his brow is furrowed in concentration, his eyes screwed shut. He didn’t know it would be like this- that he’d be in danger of blowing it just as soon as he started. 

Your heel digs into his ass, and he doesn’t know if you do it purposefully, but he almost whimpers.  

You take a shuddering breath. “Please- please move, Steve, I can’t take it.”

Oh, you can’t take it? “You know what,” Steve says with a hint of strain in his voice, picking his head up to nuzzle his nose with yours, “I think you like me.”

You snort, and kiss him lightly. “What gave you that impression?”

“Y’so fucking cute.” Steve hums and sloooowly pulls his hips back, dragging his cock through your walls so deliciously that your toes curl. “Could be all those times you stared at me in class-” He watches your face as he pushes forward, until his hips are flush with yours and your head arches backwards against his sheets. “Could be when you nearly let me kiss you at prom-” Out. In. Steve runs his tongue up the length of your throat, and bites at your earlobe. He whispers, “Could be that you came on my tongue ten minutes ago.”

He picks up his pace, just a bit. Just enough to have the bed creaking under you with the rhythm, to have you moaning in tandem with him- needy and high pitched, leaping from your throat into the hot, sex-charged air.  

Steve’s lips latch onto your neck, and he sucks hard. He eases up after just a couple seconds, dragging his tongue over the sensitive spot, but you know what he’s just done- he’s marked you, right where you won’t be able to hide it in the morning. 

You want him to do it all over your body.

Your jaw goes slack and you’re losing all integrity. He’s even better than you imagined- sleepless nights wanting, hoping endlessly that you’d find yourself here, under him, couldn’t have prepared you for how perfect it feels. His hand finds yours and laces your fingers together, pinning it to the mattress beside your head, squeezing with every slow and purposeful thrust of his hips. 

Steve’s cock finds your g-spot like it’s nothing, like he’s known your body for ages. He barely even has to try before you’re whimpering, raking your nails up his back and leaving long red trails behind. 

Your teeth latch onto his shoulder and you bite, probably harder than you should, but you just can’t refuse the urge to mark him the way that he’s left his mark on you. He moans, a deep and boyish sound in your ear, as you drag your tongue along his shoulder, soothing the bite, tasting his sweat. The salt and the sweetness of his skin, mixed with the heady smell of sex in the room, have you losing yourself in him.

“Biter.” You hear him chuckle dangerously, rumbling along your skin while his nose skirts your jawline. 

“You’re so good, Stevie-” you whine, hot pleasure rearing up in you like a tidal wave. “Oh, you feel so fucking good, I love- love how you feel inside me.”

Steve groans loudly into your shoulder, his teeth grazing your collarbone. You think he has a mind to bite you back- maybe he’d do it harder. You can see Steve drawing blood, when the mood suits him. 

But his hand squeezes yours, his other sweeping broadly up your thigh and hitching your leg up further over his hip. “Yeah?” His voice is rough, bordering on a growl, “What’d’ya say we stay like this forever, huh? Just like this?” 

His pelvis grinds up against yours, his pubes crushing against your clit making you gasp. Everything’s wet- your skin, his skin, the sheets. Sweaty bodies sticking and sliding against each other, your hips meeting his in the middle.

“Like this?” you gasp, your head reeling. His forehead presses against yours, and it’s just about the only thing bringing you back into focus. Steve doesn’t falter, keeping the same pace and rhythm while he watches you try to form a coherent reply. “Mm- I- I, hhuh-”

“C’mon, babygirl,” he breathes against your damp skin, “you can do better than that. You love my cock so much, you wanna keep it warm all the time? Wanna stay in bed with me forever, is that it?”

You nod fervently, your hands grabbing at his neck, his hair, his shoulder- anywhere you can touch. “Yes, yes. God, Steve, I- you’re gonna make me cum, shit-”  

“I know it,” Steve murmurs, tugging your lip between his teeth and making you whine again. Your cunt pulses around him, and he hisses, his hand slipping on your thigh. “Love seein’ you all drunk on my cock- shit, you’re so gorgeous like this.” He pauses to kiss you, making you lightheaded, making you tug at his hair. “Y’look so pretty under me, baby. Pussy feels so good, I wanna stay here, too. I can see us doin’ this for the rest of our lives, huh? How’s that sound?” 

How does it sound? You and Steve Harrington, together forever? Intertwined, knotted up with no way to lose each other, no disappearing and then reappearing years down the line?

“S’that a challenge?” you whimper shakily at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?” 

“I don’t think I could let you go, now,” Steve tells you firmly, his hand leaving your thigh so that he can grab your jaw possessively, his tongue darting out to trace gently across your bottom lip. “I’m never gonna let you go, baby.”

You wrap your legs around his waist. “I don’t want you to.”

“I hope so,” he whispers, his breath mingling with yours.

Steve kisses you long and slow when you cum. You swallow his moans when he does.

What would you? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you, oh, I can see you…

You almost think it’s a dream. When you rouse in the morning, you feel like you imagined it. But you’re surrounded by the scent of Steve, of musky cologne and sweat and sex, and maybe just a little bit of hair gel stuck to his pillows. 

You flop over and stare at the ceiling. You’re alone in a king size bed, fitted with gray sheets and a few too many pillows. The other side of the bed is still warm, but your paramour is nowhere to be found. His bedroom is fairly stark, with a few little things arranged on the dresser top and clothes thrown around the floor. It doesn’t feel like a room he spends much time in, aside from sleeping and dressing in the morning.

You immediately think about what this all means for you. Whether he really meant what he said in the heat of the moment, if he really wants this to be a long-term thing or if it was just pillow talk. It doesn’t take you long to determine which one you want it to be.

There’s commotion on the other side of the closed door. You lean over the side of the bed, searching for something to put on before you just waltz out there naked. Ultimately, you pull on his blouse from last night.

You emerge from the bedroom squinting against the light in the room. The blinds in the living room are open, casting bright sunlight across the room and into the kitchen. You find Steve in front of the stove.

“Hey, there she is!” he announces happily. “Just in time for breakfast.”

Steve looks so comfortable in the kitchen, moving around quickly and efficiently, whereas you tend to blunder about. When you wander over to the island, you notice he’s already picked up his suit jacket, and laid it across the bar stool next to the one you choose. 

Your underwear is nowhere to be seen.

You grin at his back, plopping down onto the bar stool. The metal is cold against your bare ass, nearly making you squeal and jump back up. “Is it a Sex on the Beach?”

He laughs gleefully. “Nah, if only. How was that, by the way?” 

“The ice cream, or the porn?”

He turns to grin at you over his shoulder. “Both.”

He’s wearing glasses. Round wire frames that complement his face perfectly, making him look distinguished in his gray sweats and black t-shirt. Just like that, you’re spiraling. Suddenly, you’re picturing yourself being here, with him cooking breakfast in his glasses and PJ’s every morning, on and on into the future. Doing domestic shit, grocery shopping, dancing around in the kitchen at 3 am, kissing in the rain- well, you’ve already done that one.  

But you can see it. That future, with him by your side, it’s right there. You just don’t know if it’s the one that he wants. You don’t really know how deep this runs for him.

Funny what just an accessory can do to your train of thought.

“Um.” You swallow. What was the question? “The ice cream was great. Still the best sundae I’ve ever had, by the way. The porn was bullshit, I didn’t get through twenty minutes. I just wanted to make you blush.”

“Brat.” He spins around, and plates an omelet right in front of you. You watch his face, tracing the easy smile he wears. “I hope you like it- but if you don’t, you better not say anything. I don’t think I could handle the pain of your rejection.” He looks up at you, hazel eyes shining gold in the sunlight. “You’re staring.”

“I-” you blink at him. You don’t fucking say. You open your mouth to ask- you want to ask what this is, what he feels, did he mean it. Do you want to do this again? Is this serious for you? Because it is for me, if you want it. You just don’t get that far.

“You’ve been staring since we were fourteen,” he chuckles, sliding you a fork. 

That startles you. “Well,” you click your tongue. “I didn’t realize you were looking so closely.”

“Oh,” Steve shrugs, turning to place the pan in the sink. “Just since freshman year. When you read Juliet’s monologue in English class. Remember?”

You tilt your head. Vaguely. It was just a class project, where each person had to choose a Shakespearean monologue to recite in front of the class. You thought he only even became aware of you senior year.

Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee, Take all myself. 

“Are you telling me,” you say, palms flat on the counter as you peer at him incredulously, “you’ve liked me just as long as I’ve liked you?”

“Told you I’d get there, eventually.”

Your brain refuses to compute. You stare at his back, his tousled hair, and want to yank him toward you and squeeze him like one of those fucking squeaky toys that you get at the pet store. The ones the eyes pop out of.

Steve turns to you with a smirk, leaning across the counter to mirror you. He reaches forward to trace the mark he made on your neck, still tender, while mocking your pout back at you. His eyes crease at the corners, like they always do when he’s trying to be coy.

“Eat your breakfast, baby. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

(I see you, I see you, baby.)

[ynbabe]

LOGAN FIC REQ!! (i love your messages au smmm btw THEYRE SO GOOD AHH) ok anywayssss

can you pls do logan x super super famous!reader.(preferably an actress but i don't mind any) so both of them are dating but are trying to keep it a secret since they've only been dating for a short amount of time. one night they decide to go on a date but paparazzi was there and it was going VIRAL. reader regrets not double checking if there would be any paps. sooo then everyone starts investigating on logan as the internet does and since everyone doesn't watch f1, they only see logan crashing and blah blah blah so they see him as a "bad driver" and he starts getting A LOT of hate because people think reader deserves better. they also start comparing him to reader's "more better and famous ex". reader and logan take time off social media and people think they broke up until reader releases an instagram post defending him and yeah a lot of fluff and hurt/comfort.

idk if this made sense but pls feel free to change anything!! again i love your work sm 💕‼️

Hiiii, omg thank you so much! Love love LOVE the fic idea and without any further ado- here's the fic, it isn't exactly as the prompt but I hope you love it-

Keep my wife's name OUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH ୨୧ Logan Sargeant x famous! reader

As a celebrity, you don’t often have the privilege of privacy. The cameras seemed to follow you everywhere, from outside your house to the restaurants you ate at and even to private celebrations with your friends and family.

Your last relationship had gone south exactly because of the paparazzi, making assumptions about the seriousness of your relationship and even spreading pregnancy and marriage rumours, scaring the man away.

You had wanted to take it slow, heart broken from your previous relationship but then you met Logan and for the first time in a long time you felt like you could breath, like you could do what you wanted without being judged.

You knew who he was and he knew who you were and that was perfect.

The both of you had spent a perfect week in your villa in Bali, it had been risky but no one caught on, surprisingly.

You thought your luck would continue and you threw causation to the wind, not asking your assistant to check for paparazzi at the sushi restaurant you were going to in Shanghai.

Unfortunately, you were caught just as you were leaving the restaurants waking up to a host of notifications, some good and some gut-wrenching.

Logan on the other hand tried not to throw up, his eyes wide, you could tell he was scared. Would his team drop him? No, no. Why would they? Right? Oh God.

"Logan, Logs, baby are you okay?" You called out, dropping to your knees and cradling his face in your palms.

f1waglife

f1waglife Y/n nation how are we feeling tonight? Logang? How are we? This was definitely not the couple we expected but is this the couple we deserve?

Username OH HELL NAW- WHY IS THIS FLORIDA MAN DATING QUEEN Y/N?????

Username Y/n come home the kids miss you

Username Omg mans is in love

Username Get someone to look at you the way Logan looks at Y/n

You saw some of the comments and while some made you smile, some made you want to slap a bitch, unfortunately, a scandal would not help, so you called up your PR manager, and the post was gone within a minute.

Logan's race had gone sour, with him getting an unfair penalty and points on his licence. The already poor start to your day had turned even worse when you saw Logan tiredly storm into the room collapsing on the bed, burying his face in his pillow.

"What... the..... fuck?" He screamed into the pillow making you smile a little. The small habit he'd picked up from you, screaming into the pillows as a way to think, one that you had picked up from one of the characters you played a long time ago.

"Why do people even care about who's dating who? That's so stupid." He rolled his eyes.

"Don't we binge Keeping Up with the Kardashians every Monday?" You asked.

"That's not the same though-" He paused and switched his phone off, he already didn't have access to his own Instagram, having given access to his manager a long time ago, he now didn't even want to talk to his friends or colleagues many of whom just wanted an autograph from you along with an explanation how he could be with you.

He turned around, pulling the blanket on him, tired from the day.

You pulled up Twitter as a habit but were greeted with a terrible chain of tweets judging every aspect of your relationship and even worse criticizing Logan without even knowing anything about the sport.

"What the fuck-" You cursed out loud, you knew your fanbase was slightly (an underestimation) larger than your boyfriends but how could they call themselves your fans, when you have been a fan of Logan's since his first season in f1? All your co-stars American or not knew your borderline obsession for the man, every race week you'd be posting Williams on your story, how could they still hate on him?

You looked next to you, where your boyfriend was sleeping a small scowl on his pretty face.

PR be damned, he didn't deserve this.

y/nl/nofficial

y/nl/nofficial To anyone who calls themselves my fans and talks shit about my lovely boyfriend, UNFOLLOW ME ASAP. Logan is the kindest, sweetest, most talented man I've had the pleasure to know and he deserves better than the bullshit he gets from some assholes who don't know anything about him. To quote my friend Will: KEEP MY WIFES NAME OUT YOUR DAMN MOUTHS-

username oop sis snapped

username you tell em girl

username LOVE a gf whos rabidly in love with her bf

username now why would y'all try and shame Mother's boyfriend when all she does is post about him for race weekends??

username fr shes been a logan fan before logan fans have been logan fans

Williams We stan a protective gf 😮‍💨

username admin you'll always be famous y/nl/nofficial Cant help it he looks really pretty in blue 🥰 username oh she in love love

username shall we start calling him Father?

The way I was struggling to write this fic cause I had to write bad things about Pookie Bear Logie is insane. But- I hope yall like it, please do let me know in the comments or reblogs!!!

[hiraya-rawr]

maybe we can be more than this (servant/master)

characters !! diluc, ayato

contains !! just dialogues of gn reader. angst/comfort?? i think

synopsis !! thinking about servant and master where it's so obvious you're both in love but you can't bring yourself to cross the line and it hurts him sm—

+ + +

D I L U C

He's frustrated, pacing around as you desperately try to explain.

"Master Diluc, you must understand why–"

"Just Diluc."

"But Master Diluc–"

"How many times must I tell you, (Name)?" He turns towards you, a scowl on his lips as his voice rises. He breathes heavily before his shoulders lower, relaxing, and his face changes to that of hurt.

A quiet heartache.

"How many times must I hear you call me that? We've been friends for so long. I've loved you for so long. Can't I be more than just that to you. . .?" He looks down on the ground, unable to meet your gaze.

You feel your lips part, heart aching. How could you dare?

". . . Diluc," You whisper and his eyes snap towards you, hopeful, as your hand makes its way to cup his cheek, "You are already more than just that to me."

"Then allow me to be with you." He begs quietly.

"You know why I can't." You sob, feeling his own warm hands cupping your cheeks.

"Please, (Name)."

"Don't."

"Please,"

". . . I have to go help Adelinde turn off the gas lamps. Please get some rest, Master Diluc."

+ + +

A Y A T O

"Look at this, (Name)," He states harshly, stomping into his office as you trail behind, helplessly explaining, "Look."

Ayato roughly gestures to the pile of papers on his desk. Each in beautiful stationery, stamped cleanly.

"Marriage proposals. Each and everyone of them, I've rejected. I did this for us." He turns to you, a look of hurt in his eyes.

"Lord Kamisato, you know why–"

"You didn't use to call me that. I was Ayato. I was-"

"-That was when the Kamisato household was falling apart! It's different now and you know that-!" You cut in.

"It is different! Now the Kamisato household has the power and influence. If you marry me, I will take down every obstacle in our way."

Silence. He stares at you from across the dark office, only moonlight filtering in to highlight his baby blue hair. You know he's desperate, having danced around the topic for ages, but how could you be the clan's weakness? You can see how everyone would talk— how history would talk about it.

'Such a fine bachelor yet he chose a mere servant. Is there something wrong with the clan?'

'He was seduced. Held down by a childhood friend. You can't even trust a servant.'

'The clan had only recently gained its influence, yet it's falling apart again, all because of some—'

"Ayato," You try to hold back tears. You know it's unfair to him if you use this card. "If you love me, then please— don't make me do this to the clan. Don't make me do this to you."

He looks defeated. Shoulders slumped, tired, as he brings up a hand to rest on his forehead. Looking away from you, he sighs, "Had I known it would be like this, I never would have taken you in as my servant."

character m.list || ko-fi

note !! nothing hits differently than men with everything except the love of their life *shrugs* anyway my links have been weird lately idk why so hopefully this story posts without issues

[fishsinsareacknowledged]

AWFULLY out of character but comforting Nikto maybe, idk i just want the man to be somewhat happy

Shhh shhh shh don't even apologize pookie bear. I rolled my eyes back at this. I mean what.

Nikto who gets overwhelmed during public events that he didn't even want to go to. Already pissy because his teammates forced him there and even more so because people keep looking at him. Making the man both self conscious and exhausted that he had to keep up with random strangers.

Nikto who gets home and the first thing he does is try to rip off the overly fancy suit that he was forced to wear. Finding irritability the second that it catches on something and he's forced to wear it a second longee than he needs to. Fabric ripping at the seams until you grab his hands. Stopping him from clawing at his own wrists and face in his haze.

Some blood already dripping down the side of his cheek the moment he removed the mask a while ago. The metal slicing his skin from haste, something that he didn't care about through all his madness yet acknowledgd. Oh but it was visible, bright red against pale skin.

Those ice blue eyes staring widely at you as you grabbed his face. The blacks of his blue eyes unnaturally small. Almost immediately outwardly calming down at the feeling of your cold hands against his warm cheeks. Its like trying to calm down a scared animal. It was something familiar to him. The cold. No more suffocating air inside a cramped room.

Having to ground him back to earth as you hold his hands, already covered in his own blood. Skin itchy from how others stare at him yet under your gaze. He was just him. Because he knew you knew him. He knew you.

"Apologies i- we were...oh", something in him finally coming back to you in the brief moment of peace. Realizing how he tore through a still soft scar on his cheek, making himself even more mangled. Something in him that should feel shame for it yet nothing but exhaustion and acceptance reeks from his form.

"Let me take care of you hm?", you whisper softly, trying to coax him back to reality as he feels your hand wipe away the blood. Soft fingertips against open flesh. The texture of skin making him wince from the pain as he reaches up to cup your hand. Stalling your touch on him and an instinct to pause pain all at the same.

"It doesn't hurt", he lies through his teeth, even as much as it wrongs him to lie to you. Finding it useless to care for a wound so small and yet. It would most likely leave another scar on his skin. Was he just making himself worse for you? Always looking and acting like a fucked up animal. He didn't want to and yet he was.

"Let me take care of it, Nikto", a simple call of his 'name' and he's sat. Letting you disinfect the wound through the awfully sterile alcohol. Barely even flinching as the disinfectant stings his cheek and wrists. Sure they weren't bleeding but small scratches could still cause infection.

"Raise your hands", a simple order. One he would heed to easily. Raising his arms for you to wrap with some gauze while he complains that it isn't even necessary, he doesn't even wear long sleeves shirts outside of deployment.

"Tilt your head for me?", and he follows. Because why wouldn't he when you ask so softly? Taking care of him like he deserved it. Trying to ignore the way blood rushes to his cheek and pours out even more.

"Darling, I can see you blushing, do you like getting pampered?", he would never admit it if it was anyone other than you. A visibly red hue on his usually pale skin.

"Da", and he doesn't care. Or at least that's what he says. His blush only deepening when you pinch his chin in your hands tilting his head to the side while he mentally tries so hard to avoid your gaze. Pupils drifting off to the side like a sad dog. Grimacing until you tell him to stop because you can't get the bandage on.

"Tired hm? Wanna talk about it?", you offer up once he's gained that blur in his eyes. No longer a prey trying to avoid being hunted. Just a bunny in its natural habitat. His pupils back to their natural size and more as he stares back up at you.

A unintelligible grunt exits through his throat, barely even moving. Finding himself slouched a few minutes ago in his panic. Hands absentmindedly trailing your sides as he sits you down on his lap on his insistence. And he's calm at least. Falling asleep once you take off the tight fitting jacket. Slumbering softly on the sofa and just pulling you closer with every hour. Lying down to make sure you didn't wake up with back problems.

[kurokens]

Everything I Love Will Make Me Cry | Satosugu

anime/manga: jujutsu kaisen

character: gojo satoru & geto suguru

words: 1.5k

pronouns: they/them

request: none

notes: part 3 of In The Middle, my first satosugu piece. trying stg new by including some texts in the middle but idk if i'm a fan, just didn't know how to convey it better than this way.. don't judge the quality of the text this is an app i used to use back in 2020 and i didn't want to try and find a new one. also thank u to 🪼 anon, ur message helped me get out of writer block, this one for u!!

not proof read

song rec: Everything I Love Will Make Me Cry - Movning

genre: hurt comfort, fluff, slowburn, a little bit angsty, poly?

warnings: satosugu are in a loving relationship, misunderstanding, pinning, a lot of pinning on satosugu's end, reader is so oblivious, insecure and self conscious reader

Taking all of your clothes and getting out of the apartment was probably one of the hardest thing you ever had to do in your life. Especially what forced you to do it. But what else could you do? You no longer were welcomed there, and you knew it, the longer you stayed and the worse it would hurt. So you took advantage of both of your roomates being gone for the day to pack your essentials, write a note and get out of there. Not without your vision blurred by your tears. You didn't really plan your next moves but it felt like an evidence to just go and crash at Shoko's, such an evidence that you refused to do it. After all she was just as close with these two as you were, well, as you used to, so it would be quite an awkward position for her, and you refused to impose this on her. That's how you found yourself at the door of an old friend of yours, looking like a kicked puppy. "What are you doing looking like a sad little puppy?" Namami said after opening the door.

"Please don't, I already told you, and I don't want to cry any more than I've already did." You replied in a whine, to which he just gave a roll of his eyes, stepping aside to let you in.

"Haibara is in the kitchen, he is making some food for you. He thought you could use a warm meal right now." The blonde man told you, leading you towards the kitchen.

"M'not really hungry though..." You sighed, following him without another complaint.

"Ah! Don't say that, I've poured my soul into this meal. You better eat and appreciate it!!" Haibara exclaimed, popping his head through the door after hearing you two coming his way. "I made your favourite!"

"It smells wonderful Yū, I'll eat it, just for you. And enjoy it, that's for sure." You giggled, seeing his enthusiam and the effort he put into this, pulling the younger boy in your arms.

"You can stay here as long as you need. And I promise I won't say a word to Satoru and Suguru about your whereabouts." Nanami chimed in, a soft smile on his face at your interactions.

"Haha, you don't have to worry about that. They're probably not gonna look for me at all, on the contrary." You whispered the last part, tears starting to well up again.

"Just, don't rush yourself to find a new place okay? You're more than welcomed to stay there. And I'm sure all of this must be a big misunderstanding." He gently answered.

"Thank you so much. It means a lot, even though I do doubt your last words." Was all you could muster as an answer.

To say the lovers were frantic was an understatement, they need to find you, they needed to tell you what they felt and how all of this was a misunderstanding. There was no way they were about to lose you over this, no not like this, not before you knew what you meant to them. It couldn't end with you thinking they hated you, lord, it was so far from the truth. They would never forgive themselves.

"Try calling them!!" Satoru shouted, pacing around your empty room.

"I already tried Toru, they're not answering, I go straight to voicemail." Suguru replied, his heart sinking at the potential meaning of his calls going straight to voicemail.

"No, no, no... You have to try again, please Sugu, try again!" The white-haired man begged, his voice breaking as the tears made their way up. "Sugu, this can't be it. Sugu we need to find them, this can't be it, please this can't be it."

All Suguru could do was take his lover into his arms, letting him break down and cry on his shoulders. Words stuck in his throat, as his own tears made their way down his cheeks. He never felt this helpless.

"Maybe..." He began slowly, "Maybe we should try and text them. So they can read it whenever they feel like it and not feel pressured to answer right away."

"Let's do that." Satoru grundgingly said, his pout never leaving his face.

Both of them let out a breath seeing your answer, it wasn't really positive one but at least they weren't blocked, and right now it meant already a lot for them. They would give you all the time in the world you needed, they were ready to wait an eternity if it meant that you would come back to them in the end. Well, at least Suguru was ready for that, Satoru was a whole other story. "M'gonna die Sugu. M'gonna disappear from the face of the earth if I don't see them soon." The youngest whined, holding onto his lover for dear life. "Why don't we call Shoko? I'm sure they're with her. Even better, we could just go there and tell them how this is just a misunderstanding, and we can tell them how much we love them and how we want them in our space forever, and never out of it."

"Baby, we have to wait and you know it. We don't know what they heard, and why they're so hurt. It made them leave our place Toru, it's not something we can fix that easily. We probably lost their trust, and winning it back won't be an easy task. That's why we can't force this on them. We have to be patient, and wait for them to come to us, no matter how much it hurts." The dark-haired man explained, not fully convinced by his own words, but one of them had to be rational in order to mess this up further.

"I know you're right, but knowing we hurt them and that we can't make it better is so hard. I never wanted to hurt them in the slightest, and now we drove them away. At least, I'm glad I have you in all of this." Satoru confessed, hiding even further in the crook of his lover's neck, hoping this wouldn't last too long.

You couldn't help the small smile that made its way on your face after reading your conversation, but it didn't stay for long. After all, you heard what you heard, and there was no way you could have gotten it wrong in any way, it was pretty clear who they were talking about, so this all misunderstanding thing seemed like a lie to you. But why would they lie about that? What was the point in hiding the truth now that you knew about it? Wouldn't it be easier for them now to get rid of you? Not having to go through the burden of telling you directly to leave and everything?

You were confused, a part of you wanted to believe they were telling the truth, that all of this was a misunderstanding, and your best friends didn't hate you. But at the same time, another part was scared because what if they really did hate you, and they were doing all this just to be able to humiliate you even further, and have the satisfaction to tell you in your face how much they wanted you out of their life. You were kind of used to be the odd one in friend groups, and ultimately being left out, so why would it be different this time?

"You realy should hear them out." A voice suddenly said, making you jump.

"Gosh Kento you scared me." You squeaked, hand on your chest in a futile try to appease your beating heart.

"I'm sorry, but really. I'm not the biggest fan of these two, and I think that's why you decided to come here, but I know they would never hurt you." Namami chuckled softly, sitting down next to you.

"Well, look at that, for once in your life you're wrong." You tearfully laughed.

"I've been wrong a lot of times in my life, but not on that. I promise you, they would never intentionally hurt you, especially not with their words." Your blonde-haired friend affirmed, and the look in his eyes told you there was no convincing him otherwise, almost as if he knew something you didn't.

"I don't know, I need time, I don't think I can face them yet." You explained, curling into a ball next to him.

"Take all the time you need." He simply replied, petting your hair as if to comfort the crying child you were. And for now it's all you needed, some time and a comforting friend, you would deal with all of this later, maybe.

oki here it is!! sorry im not quite satisfied with this part, i wanted to make it longer and have them maybe meet to talk it out but i also didn't know if it was the mood of this part or not... also, yes, don't worry there will be a part 4! part 4 here!!

[generalsmemories]

HELLOOO FRIEND :DD I just wanted to say that i really like your stories :33 So, can i request a Jing Yuan x reader where they meet in the past? Like Jing Yuan just accidenly bummed into Reader while walking/shopping?

Sorry if it doesn't make sense Also can i be a Hachimi Anon?

A voice unheard

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ synopsis: If you're given the chance to meet someone you thought you wouldn't meet again, what would you tell them?

✧ contents: fluff, hurt/comfort, sort of an open ending, idk what to even call their relationship, almost lovers to strangers?? mentions of other characters, namely: trailblazer (gn) and herta | word count: 2.3k (i don't know how.)

✧ a/n: i do admit i pondered a bit on this. it may not be what you had hoped but i hope it was still to your liking! also you can of course be hachimi anon so welcome welcome! also this idea popped up after listening to jjk's season 2 opening "ao no sumika" just as a lil fun fact if ya want some more suffering

✧ note: this drabble is mostly written through Jing Yuan's pov, so the sentences written in italics are jing yuan's thoughts!

"Do you have any regrets, general?" Jing Yuan blinked in surprise, the usual smile he sports on his lips slipping a tiny bit before directing his gaze down towards the trailblazer who curiously looked up at him, patiently waiting for an answer, "Why the sudden interest?" he asks instead.

He doesn't get an answer immediately, but he can tell that the trailblazer before him is witholding some information with how their eyes dart back and forth instead of facing him directly. When they peek once again over to Jing Yuan and sees that he's still staring down at them, they let out a sigh before looking ahead once again, "There's this one member of the Genius Society..." they start. which makes Jing Yuan more confused than before.

"... Do I assume that this member of the Genius Society wants to use me as some sort of guinea pig?" he asks outright, the trailblazer once again losing any ounce of confidence they had just gathered to say that one sentence, turning around while scrambling for words, "I did offer that I could do it again! I mean I already do her Simulated Universe testing, but when I offered she just stared at me with such a dead look! And then she told me I would have nothing to give her because I don't have enough memories-"

Oh, so that's what it's about.

The proposal seemed intriguing enough, "Why not? It would make for quite an enjoyable day, seeing that there's not a lot to do today. What do you need to know? I would have to make you aware I'm not able to leave the Luofu in it's entirety, so making the trip to this members abode would not be feasible at this time," Jing Yuan huffs out with a laugh, the trailblazer merely shaking their head, "No, she gave me one of her puppets to bring with me on the express if she ever wanted to do some testing."

"... Gave you one of her puppets?"

"It's a long story, general. But she is already waiting for you by the express, if you would have the time to make the trip to Cloudford for a few hours at most?"

Which is how Jing Yuan finds himself strapped to a bunch of wires and holding a peculiar looking helmet with even more wires attatched on the outside. Glancing towards the side, he can see a smaller person beside the trailblazer, her obvious ball-joints fully on display - he assumes that this person was the rather... "Eccentric" Genius Society member the trailblazer was referring to.

"... So you're the general of the Luofu, I had assumed you would be far older appearance wise," Jing Yuan merely gives her a cheeky grin and a tilt of his head, "Anyway, I wanted to see if I could perfectly replicate a certain memory that's buried deep down within your brain with just a few important keypoints from the recipient within the Simulated Universe. Of course we could've had a broader scope if the trailblazer had just dragged you to my space station, but alas," she says, gesturing for Jing Yuan to put on the helmet before nodding towards the bed, "We're only limited to one particular strong memory. So general, what's your biggest regret?"

"Ms. Herta, I would have a lot of memories being that I've lived for this long, no?"

"Which is why I'm telling you to think of one of your biggest ones, every human has tons of regrets - you just happen to have way more than the average which makes you a perfect candidate."

His attempt on making a lighthearted joke was quickly shot down. However now that he's being forced to think over all the people he's had to let go of during his life, he finds himself in quite a pickle.

But somehow, there's still one foggy memory that yet seems so clear to him.

"... There's one individual who I would want to talk to again. If I remember correctly, the day I met them again after centuries apart was nothing more than half a day at most. But I wasn't aware that meeting would also be the last day," he starts, about to continue before Herta raises her hand to stop him.

"That's plenty already. I'm now going to transfer your consciousness to small pocket reality where that exact memory happened. You just do whatever you want once you're in there - any data is data after all."

The artifical sun seems somehow brighter than it usually is when Jing Yuan opens his eyes again. When he finally gathers himself and starts to look around he realizes that he finds himself at Starwatcher Avenue overlooking the street from a higher spot - the familiar yells of street vendors and laughter of passing families or merchants clear in his ears.

Everything seemed so real that it was quite honestly terrifying.

The people greeting him with a smile or a bow when he descended down towards the street, the Cloud Knight giving him a salute and even to the finches landing on his shoulder or head.

If he hadn't known any better, he would've genuinely thought that he was for once experiencing quite a pleasant dream where the Luofu wasn't dealing with the problem of a stellaron.

"Does the newly appointed general really have time to laze around the Avenue like this?" he immediately stiffens up upon hearing that voice. A voice he was sure he had already forgotten what truly sounded like , but yet when he heard it again he knew he would never be able to forget such a lovely voice.

If he didn't knew any better, he would've thought that fate was toying with him by giving him such a nice start only to crush him completely.

"... Jing Yuan?" you call out once again, a bit more nervously since the general before you didn't even turn around to address you.

Ah, if I remember correctly I did immediately turn around when they first called out.

So he takes a deep breath, holds it in for a few seconds before he lets it out and turns around. And the moment he does he's awestruck.

How in the world was Ms. Herta able to recreate your whole appearance to such a degree? Granted she probably took the little information he had provided and done something, but to be able to fabricate your apperance, behaviour and manner of speech in such a short time?

Jing Yuan doesn't know what he should be feeling.

"I thought a busy ranger like yourselves would be far too occupied to take the time to talk to a general, but here you are as well," he jokes back, hoping that you can't tell that his smile is a bit more wobbly than usual.

He forgot how captivating you looked back then.

"Please, I have time to sit down and chat with an old friend, don't I?" you joke, gesturing him closer to you as you sat down at one of the many cafés the Avenue has to offer, "And I bet you also have time seeing that you took upon the offer to sit down and have a few drinks," you added on with a gleeful smile.

He also forgot how easy it was for you to make him feel at ease - even after centuries apart.

[And exactly what part of this memory is your biggest regret, general? It seems like you're having the time of your life here.]

A sudden textbox appearing right before his eyes made Jing Yuan's eyes widen, the general blinking owlishly at it in amazement. Your own eyebrows raise at his rather surprised face, tilting your head with a frown, "You're acting unusually weird today, is everything alright?"

"Oh, yes. I might've had too much work lately for a proper nap," he lies effortlessely - a trait he found that he would habitually do centuries later.

[Oh, don't worry, you can just answer. I'll just make them forget that you answer me the moment you do.]

Jing Yuan sighs, "I mentioned that this would be the last time I would meet them, right? They're a part of the galaxy rangers. We've drifted apart when I got appointed general and they found a chance to join shortly after. If I remember, this would be the first time and last time in over a decade we meet again."

[... Ahh, I see now.]

He's sure that Herta understood what that meant, being that she was part of the same society as the alleged perpretator.

So Jing Yuan decides to omit the details on how much closer the two of you actually were. The night late banters while overlooking the same avenue you were currently seated in, the countless sparring matches that always "coincidentally" ended with either one of you on top of the other in a fit of laughter (Ignoring the fact that his arms are 90% of the time wrapped around you in a vice grip during these moments).

He excludes the joyous moments you had spent with him and his other close friends. How your fingers twirled around his longer strands and bringing them to your lips with a smile, or when you lightly squeezed back when he entertwined your hands together when the two of you decided to slip out of a rather large gathering after a succesful expedition.

He omits the fact that you're both currently wearing (and in his case still wearing till this day) the accessories the two of you had previously gifted each other. He can faintly see the necklace you have tucked beneath your shirt, and he's aware that your gaze is on the tassel he has attatched to one of his belts.

It was the last time he would see you after all. And yet, even with this knowledge he has now - he still finds himself doing the same mistake he did all those centuries ago.

He's still quiet. He's still dead silent even when he knows what kind of fate awaits you when you rise up from that chair before him and continue your initial plan for the day.

You let out a quiet laugh, perhaps mistaking his quietness as awkwardness as you start to stand up in your chair, "I can't take more of the generals' time with my selfish request, so I should probably go and gather what I was originally supposed to get," you inform whilst rising from your chair. Meanwhile Jing Yuan was rooted in his spot, looking down at his teacup without answering you. He's aware that your gaze is on him.

And yet he doesn't dare to look up to make eye contact, just like back then when this was all not a simulation. Instead choosing to swivel the contens inside the cup he was gripping.

He pauses in his movements, blinking as realization slowly dawns down on him.

That's right, this is a simulation. What has happened has already happened, I can't change that.

"Ms. Herta. If I were to do something else than what I had originally done, how much of the response back would be genuine?" he whispers lowly, he can tell that you're starting to move away.

"... Well, it was nice meeting you again, Jing Yuan."

[90%. This is all a code, yes. But I can assure you that whatever response they give you now would mimic exactly what they would've initially responded happened back then if were you to say what you're about to say instead.]

Jing Yuan didn't know he could add more to this regret than what had already transpired. But there it was, a new regret on this memory served to him on a silver platter.

"... Wait, [Name]," he calls out as he gets up from the chair, the screech it makes against the pavement being loud enough for you to turn around to face him with wide eyes.

And he's stunned. In the past, he had stayed rooted in his place and thus not even seen your back as you walked away from him. He knew your voice was a bit wobbly back then, but now he's properly staring at you and taking in more of your appearance. Your reddened eyes and slightly agape mouth, slightly swollen from how you most likely bit them to reduce any noise.

He finds himself suddenly unable to let his voice out.

"... If we were to not meet again at all after this," he finally utters after a while, trying his best to ignore the urge to get closer to you. Instead he sucks in a deep breath before giving you the same easy-going smile he's gotten used to wearing at all times. The starting sentence makes you furrow your eyebrows in confusion, turning your body fully to properly face him while awaiting his next words, "... What would you do?" he asks in the end, staring as your eyes go from a widened state to gazing at him softly.

"I would tell that I loved you," you answer immediately.

Now it's Jing Yuan's eyes to widen.

"And then I would cease to exist sometime in the future without being able to see you again, the end," you add whilst turning around again so your back was facing him.

"Was that a joke?"

"...Unfortunately not."

You still don't turn around, but you're rooted in your spot for a few minutes - as if giving him a chance to do something, anything.

And it's at this moment that Jing Yuan comes to the realization that he's no good with emotions. He knows he's opening his mouth, but he's also aware that they keep closing too. The words die at the tip of his tongue, and his eyes are still staring at your back as you start to move further away from him.

He comes back to his senses far too late, only able to walk a few steps while reaching out a hand, "We'll meet again, right...?" he cries out, although he's fully aware you can no longer hear him.

[Well I got what I wanted. Jing Yuan I'll bring you back now.]

Jing Yuan can feel his consciousness getting dragged away from the simulated scene before he can answer. But just before his vision completely blackens, he can see you turn around while raising your arms up, seemingly waving at him - he can make out your smile as you open your mouth.

"Goodbye."

[unwishablestars]

Hi I’m not sure if you take this type of requests and if you don’t you can just ignore it. Could you do Cassidy, Hanzo, Genji, Lifewaever and Mauga (not sure if you writ for him) comforting their s/o after they got rescued from being kidnapped. Can you also add that the s/o was pregnant but had a miscarriage due to the kidnapping? If you don’t want to add the last bit that’s fine.

Thank you. 😊

I failed

Pair(s): Cassidy x Pregnant!Reader | Hanzo x Pregnant!Reader | Genji x Pregnant!Reader | Lifeweaver x Pregnant!Reader

Genre: Angst , Hurt/Comfort (little comfort ngl)

Word Count: 1.3k

Tags: Headcanons, Angst, Miscarriage, Multi-Character, uhhhhhhhhhhhhh

TWs: Miscarriage, Kidnapping, Angst, Mildly-described violence

Summary: Cassidy/Hanzo/Genji/Lifeweaver's partner get kidnapped while pregnant leading to reader's miscarriage.

A/N: HIIIII ANONNNN!!! Thank you so much for your request!<3 I'm really sorry about the delay since life got in the way a bit :( And sorry I don't write for Mauga cuz idk how yet--- fresh hero ykyk</3 I hope you like this though!! Sorry for the delay again :(

Cassidy

Even before joining overwatch Cassidy was already a pretty wanted man due to him being part of the dead lock gang

And it never really changed when he joined overwatch

Though this time he wasn't a criminal but he was still in a dangerous field, but you always loved him because you've seen him in all the ways he loves you.

He was swooned when he met you.

One cheesy love story later, BOOM, you're preggers.

Whether you were a civilian or an agent, Cassidy WILL NOT let you get involved with his work while pregnant.

So he was absolutely distraught when he couldn't find you in you're shared home.

He walks through the door calling out for your name, ready to pamper you for the night, only to get no response.

Suddenly, he sees the signs of struggle. Knocked over furniture, thrown books, and just a general mess of your home

He is frantic.

Starts yelling your name, running around the house trying to look for you. "..Fuck..FuckfuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK"

After a few hours, they eventually locate you. They waste no time at all.

The plan was simple, (maybe even too simple), just get you out of there. Unharmed.

Cole, with worry and adrenaline as strong as ever, finds you tied to a chair. Crying, distraught, and bleeding.

Now you lay on the base's medic bay, face showing numbness as you learned the news of your baby.

Everyone had left after attempting to comfort you. All except for you lover.

He held your hand as he felt a familiar pain of loss, holding back tears, he just wanted to make sure you knew you weren't alone. And that he is so sorry.

"Darlin.. fuck.. I'm so sorry.. I was supposed to protect you. Our child.. it's my-- I'm so fucking sorry, love. Please.. please don't hate me."

Of course you didn't hate him. But too exhausted to speak, you brought his hand up to your cheek and weakly said "Just.. stay.."

"Darlin.. I will never leave your side."

Hanzo

Hanzo has been hiding in the shadows and constantly on the run for years. Alone. Until you, of course.

You offered to give him a place to stay after seeing him about to doze off sitting on a bench in the park

"No, it's fine. I'm just resting." He was literally about to pass out--

He had eventually opened up to you after much persistence and kindness, and grew incredibly fond of you.

To him, you brought him peace.

For a while, he tried to lessen contact with you as to avoid any conflicts with the people searching for him.

But he was conflicted when he found out you were pregnant. He did not want to leave your side but he also did not want to endanger you, especially in this state.

After some reassurance, he agreed to stay and take care of you.

He had hoped he would lay low enough that not only would he have to worry about your safety but also be able to be a present father to his child.

But when he came to your shared home and the door wide open, he fuckin lost it.

Frantically looking for you in your home, swearing all sorts in his home tongue didn't solve the issue.

He couldn't find you but he did find an envelope containing you're whereabouts.

They've been planning this for a while, how long were they watching him? Why did they only strike when you're health was so critical.

Hanzo was livid realizing this.

He headed to your location and found you tied to a chair, sac over your head, in a dimly lit warehouse

He knew it was a trap but ain't no way he would let anyone put a finger on you.

After being roughed up himself, (but ultimately beating the shit put of a of em) he took a look at you and saw the bruises, the scrapes

and the blood down there

he held you close, forever blaming himself for what happened

Genji

Genji and you met during your time in overwatch while they were in their prime

He was emo back then but you liked that,

And when he realized he liked you're unconditional admiration, he liked you too.

He didn't admit it of course, neither to himself nor to you but whatever.

Years later, Winston sends the recall.

And he was pleased to find out you had come back,

With a new mentality, a new acceptance of himself, and a more open acceptance of your love.

This time he made the first move, trying to act smooth like his pre-overwatch days, but his stuttering and nervousness gave it away though.

He was worried you'd remembered him as the angry and vengeful man he once was, but you saw who he was deep down

Which is the exact reason why he fell in love with you.

Eventually, after feeling a bit of morning sickness he urged you to go Mercy or Bap or anyone to help you get better.

Only for you to find out you're pregnant.

You stayed away from missions for a while as Genji requested, at most doing paperwork and helping a bit around the base.

But when the base was suddenly attacked, Genji pinned, yelling at you to stayed back.

You tuned out his pleads and gripped your weapon to help the father of your child.

And you did, but you were knocked out and taken away. He was too weak to reach you.

They immediately set out to rescue you, fully aware of your vulnerable state.

Though they had insisted for Genji to heal up first, through his broken visor, he shot them a glare that wouldn't stop him from saving his love.

After finding you in a cell, bruises all over in a weakened state, unconscious, he carried you back to the ship and held you close, eye getting watery.

You woke up in a hospital bed in the medbay, the first thing you notice being the ache your body feels, and the pain in your stomach.

Then, you notice your lover hold you close and tight.

Followed by the sorrowful looks of the doctors.

They left to give you two some space.

"I'm.. so sorry.. please.. forgive me.."

With tears in your eyes, you held each other close, never wanting to let go again.

Lifeweaver

You had worked alongside Lifeweaver in his development of biolight,

He loved having you at his side.

Soon he took you dates, brought you gifts and food, too show appreciation.

Not realizing he was indulging in his growing love for you.

After giving him some clarity of his feeling with a bold kiss, you two were inseparable, even more than before.

After you had missed you're period, you showed your lover the positive test and he way beyond joyful.

He always urged you to rest and didn't let you lift a finger. He didn't want you to be stressed or worried, he saw such beauty in you.

But those you wanted his biolight saw opportunity.

He was out buying food for you and his future baby but he came home to an open door, silence, thrown trinkets and portraits.

In his panic, he wondered whether or not he would need to contact his family. Or Satya. Or Baptiste. Anyone.

He received a video file on his desktop.

Asking for the acces to his biolight as well as the information to it's creation.

He was shaking, he wasn't strong enough to fight them on his own, he needed help. He needed you. Please come back to me.

He cannot wait any longer. He caved. Only for you. And for them.

He had sent all the information they needed. And as breathed heavily on his knees. He heard a vehicle arrive at his estate.

He hurried out, even almost tripping in the process, he needed to see you were okay, that you were both okay.

He saw you being lead to the front gate, and the abductors lackey walking back to their vehicle.

Giving him a face of no remorse.

As he held you in his arms once again, the look in your eyes had told him everything.

You two stayed there. Just feeling the comfort of what you two still had. Each other.

[wambsgansshoelaces]

hi, i think u did a similar one already but could i get a hc on how succession characters react to their s/o crying? about feeling sad , or stressed , or losing a loved one , idk , just something mildly serious. i wasn't feeling great today and i started crying and my sister told me to stop crying and was like mean af to me and i could use some gentleness and affection :|

aw anon im so sorry :( I know I’m really late with this but I hope you’re doing much better <3 I’m always here for you in my ask box or pms!! your sister is an asshole you can cry whenever you want all of your emotions are valid and I love u u are so worthy

I hope these make you feel happy <3 enjoy x

serious issues (succession main cast)

Kendall

ᝰ when he notices your mood is off, he immediately goes solemn

ᝰ while if it were something smaller, he’d leave it and let you come up and talk to him on your own

ᝰ but he can tell it’s bad

ᝰ and he’s not going to let you stew in this by yourself

ᝰ he will help you

ᝰ whether you want him to or not

ᝰ he gets you a glass of water

ᝰ and forces you to drink

ᝰ then sits you down and makes you tell him what’s wrong

ᝰ when you do

ᝰ rather, when you burst into tears in his arms

ᝰ he can’t help but feel horrible

ᝰ he cradles your face in his hands and kisses away your tears

ᝰ he apologizes over and over

ᝰ he’s rubbing your back the entire time you tell him what’s going on

ᝰ “cry it all out. i’m right here.”

ᝰ he talks you through it

ᝰ he’s cosplaying his therapist

ᝰ if it was a death, he gets the name of where the service will be held and pays for it in secret

ᝰ over the next few weeks, you can just show up in his office and cry on his shoulder

ᝰ and he won’t ask any questions

ᝰ he always lets you

ᝰ the night you tell him, he keeps an arm hooked around you, keeping your head to his chest

ᝰ he plays with your hair and strokes soothing patterns into your skin for the rest of the night

ᝰ as you recover emotionally, he makes sure to check in on you

ᝰ even long after the incident, you both make sure that you have no bullshit check ins with each other

ᝰ “how are you really”s

ᝰ he makes it clear to you that he will always support you

ᝰ and you’re glad

Roman

ᝰ not really the best with words

ᝰ or emotions

ᝰ or being serious

ᝰ however

ᝰ the only time(s) he is 100% serious is when you’re severely upset

ᝰ the first time it happens, it’s like he stops breathing

ᝰ “hey, come here. something’s wrong. i need to know what.”

ᝰ you tell him

ᝰ it’s the hardest you’ve ever cried

ᝰ the entire time, he grips your hand, gently stroking the back of it with his fingers

ᝰ he’s never been more focused on anything in his life

ᝰ he wishes he could help talk you through it, but he’s physically incapable

ᝰ so what he does is murmur a few comforting words then take you out on a boat ride

ᝰ because of course he has a miniature yacht on call

ᝰ “you can relax, take your mind off everything. i’ll take care of things, don’t worry.”

ᝰ the rest of the day is spent the two of you cuddled together, looking out over the water

ᝰ he doesn’t say anything

ᝰ he feels bad because he doesn’t know how to help you sort through your emotions

ᝰ because god knows he can’t

ᝰ so instead, he spends every waking moment with you, at your beck and call

ᝰ regardless, he’d do anything for you

ᝰ incident or not

ᝰ he listens to you when you talk, of course

ᝰ he just can’t give you any sound advice

ᝰ the nights on the boat, when you’re at your most vulnerable, he makes sure you fall asleep before he does

ᝰ so that he can kiss you to sleep

ᝰ and make sure you fall asleep soundly, feeling safe

ᝰ he’ll never be happy unless you’re happy

Shiv

ᝰ she notices something’s wrong, but doesn’t say anything at first

ᝰ when you don’t come to her at all and instead stay holed up in your room, that’s when she knows something is really wrong

ᝰ she crawls up onto the bed with you, and you feel her hands smooth up your back

ᝰ “what’s wrong? tell me.”

ᝰ does not leave you alone until you do

ᝰ listens intently

ᝰ literally memorizes what you’re saying so that she can help fix things

ᝰ the entire time you’re speaking, she massages at your skin to soothe you

ᝰ and it works

ᝰ thumbs away your tears when they fall

ᝰ she refuses to let you go through this alone

ᝰ she helps talk through your issues

ᝰ nonstop reassuring you that everything you’re feeling is perfectly valid

ᝰ and telling you that if you’re upset, she’s upset

ᝰ and that she’ll stop at nothing to make you happy again

ᝰ in all honesty, she’s extremely inexperienced with cooking and baking

ᝰ but she figures it out just for you

ᝰ she makes you a fudge with strawberries and raspberries frozen into it

ᝰ and it’s surprisingly really good

ᝰ your tears ease as the two of you eat together in bed

ᝰ you’re still sniffling when she gently urges you to lay your head in her lap

ᝰ even when you’re this upset, she’s utterly mesmerized by you

ᝰ your lips when you chew, your cheeks, the plush of your thighs as your pajama shorts hike up your legs

ᝰ “i know it’s hard, babe. i’m here. i’m not leaving.”

ᝰ and she doesn’t

ᝰ she’s at your side for the rest of both your lives

ᝰ she holds your hand through all of your difficulties

ᝰ she always listens, always helps you with your issues

ᝰ she’ll never, ever, let you suffer on your own

ᝰ she wishes she could take your pain from you

ᝰ you’re her sun and moon

Tom

ᝰ the personification of a massive teddy bear

ᝰ when you’re upset, he’s in SHAMBLES

ᝰ he swears he can feel your pain

ᝰ he soothes you every way he knows how

ᝰ he keeps you close, rubbing his hands up and down your sides

ᝰ he makes you your favorite meals

ᝰ refuses to let you do any chores

ᝰif it was a death, he organizes these massive baskets to be delivered to everyone affected

ᝰ and the biggest one goes to you

ᝰ it has all of your favorite sweets, a bouquet of beautiful flowers, a blanket

ᝰ and a love letter detailing how you’re the strongest person he knows

ᝰ and that he loves you more than anything

ᝰ of course, he gives you space if you ask for it

ᝰ but he’s always concerned for you anyway

ᝰ he gives you your time to recover while slowly helping you along

ᝰ after a couple weeks of leaving you be and taking care of you at home, he starts making you go out with him

ᝰ “we’re getting you used to things again.”

ᝰ he stays at your side through all of it

ᝰ will always let you vent to him

ᝰ and always does his best to give you advice and help you through your issues

ᝰ every night is spent the two of you chatting about your days

ᝰ making sure the other is really okay

ᝰ his arms are always warm

ᝰ your bed even more so

ᝰ he always makes sure you’re feeling warm and fuzzy

ᝰ he just loves you so much

ᝰ he’ll never let you go cold

Greg

ᝰ when you start freaking out, he also starts freaking out

ᝰ but he gets himself together

ᝰ because you’re a big deal to him

ᝰ and he loves you

ᝰ so he’ll do everything he can to help you

ᝰ in his own way, of course

ᝰ he honestly sucks at talking you through things

ᝰ but he listens to you

ᝰ he loves listening to you

ᝰ after you tell him what’s going on, he pulls you into his arms

ᝰ he just hugs you for a while

ᝰ he doesn’t let go until you do

ᝰ and you only do that to go to the bathroom

ᝰ when you come back, he has a favorite movie of yours pulled up on the tv

ᝰ “why don’t we watch? I think you could use the brain break. relaxing is good for you.”

ᝰ he keeps you pulled tight against him

ᝰ softly stroking your hair, your neck, your shoulder

ᝰ he’s just hoping your mood is shifting

ᝰ which it is

ᝰ he’s not the best with words

ᝰ and he’s not exactly sure if what he’s doing is helping

ᝰ but bottom line, you know he cares

ᝰ and he wants to help, needs to help you

ᝰ he spends the next few days doing his best to make you feel loved

ᝰ he makes you lunch to take with you to work

ᝰ he makes sure your favorite snacks are always stocked in the pantry

ᝰ always asks things along the lines of “do you want coffee? iced tea? I’ll make anything for you” even though he doesn’t know how to cook or bake anything

ᝰ but he figures it out

ᝰ because the only thing that makes him happy is you

ᝰ and he’ll fucking die if he sees you crying again and he can’t help you

ᝰ his world revolves around you

ᝰ and he loves it that way

Stewy

ᝰ honestly, you being so viscerally upset puts him off

ᝰ his world falls off balance

ᝰ demands you tell him everything

ᝰ keeps your face sandwiched between his hands as you talk

ᝰ his eyes never leave yours

ᝰ he nods, makes soothing noises

ᝰ “okay, here’s what we’ll do. we’re going to go have fun tonight.”

ᝰ he takes you out for dinner

ᝰ the entire night he’s just like eyeing you trying to see if you’re still upset

ᝰ in reality, he’s just a smooth talker

ᝰ he has no idea how to actually get serious

ᝰ so now his efforts are put into making you feel better

ᝰ when you pick at your food, he takes your hand

ᝰ and tries to be profound

ᝰ “I know I kind of suck at this whole handling things seriously thing, but I want you to know I’ll listen to anything- everything you have to say. I don’t… you’re not going through this alone, is what I’m trying to tell you.”

ᝰ it comes out really messy

ᝰ but it’s obvious he cares

ᝰ it’s obvious he loves you

ᝰ and that in of itself makes you feel leagues better

ᝰ you decide to walk off your dinner

ᝰ you both take a stroll, hand in hand, through the streets

ᝰ the night chill is strangely calming

ᝰ but you know that’s just stewy, not actually the chill that’s making you feel at ease

ᝰ “we can try stargazing tonight.”

ᝰ “stew, all I can see when I look up is smoke.”

ᝰ because you literally live in new york

ᝰ where rats live everywhere rent free

ᝰ “we’ll just have to drive out somewhere, then.”

ᝰ he actually does

ᝰ the two of you end up in a bit of a rural area sitting in the trunk of his car

ᝰ he spread out blankets and brought pillows and everything

ᝰ he even stopped at a gas station to get you both slushees

ᝰ in the gas station you both mixed flavors

ᝰ and he keeps stealing from you

ᝰ but it’s okay

ᝰ you’re leaning against him, his fingers are in your hair

ᝰ “I’m sorry I couldn’t help more.”

ᝰ “you’re helping me lots.”

ᝰ you give him a kiss

ᝰ “your lips are all blue, stewy.”

ᝰ “the blue raspberry is just really good…”

ᝰ you turn back to the stars

ᝰ but his eyes aren’t even on the stars anymore

ᝰ they’re on you

ᝰ and if he had it his way, they’d never leave you again

[lateatnewyork]

Opposite (part two)

Part 1 | Part 2

Azriel x reader, Cassian x best friend!reader, Eris x sister!reader, Lucien x sister!reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, elain slander, two overprotective brothers, ooc nesta (idk she punches elain), making out (at the end)

Summary: Cassian winnows reader to the Autumn Court comes back to the night court and beats the ever loving shit out of Azriel. After a couple of weeks Azriel heads to the Autumn Court with Rhysand for official business, he sees reader happy without him and his heart breaks.

a/n um this is a bit late i’m sorry, i’ll tag the people who asked to be tagged but if u want to be tagged just lemme know and specify which character you want to be tagged for 🫶🏻 and i don’t know what’s treason in fae world and what’s not so bare with me

As I leave the apartment, I get startled when I see Cassian. “What are you doing here?” my voice is barely above a whisper.

“I know I can’t convince you to stay so at least let me take you to the Autumn Court,” he says his voice breaking at the end.

He grabs my hand and winnows us away.

I see the guards lining the palace, they give a slight nod at Cassian and me.

Knocking on Eris’ bedchambers. He looks startled to see me there especially with someone from Rhysand’s court.

My father, Beron, had me locked away until Eris let me out the day of his coronation. Ever since then we have exchanged letters and I have seen him and Lucien as an emissary of the Night Court.

His eyes dart from me and the big brute standing next to me. Cassian was the first to speak, “High Lord” he addresses with a curt nod.

Eris reciprocates the nod with “General Commander”.

“I’ll be off now” That’s the last thing I hear before Eris pulls me in for a hug. “What’s wrong, dove?” his voice is a soothing melody.

I pour my heart out and more to Eris as he awkwardly comforts me. The effort consoling me.

Back at the Night Court

“How could you?” Cassian punches Azriel’s face. “Cassian, stop it,” Elain begs.

Nesta scoffs at her, “Nesta, Feyre, do something,” she pleads. “Why?” Feyre asks, “You have a beautiful mate, so why would you break that poor girls heart by going after her mate,”.

Elain scoffed. “She deserved it, I mean she was so ugly why would someone pair someone like Azriel with a pig like her,”.

Feyre has barely a second to process the words that leave Elain’s mouth and how Nesta lunges at Elain.

Nesta lands punch after punch onto her face. “Cassian might not hit you but I certainly will,”.

Feyre gasps at the scene in front of her.

Her two sisters at each other’s throats while her mate’s two brothers about to kill each other.

She calls Rhysand through the bond, sighing in relief when he shows up almost immediately.

Rhysand grabs Cassian of a bloodied face she can sort of make out to be Azriel and Cassian after a while grabs his mate from the fist fight she was in.

Nesta is panting while staring at Elain, “Don’t you ever speak about her again she was a better sister than you have ever been.”

Azriel grabs a towel and wipes the blood of his face. “But Feyre, he loves me,” she says sobbing.

Feyre is about to reply when Azriel groans out, “No I don’t Elain” he continues when he sees her shocked expression. “Yeah the fucking aphrodisiac wore off,”.

He walks out the room.

A blanket of silence is thrown across the room. Rhysand is the first one to speak. “Aphrodisiac, but that’s grounds for treason,” he looks toward Feyre not wanting to throw her sister in prison without her approval.

But Feyre is already staring at her older sister. “As your High Lady, you have been sentenced to prison on grounds of treason and interference of a mating bond, how many years will be decided at the court date set next week. Guards take her away” With a nod and a flick of Feyre’s wrist, Elain disappears from the room.

Cassian takes Nesta up to their room. Feyre sighs and falls into Rhysand’s arms, “After the finalised sentence we’re going to go visit Y/N.”

3 Weeks Later

Eris had decided to bring Lucien over for a while. So while Eris had to deal with court matters, Lucien and I visited the people of the Autumn Court and baked and gardened.

The very first week was hell, I felt like shit, I would stay in my room wallowing in self pity. But then at the very end of that week. Eris barged into my room during one of my crying sessions.

He had used his High Lord voice to command me to take a shower and get ready for dinner with Lucien. Eris could be scary when he wanted and that moment was definitely one of those times.

They both tried their best to not remind me of Azriel and I appreciated their efforts.

One morning while we were eating breakfast together (Lucien had insisted that we eat breakfast and dinner together).

Lucien blurted out, “The Night Court is coming today, you know I heard some gossip about the spy-”.

He got cut off by a glare from Eris and time seemed to freeze at the mention of Azriel.

“What, ouch why are you- oh” Lucien mutters. “Sorry Y/N/N”.

“It’s ok you guys I don’t care anymore,” I assure them with a gentle smile. “Anyway what were you saying Luc?”.

“Nothing” he brushes it off nonchalantly.

An uncomfortable silence falls over us. “Luc you wanna come with me to the front gardens while Eris is off busy being a High Lord,” I say trying to break the awkwardness. He nods excitedly.

“Ok you guys have fun but stay safe,” Eris says placing a kiss on my forehead. “Don’t worry Eris safe is my middle name,” Lucien yells out laughing.

He picks me up on his back and we run to the front gardens. “Come on Luc faster,” I giggle out.

My laughs are cut short when I see Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian, Nesta and Azriel.

He looks drained out and tired but my gaze snaps from him to the others.

“Rhysand, I presume you’re here for my brother?” I say tilting my head to the side. “You would be correct,” he replies.

Lucien looks over at me. “So,” he starts “Where’s your sister?” Nesta’s gaze hardens as it flits from me to Lucien. “The other one I mean,” he rushes to correct himself. I try to hid my smile but Nesta catches it and smiles back.

“She’s actually in pri-” Cassian speaks for the first time but he gets cut off by Eris, who seems to have found us. “Rhysand I see you’ve met my family,”

They continue chatting and heading to the castle but Azriel looks broken.

Lucien and I head to the gardens, he picks out a beautiful patterned leaf but all I can think about is Azriel.

The chilly wind decided to pick up just as we sat down. Heading inside I smile when I see Lucien’s hair whipping around his face. When we reach the safety of the castle, I shoot out fire from my fingertips into the pit.

Lucien sits down in front of the sofa where I was sitting, “Y/N/N” he sings out, “Can you please braid my hair?”.

Sighing dramatically I say, “I guess”.

I brush out his beautiful red hair and braid it the way he likes. Just as I finish the braid, Eris comes out with Rhysand, Feyre and the others he guides them to the door and Eris is about to shut the door when Azriel stops him.

“Can I talk to her?”

I can feel Eris’ gaze harden and he opens his mouth to say no when Azriel whispers out a broken “please”.

I finally snap “Eris it’s fine we’ll just be five minutes,”.

We head into one of the spare bedrooms.

“I missed you”

“Time is ticking, shadowsinger” I gesture towards the clock.

He takes a deep breath, “I love you and I’m sorry but Elain is in prison for treason”.

“What for?” I question curious. “Illegal possession and misuse of aphrodisiac. And interference between a mating bond,”.

I let out a breath. “So you didn’t cheat?”.

“No” he replies confidently. “She confessed to only kissing me and she couldn’t do anything else before I found out about her using it on me,”.

So that’s what everyone was trying to tell me.

“And when was that, Azriel?” I prod. “Right after you left, Cassian beat me up” He explains.

“Cassian beat you up? I’m sorry” I whisper.

“It’s alright” he says but then a cheeky smile graces his lips, “Maybe a couple of kisses will make it better?”.

“You’re an asshole, Azriel” I mumble back with a smile. “You love it.” he says back.

“I do” I sigh.

He gives me a boyish grin before smashing his lips against mine. My hands instinctively run through his dark locks. He pushes on the bed and crawls on top of me.

Gods I missed him. As if voicing my thoughts he breaks the kiss and breathlessly mutters “I missed you,”.

I roll us over and kiss his neck, biting and sucking his tanned skin. Going back to his lips I kiss them intensely, biting his lip.

Smiling in satisfaction as he groans into my mouth.

The door swings open.

“What is taking you guys so long, did you kill him or-” Lucien shouts.

“Lucien get out!”

a/n I MISS YOUR TANNED SKIN YOUR SWEET SMILEE anyway hope this doesn’t disappoint.

Tag list: @skyrider9 @piceous21 @crazylokonugget @fxckmiup

[aeyunaa]

Toxic

Idek anymore y’all this post is kinda random so 😭💁🏻‍♂️…

Word count🍂 1.1k

Pairing🍂 san!dom x fem!reader!sub

Bdsm relationship?!

Smut warning ⚠️

Throat fucking, bondage, creampie, namecalling, degrading, spanking, oral!female receiving.

Guys the start of this seems sorta non/con…..idk y.

—————————————————🍂

It’s been a week.

52 missed calls over a hundred texts all from him, your relationship with him was difficult to define. Lovers? That couldn’t be it. You love him, he says he loves you but arguments break out every other two hours. You had enough so you left the house without him knowing and when he caught up he started blowing up your phone.

You roll your eyes and set your phone down looking up at the show playing on the tv in front of you.

Your phone starts ringing again. You think about it for a bit before answering the call last minute. “Hello?”.

“Y/n, please come home I’m not upset or anything. I just wanna talk…you can’t run away every time we have to deal with tension between us. We have to talk about it eventually. J-just come talk to me please.”

You sigh loudly before agreeing. “Fine, I’ll be over in ten.” You quickly hung up the phone. “Gosh I just made a terrible mistake didn’t I?”

10 minutes later

You felt your stomach drop to your ass when you knocked on the door. San opened it and the first thing he did was wrap both arms around your waist and pull you into a hug. “I was so worried”. You don’t say anything. After the hug San tells you that he cooked he closes the door as you walk in.

When you walk into the dining room you see the table neatly decorated with different displays and options of food items. You sat down and started eating, San was quiet, he walked behind you softly stroking the top of your head. He leaned in and he started kissing your neck leaving small purple hickeys. “S-San wait”. He softly pulls away from your neck, “look I’m sorry I left without saying anything I know I scared you, I just wasn’t thinking straight.” He nodded “I was just really worried…what you was childish…”. You cut him off “I won’t do it again”. “I know..” You didn’t know what he’d meant by that at the time.

8:00 pm evening

“Babe, can you help me really quick!” You heard San yell from upstairs so you stand up a dash up the stairs and down the hallway “can you get the remote? It fell behind the bed frame and my arms aren’t small enough to fit behind there. You nod before crawling up onto the edge of the bed, you rest the top half of your body against the silk sheets you slip your hands behind the bed and feel around after awhile you pull your hands out and grab onto the frame looking over at San who was totally staring at your ass from underneath your miniskirt. “There’s nothing there liar! You’re such a pervert!”. “Last time I checked you slept with this pervert” he grins cockily. You break character and crack a smile. He walks towards you and places a hand next to yours pressing his lips into yours. When you broke the kiss he quickly grabbed both of your wrists binding them together with the black leather belt he had on. “What are you doing?” He snuck both hands up your skirt, hooking the rim of your panties and tugging them off. The sudden coolness against your wet cunt made you shiver. “S-san?” He taps a finger on your thigh. You open your legs a bit wider allowing him a good look at your soaking heat. He smiles and cocks an eyebrow “why are you so wet already I haven’t even touched you properly yet.” His hands softly caress your ass, riding your skirt further up your body. Before you could register what he was doing, his hand rewarded your ass cheek with a hard spank. You whimper in pain as the spanking continues over and over again, landing in the same spot every time. The last spank was the hardest, you felt defeated, it’s most likely to leave a large bruise and it'd be difficult to sit comfortably for the next few days. He grabs both of your asscheeks, spreading them widely before lowering his head to meet your warmth. He slowly works his tongue through your folds and around your sensitive bud. Your body jolts forward further into the bed. He slid his tongue into you painting your walls saliva. San pulls away, licking his pretty lips clean.

“Come here..”. You sit up, back now leaning against the bed frame, he grabs your ankles pulling them towards himself laying you down properly. San reaches for his pants, unbuttoning them quickly before tugging them down with his boxers. “Now be a very good girl for me..” he crawls on top of you, setting his cock on your chin slightly rutting himself against your bottom lip. “Such a slutty little thing, you’re so much prettier with my cock on your face” he slightly pressed the head of his dick against the corner of your mouth and continued talking. “…but you'd look a little better if I just-“ with one quick thrust he managed to plant himself deep down your throat. He chuckles “wow look at that…”

His hands force your head against him once again, your nose pushed against his pelvis. It’s been going for way too long, you gag against his cock, taking all of him down your throat. your mascara runs down your cheeks through streams of tears. You look so helpless, and San is taking so much satisfaction in breaking you. He glances at you through heavy eyelids, his lips lightly parting, letting almost desperate moans and whines fall freely “fuck yess, choke on my cock slut.”. Mixtures of spit and cum coat your lips and chin. You felt you were going to faint, before you could San pulled out of your throat, resting his thick Cock on the side of your face. He flipped you into your stomach and you could feel him as he started to align himself at your entrance with one rough thrust, he was inside you. He started thrusting into your tight hole ramming into you like there was no tomorrow. He couldn’t hold on any longer.

His thrust grew faster and harder than the last. You scream his name each thrust, it makes him want to destroy you even more. The knot in your stomach grew as he repositioned, hitting your cervix with each thrust. He could feel himself getting close. Your breaths grow sharper as you clench around his cock, your back arches as you scream his name, the knot in your stomach released. “Fucckk y/n…your little cumdump just came all over my dick.” He continued thrusting into your swollen cunt. His body stiffened and you felt his warm liquid fill you up quickly spilling out of you as he pulled out. He grabs your bonded wrists and takes the belt off before pulling you into a warm hug. You were too fucked out too hug him back but he understood that, so he kissed your forehead before reaching over to the nightstand to turn off the light.

Send in your requests🙏🏻!!

[wild-lavender-rose]

Confessions

Pairing: Sam Winchester x fem!reader x Dean Winchester

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: After your boyfriend breaks up with you, your friends Sam and Dean help to put the pieces back together in a very unexpected way. 

Warnings: Reference to break up, collapse, mild language 

Note: I started this a couple years ago shortly after a break up and finally decided to finish it. It’s not my usual quality of work some of the lines feel out of character and it’s super angsty and cheesy idk but I really wanted to get it finished and out of my drafts, so enjoy? 

     Sam and Dean looked up from their vampire research when you entered the bunker, their brows furrowing with concern as they took in your glassy eyes and messed up hair. 

     “Hey,” Dean called. 

     “Hey.” You gave a nod, dropping the heavy backpack you had been carrying with a thud. 

     “You okay?” Sam was already pushing back his chair. 

     “I...” You shrugged off your jacket, gaze averting to the floor. “He...He broke up with me.” 

     “What?” The chairs squeaked as the brothers stood.  

     “He thought, with us bein’ hunters and all...Didn’t want to be each other’s weakness,” you took a step forward only to have your legs give out, causing you to sink down to the floor. “I can’t do this anymore.” 

     “Honey, woah,” Dean came around the table to kneel beside you, Sam close behind. “Easy, it’s okay.” 

     “I can never get them to stay.” You whispered, your head in your hands as Dean sat behind you and pulled you into a hug. “What's wrong with me?” 

     “It’s not you, he’s just an ass.” Sam knelt in front of you, hand resting on your leg. “Hunters suck at commitment.” 

     “I don't, you don’t.” You leaned back into Dean’s hug, tucking yourself into him as the tears began to fall. “I’m sorry,” 

     “It’s not your fault, baby.” Dean ran his hand through your hair and held you close. 

     “No, I, I shouldn’t have even tried. He said, that ass,” you shoved your sleeve across your eyes, trying desperately to regain composure. “He said that he was tired of sharing me with you and Sam. That I loved you more than him. But, I tried to tell him we were just friends, but he didn’t believe me.” You shook your head against a fresh wave of tears. “I’m such an idiot.” 

     “Why?” Sam asked, his voice soft. 

     “Because,” you looked at the floor, hot shame flooding over you. “Because it’s true.” You whispered. “I love you and I love Sam.” 

     Dean’s hand froze in your hair, his body stiffening. You could feel him looking over your head at Sam, no doubt having a whole conversation in that nonverbal brother code of theirs. You hated yourself for saying anything. Now it was all over. Your friendship would be awkward and stilted now. No stolen hugs and nights of falling asleep on their shoulders during long car rides under the guise of simple friendship. They would know your intentions now. Know that you loved them. 

    “Sorry,” you whimpered, starting to untangle yourself from the two of them. 

     The last thing you expected was for Dean’s arms to tighten around you. “Where you going, sweetheart?” 

     “To bed.” You pushed weakly at his arms, not truly wanting to escape his warmth. “Tomorrow I gotta find a spell that makes you forget what I just said,” 

     “You hear her, Sammy? Our girl wants to go to bed.” 

     “Come here,” in one smooth motion Sam pulled you into his arms and picked you up off the floor. “Whose bed do you want to be in?” 

     “Mine.” Dean grinned. “It’s got memory foam.” 

     “I don't, wait, but you,” you covered your mouth, hardly daring to breathe. “You...both of you?” 

     “From the day we met you.” Sam kissed your forehead. “Let’s get you to bed. Coming, Dean?”

     “Right behind you.” Dean got to his feet and followed you and Sam with a mischievous grin. 

And that was how the three of you started the beginning of forever. 

[simptiara]

Valentine's day with yandere! Chigiri Hyoma

class fight - Melanie Martinez

Her face was fucked up and my hands were bloody

We were in the playground, things were getting muddy

The teacher broke us up after I broke her

And my one true love called me a monster~~

TW: Chigiri being so ooc, stalking, Chigiri being slightly sadistic?, Chigiri beating someone up, use of abuse, eruption of anger, one sided crush, reader has feelings for other person, Chigiri likes to eliminate his opponents by beating them to death by fist, idk what to write anymore

*before bluelock, gn!reader goes to same school as him but different class and can put any character of your choice in (random name) space

•Imagine him waking up smiling ear to ear, filled with anticipation and excitement for the day ahead even though he stayed up late night thinking how'd he approach his crush.

•Giving you the chocolate he poured his heart in, specially made for you with all his love, the box is also carefully crafted with attention to detail.

•It's the atleast the easiest thing he could do for you, infact he would do anything for you, no matter the cost. His adoration for you knows no bounds, he hangs on your every word that he overheard, gazes at you with stars in his eyes, and would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked.

•Ever since when the life changing accident happened(his ACL) it was like a end of his reason to continue on living. He seems like don't really mind about that on the outside, keeping tough play but in the inside it was a pure mess. Plus those Wanima brothers were real irksome shits, on his already struggling self they are here to eat him with words.

•Thinking about the harsh words he heard from them, he was barely on verge of tears while finally managed to sit on the stairs where the students doesn't usually use. Sniffling, letting put silent frustrated huffs when a faint footsteps heard from his behind, him turning around to see your taken aback expression, probably from seeing someone like him in this state.

•"Must be tough. Shits happen right? But don't give up tho." awkwardly stating these words as you give him a stiff thumbs up, leaving him alone immediately. It left the one who was about to cry earlier in wonderstruck, somehow he found it cutesy that you suck at comforting people and it was apperant from your gesture towards him.

•That's how you draw his interest immediately, later then when he gets to know you were a new transfer student, running into you in school halls (but you don't even bat an single glance at him), soon it led him to get utterly devoted to you, the point where he couldn't get you out of his mind.

•Watching you silently from afar, driven even more head over heels for you, for your simple manner, unique characteristics. You stole his heart wholly in the meantime, now he just had to win yours.

•His crimson irises watched you walk into school as soon as you step in, he rushed to go after you. Being the first one to give you the chocolate along with confessing all the words he rehearsed last night, it's the day he has been longing since forever.

•But...someone already in front of you, in front of his love, well soon-to-be-his-love but who cares, seeing someone other with you is painful to his eyes. That person's face is beetroot red, hands shaking uncontrollably while holding the chocolate to you, avoiding from your eyes shyly which you softly chucked at, probably adoring their behavior he thought.

•In reality you were just in a awkward state, chuckled to not to seem so rude or stiff.

•"The fuck?" cursing under his breath, Chigiri almost crushed the box of chocolates in the grip that he wished to be around that person's throat.

•Who the fuck is that nobody to earn your attention on them so easily?

•You accepted the chocolate gracefully, tried to give them a appreciated smile when they seem to get even more shy, covering their face as ran away from you, leaving you stood dumbpounded after them.

•It bothered the pinkish-red haired individual this little that he just wanted to have a small talk with that person.

•The small talk he mean is, approach them in friendly manner and ask them if they have a minute to spare(make sure to ask it while no one's around if not, it'll be a trouble later). Then brought them to a corner outside the school where the smokers usually hang around since there is no CCTV while keeping the conversation normal to prevent them from suspecting things.

•No people in sight, perfect area. Perfect area to lung at them and beat that shit outta with his all might, turning them into bloody pulp, face fucked up too bad to can't even form a single word out.

•He wanted to be the one to confess his undying feelings for you, wanted to be the first to make you taste the chocolates that is full of his love, WANTED TO BE THE ONLY ONE FOR YOU.

•He could feel the satisfaction building inside of him to the sound of fist hitting flesh echoid through the empty alleyway, each contact with the bloody face made stomach churning disgusting slush noise.

•"Let's see if my love would spare you a glance in your disgusting pathetic state."

•Kicking them in the stomach last time, getting a weak grunt from them, he turned to take the chocolate he put far away to keep it clean from getting any dirty on it but the box got smudged by the blood on his hands anyway.

•Clicking his tongue, he headed back to school to clean himself a bit(if he's been seen like this, it'd make pretty bad fuss all over school). Since everybody in class right now, he wouldn't have to worry about running into someone right?

•So he decided to pass by your class to atleast hoping a little peek of you but right when he was about to turn the corner in the way of your class, he saw someone outside, also you leaving the class while your other classmates all hurried to doorway peeking behind you.

•Hiding himself, leaning back to the wall while hugging the box of chocolates, he took a deep breath, listening attentively to the other two teenagers, plus some hushed bickers from your other classmates.

•"Oh, (Random name)!" you voice held a light cheerful tone within can be heard and as soon as Chigiri recalled who it might be, his heart dropped straight down to his guts. The name of the one he overheard about you having a crush on them.

•Peeking from the corner to take a clear look of the situation, it only made his already unstable mind even more ruined. You looking at your crush in awe as they held out a massive bouquet of your (favourite flower or snacks idc), your friends and classmates has been shipping you two, are cheering and congrulating to the new couples that almost every person has eyes and ears knew the power couple potential between you two.

•"From the first day that you transfered here and i laid my eyes on you," your so-called crush starts to open their heart, heat rose up to your cheeks when Chigiri felt himself unconsciously moving on his own, just a moment ago he was behind the wall and now straddling on top of the teenager.

•In a switch of second, your eyes slightly widened upon seeing the ex-football prodigy appearing in front of you so suddenly while tossing the box he was carrying something in his arms to the floor. Not just that... with bloody knuckles and splattered few drops of red on his face... landing merciless punch on the (random name).

•Who would have believed if someone with such slim and frail looking like him could use such strength, with each landed punch, his body shook with determination and his eyes blazed with an intensity that seemed almost inhuman.

•"Is that the Chigiri Hyoma?", "The one who used to play football?" playful teasing bickers turned into shocked even more louder when the students from other classmates burst out their classes cause of the sudden commotion. "Is that a fight?", "Break them out!"

"Chigiri Hyoma...?" you mumbled out while processing the flash of events, still shocked from the thing just happened in front of you. Boys were quick to take the red-haired boy away from the bloody mess he made in just few seconds, leaving (random name) struggled to get up and breathe but seems like Chigiri had already broke their nose.

"Yes! It's me! The one and only love of your life!" while desperately tried to break free from the other boys holding him back, he spoke out shamelessly, trying jump into you and engulf you into his warm embrace but you took a few steps back out of horrification.

With knotted eyebrows twitching in disgust, you glared at him with tint of hateful in your lovely eyes that sent pang to his little heart, made him realize what he had done and even stopped struggling against the hold. You kept on the threathening glare while crouching down to the teenager he was just beating, gently embracing their head.

"Are you okay?" you talk softly with the one on the floor whilst putting their head on your lap in support, one hand holding their hand, other hand caressing their face.

"What a cold-blooded monster..." you bluntly said straight to his face cruelly, entirely shattering his little fragile heart. He felt like he is losing another reason to live again yet the frustration inside him grew even more darker.

"T-trouble with b-breathing..." hatchy breath left the person you holding gently, you frowned at them. Your soft gaze benevolenced the one in your hold as looked up once again to meet with crimson pink eyes,

Maybe this time he'll let you act whatever you want but soon you'll learn to love him... even if means using force on you.

i put isagi on the (random name) space bcz i love him???

posted on my yandere chigiri x malereader fanfic as a Valentine's special chapter (on wattpad) as well.

first time trying to write scenaria? oneshot? style idk whatever is, it's not something fit for me write😭😭😭(i hate it sm)

I APOLOGIZE FOR WRITING CHIGIRI SO OUT OF CHARACTERR🙏🙏🙏

[cheri-2047]

can you write a hurt/comfort Kaveh x reader where the reader feels insecure because they don't have any talents or passions and Kaveh reassures them that they deserve to be loved even without those, and if they want, he'd help them find something they like doing that makes them happy

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG !!! I had writers block 😔 anyways thanks for requesting :3 (idk how to title this do I just made it comfort)

Kaveh x Reader comfort

TAGS: mentions of alcohol, fluff

CHARACTERS: kaveh, mentions of alhaitham

BEFORE READING THIS:

I’m gonna make it so Kaveh and Alhaitham are still roommates, it’s just alhaitham allows you to stay over and stuff because you and alhaitham are friends too.

The scenario for this is you and kaveh were drinking and you accidentally say things you didn’t mean to say while drunk. (Alhaitham isn’t at home right now)

Lately you’ve been feeling down, but you didn’t want to tell it to kaveh because you felt like it would only make you a burden, that is until you accidentally let it all out one night.

“Cheers!”

Kaveh said, bringing his drink up to yours. You two haven’t seen each other in awhile, due to personal reasons such as him having multiple projects, but now that it’s over, you two decided to celebrate.

You two had been drinking for the past hour, your cheeks only getting more and more flushed per sip.

“Finally that project was over! That client kept wanting me to change things, it went from him saying it needed ‘minor changes’ to the point that he changed almost everything!”

Kaveh exclaimed, taking more sips from his cup.

“Anyways, how are you?”

He turns to you, noticing your flushed cheeks.

“Drunk already? Hmm… but it’s only been your third drink!”

He laughed, before noticing your sullen expression.

“Hey if you want to go to bed you can… I’ll wash the cups don’t worry”

When you didn’t stand up, kaveh placed a hand to your shoulder.

“Love?”

“Stop…stop calling me that”

He looked at you with a worried expression, gently cupping your cheek.

“What’s wrong?”

You buried your head in your arms, after taking a sip of the wine.

“You…I don’t deserve you… “

Kaveh frowned, setting his hand that was on your cheek to your shoulder.

“And what brought you to that conclusion?”

“Forget it”

You mumbled before taking more sips.

“No no please y/n, what’s wrong? Is it cause of my projects?”

The thing is, it was because of his projects, not because you weren’t spending time with him, but because you can’t help but feel like you’ll never be as talented as he is.

You hated how you made yourself feel bad about it, it’s not like kaveh said anything or anyone did. It was truly your own mind.

Kaveh noticed your silence, he felt guilty even though he didn’t do anything wrong.

“I’m sorry I’ll spend time with you more I swear! I promise y/n”

He said as I tilted your chin to look at him.

“That’s not it”

You mumbled.

“I’m not good like you… I don’t have any passions, I can’t do anything well, I don’t feel good about myself. I feel useless”

Why were you even telling him these? You don’t know. To your surprise, you kept talking.

“How could you possibly love someone as useless as I am? I can’t do anything at all!”

Kaveh set both your drinks aside.

“Please look at me”

He muttered, before hugging you tightly.

“I love you very much, I don’t think you’re useless at all. I think quite the opposite. I think you’re amazing, the way you’re so kind and caring…I love you.”

He rubbed your back comfortingly, looking at you with a frown.

“I think you’re more than enough love…”

He pulled you closer, burrying his face on the top of your head.

“And plus…there’s no rush, it’s okay, it’s everyone’s first time living…”

He cradled you in his arms

“If it makes you feel better, maybe I can help you? I know I’ve liked art since I was a kid, but I’ll do anything in my power to help you.”

He gave you a reassuring smile.

“I think you’re wonderful, I love you so much.”

To his surprise, when he looked down at you, you had already fallen asleep in his arms. Most likely due to you being drunk.

He presses a kiss to your head and carries you to his bedroom.

—

The next morning, he’s already prepared with stuff you two could try, and if you tell him that you feel bad for “wasting his time” he will always say no and that he loves you

Thank you for requesting! So sorry if this was mischaracterized or I wrote reader a bit weird 😞 I hope ure okay tho!! Just a reminder that everyone deserves to be loved <3

THIS WASNT PROOFREAD !!

[flowersbane]

a scenario with a baker!reader gifting Joshua a little cake… which he happily eats (it’s carrot cake and he has no clue lol)

Idk but I wanted to share my silly little thought because I enjoyed your writing :’3

pls, this idea is so freaking cute!!! i'm so glad i finally got to write it, thank you so much for your request and patience, i hope you enjoy

(=´∀｀)人(´∀｀=)

The Trojan Cake

Joshua Rosfield x Reader

I might write another, shorter version of this where the reader bakes him a carrot cake without knowing about his carrot aversion, but, idk, let me know if anyone wants to see that. It would have to be a bit further in the future because I have some other things I'm working on that you can learn about here.

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 1.5k

Tags: Baker!Reader, Finally Getting Joshua To Eat Some Gosh Darn Vegetables, Fluff, Teasing, Unedited, Lots Of Appearances From Other Characters, Fun, Cutesy, Joshua Is Just A Big Golden Retriever

A new shipment of baking supplies was due to arrive today. You sway on your feet as you wait. Water laps at the wood beneath you, but you pay it no mind. Cursebreakers and laborers work on moving boxes off the ship and onto the Hideaway’s Pier.

“Carrots? Again?” Gav’s voice sounds from nearby. “And what are we supposed to do with all of these? We still haven’t gotten through the last shipment of them. There’s only so much carrot bisque a man can stomach. Soon enough, half the Hideaway’ll have orange hair and orange skin.”

Otto sighs. “Food’s food, Gav. We’ll find some use for them.”

Gav’s disgruntled expression doesn’t fade. “Unbelievable.”

Your attention is caught by someone calling your name. Mid waves you over from the ship’s deck. “You’ve got to come and see this! You’ll be grinning from ear to ear when you see how much stuff they’ve sent for you!”

You’re already grinning from ear to ear by the time you reach her side. Crates of flour, sugar, and yeast are tied down to the deck with sturdy rope. “And this is all for me?” you ask.

“You’re the one best suited for it,” Mid points out. “Now, I don’t mean to rush you but I’m pretty sure everyone at the Hideaway can already smell all the fresh baked sweets!”

“Oh, certainly,” Cole agrees as he and a handful of other Cursebreakers approach. “We’ll get these supplies to the Ale Hall,” he assures you.

“What are you going to make?” asks Mid.

You miss a beat before answering, “it’s a surprise.” In truth, you have no idea. You know the people of the Hideaway would be happy with anything you baked, but you didn’t want to fall into a boring routine. You wanted to try something new, even if you didn’t need to.

Mid only makes an excited sound from behind sealed lips. “The suspense is killing me!”

You laugh, but you know how she feels. The frustration of not knowing what you’ll bake weighs on you as well. “Well, best get to it.”

You descend from the boat and make your way back up to the main floor of the Hideaway. There are plenty of boxes that still need to be moved, so the lift is somewhat crowded. You wait for a path to be cleared before darting out.

“Have you tried chopping them up and hiding them in a stew?” Tarja’s voice catches your ear. She and Jote are crossing the Boarding Deck, clearly on their way to the Infirmary.

“If he sees them, he’ll claim he’s not hungry and refuse to eat,” Jote replies. “Not to mention, I can’t say I feel very comfortable trying to deceive His Grace.”

“They’re just carrots, Jote. I’m sure your decree says nothing against ensuring the Phoenix eats well.”

“If it were up to His Grace, I’m sure there would be.”

You continue your way into the main hall. It’s not uncommon to hear Tarja complaining about Joshua’s bad habits. You suppose this time it’s his aversion to vegetables. Especially carrots. Unfortunate, given that seems to be what the Hideaway has most of these days.

You’re halfway across the Main Deck when someone else calls your name, their voice sounding from your left. Speak of the devil. Joshua approaches with an easy skip to his step. The smile on his face tells you that he’s heard about your new arrival of supplies, but not that of the carrots’ reinforcements. Well, he might’ve and is simply choosing to ignore it. In fact, that is more likely to be the reality of things.

“I heard about the shipment of goods. Will you get to baking soon?”

If he were a dog, his tail would be wagging uncontrollably despite his cool disposition. You nod, your own smile creeping onto your face as an idea begins to form. “And you’ll be the first to get a taste.”

“Really? I will?”

You nod again. He’s always terribly eager to sample your new recipes.

He’ll have no idea. “Ah, my love, you’re brilliant.” He places a hand on either side of your head and plants a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll look forward to it.”

“You should.” You certainly are.

As he disappears on to the Boarding Deck, you dart over to the bar. 

“Psst. Cole.” You wave the cursebreaker over.

“What is it?”

“Could you acquire me a crate of those carrots that just arrived? I have plans for them. Oh, but don’t let Joshua know. Keep this between us.”

He gives you a curious look, but does as you ask without question. You ask another of the cursebreakers to keep Joshua distracted for the time being. Your plans would be ruined if he were to walk in midway through.

“What, exactly, are you planning?” someone asks from behind you.

Jill runs her finger over the wooden boxes on the counter. You can’t help the little, proud gleam in your eye. “I’m going to get Joshua to eat carrots and like them,” you declare.

“Oh?”

“A carrot cake! He won’t even know they’re there.”

“I’m not sure if eating carrots in a cake counts as Joshua getting a proper intake of vegetables,” she points out.

You shrug. “Gotta start somewhere.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“Lots.” 

You, Jill, and a handful of other helpers get to work immediately. With no time to waste, the work is made lighter with more hands to share in its labor. The only thing you can’t speed up is the time of actual baking.

“Do you truly believe this will work?” Jill asks.

“I do. Although, it would be a little funny if he could tell anyway. Like some sort of carrot-sniffing bloodhound. A carrot-hound.”

“Who’s a carrot-hound?” Clive stops at Jill’s side.

“Depending on the results of this experiment, Joshua.”

Clive gives you an almost pained look. “Please do not tell me you’re planning on experimenting on my brother.”

“I promise it won’t become a regular occurrence. Probably. Most likely.”

Clive only sighs and shakes his head.

The cakes finish baking and the air is filled with the scent of freshly baked sweets. You and your assistants–now including Clive–are just finishing spreading the frosting when Joshua arrives, eyes alight with excitement. He says your name with a boyish eagerness that makes your heart squeeze. He truly has no idea. “I hope no one has prevented you from keeping your promise to me.”

You do your best not to roll your eyes. He can still be so childish at times, despite himself. “No, of course not. In fact, you’re just on time. I was about to cut the first slice.”

He smiles. “Excellent.”

He doesn’t even seem to notice how everyone pauses to watch as he takes the first bite. He closes his eyes to savor it. You press your lips together to keep your mischief from showing. “This is delicious, my love, as always.” Your heart soars. You’ve done it. And he’s none the wiser.

You exchange a knowing glance with Jill and Clive. Jill looks mildly impressed while Clive simply seems to be marveling at his brother’s obliviousness. “Alright, everyone,” you announce, “you’re all free to dig in!”

- 

Gav arrives about a half an hour after everyone has already begun eating. He and Otto approach, standing on the other side of Clive, who has taken a seat at the bar beside Joshua.

Gav takes note of the remaining cakes. “Ooo, carrot cake, one of Otto’s favorites.”

You, Clive, and Jill freeze, eyes darting to Joshua. You practically see the life drain from his face. He turns a betrayed expression on you, like a pup who’s found his medicine at the center of his treat. By now, he’s already finished two large slices and is halfway through his third. You can’t help, you begin your apologies but the laughter in your voice steals any sincerity from them.

He practically whines your name, saying, “how could you?”

“But you liked it, didn’t you? Before you knew what it was?”

You can practically see his invisible tail and ears drooping. You’ve never seen him look so unlike the Phoenix before. It only makes you giggle more.

“I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know how I’ll recover from this.”

“Alright, my love, no need to be so overdramatic.”

He pouts. He actually pouts. “You’ll have to find a way to make this up to me.”

“Up to you? I did all of this for you.”

“You did all of this for yourself. I hope you’ve had your fun.”

You lean over the counter, smug as one could be. “Oh, I have.”

“Mhm.” He leans forward and places a soft kiss on your lips. You can still taste the frosting. “You better have. Otherwise, I will have eaten this for nothing.”

“You would have, at the very least, learned that you can stomach carrots. Isn’t that something?”

He laughs. “No, absolutely not. Just promise you won’t do something like this again.”

“I promise,” you draw out the word, “that it won’t become a regular occurrence.”

He rolls his eyes, but a smile toys at the corners of his mouth. “What did I ever do to deserve this?”

“Something really good, I imagine.”

His smile grows. “Must have been.”

[makuzume]

Genshin HCs on how they text their s/o?

Genshin Men Texting their s/o Headcannons (Part 1)

Characters: Neuvilette, Itto, Childe, Ayato

Content: GN! reader; Genshin AU; established relationship; slightly suggestive (Ayato only)

[Masterlist] [Part 2]

💙Neuvilette💙

He has a very formal way of texting: well structured, complete with commas, semi-colomns, dashes, and quotation marks. It's not that he doesn't feel close with you to speak more casually, it's just that it's his natural way of speaking/texting (he already thought he was using casual texting).

Apologizes a lot if you comment on his manner of texting and might try to make it a bit more 'casual,' though it felt too off when he tried it, so you asked him to just text what he's comfortable with.

Sometimes asks you the slang terms used in the newer generation. "Dear, what does sjfskflak stand for? You mentioned that yesterday and I could not find the definition for it." Or even "Dear, what is U.W.U.? Is that some organization from Sumeru? It sounds quite familiar."

He will react to the Reels/TikToks you send him, though he says he will get back to it later on his free time (he always remembers).

There are times when he completely gets drowned in his worked and hasn't said goodnight to you or view your texts the whole night (He apologizes the next day.) Though his instinct is to always greet you good morning once he sees the sun peeking through his window, it's a reminder for him, and he never missed a day to say "Good morning, my dearest. Did you sleep well last night?"

💛Arataki Itto💛

Reading his texts feel loud and lively, it's chaotic- a lot of times he uses uppercase letters, stickers, GIFs, and emojis to express his emotions even further. It's like you can really hear his voice when he texts.

Replies with silly stickers and meme reactions when he's either reading your messages or when he talks about something.

Will literally send his entire IG/Tiktok feed of memes or cool stuff to you.

Typos and wrong spellings all the time.

Itto will update you constantly, he'll send practically everything that reminds him of you "this beetle has ur vibe idk y" or anything mildly interesting that he's doing because you're also his bff got slushies but soem brat ran into me snd spillde it"

Expect constant facetiming for him to show you random stuff, tell a story that just happened, if he's bored, when he's walking through a dark alley and is secretly scared, or if he feels lonely while taking a dump for too long. He's also the type to make silly faces or poses when you accept his call.

He always finds a way to make the most mundane things sound like such s story to tell.

When he feels that your mood isn't vivbing that day, he will always try to lighten the mood through memes or tell you to "lay it on me, my campadre" and do whatever he can think of to cheer you up when he makes a surprise visit (comes over that night with your favorite snack, holding a flower in his mouth, and giving you a rizzed up look to make you smile)

You change his name too frequently it gets confusing sometimes (recent names: beetle dude, Gordon Ramslay, Deoderant, CheesePuff, Guy from McDonalds)

🧡Childe/Tartaglia🧡

There could only exist one: He's either incredibly busy from work and unresponsive for hours/days or he suspiciously has too much free time to be replying a little too quickly to your messages. (He lets you know beforehand if he will be inactive for a while)

Loves using every cute, funny, sweet pet name when texting you. His personal favorite is either babe or one of the many funny ones he can think of like sweet thang, boss, nerd, etc. (if that doesn't offend you)

When he does respond after being gone for days- Childe will send the most random, out of context photos of what he's been up to recently, out of no where (Photo of him on the top of a skyscraper antena, inside a submarine, Mt. Everest, an illegal substance den-) Often this is because this is where his work usually takes him and at the very moment he was done with work he figured he'd text you.

Sends screenshots from chats with his siblings or send photos about his family, talks about them A LOT.

Happy to open his phone and see your messages and see the links you sent, he's just excited to talk to you. He will go "US", "lmaoo", or "FR" and if you send a nice place from a reel/tiktok, he will book a reservation right away to surprise you that week.

INSTANTLY replies the moment he gets a notification from you even if he's at work. (except during those long, complicated missions where he says he will be inactive) you were confused one time where he would view your message, leave you on read for a minute, and reply (you found out later that he was in the middle of beating up some people in their headquarters who owed them money)

💜Ayato💜

Calls you sweetheart, darling, my love, and every other affectionate name. He isn't shy to say anything to you through texts. He's sweet and lets you know exactly how he feels.

Loves teasing you in a subtle, flirty way in his texts, it his way of showing his attraction and affection towards you. Sometimes, he does this during a time when you're outside or if you're out with another guy just to make sure you're reminded that only he knows how to make you blush. Imagining your reactions also amuses him (he knows exactly what to say to make you flusterred and embarassed)

Sends photos of things Ayaka made and things Ayaka she did recently because he acts like a proud grandfather when it comes to her.

Asks you to send photos of yourself when he feels particularly clingy or misses you

There are days he forgets to reply the entire day/night because of his insane workload- but remembers you the next day when he wakes up and realizes 'no wonder my day felt incomplete yesterday': He didn't get to talk to his sweet beloved.

Sometimes texts can get a little more flirty and turn a bit spicy

You get texts from him asking you to check your door (he sends you food and flowers to spoil you and make you smile).

[note: I'm no Itto simp but fave one I made was his]

Check out my other works [Masterlist]