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suspiciouslackofclowns · 1 month

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Regardless of how many times Eddie has made a complete ass of himself, he’s never let himself be perceived as soft.

It was easier when he lived with his uncle — the boys would come over for game night, or to rehearse for their next gig, and they wouldn’t ask him uneasy questions.

Even after he came out about his relationship.

For them, he assumed, it was out of sight and out of mind. Eddie still had loads of free time to dedicate to his friends, so there wasn’t really much to address.

The first incident happened on the three month anniversary of when he got together with his partners, which of course happened to fall on a night he had a session of D&D to attend. His request to push the game back until the next day was denied profusely until he shrugged and through gritted teeth said, painfully, that he would just have to miss the game if they wanted to carry on with it so badly.

So the game got pushed back. And when Eddie showed up that next day, he was greeted with an intervention rather than snacks and beer.

Ever since then, after the handful of ignored calls and cancelled band practices that followed, he’s mostly been able to skirt by with his friends without issue.

Then he had to go and move in with his boyfriends like some lovesick loser, as Gareth had put it when he first found out.

Eddie’s enjoyed the freedom of having a newer, slightly larger living space. He likes not having to go home and sleep alone, or sneak into someone else’s bed just to have to sneak back out before dawn.

It makes him feel soft, which makes him feel pathetic.

Which is why his skin is crawling at the thought of hosting in the new place for the first time.

He makes sure the fridge is stocked with beer, that there’s an array of snacks to choose from on the counter, and he has a selection of rentals from Family Video lying on the coffee table.

None of that stops the air from going tense and heavy when his friends show up.

They’ve abstained from asking questions about his relationship thus far, but the temptation must grow impossible to ignore when they step into the house and see evidence that it’s real. That Eddie moved all of his shit into another place and he’s serious about it.

That it’s clearly not just hooking up or whatever like he’s been saying for forever.

It’s for real and there’s the faint beat of water against tile from somewhere at the back of the house, the only noise aside from the stagnant tension in the air.

Eddie bounces his leg restlessly, tapping the neck of his beer bottle with his index finger as he stares down at the untouched tapes on the coffee table. Anxiously waiting for the inevitable.

“Where’re your guitars?” Gareth asks, and then clears his throat. “Thought you’d have ‘em hanging up in here.”

“They’re in the bedroom.”

Gareth nods. He’s slouching on the sofa, arm draped over the back of it as he looks around.

“Who picked out the fugly carpet and matching curtains?”

Eddie purses his lips when Grant and Jeff both snicker.

“Steve, uh, likes flannel.”

“Are those your posters?” Grant asks.

“Those are Billy’s, actually.” Eddie glances over at the wall behind the tv, featuring everything from Dolly Parton to Jimi Hendrix, and he spreads a little smile. “Well, the ABBA poster is Steve’s, but we keep telling him it’s not a permanent addition.”

“Where are your posters at?” Grant asks.

Eddie looks at him, perched next to Gareth on the couch, and nods his head toward the back of the house.

“Bedroom.”

“Do you have anything of yours out here? Or is it all in the room?” Jeff asks.

The question sounds accusatory. Eddie almost winces at the word bedroom, like referring to it as the room reinforces the fact that he shares a bed.

He would give almost anything for that little bit of information to not be processed. Hell, he’d give anything for this conversation to be over and done with.

It would save him the embarrassment.

“I mean, most of my shit was out of my room at Wayne’s, so it doesn’t really fit with the rest of the—“

“Why don’t you have the guitars out here? Seems kind of impractical to have them in your bedroom,” Gareth interrupts. “Not enough room to jam.”

Eddie swipes his thumb in a circle around the rim of his beer.

“Not really enough wall space.”

Jeff blows a raspberry and chuckles. The mismatched armchair that he’s sitting in almost looks like it’s about to swallow him whole.

“There’s a fucking decorative skateboard rack on the wall, but you couldn’t put your guitars up?”

“Oh, those aren’t decorative, Billy skates. He’s actually pretty g—“

“Did they at least let you help pick out furniture or anything?”

“Yeah, this stuff doesn’t really seem like it’s your style,” Grant adds.

Quickly, the three of them are attaching their inputs and observations together like train cars, one after the other, and Eddie’s vision goes hazy as he tunes them out.

Thinly-veiled insults here, passive aggression there.

Vaguely, in the background, the water stops running. How Eddie can still pick that up, he has no idea, but he can feel his ears quirk when the blow dryer starts whirring. Then his head is turning when he hears footsteps.

The chatter stops immediately when a figure emerges from the bedroom.

Steve pads out with a towel around his waist, hair wet and slicked back, and makes a direct line for the kitchen counter. Ignores the eyes that are lingering on him as he pulls a drawer open and unearths a pack of smokes and a lighter.

When he shakes a cigarette out and hastily lights it, pulling the smoke into his lungs, his eyes flick up to meet several gazes. All but Eddie turn their heads away.

Steve huffs amusedly. Drops everything back into the drawer and shuts it, crossing the small distance into the living room.

Eddie laments the fact that the blow dryer is still audibly running — Billy and Steve obviously showered together, and it makes Eddie want to go lie down in the street. Even more so when Steve comes to stand beside the recliner and Eddie’s eyes linger on the droplets of water dripping down his chest.

“Thought you were havin’ movie night,” Steve says, cigarette pinched between his lips.

He combs his fingers loosely into Eddie’s hair, and the other brunet exhales a stiff sigh as he tilts his head back to rest against the top of the recliner.

“We are,” Eddie says. “Giving a metaphorical, verbal tour of the house.”

Steve hums. Blows smoke through his nose and smiles, and Eddie swears he can feel the warmth of it on his skin.

“Well, be careful if you take a literal tour. I don’t think I’ll be able to wrangle Bill back into clothes tonight.”

He plucks the cigarette from his mouth with his free hand and leans down to press a kiss to Eddie’s forehead before he pulls away. It spurs a surge of unwelcome butterflies in the pit of Eddie’s stomach.

“‘Kay.”

Then Steve takes his leave, retreating back into the bedroom. Eddie’s gaze lingers on the cracked door, listening for the muffled sounds of arguing when Billy sees that his stash has been robbed. A little smile quirks at the corners of Eddie’s lips.

He almost forgets for a moment that he’s not at home with just his partners.

“What was that about?” Gareth asks.

Eddie returns his gaze to the sofa and quirks a brow.

“What was what about?”

“The way he came in here.”

A beat of silence passes. Eddie shrugs.

“I mean, we’re all guys, I didn’t think it was weird that he came out in a towel,” he says.

“No, the way he came in here to check on you. Right out of the shower, like he was jealous and couldn’t even bother to dry off first.”

Now, Eddie sputters out a laugh, but he sobers and clears his throat when all three of his friends fix him with nothing but serious expressions.

“Are you serious?” he asks.

“Seemed like he was trying to signal that he didn’t want us here, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Jeff adds. “Like, asking if it was movie night when he already knows? He was basically saying that if we don’t start a movie right away, we might as well leave.”

“Textbook manipulation,” Grant says.

Eddie can’t help that he laughs.

“Holy shit, is there a gas leak in here or something? What the fuck are you guys talking about?”

The three of them all exchange glances, and suddenly, he’s at that bullshit intervention again.

“First,” Gareth begins. Glances over his shoulder to ensure that no one else is listening before he turns back to Eddie, lowering his voice. “They don’t let you put any of your stuff up, and now they can’t even let you be alone with your friends for half an hour before one of them interrupts? How do you not see what they’re up to?”

“Yeah, Eddie, you need to remember your roots. We always hated people like them,” Grant says.

“Them?” Eddie huffs.

“Preps,” Jeff says. “And once a prep, always a prep. They’ll choose each other over the freak every time.”

While Eddie is stared at expectantly, he simply breathes. In and out. In and out. Listens to his blood running in the shells of his ears, like the distant sound of the ocean.

Thinks about how this is so much worse than it was last time, and he swears he can see himself in the third person, sitting in the recliner.

Each second that passes is two seconds lost.

“Did you guys, like, rehearse this before you came over?” he muses, though there’s no humor in his voice. “I mean, what the fuck are you even saying to me right now? That because the shit from my high school bedroom isn’t plastered all over the walls, and Steve gave me a kiss, that I’m in some kind of toxic environment? Do none of you realize how insane that sounds?”

“Dude, you’ve been calling whatever this is a fling and shit for the past like six months!”

Eddie shakes his head and tsks, sitting up and moving to the edge of his seat. About to say fuck it and kick them all out the front door.

“You just seem like you’re rushing in, and we don’t want you to get hurt,” Jeff says.

“Yeah,” Grant adds. “We’re telling you this because we care, man.”

Almost as if it’s by the flick of a switch, Eddie zaps back into his body, and he grits his teeth. Shoots up out of his seat and furrows his brows, veins fixing to pop if he so much as breathes too deep.

“Ever think that maybe I’ve been taking it seriously the whole time? Maybe I just didn’t talk about it in front of you guys because I didn’t want to get made fun of?” Eddie confesses. “I really… I really like my boys. I love them. I love waking up and getting to have morning cuddles with Billy while Steve makes pancakes, and I love the way our place is decorated. Maybe it says something about you guys that my fucking safe haven is with the preps, when you’re supposed to be my people.”

Eddie heaves a sigh once he’s done and sweeps a hand over his face, suddenly so drained that he isn’t sure how many counts he stares at the carpet for. Limbs shaking, heart thundering like he just ran ten miles.

When he looks up, all he sees are ghost-white faces staring back up at him. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spies figures in the doorway of the bedroom.

He looks over, immediately flushing red.

Steve stands there in an ugly pair of plaid pajama pants, and Billy is behind him, shrouded in a white robe with the letter E embroidered on the collar.

Earlier, Eddie might’ve blown a fuse over the small detail, worried about how it implies that they share clothes, or worse, that they have three matching bathrobes with their initials on them. Right now, he couldn’t give less of a shit.

Not when both of them are looking at him with glassy eyes.

He stares, dumbfounded by what he just said for a long, long moment. Unsure if he’s sleeping on the couch tonight or if he’s getting the ride of his life once it’s lights out.

“Did you just say that you love us?” Steve rasps.

His chin trembles, and from behind him, Billy chuckles as he sets a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I did,” Eddie says.

Steve clears his throat and nods.

“I love you too,” he manages.

The tension relaxes out of Eddie’s shoulders, and he smiles as he sets his half-empty beer down on the coffee table.

“It’s okay, baby, you don’t have to pretend to be all stoic about it,” he says with a chuckle. “C’mere.”

Steve immediately crosses the room and moves into a hug when Eddie opens his arms around him, moisture overflowing his red-rimmed eyes. Steve is warm, and he smells fresh. Like clean laundry and sandalwood. Eddie holds him tighter and tucks his face into the bend where his shoulder meets his neck.

For a moment, it’s just the two of them. Eddie kisses his skin, and with every press, he hopes Steve hears the silent I’m sorry I waited so long that accompanies it.

Then Eddie rests his chin on his partner’s shoulder and sighs. Shifts his gaze to where Billy meanders into the room and stops behind the sofa, leaning his elbows against the back of it.

Suddenly, Eddie remembers that they aren’t alone, and the tension in the rest of the room is almost tangible outside of the little bubble he’s in.

Gareth, seated right in front of where Billy leans, is frozen in his seat. Doesn’t move, even when the blond reaches an arm down to touch the label of his vest and examine the closest pin.

Because even in the poofy white robe, with his curls fresh and fluffy, Billy breathes intimidation.

“I know about everything,” he says softly. Flicks playfully at the pin before he pulls his hand away, folding his arms and resting his chin atop them. Conversational. “If you keep it up, Corroded Coffin will be disbanded, and you’ll lose your dungeon master. Stevie advocates for Edd to hang out with you guys constantly, but I don’t fucking like you, and I don’t want you in my house if you’re gonna spew nothin’ but nonsense.”

Gareth, eyes wide, looks to Eddie. A silent plea for help, or for backup of any kind.

Eddie simply raises his eyebrows, hands smoothing over Steve’s back.

“If you don’t want me in your house… then why am I here?” Gareth asks.

“Because I ignored my gut even though I smelled bullshit, hoping to be proven wrong. Back talk me again and I’ll beat your skinny ass.” Billy chews his lip, mulling something over in silence for a moment. “Movie night’s cancelled.”

Steve sniffles and leans away from Eddie, his eyes mostly dry as he turns and fixes the blond with a tired look.

“Bill.”

When Billy simply holds up a finger, Steve rolls his eyes.

“And go ahead and give me twenty push-ups.”

“What?” Grant asks, looking to Eddie. “He’s joking, right?”

Eddie shrugs. Laces his arms around Steve’s waist from behind and leans into him, nosing fondly at his freshly-dried hair.

“I don’t personally know him to be funny.”

Billy chuckles at that.

“Drop and give me twenty or I drop you off in the middle of the woods naked, how ‘bout that?” he lilts. There’s a brief second of anticipation before Gareth decidedly slides out of his seat, and the others do the same. Billy hums in approval as they all get on all fours and assume the position. “No girl pushups, either, knees off the ground. And I’m gonna need an out-loud count.”

Gareth lowers his chest to the ground, arms already beginning to shake as he manages a strangled, “One…”

Jeff and Grant echo him. Billy pushes himself up away from the sofa and rounds the side of it, coming to stand beside the couple.

“Two…”

“I love you too, by the way,” Billy murmurs. Reaches up to brush his knuckles lightly against Eddie’s cheek before he leans in to meet him in a quick kiss. “Missed you in the shower.”

Eddie chuckles.

“Three…”

“It’s too cramped for all three of us in there.”

“Don’t care.”

Billy tilts into another kiss, his thumb tracing the cut of Eddie’s jaw all the while.

“I’m glad you like the way our place is decorated,” Steve says. “Dustin and Rob gave me so much shit when they came to help set stuff up.”

“Four…”

“I like the curtains and the rug… reminds me of sneaking into your old room,” Eddie says.

“That fucking wallpaper used to give me headaches, I’d only fuck in there if it was dark,” Billy snickers.

The three of them share a laugh. Then, Billy glances down at the floor and purses his lips when there’s silence.

“They made it to four,” Steve whispers.

“Just four? Pity.” Billy claps his hands together a few times. “Up, ladies, let’s go.”

The three boys on the floor push themselves up, faces flushed red. Gareth brings a hand up to his chest and rubs near his shoulder, walking warily toward the front door when Billy steps over to it and grabs the handle.

“Are you… are you really gonna take us to the woods naked?” he wonders.

Billy makes a face, like that’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard, and pulls the door open.

“No, man, just go home. Get naked there if you want, I don’t care.”

At the words, Gareth and the others look confused, but they file outside anyway. Then Billy shuts the door behind them and locks the deadbolt before he sighs.

“You’re so mean,” Steve murmurs.

“I like assertive better,” Billy says. Closes in behind Eddie and sandwiches him between his partners, hands moving around their waists and pulling them back against him. “Plus, I wasn’t really gonna kick any of their asses. Unless you wanted me to.”

The last part is murmured softly into Eddie’s ear, and he gets goosebumps.

“Got the job done,” Eddie sighs. “I feel like I just came out for the first time again.”

“Give it a couple weeks, they’ll wanna come back again when they’ve had time to think about the stuff you said,” Steve reassures.

Eddie snorts.

“Maybe if we put Billy down for a nap before they come over.”

“Hey, I’m so nice until you upset one of my boys. Then I turn into Queen Bitch, and I go for the throat,” Billy huffs. Sets his chin in the crook of Eddie’s neck and pouts. “Also, fuck you, I’m funny.”

The brunet hums at that and tilts their heads together.

“I was kidding.”

“And I’m not a prep. If anything, it’d be me and you against him.”

Steve scoffs, and Eddie snickers.

“Hey, it’s us against the world, alright? Me and my lovers,” Eddie lilts.

He pinches softly at Steve’s sides, causing the other brunet to squirm away and pry himself free. Steve shakes his head amusedly and sits down on the sofa, grabbing one of the movies from the little stack and examining it.

Eddie leans further against Billy and smiles when big arms encase him.

“‘M sorry your movie night was a bust,” Billy murmurs.

“We can still watch something if you want,” Steve offers.

Big brown eyes gaze up at him, and Eddie chews his lip. Doesn’t push down the butterflies that start to swirl around in his tummy.

“Take your pic, princess.”

#eddie munson #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringroveson #stedilly #metalsandwich #corroded coffin #fluff and angst #love confessions #I just like making Billy be mean okay #and I think eventually the CC guys will come around but they try EVERYTHING to make Eddie single at first #ficlet #my writing #unedited #posting this on my lunch break so I do not have time to proof read #don’t judge me

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lisafrnkenstein · 1 year

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Steve is thirteen when they send him off to summer camp for the first time. It’s not really a summer camp though, it’s a study camp; a glorified summer school — and in Steve’s mind, a punishment specifically for all the kids who get bad grades.

He drags his suitcase into the door of his cabin, and peeks curiously into the other bed there to see who he’s going to be bunking with for the next two months.

What he’s greeted with is a head of long, curly hair, and a set of big, brown eyes perched over a freckled nose.

Steve swallows thickly in shock. The rooms are co-ed?!

Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair, a habit as much as it is an effort to smooth back his humidity-frazzled do, and he straightens his shoulders.

“Hi,” He says, extending an open palm. “I’m Steve. And you’re…cute.”

Those eyes grow even wider in surprise, but the kid takes his hand and shakes it.

“I really like your hair,” Steve says. “It’s pretty.”

“I, uh - um,” The kid says, throat clearing. “I’m Eddie.”

Steve blinks.

“You’re -“

Eddie takes in his dumbfounded expression, and he throws his head back in a barking laugh.

“Dude! Did you think I was a girl?!”

Steve can feel his cheeks grow warm, and he looks down at his feet, too embarrassed to even make eye contact.

Eddie peers up at him, his mouth still twitching.

“Fine, let’s make it even then. I think you’re cute too.”

That gets Steve to look up, and he catches the playful expression on Eddie’s face, unable to help himself from matching it with a hesitant smile.

“So what are you in here for?” Eddie asks, flopping back on his bed and patting it in signal for Steve to join him.

“Ugh,” Steve pouts, his nose wrinkling as he sits down. “English. Writing and spelling sucks, and I hate reading. How about you?”

“Math,” Eddie sighs. “I’d gladly take writing and spelling and reading over numbers that just get all jumbled up and make no sense.”

“What!” Steve squawks. “But math is the easiest! It always stays the same and you follow the same rules for every problem!”

“Say,” Eddie says, mouth quirking up. “Sounds like we could help each other out.”

Steve looks down where Eddie has jutted his hand out, a mirror to his own earlier greeting.

“Alright,” Steve agrees, shaking it.

Hand in hand, pack made, seals the fate of two boys stuck in camp that summer. They spend their free time from then on bonding, hard and fast.

Skinned knees and swimming lessons. Shared homework, and Eddie reading aloud from all the books he’d brought with him. Sneaking into the kitchens, when all the counselors are turned in, to steal snacks — sweet and salty treats alike, that they giggle over while they construct pillow forts between their sides of the room.

Eddie shows Steve how to strum a few chords on a beat up acoustic that one of the adults brought with them to play around the campfire, and Steve teaches Eddie how to avoid getting tagged in capture the flag.

They swap clothes when they run out of clean things and don’t feel like washing just yet, Steve in Eddie’s flannel one week, and Eddie in Steve’s t-shirts the next.

Steve shows Eddie the best way to capture bugs without hurting them, from butterflies to ants to larger beetles. Eddie shows him the best way to set them loose in other cabins during prank wars.

They take showers at the same time, occupying stalls on opposite sides, both competing to see who can sing the loudest at the top of their lungs while they lather up their hair.

They take canoe trips, with talks of things like birthdays:

“Mine’s on the fourth!”

“No way! Mine is the twenty sixth!”

“That officially makes July the best month.”

And late night conversations, shared after lights out, two boys tucked into the same bed:

“My dad doesn’t care whether or not I pass next year and get into high school,” Eddie whispers. “I think he’s hoping I drop out so I have to come help him run jobs.”

“Mine cares way too much how I do,” Steve whispers back. “Even though he doesn’t really care about anything else. I think I could be dying and he would just ask me how my grades are.”

“Dads are assholes.” Eddie proclaims, and Steve feels a rush of deja-vu out of nowhere.

“Yeah,” he agrees, quietly, his hand slipping into Eddie’s where it rests between their heads. “But who needs ‘em? We got each other now.”

“Forever,” Eddie says back, squeezing his fingers.

Forever, as it turns out, only lasts the duration of camp. They send each other off with tearful goodbyes, promising they’ll see each other in school, their last year together before Eddie graduates up.

But Steve doesn’t see Eddie that year. He tries, again and again, posting himself right beside Eddie’s locker, but the boy never shows himself. If Steve didn’t know any better, he would think it’s because he’s avoiding him.

He asks around, and the teachers all confirm he’s in attendance, at least most of the time. They don’t share any classes though, so it’s hard to catch him when he appears to be taking no extra-curriculars, doesn’t ride the bus, and avoids his locker at all costs. Even lunch he apparently eats in his “secret spot,” which nobody can really tell him the location of, only that it exists.

But Steve’s not one to ever give up on people, so he tries a different approach. He starts writing notes, scribbles of thoughts on scrap pieces of paper that he shoves between the slats of Eddie’s locker. Notes soon graduate to letters, and Steve flexes all the tips Eddie ever gave him on writing; expressing how much he misses him, and still wants to be his friend.

“I’ve never had a friend like you,” He writes. “The only other friend I have is Tommy H. and mostly I’m nice to him because sometimes I think if I didn’t pretend to be his friend, he might get real mean and nasty. But I miss talking to you. I miss telling you secrets. I miss when it was just the two of us in our cabin. I miss you letting me play with your hair, cause honestly it still is the prettiest.”

Steve doesn’t get a reply. He has no way of knowing if Eddie ever got a single thing he wrote, not before the year is up and Eddie is presumably graduated.

The year after Steve spends in a countdown, waiting for the day he gets to the high school. Waiting for a chance to see his friend again, to see if he’s over whatever made him avoid him.

The day rolls around, and Steve sets foot into Hawkins High for the first time, fifteen and just barely grown into his broader shoulders and newly acquired height.

Eddie, on the other hand, is sixteen and still gangly as a newborn colt; all long, skinny legs and knobbly joints, towering over most of the other kids, so Steve spots him easily.

His ears stick off his head like they don’t belong there, no longer hidden by a mass of bushy curls. His hair is shorn short, worse even than a military buzz.

“Eddie!” Steve calls, excited at the sight of him.

Eddie freezes at the sound of his voice, his head turning slowly until he catches Steve down the other end of the hall.

He runs. Books it to the nearest bathroom at a ridiculous speed, and Steve feels his stomach sink as he follows after him, glancing beneath the stall doors until he spies a pair of worn, red sneakers beneath one.

The bell rings and then it’s just them there, late for class.

“Eddie,” Steve says, fighting the hot prick of tears in his eyes. “Can you at least tell me what I did wrong?”

There’s a pause, and then the stall swings open slowly.

“It’s not you, Stevie,” Eddie’s voice croaks. “Never you.”

“Then what?”

“I didn’t,” Eddie trails off, choked up. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

Steve doesn’t know how to translate that for a solid twenty seconds, an awkward silence as he tries to make sense of it. And then it clicks.

“Eddie,” He says softly, “It’s just hair.”

Eddie’s face pinches, and then he crumbles.

It’s not pretty; it’s loud and it’s snotty, and there are a few sobbed “missed you”s smeared into Steve’s shirt as Eddie collapses forward, but he doesn’t care; not with Eddie in his arms.

“No one has ever looked at me like you did before,” Eddie heaves between heavy breaths, clutching either sleeve of Steve’s polo. “You said - my hair - you thought I was pretty. I didn’t want that to change. Dad cut it right after I got back and I thought…I don’t know. I didn’t want you to see.”

Steve takes a steadying breath and pulls back, just enough that he can take Eddie’s face between both of his hands.

He’s lost the freckles mostly, but his eyes are just as big as ever, framed with long, dark eyelashes, tears clinging to them.

“Do you think I spent a year cramming notes in your locker because of your hair?” Steve asks.

“Uh -“ Eddie manages, a little stunned.

“I think,” Steve says, clearing his throat and trying not to sound half as awkward as he feels, “That your hair doesn’t matter, because you’re still pretty.”

Eddie’s eyes refill with fresh tears.

“Really?”

Steve carefully swipes under his eyes with his thumbs.

“Mhm. I think - well, maybe not right now, because you’re a little bit gross, but -“ He breaks off into a bit of watery laughter, “But you’re definitely still the prettiest guy I’ve ever seen. You’ve got the cutest eyes in the whole school, and your dad is a fucking asshole for what he did, but it doesn’t change that you’re my best friend.”

Eddie hugs him tight, burying his face into the now soaked material of Steve’s shirt, like he’s afraid to ever let go of him again. And maybe Steve cries a little too, over spending the last two years thinking his best friend hated him.

They work together that year to help Eddie get on his own feet making money — dealing — and Eddie makes enough to get out from his father’s roof so he can grow his hair out again. His uncle is more than happy to make space for Lila’s kid, and doubly so just to keep him away from Al.

Steve is there to see every stage of growth, from messy curls to a chin length bob, and just as pleased to tell him that he still likes it every step of the way, no matter how it looks.

~~~~~~~~~

Steve opens his eyes to the sun streaming in, and just like that, the dream is gone. Torn away by the light permeating behind his eyelids, even as he groans and tries to go back to sleep, to chase the world where he and Eddie…

Steve pops up, sitting ramrod straight.

Where they had been…what? Best friends? Steve doesn’t think sending a year’s worth of locker notes and calling your friend “pretty” looks so strictly platonic, which only serves to make this new dream even weirder.

Eddie is…is his dead friend who was barely even a friend. His fists clench in his bedspread, and he fights against the lump that lodges in his throat as he tries to convince himself of that fact.

But their closeness, the way they had been with each other…it felt so real. It lingers, in a way that leaves Steve short of breath as it collides with reality, this world where Eddie is gone and was never his.

He lays back down, arm extending over the empty space in his bed. His fingers trace the absence of a body that was never there, the phantom feeling of another hand in his wrenching a tight gasp from his lungs.

He wonders what it was he must have done to earn this, that his brain invents new ways to wallow in a misery he should have never known. It’s the second one now that he's remembered, and he feels daunted by the prospect of what that could mean.

read the fic on ao3

#steddie #steve/eddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #stranger things #st #my writing

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wroteclassicaly · 2 years

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Imagine Eddie coming to your rescue when your Galentines Day leaves you saddened and feeling sorry for yourself.

You’d planned to spend the day with Robin and Nancy, getting your nails done and having an adult sleepover. Robs had already checked out a plethora of chick flick and horror films from work to binge, with Nancy loading up on snacks and stashing them in the station wagon, and you were in charge of getting pizzas and milkshakes. It was supposed to have gone that way, anyways… Now you’re sitting alone on your dad’s old leather couch, movies and pizzas stacked in front of you, milkshakes melting, nail appointments canceled, while your friends had separated for surprise plans with their significant others.

“Are you sure? I know Jonathan won’t care if I cancel.”

“Nance, you hardly get to see him.”

“Vickie won’t mind either, I’m sure—“

“Hey, I’m not gonna break, babes. I get it, okay? You go spend some time with your guy and girl. I’ll just watch some movies and chill. I need some me time anyways.”

You’d wanted to give yourself an award for the amount of effort you put into believing that. Hell, you did at first. You were happy for them, you did enjoy solitude sometimes. But you hadn’t told them that you had already paid for everyone’s nails before you canceled, or had the shakes and pizzas in your car. It wasn’t their fault, nor would you ever guilt them.

You planned to eat as much as you could, then sulk, drink a little, and fall into bed with some late night crappy television. What you didn’t bank on is crying over your loneliness and lack of flowers, candy, or even a card from someone. You almost considered calling Steve, but he’d been preparing for a date all week that you knew it wasn’t one he was going to cancel to come he a couch potato with you. Even the kids in your makeshift family had their partners. You snort into a soft sniffle, about ready to throw away your food and make that venture to bed anyways, when a knock clicks across your front door, rasping knuckle bones heavy and persistent.

It’s not a very attractive look, but don’t expect anyone that isn’t your immediate relative, so you wrap your patchwork throw around your shoulders and head for the door, pulling it open against the biting winter wind. Eddie Munson is leaning in your doorway, ringed hand curled into a fist mid-knock, his soft curls billowing out behind him. He’s wrapped in his leather jacket and a pair of white washed jeans, scribbled with an array of doodles. He’s bouncing on his heels and those lips — red from the weather, they curl back to reveal milky white teeth. You stare him down for what feels like minutes, but is merely seconds, and then he’s speaking with an ever present smirk, motioning to your entryway.

“May I cross the threshold, perhaps?”

“Oh.” You shiver, as if your body suddenly remembers the wind chill factor. Or maybe that’s something else. “Yeah, sure. Come on in.”

Eddie slides in beside you and strolls into your living room, immediately seeing the boxes of pizza stacked and steaming. You close the door and wish you could walk out through it and into your embarrassing shame. You join him in record time, curling a sweat pant clad leg beneath you, keeping the blanket wound tightly around your chest. He drops beside you, brow raising. “Not very dressed for the party it looks like you’re expecting.”

He’s meaning the pizza, a teasing banter playing on his lips, but your already emotional state causes you to bow your head. “No party. You’re welcome to them if you’re hungry, or if you know of someone else.”

You really don’t want to think of Eddie’s potential date. It’d be horrific if she choked on a pepperoni. You catch his frown, already wishing you had just ignored the door. He senses your anxiety, he knows that retreating defeat. You’re not at all prepared for his much larger hand to clasp a top yours, squeezing gently.

You’re nearly frozen, his cold hand a sudden shockwave. That and the dozens of Cupid shaped butterflies that are slapping your insides with their glittery wings, leaving Eddie’s magic dust behind. You smile at that notion, Eddie leaning in a bit to try and read you. “There’s a smile. Figured you needed one. You looked like I felt when Wayne’s admirer brought her granddaughter over with some lumpy ass chocolate cake and we all had to sit in the kitchen and talk.”

You can’t fight the chuckle that escapes you, images dancing in your head of Eddie trying to be a polite host, but being irritated and obnoxiously endearing.

“Yeah, yeah. S’ not so funny when it’s not even the granddaughter that blows you kisses, but the old lady every-time she sees me.”

“Maybe don’t be so lovable?” You quirk, letting your blanket slide a few inches, a sudden warmth swelling underneath your cheeks.

“You think I’m lovable, hmm? Look at you. All cuddled up and cute right now. I could… just—“ And he stops himself, staring blankly, your heart rate thrumming rather uncomfortably. You’re about to ask him what his deal is, but he’s finding his speech again and tackles you back onto the couch, with a, “—tickle-attack you!”

“Eddie, get off! Jesus you’re a lanky mother fucker!” You’re trying to shout but it comes out as a series of giggles, his fingertips pressing into your armpits above the blankets, his curls tickling your face each instance he moves from your fight back.

Only once you’re panting and letting him be privy to winning, he eases back. You grip his forearms, however, a boldness, an alarmingly vice finding your heart muscle, stringing it up and attempting to tie it to Eddie’s. You unravel your burrito cocoon, throwing the material over his back and bringing your arms into a wide open spread. The most feather light grin grazes his spectacular mouth, and he’s obliging, wrapping you into his arms and snuggling into your blanket shield with you, cinnamon, Old Spice, the dusty smell of baseboard heaters in his trailer, his camel cigarette smoke lingering in layers, and laundry detergent clinging to his sweater. His body weight is welcomed, his cooling skin like electricity, and your crush is cheering in celebration that you’re cuddling with Eddie Munson.

Little did you know, your Galentine’s dates had purposely sent Eddie over, knowing fate would latch onto the rest.

~*~

Happy Valentine’s Day, loves ❤️🖤

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chocotonez · 2 years

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skz love languages: acts of service

a/n: I have so many ideas yet none exist in my head,,that’s not meant to be poetic it just means I struggled with some of these

genre/warnings: I don’t think there’s any, gn reader (should be, pls tell me if there’s anything implying otherwise!!), swearing, guys I promise I know my grammar I just like casual language for my hcs

chan

-okay these will be short and sweet because I have so many thoughts

-folds your clothes along with his, or washes your laundry with his

-remembers your schedule so he can remind you of important events

-gives you tips if you ever go to the gym together and shares his water with you

-blows on hot food before he gives it to you

-takes photos of things he remembered you talking about when he’s at the store and asks if you want it

-holds your hands in his when it’s cold and rubs them to warm them up!!

-brings you water/snacks if you’re studying/working with little notes on them saying ur doing a good job <3

-brings extra tissues or lip balm or hand sanitizer just in case you need it

minho

-okay this is kinda niche but like clearing out your phone tabs or compter tabs and scolding you if you have a messy layout or smth like that

-texts reminders to you regularly, drink water, eat, take meds, clean your desk when you get home…

-sends you cute gifs to cheer you up

-always checks in with your feelings in his own way “hey u big baby, are you okay? do you need anything?”

-pretends to laugh at the videos you send him because even tho they’re usually kinda lame it’s from you and that makes him smile but he’ll never admit that </3

-organizes any mess you left behind, puts your dishes away or puts your shoes away and then makes fun of u for being “messy”

-wipes away food you got on your face

-begrudgingly lets you have more blanket when you sleep/cuddle together because he doesn’t want to see u cold or uncomfortable :(

-takes your glasses/jewelry off if you fell asleep with them on

changbin

-opens jars/wrappers/bags for you

-lifts you into his shoulders at festivals

-because it’s October here’s a lil Halloween inclusion of him holding your hands at haunted houses and yelling at the scare actors for you <3 (also because it’s his way of coping lol)

-turns lights off/closes doors if you forget

-if you’re in the bathroom before bed he fluffs up your pillows so ur all comfy and cozy

-reads messages you got out loud if you’re preoccupied with something else, or alerts you if something seems important

-tells you stupid bedtime stories to help you go back to sleep if you had a nightmare

-begins to buy larger umbrellas so you both can stay dry together

-if you wear makeup he wants to help you by either by blending it or just straight applying it and giggling like a kid because “it’s fun”

hyunjin

-brushes your hair and styles it

-this might be also niche but holding onto your shoulders while you walk rather than your hand because it feels more secure?? also because he feels like he can bring you closer to him

-I never really write idol s/os but the idea of him looking over to you during an awards show to periodically make sure ur okay makes me melt

-feeds you and then pinches ur cheeks while laughing

-usually lets you choose the movie/show you want to watch, same with places to eat (unless you don’t know what to pick, then he’ll help you figure it out)

-runs you weekly bubble baths for you two to relax in

-holds/opens doors for you

-always wants you to relax, back rubs or nights off and doing face masks together

-he applies ur face masks for you :)

han

-he’s more of a receiver than a giver for this love language, his is mostly mixed with gift gifting

-making you playlists or untitled songs or coded titles so only you can find them on his Spotify :)

-he adjusts ur clothes, I feel like he’s the type of boyfriend to pick lint off of u without being promoted

-he’s a bit messy so he’ll tend to throw things into your drawer so it at least has the appearance of looking neat, he’ll help u organize if that’s what u want tho!! U just need to ask <3

-always checks in on you unprompted tho, makes sure you’re doing well at any hour of the day and whines

-he either spam texts u or shows up at your house with no warning to check up on you

-stands up for u but subtlety (English is not my first language it took me like seven tries to get that right pmg)

-BUT as I was saying, if you want to go to a restaurant but ur too shy to say it in front of the ppl ur hanging out with, he’ll be like “I WANNA GO TO ____” until they relent <3

felix

-kills bugs for you

-teaches you how to bake and if he’s alone, he’ll bake extra treats for you (his fave thing to bake u r cupcakes !! )

-helps you build furniture and never teases u if you don’t get something <333

-if you play online games together he’ll try to always watch your back and fight off enemies for you

-or if you prefer taking the offensive, he’ll simply cheer you on :))

-sends flowers to your workplace/leaves them on your kitchen counter

-stargazes with you or plans out meaningful dates where he treats you

-makes you playlists

-sings you lullabies if you can’t sleep or just wanna hear him

-stays up after you to make sure you went to bed okay

seungmin

-plugs in your phone for you before bed

-he always listens to your advice or at least takes it into heavy consideration, makes sure you feel heard

-asks if his jokes ever go too far

-“excuse me, they asked for no pickles”

-alway thanks you for acts of services that you do for him, leaves sweet texts or letters expressing his gratitude

-weirdly sweet remarks about how you’re so pretty it’s annoying or “who gave you permission to look so good tonight?”

-covers your eyes during scary parts of movies

-unless asked, he always lets you sleep in on weekends but never fails to be a human alarm clock if your digital one isn’t working

-wakes up before you 99% of the time so he can at least start a cup of coffee/breakfast for you

-pesters you into taking care of yourself (laying on top of you until you brush your teeth, tickling you until you relent to drinking water…)

jeongin

-never breaks pinky promises, and always tells you in advance if there’s a schedule conflict so you don’t have to wait

-if he pays you back for anything he adds a little message “thanks for lunch, love you so much”

-tries new things for you because he trusts you, and encourages you to step out of your comfort zone as well

-asks if you’d like anything before he goes to the grocery store, and always remembers it

-thanks you randomly for being such a good partner or if you did something nice in the past few days

-always gives you a comfortable space to express yourself in, lets you talk and never interrupts you

-makes sure you stay uninterrupted as well, glares down anyone who speaks over u lolol

-makes a special handshake between the two of you

-very playful acts of services but they r still acts of services <3

#stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #uhhhh #yay #I’ll probably do Blackpink but I might do other love languages first #this series is honestly more challenging than I expected but it’s a lot of fun

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lou-struck · 2 years

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Advent Calendar

Beelzebub x Reader

Day 1: Advent Calander

25 Days of Ficmas Masterlist

~The Countdown to Christmas starts today, and you can’t wait to crack open the first door on your Advent Calander.

On your last trip to the human world, you tore through several stores trying to find bits of holiday cheer to bring back for the Brothers, the other exchange students, and those in the Demon Lords Castle. While the Devildom does celebrate Christmas, there are many things that you could not find in the windows of Majolish.

One thing, in particular, was the cheap drugstore advent calendars. Nothing says Christmas is fast approaching like opening up one of the flimsy paper doors on the first day of December and enjoying your first daily chocolates.

There were so many options, you just had to buy a few to bring back for everyone as a little surprise.

With the other calendars stashed away till tomorrow, you take yours and place it in the kitchen, more focused on the treasure within rather than the dangers it is exposed to in there.

Excitedly you head up to bed knowing that the sooner you go to sleep, the sooner you can crack open the first door.

The dark sky looks a bit lighter in the mornings, especially since you have something to look forward to. Excitedly you slide on your slipper and rush to the kitchen to open the first door of your advent calendar.

But when you get to the kitchen you are surprised to see your advent calendar on the counter. Your brows furrow in confusion, Hopefully, you placed it there by mistake last night and no one has gotten into it.

But as you search for the first door you are surprised to see that it looks like it has been opened already. With a sigh, you pull back the little paper door. The emptiness on the other side is heartbreaking. The little chocolate is nowhere in sight.

Checking the other doors you see that all of the chocolates have been eaten. Dejectedly you take the now-empty calendar and walk over to the trash can.

Just as you are about to throw it away the double doors of the kitchen burst open. In walks Beel in his search to scrounge up a bit of food before breakfast is served.

"Good Morning Mc, did you sleep well?" He greets you with a smile. His orange hair still messy from sleep

He looks so adorable you smile back at the gentle giant despite the circumstances. "Good Morning Beel.

His light purple eyes look at the now empty chocolate advent calendar in your hands. "Those chocolates were Delicious MC. But the packaging was kinda strange. I almost ate the whole box trying to find them all."

"So you ate my Calendar?" you ask him as the realization hits you like a sleigh.

Out of everyone in the House, the avatar of gluttony is the most likely to take your food as a late-night snack. It makes you feel a bit stupid for not coming to this conclusion sooner.

A look of shame flashes across the demon's face as he nods. "I-I wasn't supposed to eat those, was I?"

Your gaze softens and you shake your head, "No, but it's okay Beel.”

“I’m really sorry Mc what was it?” He asks, his shoulders deflate and he truly looks sorry for what he did.

You gesture for him to follow you as you take the calendar and move over to the countertop so you can show him. “This is an advent calendar. Up until Christmas, you open a numbered door each day. Each chocolate has a different design on it.”

“I didn't see that they had any designs on them,” he says sullenly, his finges come to fiddle with the opened doors as if he is trying to figure out what was printed on the chocolates he had eaten in the middle of the night.

“It’s okay.” you say placing your smaller hand atop his larger one, “When I give you your calendar, you can see what is one each chocolate before you eat it.”

His eyes widen, “You’re giving me one?” A deep blush covers his features as his eyes bore into yours." Even after I ate yours?"

"Of course," you laugh. Through the look of admiration, he is giving you, you see something else thrashing around in his gaze.

Slamming his fist on the table he turns around and takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry, but I can’t accept your gift,” he says fighting what you think is a sniffle. “Please keep it for yourself to make up for my mistake.”

You nod It takes a lot for Beel to turn down food, especially since it's from you. “I understand Beel,” you say walking around to face the demon. “Are you sure you don’t want it?”

“No,” he gulps “Not when it meant so much to you.”

After Breakfast, you duck away to grab the calendars for everyone. After a brief explanation of what they are from you, you pass one out to each of them with the exception of Beel.

As all the brothers excitedly open the first door of their calendars showing off the different designs printed on their chocolates, you are surprised to see that Beel has stayed true to his word.

He has placed himself in the corner of the room and is trying his best to not look at the sweets that are being enjoyed.

Even though he had a huge breakfast the poor demon looks starved from the corner where he is sitting.

Grabbing your calendar you move to join him. “May I sit?” you ask. When he nods you join him and being to trace the front of the calendar with your fingers trying to find the first door.

When you find it, you gently open it up and plop out the first chocolate. Flipping it around you see the design is a fluffy little teddy bear wearing a scarf. It reminds you of Beel so much you chuckle.

“Is that a bear?” he asks as you nod taking the chocolate in your hands and breaking it into two pieces.

“For you,” you say holding out the half to him.

“A-are you sure?” he says

“Yes Beel, please take it,” you tell him encouragingly.

With your permission, he takes the half you're holding out to him with a shaky hand. He plops it into his mouth, his eyes close as he savors the flavor of the cheap chocolate.

You do the same. The nostalgia hits you like a ton of bricks as you smile thinking about the calendars you have gotten before.

“It’s delicious,” he says with a smile.

“Mmhmm” you hum spying a bit of chocolate on his bottom lip.

“What’s wrong?” he asks “Do I have something on my face?”

“Just a bit of chocolate,” you say with a giggle.

“Oh,” he chuckles, “Would you get it off for me?”

“Of course,” you grin mischievously. Planning to take a bit more than just the chocolate from his soft lips.

#obey me x mc #beelzebub #beelzebub x reader #beel #beel x mc #beel x reader #beelzebub x mc #beelzebub fluff #obey me #fluff #obey me fluff #obey me shall we date #25 days of fic mas

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factorialsotherfandoms · 11 months

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[top disclaimer - I saw yesterday's whumptober prompt of worked to exhaustion and remembered a bit of my xcom2 with qsmp characters playthrough I keep meaning to type up at least tidier notes for. I haven't yet, but this is a pair of scenes 47 pages in to my 90 pages of notes. Hopefully enough of this makes sense... TLDR: Mike was kidnapped, there's been 2 awful missions in a row where many people get hurt, etc. Warnings for major character injuries, though there are no graphic descriptions.]

It's been a two days since Bogota. If Philza never sees another sewer again, it will be far too soon. Tiny scabs from where the Spectre sent its bugs all through his body still cover every bit of skin, and the larger lazer burns remain bandaged tightly.

Fit is visiting, looking even more exhausted than Philza feels. He's brought snacks, and gossip, and will not go back to bed no matter how much Philza suggests it. It's not like Philza would be lonely - Missa and Roier's mission had also been a bit of a wreck, the entire team of six also in the medical ward for the immediate future at least. Chayanne, too, is about, the young boy currently curled up and asleep on the foot of Missa's bed.

Must be terrifying for the kid, to be rescued from hell only to see both new parents in the hospital in a few days of each other. For Bobby, too; Jaiden was also on the mission with Missa and Roier.

Still, Fit is here, so they make small talk. There's not a whole lot happening on the ship, but they can pretend.

The curtain lifts up, and Philza expects either Chayanne or the Doctor. Instead he sees Cellbit, looking about as close to passing out as Fit. His uniform is smart but his hair is a mess from running his hands through it too often, his face is near gaunt, and his fingers shake where they cling to his tablet.

"Fit, Philza." Cellbit nods to them both.

Philza's wave comes with a wince, Fit's salute with an "oi there what's up?"

"I'm really sorry to interrupt, but we need you for something. Fit, that is. We need Fit."

"What is it?" Fit groans as he tries to peer at Cellbit's clipboard.

The paperwork is hastily tucked away, "there's an opportunity that's come up. We need you to go undercover and get some research done."

"You're fucking joking," Philza immediately cuts in, one arm protectively covering the largest of his wounds, while the other grabs on to Fit. "Cellbit, we just got back from Bogota. You know how bad Bogota was. There's no way in hell this is safe. And everyone who was in Kaduna? Can't it wait a week"

Cellbit at least has the decency to look genuinely apologetic, "if there was another option…"

"What is it?" Fit removes Philza's arm from his own. "I'm not really in top condition; if you just need shit blowing up, Vegetta's a little better off."

"Can't it wait until tomorrow?" Philza asks. "At least then our armour upgrades will be done."

"Phil," Fit's voice drops a little.

Philza knows what being scolded for being overprotective sounds like, but Fit is his friend. His friend, who he dragged through hell, and has been dragged through hell by, and he trusts with his soul.

"It's Mike," Cellbit says, and that has both of them shut up. "We think we have a lead, but from the glimpses our contacts got during the transfer... It doesn't look good. Here."

Fit is handed a tablet, and shown whatever evidence the resistance has found.

"Fuck," Fit whispers the word, rubbing at his face. "There's nobody else?"

Philza is handed the tablet. It's a very short video clip, slightly corrupted. Still it's very clearly Mike, bloody and disorientated and still fighting as he's dragged from one transport van to another. He manages to bite a guard, and for it gets cracked over the head, goes limp and is tossed into the van.

He hands the tablet back, and tries not to think about the implications, or how they probably don't have as much time as this needs.

Instead he runs through the options: Jaiden and the team she took to Kaduna are back, but every one of them is in hospital with him. Forever, Tubbo, and Aypierre are needed on the ship. Mouse is still exhausted, even more dangerous for psi ops than the rest of them to push it. Cellbit himself still has one arm in a sling, and probably should not have left medical yet. A couple of other people, but most are too inexperienced to be sent out in just a duo for what will likely be a multi-week stealth operation. There's Baghera and Foolish, both experienced, but neither is much good at hacking. Which. Will probably be needed, to confirm which facility has Mike, and for how long.

There's Pac, of course, and Philza would put Pac on being the other half of the planned team. Ever since Mike was captured best part of two months ago, Pac has been on one ground mission - and there have been a lot of ground mission. The problem is, without Mike, Pac can be... Not volatile, volatile is Mike when Pac is critically injured and dying on the floor and Mike is too terrified to let anyone past to stabalise him, but reckless. Only with his own safety, but that's a problem itself.

Add in that Pac was /also/ on the mission in Bogota, still recovering from the sheer exhaustion of the test... Philza really wishes anyone else were available.

"There's Pac," Cellbit offers, also frowning. "He found out and wants in."

"If Pac's going, you need to go." The words taste like ash on Philza's tongue. "If it were not about Mike…"

Cellbit nods in agreement.

They can't keep Pac from going after Mike, and the purpose of a mission is impossible to keep secret for long with thirty-odd people crammed into one airship. Forever wouldn't be willing to, either. And to get Mike back but have lost Pac... They cannot do that either.

And Pac needs a stabalising hand with Mike gone, someone to keep him from shattering completely. There's a reason every mission he's been on since, Fit has been there. There's good reason, and everyone knows it.

Fit misses Mike like a limb, too, Philza knows.

Fit sigh, and stretches, and rubs his face, "I hate when you're right. Do I have time for a nap?"

"You leave in twenty minutes, but it's a long flight," Cellbit does seem apologetic, for all he runs his hands through his whitening hair. "The real problem is it's in Australia."

"Fucking hell," Fit groans. "They really didn't want us finding him, did they?"

"But we did," Cellbit reminds them, with a flash of his slightly too sharp teeth. "And they won't keep him. Once we have the coordinates, Forever'll send someone to help you get in and out."

Philza and Fit share a look. Fit looks like the exhaustion has seeped into his soul. It's a danger, going out in the field so tired. To himself, to others, to everyone.

But sometimes, he supposes, there really is no other choice.

Fit breaks eye contact first, "I'll kit up and be at the hanger in ten. Who's briefing us?"

"Not sure yet. Forever's still working out the details, so probably him?"

"A'ight," Fit turns to Philza. "See you later, big boy."

Philza rolls his eyes to mask his concern. "Just don't fall asleep on the job."

He gets flipped off; Philza laughs, and lets them leave.

Two weeks later, Pac and Fit come back - not someone joins them, they come back. They have Mike's location, and an entry point, and the head cracking didn't kill him, but he's being tortured and there's talk of disposing of him soon. Philza wishes that was the worst of it, though, he really does; most people's injuries have recovered so getting a team together won't take long. It's serious, but they can handle it. Hell, he'll voluenteer.

No, the worst of the report is that Pac gives it alone; Fit was rushed straight to medical as soon as they land. He is alive - conscious even - but the wounds are still severe.

Didn't hear a Viper coming, Pac says, was caught and constricted and had his rib cage crushed. And then used a grenade to force it to let go, dropping it at his own feet to force the alien to let go. Pac had been hacking at the time, getting the info they needed, and didn't notice anything until Fit was snatched from the door.

Fit didn't hear it, or so Pac says, too tired, too caught up in exhaustion to hear the threat until it was too late.

And Philza, Philza wishes he was surprised.

#qsmp fanfic #alternate universe - alien invasion #is this xcom2 crossover fic when I still haven't written the reports up?#yes oops #what immediately follows this is rescuing Mike #and Fit is fine in a bit with near-future medicine plus alien drugs #he's less badly off than phil at the start of the fic #but its a thing #not all of the eggs are actually around yet - ramon is notably missing in this fic but it might actually be just chayanne and bobby atm #I forget the exact order of who was where #qsmp x xcom

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heather-chandlers-weirder-cousin · 5 months

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Being Robin- TAACC peice I wrote for lit class, slightly out of date characterization wise but whatever

Warning for suicide, child abuse, loosely implied self-destructive behavior

The house was never really in a state of disrepair, it was just- disturbed.

If you didn’t know anything about the occupants, you would think that it was the house of a larger-than-life family- unmade beds, a thousand papers strewn over the coffee table at all times and the pantry consisting of mostly quick, packaged snacks.

But only two people at a time had ever lived there at once. Or, three, if you counted Harper’s sporadic visits from downtown.

(It wasn’t a house where there were too many people to keep it clean, it was a house where there was always something more important.)

It was the first strange thing about the house. But the more obvious one, perhaps, was that the walls were absolutely plastered in newspaper clippings about a certain trio of superheroes. Some of the bigger ones framed: Who is the Masked Hero known as Charge, Charge and her New Sidekick, Cause of the Recent Earthquakes Behind Bars! The smaller victories just tacked onto the wall: Charge and Magma Save the Day, Highlighter busts drug case, Another Crime Boss Bites the Dust!

(Cory Caspers, the owner of said house, didn’t display all of them, obviously. There was no room, although she tried to make it, hanging some in our bedrooms and then in a filing cabinet in hers. Most of them were eventually recycled: Highlighter’s Funeral to Be Private, Magma De-Masks and Renounces Heroism.)

The most strange thing, probably, was that I was going back.

Cory, Harper and I always celebrated Christmas together. None of us were Christian or even really religious- but when I was fourteen, I started missing celebrating winter holidays like when I was little and I mentioned it to her, and the next day, there was a little plastic Christmas tree on the coffee table. The next year, we invited Harper over for it. The next year, we had a tradition- a big breakfast of pancakes on the 25th, a little tree in the living room, and a yearly watching of the Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer movie.

(Burglaries increase drastically on Christmas Eve- something about Santa. We were always tired the whole day from getting called out at 3 AM the night before- and a lot of times Cory would dip in the middle of the day to patrol. Nothing more important than the safety of San Sobelle, she used to tell me when I protested.)

Harper isn’t going to be around to crack jokes about Cory’s decorating skills this Christmas. And things have been unbearably strained since even before that August-

But it’s always been her favorite time of year since we started celebrating. And the thought of her alone in the house gets to me, because I know if there’s no one else around she spends all her time at home in the basement, working on a case.

…To tell the truth, I had never liked townhouses. There was nothing wrong with them, I just- they felt trapped. Constricting. This one especially, dull blue and unassuming, now that I hadn't been inside in… What. Five years?

She hugged me when she opened the door, that lazy smile she always wore steady on her face. There was something under it.

I remembered the first time I stepped into the hallway. I was twelve, and nothing made sense anymore. Dead parents. New powers. Fire always creeping at the edges of my vision and an itching heat under my skin. Charge had crouched down to me in the hospital the day after I heard the news: You’re an orphan now. Your grandparents won’t take you.

What’s your name? She’d asked, calm about the whole thing. And I’d answered: Maggie Mendoza.

Do you know who I am? She’d asked. Of course I knew. She was the protector of the city, the one who showed up when things went wrong. She’d put the guy responsible for the recent rash of earthquakes in prison just the other week. I nodded.

Well, I was told you got some powers out of this whole… thing. She’d gestured, uncomfortable. She was never good at anything to do with family. That’s the one thing I blame on her parents. And don’t have anyone to take care of you. And I happen to have a spare room and need a sidekick.

And so it started. That’s how Magma was born- The teen super with the power to transform into the stuff. We were never good at superhero names, I know. Highlighter didn’t even make sense as a name for someone with precognition.

The downstairs hadn’t changed.

The basement door was disguised to look like a backdoor, despite us having nothing of the sort, because if you climbed down the stairs you would find the basement- also known as Charge’s hideout. Harper used to joke and call it the family room, Which. It wasn’t like we spent a lot of time in the rest of the house.

(The secrecy was completely unneeded. The only people who were ever allowed inside the house were us and very rarely, other heroes. I have long since suspected that this and the fact that she never sent me to school are some of the reasons I don’t have any friends.)

The kitchen was still the same. Bags of goldfish on the counter, a stove that probably hadn’t been used in years. There was no time for cooking when there were crimes to stop- the only thing Cory could make was Mac and Cheese and Meatloaf, anyway. I was always the chef in the family, even if I’ve only really started cooking since I left the house.

Perhaps it’s odd that going upstairs was what struck me the most. Not seeing the upstairs- the staircase itself.

I was an eavesdropper when I was a kid. Probably would have been a motormouth if I had anyone my age to talk to. The amount of time I spent crouching on the middle of the steps, listening to the conversations Harper and Cory had after they thought I was asleep was ridiculous.

(In the later years, it mostly consisted of Cory being concerned for him. It was an endless back and forth of Are you okay? I’m fine, really. This isn’t healthy. I’d stop if I didn’t want it. Once, she’d gotten frustrated. You’re acting like a whore and I know it isn’t because you are one.

He’d been planning to stay a week that time. He left the next morning, quiet and frustrated.

I’d thought at the time that it was just Cory being a prick about him flirting a lot. She was being a prick.

But then August happened. So something was wrong, even if she was horrible about it.

Harper didn’t talk about it, and he always seemed so happy. But apparently something was wrong and it must have been eating at him and Cory was the only one who’d noticed it.)

And then, all of a sudden, Harper was gone.

On an unusually chilly August morning, in 2018, my big brother took the toaster- the toaster that he’d bought the week before, that he’d said was so he could make me something that wasn’t burnt when I crashed at his place- and he drew a bath. Plugged the toaster in the bathroom outlet.

When they found him, he was wearing his super suit.

(Harper didn’t mean anything by the method. Even if he did resent Charge, he never would have said so. But when your adoptive mom is the superhero best known for having the power to shock everyone within five feet of her to death, it makes a statement to electrocute yourself. Cory looked like she was going to die when she found out how he did it- the only time she looked worse was when she found out it happened in the first place.)

(He might have meant something by the suit. No way to know. Charge had him buried under the name Highlighter, and when I found out I wrote Harper Harris on his grave with a sharpie and didn’t answer any calls from her for the next two months.)

I took a deep breath, and climbed the stairs.

The downstairs looked the same, but the upstairs was a time capsule.

My room was exactly how I left it, and it almost felt wrong to disturb it as I placed my bag down and sat on the bed.

Almost everything I’d had as a kid was still there- the night I left was full of yelling and anger and the only things I thought to pack were my laptop, my teddy bear, and some clothes. The dresser still had its drawers half opened, a green sweater I’d always thought was ugly hanging out of the top one.

The bed wasn’t remotely made- Harper was the only one in the family who’d bothered with his, he was almost obsessive with how clean he was. Cory only cared about messes if they got in her way, and I’ve always been a downright slob.

The mug with a bi flag on it was still sitting in the corner of my desk. (When I told her, she shrugged. I don’t see why it needs to be a big thing. She’d said. But if you’re happy, fine. But the next June, when we were at Target to get something for a case, she’d silently grabbed the mug and put it in the basket. We’d never spoken about it again, in the exact same way as how we never spoke about Harper’s constant dates with people older than him.)

(I had always felt weird about how the two were treated the same, but it was only recently that I was able to articulate why.)

***

Christmas breakfast was painfully awkward. I made the pancakes like always- I’d taken up baking as a hobby once I left. (Once I started having nightmares, about fighting people twice my size and the faces of people who weren’t here anymore because of us, it helped to have something predictable to focus on. Measure three cups out. Mix until smooth. Check the next step.)

(This family rots you from the inside out.)

#rue rants #rue writes #TAACC #Maggie Mendoza TAACC #Cory Caspers TAACC #Harper Harris TAACC #not a fan of the ending but it was running double the wordcount it was meant to be so

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scourge-lover · 11 months

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The Basics

Good Parenting is about BAD Parenting.

A dented, bloodstained horde insignia was a good a teaching tool as any. Arthas held it up to show Chompers. The little gnoll stopped chewing on her bone and stared at the item.

"What color is it?" Arthas asked.

"Red!" She chirped.

Arthas nodded. "Good job. Here, have a treat."

He reached into a small box he had purchased in Dalaran and pulled out a pungent bone shaped treat. Chompers eagerly dropped her bone and reached for it desperately. Once handed over, Chompers wolfed it down noisily. Now he had her full attention. Her little tail was blur.

A box full of random items collected around the Citadel served to teach Chomper simple things a child should know. Arthas pulled out a white mouse, dangling by its tail.

"What color is this?"

Chompers watched it with wide eyes. "White! Gimme!"

"Ah ah ah. No. What is it?"

"Rat!"

Arthas shook his head. The tiny gnoll girl scowled, confused. Arthas let the mouse perch precariously onto his palm.

"Rats are larger. Their tails are hairless. This creature is smaller with a soft tail, with a slender snout and long whiskers. It's a mouse."

Chompers held her paws out for it. "Gimme mouse."

Arthas gave her a critical look.

"Don't eat it," He warned, before letting it crawl into her cupped paws. Rats were more cautious as well. Mice were curious and innocent like Chompers. The girl let out a little noise of happiness. One paw pad gently rubbed against the fragile creature's head.

Since she didn't kill it Arthas reward her with another treat. She crunched it happily while petting the tiny mouse. Surprisingly, she asked for another treat. When Arthas gave it to her, she broke it in half and gave the other piece to the mouse. It smelled the food aroma and took it from her, clutching it in its paws and chewed it. Chompers cackled in delight.

Ethan came into the study just as Arthas pulled out the decapitated head of an orc.

"DEAR LIGHT," Ethan cried out before gagging. He scooped up Chompers and covered her eyes. Teaching lessons were over apparently.

"I was teaching her different colors," Arthas stated simply.

Ethan was furious. "And you couldn't find an example of green except for SOMEONE'S HEAD?"

Arthas shrugged. "Thought I might teach some anatomy on top of that."

Ethan let out a grunt of disgust. He quickly took Chompers to the door and whispered to her gently to go play somewhere else. He then whipped around to face his uncle.

"No more teaching lessons from you! I'd rather let Falric teach her. Wait. What, what are those?" He said, looking at the box of treats Arthas had been giving Chompers. He picked them up before Arthas could even say anything. He read the label.

"These are dog. treats. Chompers is not a dog!"

Arthas smirked, "You're right. A wolf is closer to doghood than a gnoll. Do you want them instead? They are bacon flavored."

His baited answer didn't get a bite. Ethan reached up to pinch his nose.

"Feed Chompers dog treats or traumatize her with bodyless heads again and we're both leaving."

He did not even let Arthas respond. He tossed the box of treats back at Arthas and left the room in a huff. Arthas followed him out of the study, thoughtful. Relieved of parenting duty, Arthas went to his other daughter's room. The door was open and inside Sapphire was laying on her bed, reading a book.

"Hey, Sapphire. Want a snack?" Arthas asked, shaking the treat box. Sapphire put down her book immediately, looking up with bright eyes.

#arthas menethil #oc #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #gnoll oc #my writing #writing

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shiggysimp69 · 2 years

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He Came With The Rain

I never thought I'd be posting my writing to the internet and yet here I am. I hope it's good, I didn't fully know what I wanted to do with this story but it still came out nice in my opinion. This is a self insert story with my character, Chinami.

Tw: Implied stalking

Essentially, Tomura breaks into Chinami's house.

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It was a foggy afternoon. Outside the wind howled as rain feel from the sky and onto the dimly lit streets. Chinami never liked dark, cloudy days, they always made her feel alone. Thankfully, she didn't have any plans today but on the other hand, now she's just sitting in her house with the feeling of loneliness creeping up all around her. She decided to get a snack, thinking it would make her feel better. She walked in the kitchen and picked up one of the muffins she baked yesterday, then went to grab milk. It was getting late and Chinami knew she should start dinner instead but when she started feeling depressed it was hard to do much of anything, let alone cook a meal. She put the milk away then started heading back to bed.

An hour had passed and the rain still wasn't letting up. At this point, Chinami had started to feel better; now watching her favorite show while snacking on something else. She was watching the credits when her font door flew open. She jumped hearing the door slam against the wall, Chinami's heart sank. Did someone break in? She grabbed her phone and slowly climbed out of bed. She dialed 911, but she didn't actually call just in case it was just a false alarm. She peeked her head out of the door way. No one was there. She carefully headed towards the front door. It was wide open and rain was pouring into the house. She looked around, checking any potential hiding spots before closing and locking the door. She sighed at the small pool of water at her feet, but brushed it aside for now. She still wasn't sure she was safe.

Chinami opened every door in the house, looked behind the couch, in the pantry, the closet, cabinets even. Nothing. Just to be sure, she checked her room and outside. Still nothing. She sighed with relief, feeling a weight off her chest. She collected herself before going to get a towel. She took off her jacket and hung it up, then cleaned up the water at the front door. After all the excitement, Chinami wanted nothing more than to lay back down. She trudged to her room, kicked off her house shoes and climbed into bed. Chinami knew she wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. So she grabbed her earbuds and started listening to music. Just laying there, sinking further and further into the rhythm of the song.

It was annoying. It was annoying being suffocated under a bed. At least it was clean. Well, as clean as it could be. Tomura could hear Chinami's soft breathing above him. This wasn't supposed to have happened. He saw the clouds and the fog roll in but it couldn't be helped. He was a long way from home and his last mission was exhausting. Lucky for him, she lived nearby. Chinami was Tomura's newest obsession. He knew the way to her house as if it was his own.

"Such a silly girl." He thought.

He heard her shuffle through the entire house looking for him.

"Such a silly. Little. Girl..."

The one place she didn't look. Under her own bed. He couldn't blame her for not checking, it was a tight fit. If this would've happened before he became the leader of the Paranormal Liberation Front, he probably would've fit better. His slim figure becoming a bit larger after his fight. He carefully crawled out from under her bed, standing up and brushing himself off. He looked down at her sleeping figure. He watched as her chest slowly rose and fell. He could watch her forever but he wanted to shower and then do what he actually came there for and rest. He made his way to her bathroom closing the door behind him. Tomura had been watching Chinami for sometime. He knew that she isn't a heavy sleeper but won't wake up unless her body is directly disturbed. A short shower that blends into the already pouring rain is nothing. He knew she'd sleep right through it.

Afterwards, Tomura simply put back on what he was wearing. Assuming none of Chinami's clothes would fit. He kept a towel around his shoulders as to not get water everywhere and headed to the kitchen. He checked the fridge, nothing. He checked the pantry, nothing. Well, at least nothing he found particularly appetizing. He looked over and saw the muffins Chinami had baked. He wasn't the biggest fan of sweets but curiosity got the better of him and went for one. He just stared at it for a moment; it was strawberry. He finally decided to take a bite, surprised by how much he enjoyed it. He picked up another before heading back to Chinami's room. He watched her from the doorway for a bit. Tomura knew he couldn't sleep with her. Not tonight. She would immediately wake up and he'd lose his place for the night. Tomura decided to sleep on the couch and then leave before she woke up. She would never even know he was there. He left her room and headed for the living room. He plopped down on the couch and turned on the TV. As he was eating, exhaustion finally kicked in forcing Tomura to call it a night and turn off the TV. He laid down and within seconds, he was asleep.

Chinami woke to the sound of birds and the sun streaming through her curtains. She smiled, this was her favorite way to start a day. A huge contrast to the day before. The day before. Instantly, Chinami's smile faded and she no longer felt safe. She didn't even remember falling asleep. What if she had missed a spot? She got out of bed, refusing to even use the bathroom before checking again. She started with her bedroom, then the bathroom. It didn't take long to find her intruder. Chinami's heart sank to her stomach upon seeing him. He was just there. Sleeping. But what made it worse was the realization that it wasn't just some man. It was Shigaraki, She stood frozen, watching him. She didn't know what to do. Calling the police was an option but she left her phone in bed. Even if she had it, she wasn't sure she would even be able to speak. Regardless, Chinami didn't actually want to call the police. She would never say it out loud, but she admired him. So as much as this situation was terrifying, it was also a golden opportunity. Her indecisiveness kept her feet anchored to the ground. Her body was unmoving. while her mind raced. Chinami found herself just staring at him. The longer she looked, the more she noticed about him. His pale skin, a scar across his right eye and one across his lips. Her interest piqued even more seeing the little birth mark below his mouth. It was weird to see amongst his dry and scarred face. But he was beautiful. Pure white strands of hair fell over his face slightly covering his eyes. They we're always so harsh and uninviting, so it was weird seeing him look at her with such a soft and tired expression. Wait. Chinami's heart almost stopped when she realized he was awake. He quickly sat up and she took a step back. She wanted to say something but nothing came out. Her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest. Tomura was staring daggers into her.

"Why the fuck didn't I wake up?" Tomura asked himself.

What if she called the police or a hero? He stood up and walked up to her. Chinami quickly covered her face with her arms, preparing for impact. But nothing came.

"Did you tell anyone about this?" Tomura asked, his voice stern and harsh.

"N-No!"

"If you're lying I won't hesitate to kill you."

It was an empty threat. If anything, with his presence known he would just take her back home with him. Whether she liked it or not. He wasn't going to kill someone so important to him.

"I... I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" Chinami exclaimed.

She was always over-apologetic. Apologizing for the smallest things or nothing at all. She just wanted to make sure that if it was ever her fault, that everyone knew how sorry she was. Even if it was completely out of her control. Tomura was confused.

"If you didn't do anything why are you sorry?"

"I don't know. Sorry."

"Stop."

"Sorry!"

Tomura sighed.

"Why didn't you call anyone? Do you not know who I am?" He asked.

"Yes, I know. I-I just..." Chinami trailed off. "I didn't want you to get ca-caught..." She whispered.

Tomura was shocked. She had protected him.

"You really are something, aren't you?" He said, a smile forming on his face.

"Are you a fan of mine or somethin?"

Chinami didn't reply, only slowly brought her arms back to her sides. She didn't look at him, staring down at her feet instead. Tomura was captivated by her. Finally seeing her up close was exhilarating. She was everything he imagined and more. He grabbed her waist and pulled her close. Chinami quickly looked up at him in shock. Now that she could actually see him, she realized just how tall he was. It was intimidating. Chinami tried to pull away but his grip on her was tight.

"Where are you trying to run off to? If you like me enough not to have me arrested, then this shouldn't be an issue. Should it?" Tomura whispered into her ear.

She whimpered at the feeling of his breath on her, making him chuckle a bit.

"You know Chinami." Her eyes widened. How did he know her name? "You could say I'm a fan of you as well."

"Wha-What...?"

"Mhm... I've been waiting for this day for a while now. And now that I know you feel the same way." He moved from Chinami's ear to face her, his smile growing. "We're gonna be spending a lot more time together..."

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#mha #my hero academia #shigaraki tomura #mha shigaraki #mha tomura #boku no hero academia tomura #boku no hero academia shigaraki #self insert #fanfic #tomura fanfic #writing #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #tomura x self insert #bnha tomura #bnha shigaraki #bnha #tomura shigaraki

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fatedwithmbc · 1 year

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I feel like each time I have something important to do in the morning, I self sabotage my ability to sleep. Tomorrow I am walking a 5K for one of my friends. It’s significant to her because it’s for a cause related to her cancer battle. Despite being in remission she fought hard to get there and should get to celebrate the life she has managed tp carve out for herself after the fact.

I’m just a terrible sleeper… when I need to. If I didn’t need to be asleep right now, I would be already. It’s self sabotage of my sleep. The same thing happens with work. I even skipped some of my nightly routines to make extra time for these “not sleeping” shenanigans. Maybe that’s part of the problem.

In on evening, I would typically:

Color My Mood, after an overview of my day.

Complete the 5 Minute Journal

Set up my Essential Oils Diffuser (Fresh Cut Wood and Lavender this evening).

Pull a Tarot Card and read its meaning.

Pull a Color Card (Oracle Deck) and read its meaning.

Read The Daily Stoic

Do Wordle and Connections

Then I would half-ass make my bed and spray it with lavender, pick a television show, take my medications and poop out in 40ish minutes. IT IS NOT WORKING TONIGHT. Nothing is working. I even had a little snack.

The storm we’re experiencing should be helping with the thunder, sounds of the rain drops, the essence of its smell mixed with my diffuser. And the chill it’s brining, encouraging use of a blanket— of course one that is waffle textured. But I think I still have a lot on my mind from the past two weeks.

Last week, my iPad broke. The screen became unresponsive. The literal “genius” at the Apple Store wiped my device clean but never reordered my replacement. I then called Apple who ordered and express shipment of a new iPad. When I received that, it literally still had someone else’s information on it and had the same issue as my broken IPad. I went back to the Apple Store only to be told to send back the replacement and then start all over and for a 2nd express shipment for the original broken one. I finally got a working ipad but I had to manually download every single application, why?

Well, in between all of the above having happened, my Apple ID was hacked, my bank accounts, my Apple Card, basically anything on my iPhone was hacked as well. So, explaining this 600 times to get things fixed has been a gem. I am also no longer eligible for the Apple Card as they are tied to our Apple ID. Since my old one is compromised, they cannot issue me a new card. Despite having a new Apple ID.

I have always been an avid and vocal fan for Apple, but after the last two weeks and the level of customer service between them and GoldmanSachs, I can’t say I’m giving out any rave reviews right now. There was one person at the Genius Bar who attempted to go above and beyond for me, but got shot down by his managers, but kudos to this guy and his empathy and his willingness to admit Apple made mistakes they should have been fixing.

So, this was my saga — and it still continues. Subscriptions I had on Apple Card are popping up for renewal and I have to change payment methods. And I have fear of putting any electronic payment information on my iPhone at all at this point. But in the world we live in, it’s sort of a must. I’ve talked to my friends and trusted Mom-Mom about my issue, but clearly it’s still been ruminating in my brain. I think because tonight I finally got my iPad to work how I need and want it, I feel like the issue is concluded-FINALLY.

Additionally, I went back to work on Tuesday. I don’t know where I fit in anymore. They’ve functioned so long without me and things that we my projects have long since been passed on to others. I’m also struggling with working from home still. This lifestyle is NOT for people who must do so out of the same room that they sleep and relax. Maybe if my room were larger and I had more space to move around it would make some more sense for me. But pre-pandemic, this would not fly at all with corporate, so it amazes me that it’s STILL ok with corporate three years later. There’s rumbling of making everyone hybrid and I am championing that in the worst way. I would go now, I wish I could go now, I technically could, I suppose. But the problem with that is - is anyone else going? Will I be alone. Being alone at home is easier than being alone in the office. I know nothing will be perfect. I just wish I could have SOMETHING, just ANYTHING feel like it was going right.

Medically, I feel like we’re on a good path with my CDK46 inhibitor and my estrogen inhibitor. I am far less sick that I have been during the entire time I was on therapy number one. It does cause neutropenia, which increases my chances of infections, colds and just generally getting sick. So, I have to be very careful, which I’m not. I still function regularly. Run errands, go out with friends as I can, do 5K’s (walking, of course), and just try to live. I only get this life to live, so maybe that’s why I’m not as careful as I should be in terms of masking, handwashing, hand sanitizing, etc.

Well, I am still feeling wide awake, but running out of content to talk about. I may try to do some of my “routine” and see if that helps make me tired.

Thanks for being here and reading.

El Fin.

#fated with mbc #confessions of a cancer patient #stage iv deserves more #metastatic breast cancer #stage iv metastatic breast cancer #breast cancer

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crimson-vow · 7 years

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#the first hours of new year’s day when you took care of me because i drank too much #when you thanked me for scratching your head for so long because you were sure i was bored and i was but i would do anything for you #when you asked me why i didnt drink any of my bluetooth but you meant to say root beer and we laughed forever because you had no idea where #that came from #saying silly things in silly voices #offering to buy me snacks in the middle of the night #even begging me to let you do something nice for me #driving to smoothie king only to have them close the door in your face and calling me to ask if i wanted anything else #crying into my shoulder in the dark in the parking lot outside your house telling me you love me and that youre sorry #crying into my shoulder in my room and begging me to be okay and telling me youre sorry #our last kiss together with tears streaming down my face #asking me if you were going to see me again soon #saying my name and telling me you love me in that breathy voice #comforting me when i had shortfalls but never accepting comfort when you did the same #gazing lovingly at me in bed or in the shower #sleeping in your tiny bed pressing myself against the wall so you would have room #sleeping in my larger bed offering you the nicer pillow every time #admiring your gorgeous face in the perfect morning sunlight coming through my window #looking cute in every hat and pair of sunglasses #putting stickers on everything #adoring movies and shows that are targeted toward kids #showing me all your favorite music #thinking of stupid ways to say names #getting drunk early on and expressing how much you liked me and saying i was too good for you #the scent of your shampoo and your body wash and the air freshener in your car #the feeling of kissing you #the feeling of your body on top of me and beneath me and beside me #the feeling of your attraction to me #personal #holding me in your lap and telling me you were lucky to have me

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andypantsx3 · 3 years

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JUST MY (BLOOD) TYPE : TODOROKI SHOUTO x READER

SUMMARY: The real Halloween treat was how sinfully handsome Todoroki Shouto looked in his vampire costume. But that wouldn't be enough to save him from the petty wrath of one drunk lobster. (In which you suffer deeply, wingwoman a friend, and pick a fight with the hottest boy at UA.) TAGS/WARNINGS: romance, sfw, halloween, misunderstandings, aged-up characters, underage drinking, drunk kissing (the characters knowingly and purposefully keep it to kissing only, and everyone is happy about it, but reader is def tipsy), fem pronouns + afab reader LENGTH: 5.3k NOW WITH INCREDIBLE ART FROM THE SUPER TALENTED @tangyglowsticks!

You hadn’t been serious when you’d said it.

At least, not at first—not until you saw how much it could mean to your best friend, how much it could alleviate her insecurities.

It had started as a joke, meant to encourage Eiko to stop being a self-deprecating idiot, and start working up the guts to ask her crush out. The UA third years were throwing a halloween party in the Class A dorms, and it would be the perfect opportunity for Eiko to make her move. You had been working on her for the better part of an hour, wheedling, trying every single angle—until you came to the final, extremely regrettable comment that set everything into motion.

“It’s Sero Hanta,” Eiko wailed, from where she was currently sprawled atop your covers with a pile of snacks and her homework, taking up your entire bed. “He’d never be into me.”

You rolled over from your spot on the floor to glare balefully up at her. “Sero Hanta is a confirmed straight boy. There is absolutely no reason why he wouldn’t be into you like one hundred percent of all other men on this earth.”

If three years at UA had taught you anything, it was that every flavor of man—business student, general course, support course, or hero track—was always interested in Eiko. She was a tiny thing, with shiny dark hair, pert features, and a sweet-tempered charm. Even Bakugou Katsuki wasn’t immune, remembering his manners enough to mutter a “sorry” when he bumped her in the halls—instead of declaring her an extra and demanding she retreat before him like the tides before Moses, which seemed to be his standard for handling everyone else.

Eiko had had a bevvy of admirers since your first day of classes, and their ranks had only grown larger over time. There was no way Sero wouldn’t be into her. She was too pretty, too interesting, and too sweet.

But she was also inexplicably far too shy for her own good.

And far too whipped for one gangly, tape-themed future hero to see they were of the same league.

“There’s going to be a million girls at the party, there’s no reason why I should stand out to him,” Eiko said, running a hand through her dark tresses, before throwing it down on your pillow in apparent exasperation.

You rolled your eyes. There was no reasoning with her when she was like this. You would just have to play along.

You patted your chin as if in thought. “Hmm. If that’s the case, then we’ll just have to make you stand out.”

Eiko blinked, like she hadn’t considered this. “How? I’m just...me.”

God if she wasn’t your best friend you could have strangled her for how oblivious she was.

You’d have liked her less, you supposed, if she was actually as up her own butt as she rightfully should be, but this was bordering on idiotic. She was already going to be the hottest girl at that party, in the tiny black dress and cute little cat ears she’d shown you earlier today.

She’d stand out by just existing.

“I don’t know,” you said, picking your phone up off the floor and absently scrolling. “We’ll spend extra time on your makeup. We can put fun chalk and glitter in your hair. We can hire you a phalanx of men to bear you around like a queen. I’ll even stand next to you dressed as a frigging lobster if I have to—then you’ll look insanely good by comparison.”

You expected a snort to issue from her direction—and it did.

But not before there was a slightly too-long pause, like she had briefly considered the idea.

“....You’re serious,” you said, sitting up. “You want me to?”

Eiko looked horrified. “No, I don’t want you to! You have to be cute, too! What if there is some boy you end up wanting to get to know?”

You’d met the majority of third-year boys, and they generally did not want to get to know you, so her point was immaterial. Even Todoroki Shouto, who was reputed among your classmates for his princely manners, seemed openly mystified by your very existence.

In your opinion you’d done nothing wrong, the few times you’d interacted with him—on school-cleaning rotation, in joint-class assignments, at third-year movie nights—but he seemed perplexed by you nevertheless.

Your first meeting had been in the dorm basements, where he’d stood, looking handsome but utterly lost, like some tragic prince from an ancient ballad. He was gazing helplessly between a basket of laundry, a bottle of detergent, and the washing machines, and you couldn’t stifle the laugh that burst its way out of you.

You’d made your way over, gathered just enough information from him to determine that his laundry had always been done by hired house staff, and then proceeded to talk him through the process of doing his own in your least judgmental tones. You also took care to also detail what he was going to do when it came time to use the dryers, laughing when he acted as though they were going to wake up and bite him.

You made light conversation with him while he worked through the process, and then you’d dumped in your own laundry and bade him farewell. You’d thought the entire interaction had been normal enough, as you hadn’t talked for that long or discussed anything super serious.

You guessed you must have stepped wrong somewhere, however, as ever since then, Todoroki had watched you with that same little wrinkle on his brows, like he was just as confused by your existence as he was the washing machines downstairs. You tried your best to act normal whenever you ran into him after that, but nothing seemed to disabuse him of his prejudices.

Whatever.

Anyway, boys were not the point of this Halloween party for you—not even the princely ones who were nice to look at. You were going just to hang out with Eiko, indulge in whatever punch Class A was undoubtedly going to spike, and have fun with your group of girlfriends. But you appreciated Eiko’s consideration anyway.

“Eiko, if you really need it, I will absolutely wingwoman you in a lobster costume,” you said, though the thought truly did horrify you.

“No,” Eiko said. “I don’t need a confidence boost that bad. I’ll just—I can deal with Sero not being interested in me—I’m tough.”

And you knew she meant it, but you also could hear the tiniest hitch in her voice. Your skin itched with the need to do something, to make all her troubles go away. There would be no room for insecurities, not on your watch.

Fucking hell, you could not believe the kind of shit you would do for her.

“Well, too bad, because now I’m kind of invested in the idea,” you said, already thumbing through Amazon to find a suitable monstrosity. A violently red onesie with bulging black eyes and a wild array of antennae on the hood caught your attention almost immediately.

“Y/N!” she chided, but you were already decided.

Forty dollars and one night of mild embarrassment were a small price to pay for your friend’s emotional security. And it wasn’t like you would have reeled in any cute boys anyway, and it was basically a free conversation starter. Plus there was no doubt in your mind Sero would be utterly smitten with Eiko—all you had to do was see her to the finish line.

And you could do that.

You could totally, totally do that.

“Oh my god, what are you wearing?” Mina demanded as she ushered you into the 3-A dorms. Her dark eyes almost bulged out of her head.

Mina never made any pretense of hiding her feelings on a subject, and her expression was especially open now, her mouth gaping wide in some combination of shock and horrified delight.

You waved a dismissive claw at Eiko. “She’s a cat, obviously. Be nice, she looks cute.”

“I meant you,” Mina said, laughing. She was dressed as what appeared to be some wholly indiscernible cross between a sexy cowboy and a sexy French maid. You didn’t dare ask any questions.

“I’m wingwomaning,” you said by way of explanation. “Anyone who wants a hookup just needs to stand next to me, and their appeal automatically increases by visual association.”

Mina snorted. “Truly noble of you. Let’s get you some punch, then, as a thank you for your sacrifice.”

You followed her obediently as she led the way to the kitchen, which was stuffed full of assorted treats—cookies cooling on a wire rack, various snack bowls boasting chips and neon-orange cheese curls, and numerous torn and half-emptied bags of candy. Several suspiciously radioactive-looking containers of liquid sat nearby.

Mina plunged a ladle into a pool of electric blue and you tried not to think about the distinctive, not-entirely-liquid splat it made as it hit the bottom of a solo cup.

“Mama Mina’s own recipe,” she chirped as she handed it over. “The secret ingredient is love—and by love I do mean Rubinoff.”

Oh god.

Well, you were drinking to forget the costume choice you had made this evening. Perhaps something electric blue and toxic-tasting would be in order.

You took a reluctant sip, cringing. Oh yes, it would definitely serve its purpose.

Mina then led you and Eiko into the common room where a crush of people were already dancing, laughing, and mingling.

Someone had dimmed the lights, and the room had been festooned with what looked like an entire Party City’s worth of Halloween decor—black cut-out bats taped to every imaginable surface, black and orange streamers criss-crossing the high ceilings, and approximately eighty-thousand orange balloons with jack-o-lantern faces drawn on. Towards the back of the room, you could see a bunch of smaller ones, barely the size of your palm, where whoever had been responsible for blowing them up had clearly stopped caring.

Class A themselves looked like they’d gone all out with their costumes, too. You spotted several All Mights (Midoriya, Sato) chatting up a blood-streaked Little Red Riding Hood (Asui), and there was a tangle of classic monsters in the corner consisting of an alien, a werewolf, one Frankenstein and two mermaids. Eiko’s hand shot out and grabbed one of your claws as Sero brushed by, dressed as the world’s lankiest Spiderman.

Very on-the-nose.

“Go talk to him,” you told Eiko, but she shook her head.

“I’m not ready,” she whispered, sounding stricken.

You clicked your tongue and nudged her cup back up towards her mouth. “Then let’s get a little more neon blue courage in there, huh?”

She took an obedient sip, and you steered her over to a group of girls in the corner, consisting of a couple of your business and support course friends, plus Uraraka Ochako and Jiro Kyouka. Jiro immediately demanded to know what was up with your costume, and you downed the rest of satan’s cocktail at the reminder.

You stayed and chatted with the girls for a long time, occasionally running back and forth to the kitchen to get snacks or fetch more of the horrible blue drink. Over the course of an hour or so, Eiko’s shoulders unwound, and she grew rosy-cheeked and smiley. You were also definitely feeling the effects of Mina’s concoction, and eventually you realized you needed to strike soon, while you were both still mostly coherent.

You managed to guide Eiko away, and over to the couches where Sero sat with a couple of your business classmates and several hero course boys, including Kaminari Denki—whose costume was as incomprehensible as Mina’s had been—and Kirishima, who was some kind of shirtless samurai type of deal. Todoroki Shouto propped up the wall nearby, looking unfairly handsome in a red doublet and high-collared black cape, two tiny fangs poking out over his plush bottom lip—a vampire.

The costume was made even more realistic by the fact that he was far prettier than any human man should have been allowed to be. He looked especially good tonight, with those finely-wrought features, that straight blade of a nose, and that alarmingly perceptive gaze. Really, he looked like he should be lounging across the throne of some European principality, rather than nursing a solo cup beside an obtrusively large bowl of shrimp chips. But then, you supposed, even dark princes probably needed to let loose sometimes.

Then you reminded yourself that he wasn’t interested in you, and it was a lost cause anyway.

But Eiko’s efforts need not be wasted.

“Yo, loving the costume,” Kaminari said, grinning. You could tell he meant you, from the incredulous rise of his eyebrows as his eyes flicked over you.

But you demurred, sensing an opening. “Yeah, she looks cute as a cat, doesn’t she?”

As one, several male pairs of eyes shifted over to Eiko’s tiny dress, trailing appreciatively from her adorable cat ears down the fit of her dress, all the way to the pink toe beans she’d stuck to her sweet little ankle boots. You watched as Sero’s eyes widened, and his throat bobbed just the tiniest bit.

Bingo.

“You guys know Eiko, right?” you prompted. Kaminari and Kirishima chirped their hellos.

“Hi Eiko,” Sero said, sounding kind of hoarse.

God this was turning out to be even easier than you’d imagined. Maybe the lobster costume really was the ultimate wingwoman fit. Though the cat costume appeared to be more than pulling its own weight, too.

Todoroki didn’t appear to be eyeing up Eiko with the same kind of masculine appreciation, but he had most definitely turned in your direction, and that heterochromatic gaze slid contemplatively over the two of you. A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

You shifted defensively in front of Eiko. Todoroki was cute, but Sero had dibs.

“We were just debating whether the Attack on Titan manga is better than the anime and none of the girls had seen it,” you said, though you had been doing no such thing. But Eiko was a big nerd, and you knew from her poetic waxings on the subject of Sero that he was just as big a nerd, if not more so.

This was a conversation opener meant for the two of them.

“Oh definitely the manga,” Sero said, and Kaminari groaned.

“Do not get this dude started, all he does is read manga,” he complained.

You gave Eiko a nudge, but before she could jump in, a low voice intoned from the side of the couch, “Manga is generally preferable.”

You turned to stare at Todoroki. It was a surprise to you that he’d had any opinion on the matter. You didn’t really think him the type, although now that you were thinking about it, you maybe vaguely recalled Eiko recounting a few manga volumes she’d seen him lending Sero…

Todoroki stared back at you, looking interested in a response.

Too interested.

Your eyes narrowed. He better not be attempting to get in between Eiko and Sero.

“Um, and why is that?” Eiko piped up from over your shoulder.

It felt like Todoroki’s eyes didn’t move, so he must have already been looking in her direction, instead of at your face like you’d thought. It was hard to tell in the dimmed light of the common room.

You tried to arrange your costume to take up more space, blocking Eiko from his sightlines.

“Generally, literary storytelling is less immersive, so active engagement from the reader is required. You bring more of your own experiences into the reading, so you engage more with the ideals the author puts forth,” Todoroki said. His voice was low and smooth, almost hypnotizing in the dim. “For an ideal-driven story line that asks the questions Attack on Titan does, a literary medium delivers that engagement better.”

You found yourself strangely lulled by the softness of his deep tone, and impressed by his input, almost enough that you forgot to be annoyed with him.

Almost.

No one gave an answer like that unless they were trying to impress, and there was currently only one of you worth impressing here. The other was in a fucking lobster suit.

“That’s—um, a really good point, actually,” you eyed him, then turned back to Eiko and Sero. “Sero, what is your favorite manga?”

Sero answered and this time Eiko hit the mark, piping up before Todoroki could slide in. She professed to liking the same manga, and it was mere seconds before they were grinning at each other like a pair of fools.

You gave yourself a mental pat on the back at how neatly that had been managed, but then Todoroki cut in with a question, drawing your attention back to him.

You wanted to reach over and strangle him with his cravat.

For the next few minutes, you tried valiantly to steer the conversation to something that highlighted any connection Sero and Eiko might have had. Kaminari and Kirishima definitely clued in on what you were doing, and gave you the berth to do so. But Todoroki kept adding comments in that brain-meltingly deep tone, smart and insightful, and you needed him to shut his perfect fucking mouth before he ruined everything.

But he kept going.

Eventually, it got to the point where you had to step in and take action.

“Todoroki, can I borrow you for a minute?” you asked tightly, waving a lobster claw at him. “I’d like your help with a refill.”

Todoroki’s mouth pulled into a tiny smile, and your heartbeat stumbled over itself.

“You may,” he intoned, pushing off the wall.

As he stepped closer, you caught the scent of something rich and dark, almost warm like spiced rum, and your skin prickled. Your eyes snagged on the fit of his doublet, and way the drape of his cloak only emphasized his broad shoulders and trim waist. That shoulder-to-waist ratio was frankly even more intoxicating than Mina's poisonous blue drink, and for a quick second you forgot what you had been on about.

Todoroki's long fingers gently tugged your cup out of the clumsy clasp of a lobster claw, and the sight of your own costume helped jolt your memory. Right, this was about Eiko. You needed to clear the way for Eiko, and that meant putting Todoroki in his place, his perfect fucking face and his perfect fucking body be damned.

He was a tall line of heat at your back as you led him somewhat unsteadily through the crowds of the common room, almost tripping once or twice. Now that you were moving, that blue drink was definitely making itself known. Todoroki pressed a warm hand to the small of your back to keep you upright, and the feeling of it shorted all your brain circuits, enough that you almost forgot your plan again.

You skirted the kitchen and lead the way into the hall that stepped up to the stairs. Todoroki looked puzzled, but followed you through the doors.

“Are you well?” he asked.

You whirled on him, catching a hand on the wall to steady yourself. “Listen, just because you’re the hottest person who’s ever set foot on this campus, that doesn’t mean you can just do whatever you want.”

Todoroki stared at you, his full mouth parting. Those tiny fangs peeked out again. “The hottest...whatever I want?”

Whoops, you hadn’t meant to say that first part. What in the hell was in those fucking drinks?

You growled. “You know, the whole smart and sexy thing. Knock it the hell off. Eiko is interested in Sero.”

A white eyebrow went up. Todoroki looked just as mystified by you as he usually did. “And what does your friend’s interest in Sero have to do with it?”

Wow, he was going to torpedo his own friend? You’d thought him the gallant type but maybe he was a huge dickhead?

“What the hell do you mean?” you asked him, waving a lobster claw threateningly in his face. He looked kind of like he wanted to laugh, not at all appropriately intimidated, which only fueled your fire.

“You can’t impress her, she’s off limits to you,” you said. “You could have literally any other girl on earth. So please just let her and Sero have this thing.”

Todoroki’s eyebrows climbed into his hairline, and he stared at you for a long time before speaking.

“I should think her interests irrelevant,” he said finally, “seeing as she is not the one I’d intended to impress.” In the light of the stairwell, his eyes looked especially bright, his blue eye almost luminescent.

This gave you pause. You lowered your claw as if withdrawing a weapon. “She’s...not?”

Todoroki shook that distinctive mop of hair.

Your arm fell to your side, your anger instantly retreating like the tide. “Oh. Oh. Sorry for getting in your way, then. I didn’t realize there was someone else.”

You wondered who it was he’d meant to impress, if not Eiko. One of his friends, then? Or was there a girl nearby who could have been listening in?

Todoroki watched you with a strange half-smile on his perfect mouth. Now that your anger had fled you, it was almost unnerving to be the sole focus of that distinctive two-toned gaze. He really was far too handsome to be allowed—and especially when you took into account that intellect and that brain-numbingly deep voice. And when you thought about how cute he had been that time with the washers. And especially when you were very tipsy and wanted nothing more than to lean forward and kiss him.

You reminded yourself he wasn’t yours to kiss. And you were in a fucking lobster suit, and tonight wasn’t about you anyway.

You shifted, then, getting kind of restless. “Well, okay. I really only pulled you out here to, um, threaten you. So I’ll—uh, go now,” you babbled. “And I am actually perfectly capable of getting my own drink, sorry for pulling you away. And, um, sorry I called you hot.”

You’d barely taken a step back before a hand caught your elbow gently.

“Actually, perhaps there is something you might help me with,” Todoroki said.

You looked up at him, praying he was not about to ask additional questions about the comments you’d let slip.

Todoroki thankfully side-stepped that issue. “Since you are so keen to help your friend, I thought—if I am...interested in someone, and that someone does not seem to realize it. What might be the proper way to indicate such attentions?”

You gaped at him. He wanted love advice? Now? From a girl dressed as a lobster?

Well okay, so you probably owed him for being so patient with you while you made a huge clown of yourself. It was only fair you paid him back somehow. You supposed if you were going to wingwoman Eiko, you could try to wingwoman Todoroki too.

Not that he really needed it, with a face and voice like that. Probably all he needed to do was go up to the girl and kiss her. You knew he was into manners and whatever, but realistically, there wasn’t a girl alive who wouldn’t appreciate that kind of attention from him. And whatever kind of attention that led to.

Todoroki laughed, a deep chuckle, and your face went hot when you realized you’d accidentally said all of that out loud.

Damn the fucking blue drink.

“Oh my god, please ignore me,” you said, toes curling in utter mortification. “This is Mina’s fault—this drink is basically poison—I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, I’m right that she’d like it, probably, but I’m not hitting on you, I swear—”

Todoroki stepped forwards, and you shifted, allowing him a clear path to the door. But he just followed you, stepping closer again.

“The drink does make this somewhat complicated,” Todoroki said, eyes flicking over you. “Anything other than a kiss would be bad manners, I think. I will have to ask again in the morning.”

You stared up at him, confused by the way his face suddenly looked like it was so much nearer to yours. He pressed a thumb to his cute little fake fangs, drawing them out of his mouth.

“But a kiss would do for now,” he said, his voice soft.

Your brain had just managed to scrape together your concerningly few remaining neurons to start piecing together his meaning—

And then he caught you under the chin, and kissed you on the mouth.

Your brain instantly turned to jello.

Todoroki kissed exactly like you might have imagined, and yet nothing alike it at all. His kiss was soft and warm and sweeter than any kiss had any right to be, but it was underlaid with a restrained kind of intensity—like the heat of his discerning gaze or the cut of a sharp comment in his soft tone. It did all kinds of strange things to your nervous system, your entire body feeling like a live wire, nerve endings alight and limbs growing shivery.

Todoroki pressed you closer to the wall, pinning you there as if anticipating your knees suddenly going right out from underneath you. You gripped his collar points, letting out an appreciative noise, and pulled him closer. His thumb pressed your chin up for a better angle, and he did something truly wicked with his tongue, not nearly princely at all.

By the time you regained any semblance of coherent thought, you’d apparently managed to work a thigh up over his side, as far as your horrible fucking costume would allow, and Todoroki was holding it against him in one large palm. He sighed when he finally let your mouth free. Your entire focus narrowed to his mouth and how to get it back onto yours as quickly as possible.

And then maybe other places if he would let you.

Todoroki cleared his throat, however, stepping away from you. “I hope that cleared things up,” he said.

You felt the loss of his body heat keenly, squirming in displeasure.

Cleared...what up?

You wracked your brain for the snippets of conversation you’d had before he’d kissed you. It was so hard to focus when your brain was the consistency of pudding...

He’d said something about liking someone...no, wait—how to make it clear to someone you liked them—

I hope that cleared things up.

You were startled into an incredulous laugh.

You? Todoroki Shouto was interested in you? And now of all times? When you were drunk off your butt, wandering around in a lobster costume, dragging unsuspecting boys into stairwells and threatening them? That couldn’t be right...

“I’m in a lobster costume,” was all your brain managed.

Todoroki’s mouth quirked. “I’d noticed.”

“So you can’t mean—uh, I’d hate to be misinterpreting you here,” you hedged.

Todorki’s eyes darkened, and he leaned it like it had been an invitation.

“Shall I clarify again?” he asked.

You froze up, nodding dumbly.

Todoroki smiled, a heartrending grin that sent your pulse straight into overdrive, and then his mouth pressed to yours again.

If he’d meant to clarify, he was doing it all wrong, as your thoughts instantly went all tangled up and muddled. You couldn’t think beyond the press of his mouth, the heat of one large hand on your back, the need to press close enough to him that there was negative space between his body and yours. He kissed you quite thoroughly, until you were boneless and pliant against the wall again.

“I like you,” Todoroki said, when he finally let you up again. “The costume is no object.” He reached up to pull on an antennae with surprising affection. “It would be improper of me to show you just how appealing I find you, given how much you’ve had to drink. But I will find you tomorrow, and reiterate my suit.”

You just watched him dumbly, disbelieving.

Todoroki Shouto had just claimed he was interested in you. Todoroki Shouto had just kissed you. Todoroki Shouto didn’t even mind the lobster costume!

You were saved from whatever garbled response you might have given him by the stairwell door opening. Eiko’s cute little cat ears poked through. You froze in Todoroki's hold.

“Y/N! There you are!” she chirped happily. “Oh, and—Todoroki, hi!”

She stared between the two of you for a second, before her eyebrows started to rise. “Wait. Ohhhh,” she said.

Hot embarrassment scorched your cheeks, and you waved an arm wildly, shoving yourself away from him. “Wait, no, this isn’t what it looks like. Todoroki was just, um, telling me—”

“—that I am interested in her,” Todoroki finished, shooting down your defenses in a single shot. Your head whipped up to stare at him, but he seemed disinclined to deny it.

Instead, he leaned back in, pressing another chaste kiss to your mouth. “And I mean it," he said softly. "I’ll find you again tomorrow. Good night, Y/N.”

You let out some garbled kind of "fwuhh" noise, and Todoroki's face went very still, like he was trying not to laugh. He lingered just a moment more, smiling a very tiny half-smile. And then he was gone. You slumped in the stairwell with your heartbeat racing approximately thirty billion miles an hour.

Eiko looked as flabbergasted as you felt. “Oh my god, Todoroki likes you? Why didn’t you tell me?”

You stared at the door where Todoroki had disappeared. “I didn’t...know...Did that really just happen?”

Eiko’s smile was so wide it took up half her face. “Well, well, well. Looks like I’m not the only one who scored a date this weekend, huh?”

A date! The word sank through the haze Todoroki’s kiss had put you in. You perked up, a grin worming its way across your face. “Sero asked you on a date? Oh my god, see? I fucking told you!”

Eiko looked shy, but happy. Her cheeks practically glowed. “Yeah," she said happily. "Walk me back to the business dorms? I want to tell you all about it! And I want to hear all about you and Todoroki.”

You agreed, laughing at how pink she was turning. “Look at you, you didn’t even need me.”

She rolled her eyes, looping an arm through yours and guiding you towards the exit. “I will always need you. God, he’s so hot I don’t even know what to do. I would have never started a conversation with him on my own. And I will honestly never be able to repay you for wearing the fucking lobster costume. It’s like a matchmaking charm.”

You laughed in disbelief.

Though...maybe she didn’t entirely have it wrong.

Todoroki hadn’t been deterred, it seemed. He’d appeared determined to kiss you, despite the costume. He'd even pulled one of your antennae, like he'd even possibly found it amusing.

And if you hadn't been wingwomaning Eiko, you'd never have pulled Todoroki aside in the first place. You'd never have even gone up to that group of Class A boys to begin with, either. And if you hadn't been dressed like an idiot, you'd have drank less, too, which is really how you'd accidentally revealed to Todoroki you were into him at all.

You let Eiko guide you out into the night, unable to stop grinning like a loon.

So come to think of it, okay. Maybe there was something to be said for the stupid thing after all.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x you #shouto todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki #bnha x reader #todoroki x reader

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dateko · 3 years

Text

Satoru does not live with you, but he sure likes to act like does.

Over the years, he has gradually made himself a norm in your daily routines and disrupted all of the schedules you’ve made for yourself. After all, Satoru hates routine. And it’s obvious when he continues to casually invite himself over even when you’re not home. It no longer surprises you when you come home to the sight of him sprawled all over your couch, accompanied with various sugary snacks in his arms. Also, you’ve grown numb to his surprise visits into the bathroom while you’re using the toilet.

“Can’t you wait?” You ask, embarrassed.

“No can do, sweets. Need to look at you while I brush my teeth.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Disgustingly in love with you.”

Well, you can’t even complain because you love him too much. At this point, the two of you practically live together. You can’t quite remember when you decided he could have a copy of your key, but because he was so excited that the two of you could have matching Hello Kitty and Dear Daniel keychains, you let him have his moment. Also, he pays for your rent.

You’re still not used to seeing your bathroom sink cluttered with both of your selfcare products or to the sight of his larger shoes neatly aligned beside your smaller ones. There’s a softness in your heart that you can’t quite pinpoint yet. You feel it when you’re working into the later hours of the night and you spot Satoru leaning against the doorframe, asking you when you’ll come to bed with him. You feel it when he reaches the top shelf just to get your favorite cup or when he stocks up your pantry with both of your favorite snacks. The domesticity of it all is getting to you. Maybe you should just get married and move in already, but that’s a thought for another day.

Adoration is one thing in your heart that you’ve identified and you feel it every morning you wake up beside Satoru. You’ve got too much pride to tell him this yourself and you know it’ll just inflate that head of his, but you really love when Satoru wakes up before you or when he attempts to spoil you with breakfast in bed and you have to tell him that you can't eat anything radioactive until 6pm.

This would not be a thought you’d be having if you didn’t include what kind of gracious morning the both of you have each day. Well, really, you don’t wake up glamorous at all. You’re groggy, stinky, and have a long trail of dried spit on the side of your face. But today’s morning is a good morning. Sort of.

A pair of soft lips ghost their way across your shoulder, waking you up. You blindly place a hand on the owner’s cheek, sitting up a bit so you can squint at him properly. The room is silent except for the soft giggles and greetings you exchange with your boyfriend. His hands loosely lay on the side of your waist and he smiles, taking pride in the way you hold each other in the sheets as the morning light slips through the blinds. Whenever he looks at you, your breath hitches every time. They’re a particular blue you could never name. A sight you could never get tired of. It’s like swimming in the deep made entirely of him. Reflective of what it’s like to be in love with him. You like how it feels when you see your own self reflected in his eyes.

“Like what you see?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, causing you to throw a leg over his torso and roll your eyes.

You card your finger though his snowy locks with a sigh and he looks down at you with a slightly serious expression on his face. You’ve got an inkling on what he’s thinking about.

“Can I ask what’s on the menu for breakfast?” He jokes, his eyebrows dancing once again.

Already used to this overused question, you pull yourself up to kiss the corner of his mouth gently. “Hmm… How about me n you?”

Satoru chuckles softly at you, “You always come up with the best plans, babe.” He brings your hand playing with his ear to his lips, making sure to look at you lovingly as he kisses each of your fingertips and you can’t help but blush. For as long as you’ve known him, Gojo Satoru has always made you blush and you wonder if you’ll be falling in love with him over and over again for the rest of your life. A gasp leaves your lips after his last kiss and he shifts himself so he’s looking down at you in your love stricken expression. You settle back into the pillows with a sigh, thankful for a day off and finally having the time to yourselves in the white sheets and light.

The blue eyes above you are studying, pleading without needing any words. He’s about to say something while you're eyeing his boxers when your phone rings from the bedside table. You groan, scrabbling for it before Satoru can pick up and tell whoever’s on the other line that he’s literally about to blow your back out and then some.

It’s work.

You and Satoru both groan, listening to your boss ask you to come in on your day off. When you end the call, Satoru is looking down at you with a pout. While you wish you could give yourselves ten minutes of indulgence, you rub his arm with a playful and reassuring smile. “Duty calls, baby. Besides, you’re a big boy right? You got it.”

When you kick the duvet off and move to change into your work attire, you’re half expecting Satoru to pull you back and ask you to call in sick, but your boyfriend has already left (teleported) and you wonder if he really did go take care of his little dilemma on his own.

There’s a loud clunk that seems to be coming from the kitchen and you peer down the loft to find the boyfriend in question hurriedly make an easy lunch for you. Your heart melts. You could get used to this.

Hastily finishing the skincare routine and reaching for your coat, you run down the stairs to grab everything else. But before you can leave, a large hand pulls you back into the kitchen. “Forgetting something?”

“‘Course not.” You plant a chaste kiss on the boyfriend’s lips. “Have a good morning, baby.”

Before you could slip away for the third time this morning, Satoru makes sure to make an announcement in the hallway. “And don’t forget we’re continuing where we left off as soon as you come home, okay?”

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #bye this better work #ignore me reposting this like i'm a lil crazy #also this is just hot trash all i can find in me to write is domestic aus #someone help me... FREE ME!!!!

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sugamamacustard · 3 years

Text

Feed Me

Pairing: Alpha! Keiji Akaashi X Omega! Reader, Alpha! Wakatoshi Ushijima x Omega! Reader, Alpha! Rintaro Suna x Omega! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Request: Ooooo what about when Alphas 🐘 ( maybe akaashi, ushijima, rin and kuroo) find out that their omega has not been eating enough like (their only eating little things like granola bars or fruit) so their upset that they had to find out through someone else and they scold them for that but then their told that they have gain some weight and that gets them even more upset because they think their perfect etc.

Summary: Some times, people do things because it’s what they think is best. You don’t tell your alpha about some weight gain you’ve noticed, and try taking care of it yourself because of this.

Author’s Note: Hey, you. Yeah you. The beautiful person reading this? You are perfect. You are worth it. Your feelings are valid and you shouldn’t feel bad about having them. You are so amazing, and even if I don’t know you, I am so proud of you. You are so strong for making it so far. Keep going. Never change. :) Also your nice comments? Literally my dose of serotonin

did I mention my OC one or twice? Yes. Am I sorry? No. Also, idk if anyone is curious, but Yuka doesn't actually go to Shiritorizawa but whatever.

Requests: Closed!

Buy me a coffee?

Trigger Warning: Mentions of (Semi?) Starvation.

Keiji Akaashi

➵Now, Keiji is pretty on top of omega and significant other care.

➵ Like, weirdly so. It's honestly kind of creepy?

➵ In an endearing way.

➵ He always says 'Bokuto-Kun prepared me in a way.'

➵ Honestly, he loves doing this for you too!

➵He loves caring for you so much.

➵ Like I firmly believe Akaashi's love language is acts of service.

➵ So things like bringing you food, leaving sweet notes in your locker, helping you with your homework.

➵ He lives for doing these things.

➵ Especially feeding you snacks and things.

➵ It made his inner alpha purr because that meant he was caring for you. Providing for you.

➵ Being the very thing that made him worthy of an alpha.

➵ Prove that he could continue being the alpha you needed and wanted.

➵ Unfortunately, there were downsides.

➵ Your hips had the beginnings of small love handles, a little more chub on you tummy, thighs a little squishier.

➵ Let's not lie, Keiji absolutely adored this, by the way.

➵ I also think one of his biggest kinks is praise

➵ He makes sure you know how loved and how perfect you are.

➵ It's sometimes hard to believe him though.

___

"Y/N?"

You hummed an acknowledgment at Keiji's call, typing the final words to your essay before turning to look at your beautiful alpha- Sometimes you questioned how you hooked him. His gorgeous emerald eyes shining with love and adoration.

"I'm gonna go run and pick up some supper, what would you like beloved?" He came up to squeeze and massage your shoulders, leaning down as he pressed a small peck to your temple, your purr a sweet melody to his ears.

You swallowed behind your purr, trying to hide the small panic in your eyes. Your mind instantly flashed to your reflection this morning, how you pinched your hips with a frown. You already had been slowing down on the snacks, and fast food made you shiver.

"I-I'm okay for now, Keiji. Thank you though." You smiled, nonetheless, holding Keiji's cheek in your hand. He quirked a brow, frowning slightly before nodding lowly. Another peck was pressed to your cheek before he left, ordering your favorite from the diner he took you to for your first date.

"Beloved, I'm back." Keiji called, once more tearing you away from your essay; you were always thankful for the distraction though. He set down the take out bag, taking out the top box and handing it to you before shrugging off his jacket.

"Keiji? I said I was okay-"

"I didn't believe you. Now come on, you need to take a break and I'm touch starved." The raven didn't even look behind at you before pulling out his own box, dragging your rolley-chair to the bed. He pulled his sweater over his head, handing that to you as well before giving you a sweet peck.

His eyes locked with yours. Your breath hitched. So many silent words swam in his eyes, asking you, demanding you, to tell you what was wrong.

"I just- I've gained a little weight lately and-"

"And? My love, you are just as gorgeous as the day I met you. Nothing is wrong with a little weight, even if I think you're foolish to think you've gained weight. Never think otherwise. Even if you do, let me know, my job as your alpha and boyfriend is to make sure you feel as good as possible no matter what."

He slipped the sweater over your head, rehanding you your meal that he took from you momentarily, running a hand through your hair.

"Your my beautiful omega. Nothing should keep you from your happiness."

Wakatoshi Ushijima

➵Unlike Akaashi, Wakatoshi is little more...Hesitant (In a way) when it comes to omegan care.

➵ He never really learned how to? Ya know?

➵ Both his parents were alphas, and he was never around omegas consistently enough to learn.

➵and it's not like you were a volleyball that he could use the same techniques to up-keep.

➵ He also couldn't ask his team.

➵ Well, he could, but only one other person on his team had an omega. (It was Satori and his advice, though helpful, could only go so far.)

➵ He was doing good though, especially with you holding his hand through the entire thing.

➵ The first time he noticed something was up was when you didn't show up to lunch-- texting him a picture of you in the library, tongue poking out as you held up a peace sign to assure him you were okay.

➵ When he brought it up to Satori, who had his own omega (A small, but fiery brunette named Yuka) leaning on his side as she played some sort of phone game on his phone (Mama's slusheria? He thinks?) .

➵He explained he didn't know what was going on with you while Satori listened with a hum before giving him a sad smile. "Sorry I can't help you further Ushi-waka, but as you can see-" He slid his unfinished lunch towards Yuka, who popped one of the Dango skewers into her mouth without looking up. "I'm not very familiar with the problem."

➵ He offered his help as much as he could nonetheless.

➵ He slowly began to pick up on smaller things, locking them in his steel trap.

➵ Like a good boy :)

➵ He put hours of research into omegas after this (not that he hadn't previously). Keeping strenuous notes beside him.

➵ They were colorful and highlighted :)

➵ And he followed the advice that 'Mommy Luna-boo' posted on the blog he found like a goddamn Mantra. ('Sometimes Omegas need a little more love! Their bodies, especially during high school years, will change a lot! They may feel a little down! As an alpha, make sure you remind them how beautiful they are!')

➵She was mother Theresa and he was her follower.

➵ Well after he followed you.

➵and after he made sure you were feeling better

___

"Omega?"

"Toshi."

Walking into your dorm room, Wakatoshi set down a small bag filled with goodies. He set it down on your bed as he sat down as well, watching you carefully.

When you gave him a small smile with a quirked brow, he took a deep breath, remembering everything Tendou had coached him through.

"Have you been eating enough lately?"

You sucked your tongue at the question, shuffling your shoulders. Truth be told you had been missing out on a few lunches after noting a few extra pounds you hadn't noticed earlier. You never meant to worry him, that was never your intention, but it seemed the world was working against you. You had no clue where to go from here. If you told him the truth that would do nothing but worry him, but lying was never good in any form of relationship.

Your hesitance to tell him was more than enough though, as his larger lands encased your own, holding them tightly.

"Why?" His tone wasn't accusatory nor was it angry in the slightest. Genuine curious if anything. If he could get to the bottom of the root of the problem, he could prevent it from happening in the future. Right?

"I- I just...Noticed a few extra pounds and-"

"That's it?"

You looked up to him with a tilted head, like a lost puppy. "What do you mean that's it?"

Pulling you closer, Wakatoshi effortlessly pulled you onto his lap, using one hand to dig through the bag beside him while the other wrapped around your hips. He pulled out a few of your favorite snacks laying them out in front of you.

"That's, in my opinion, a silly thing to worry about. If you feel that's a big problem, I can offer my services to you in any way you wish-- whether it be support or as help, it is my job to be there for you." He nuzzled your scent gland, voice rumbling against your shoulders.

You purred in response, leaning back onto your alpha.

Rintaro Suna

➵ Suna is a lot like Akaashi in the sense that he has incredible observational skills as an alpha.

➵ His eyes are like sniper scopes.

➵ The minute something is wrong, he's on it.

➵ Like he looks aloof but he's not.

➵ He had notes.

➵ So hiding something from him is not easy at all.

➵ But you two most likely ended up together because you gave him a run for his money.

➵ You made him work at being an alpha.

➵ And he loved you for that.

➵ It did come back to bite him in the ass though.

➵ The only reason he heard about this was because the betas at Inarizaki were loud mouths.

➵ Honestly he learned so much tea from them.

➵ Like this third year was sleeping with a first year because she planned on baby trapping him and-

➵ It was wild.

➵Though most times it was nothing more than a source of entertainment for you and him to laugh about.

➵This time the gossip was actually useful.

➵ He wasn't thrilled they were talking about you, but provided some very useful information.

➵ And he was set into action.

➵ typing a few things onto his phone he set out to find you.

___

"Rin, I said I'm not hungry-"

"I know and I'm making the executive decision to ignore you."

He squinted his eyes at the carefully written instructions in front of him, sending a silent thanks to Atsumu's mate Haruka. (;)) She had written a step by step instruction sheet to making Onigiri while also dropping off all the ingredients (Pre-prepped). The only reason she didn't make it was because Suna's alpha, no matter how much he trusted her, wouldn't have let it near you.

"Rintato-"

"Look, Y/N. I love you, you know that. You know a lot of things, you're my smart little omega. So you must also know this isn't good, right?" Sliding a plate of, albeit mediocre, onigiri towards you, Rintaro focused his gaze on you.

"You know this, eh?"

You swallowed before grabbing one of the triangles, nibbling on the top in an attempt to appease your alpha. His sharp gaze still focused on you, making you shiver as he rounded around the counter. He turned you around so you were facing him, his hands holding your hips.

"You know this."

You wilted under his expectant gaze, knowing what he wanted from you. "I know this."

He smirked, leaning to take bite from your snack, licking his lips as he did. "Good omega."

"Rintaro that's mine!"

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