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#sometimes he really is just a dumb teenager and i love it
egophiliac · 7 months
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What was your favorite of the flashbacks in Silver’s walk?
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the acorn bracelet is VERY good, but I really really love Malleus humming (hummalleus? hummus?) to Silver. especially now that the song has Context. >:) we are in a soup of angst and I'm here with a spoon in each hand and a silly straw that leads directly to my brain.
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loadsofcats · 11 months
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Have a feeling that, if more of you read Riders of the purple sage by Zane Grey, you’d be going mad over Lassiter
#the puns with his surname would be insufferable it sometimes sneaks up on me#i love him very dearly#both him and jane#Jane for being exactly who she is; stubborn kind welcoming and seemingly dumb but actually quite clever#she has a ranch all to herself#and for lassiter…… his name is Jim. I was not expecting that#secondly he’s from texas and now i had to figure out how texans speak.#this one also sneaks up on me because i did not earlier have a) a realisation that texan accent Does Exist so i remembered that’s a thing#too and b) i did not ususally connect texan accent with cool people (sorry but i only ever heard it once in a blue moon from tv)#anyway I love him very much because in the first chapters he comes all like “Yes. The Black cowboy it is me. I am very dangerous.#Jane I will protect you and your friend.” and then he does and#Jane later invites him for dinner and the man just… dissolves into a puddle with heart eyes on it like “oh i… really miss#it is a-a-alright; you don’t have to invite me for dinner [insert that emotional crying cat] Lassiter can survive just fine”#He’s twirling his hat all that time in his hands like a nervous teenager#I mean he comes there all strong and brooding and whenever Jane speaks he just. Melts. Babygirl really#he goes to retrieve Jane’s cattle he loses his horse in the process!!!#and he still stays! Even when Jane tries so hard to deter him from killing who he came to kill hes like “oh well. Guess I’ll stay here unti#you… change your mind” and Jane’s like “I will not change my mind”. And he goes#“Oh well ill stay anyway you need help managing a farm on your own” and he just stays to “help”#i could write paragraphs about Jane as well but this is a Lassiter appreciation post <3#book#books#it talks#tag edition#riders of the purple sage#zane grey
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boxboxlewis · 2 months
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Daniel finds out about Max’s divorce from a Google alert.
“FORMER F1 CHAMPION NEWLY SINGLE, SEEN HITTING THE BARS IN MONACO.” Journalistic excellence from the Daily Mail, as always. But when actual newspapers start reporting on it, Daniel decides to reach out. He texts Max a cat meme. Subtext: sorry about your failed relationship, also I know you like cats. Max texts back Are you trying to cheer me up, and then 😂. It’s unclear if he’s 😂 at the cat or the notion of Daniel attempting to comfort. While Daniel is trying to figure this out a third text comes in. Stop reading stupid shit by dumb assholes who don’t know anything.
Nah it’s all good, I can’t read, Daniel replies. He hesitates, and then adds I am like. Sorry about stuff with kelly or whatever though.
Max thumbs-up reacts the message, and doesn’t reply.
Daniel figures Max’ll probably just start dating another exquisitely beautiful, exquisitely groomed woman with a disconcerting resemblance to his own mother. They’re ten a penny in Monaco, where Max still for some reason lives. 
He’s not prepared for the next tranche of articles his Google Alert brings him. “MAX VERSTAPPEN SEEN LEAVING GAY BAR.” “VERSTAPPEN REFUSES TO ADDRESS RUMOURS.” “VETTEL COMES TO VERSTAPPEN’S DEFENCE: ‘HE HAS A RIGHT TO A PRIVATE LIFE.’” Like… people go to gay bars sometimes, even if they’re straight. But do straight people let Seb Vettel defend their honour in the media?
Daniel opens his text thread with Max and types Hey, are you. You know. 
He deletes it, obviously. He’s got a lot going on in his own life. Brand ambassadorships out the ass, his film production company, his vineyard. He sends Max another dumb meme and calls it good. Max is just doing Max stuff. It’s some belated F1 champion rumspringa, probably, because when he was an actual teenager he was psychotically focussed on racing. He’ll settle down soon enough.
Daniel really isn’t expecting him to announce live on Dutch television that he has a boyfriend. The clip is in Dutch, obviously, but someone has added English captions, and Daniel watches over and over again. RIP his YouTube algorithm. It’s some daytime talk show, the kind of thing Max hates, the kind of thing he’d never do unless someone was twisting his arm about it. The host asks all sickly sweet if there’s a special someone in Max’s life. Max says, “Well yes of course there is my boyfriend.” The “of course” in Dutch sounds like naturally. Naturally, naturally. “And my family I am very close to, as well.” The camera dwells with voyeuristic glee on the talkshow host’s face as she tries and fails to pick her expression up from the floor. “Your boyfriend?” she manages. Max nods, impatient. Daniel rewinds the clip. Your boyfriend? Your boyfriend? Your boyfriend?
Daniel decides to visit Monaco. Not because of Max. It’s summer and the swing of the season is funnelling him that way, that’s all, towards the parties and the glittering people dancing on yachts, getting high, bright and beautiful, living that good life. He doesn’t have an apartment there anymore, but Max does, because Max never left: still has his custom penthouse with its views of the harbour. Unless—it’s a weird thought—unless Kelly kept it in the divorce. But when he texts Max to invite himself to stay, Max doesn’t mention anything about a new address. 
Max also doesn’t sound, like, super enthused, but that’s just how he is. It’s his natural Dutchness, most likely. Fine you can come then. You are lucky I don’t have plans is probably just the Dutch way of saying “Yeah sounds great, looking forward to reconnecting.” You are very annoying is probably how people from the Netherlands express affection. Daniel texts back Love you too my brother 🤘🤘
He gets his hair touched up before he goes, a little bit of tattooing at the roots in the front. He does a spray tan, and gets his face dermaplaned (not in that order). You can’t go to Monaco and not look good, that's all.
It always feels kind of weird, flying into Nice in a non-F1 context, first class instead of private, but Daniel fits, still: gets asked for his autograph at the airport, and then on the concourse, and when he stops to put petrol in his rental car (a sweet little Porsche, nice). He tosses his keys to the valet at Max’s building and the valet goggles. That’s right, baby: twelve-time Grand Prix winner Daniel Ricciardo is in town. Daniel winks and the valet turns gratifyingly mauve.
Max, when Daniel pushes into his apartment, is less enthusiastic. “Daniel. I really do not know why you’ve come.”
Daniel ignores him in favour of crouching down, trying to pet Jimmy or Sassy. “Hey, little guy,” he croons. “Or girl. What’s up? Do you remember Uncle Danny? Am I in town to show your daddy a good time? Yeah I am! That’s right. That’s right.” Jimmy or Sassy scowls at him and swipes with one needle-tipped paw. All right, drama queen. Daniel stands back up and grins at Max. “I mean, mostly I wanted to meet your boyfriend,” he says, for some reason. What the fuck, Ricciardo. He keeps grinning, styles it out. “Gotta give him the old shovel speech, right?”
Max is doing the blank-eyed stare Daniel remembers so well from their racing days. It’s wildly disconcerting coming from this Max, who looks. Different, that’s all. He’s thick, still fit and well-muscled but heavy with it now, t-shirt stretched over the layer of hard fat covering his abdomen, face softer. He’s a bear of a man, he could—he could do lots of things, obviously. It’s fine. It’s just that part of Daniel still expects him to be the gawky teenager Daniel loomed over.
Max says, “What do you want to say to my boyfriend about shovels,” and for a bewildering moment Daniel has no idea what he’s talking about. 
“Oh, no, it’s like—it’s a saying, or whatever, when someone starts dating someone. I mean, usually dads say it, I guess, but like—the idea is if he mistreats you I’ll…” Daniel trails off as he realises he’s not actually sure what “shovel speech” means. “Uh, hit him with a shovel? Or I guess potentially, like, use it to bury his corpse. Whiiiich is a joke! Not actually going to bury anyone.” No, weird comment, Daniel’s not actually going to bury anyone t-shirt is raising a lot of questions et cetera. Hastily, he adds “As long as he behaves!” and then stands there mentally kicking himself while Jimmy/Sassy yowls soulfully near his ankles. He's never like this, he never loses control of a conversation like this. It's agonising.
Max stares at him for a long moment, and then cracks up. “Daniel, you are still so weird,” he says. It sounds kind of affectionate. 
“You know it, baby,” Daniel says. “So, where’s the boyf?
Max’s cheeks go a little red, it looks like. Maybe Daniel’s imagining it. “Ricardo is at the gym,” he says.
Daniel has to have misheard that. “Sorry, what’s this dude’s name?”
“Ricardo,” Max says grumpily. “My boyfriend.”
“Right, yeah, of course.” Once again Daniel decides, against his better judgement, to style it out. “Uh, is he Australian, by any chance? And devastatingly charismatic?”
Max sighs, as if Daniel is being really annoying. “He is from Melbourne. And yeah, he is okay I think. Maybe you won’t like him though, because you like always to be the funniest one. Come on, I will show you to your guest room.”
Daniel manages a casual-sounding, “Haha, you got me.” They’re walking through the apartment, now, Max leading the way. For a moment Daniel just watches the sunburned back of his neck.
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livwritesstuff · 18 days
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One of Steve’s favorite parts of raising his teenage girls is listening to their drama.
He’s said it since he was in high school himself – girl drama is way more interesting than boy drama. Is he playing into gender roles a bit there? Sure, but sometimes there’s a bit of truth to it.
The thing is, drama is a lot different in 2018 than it was when Steve was in high school. The social media piece of it is totally wild to him – the way that there is an underlying meaning to it all is kind of incredible though. Not really in a good way, obviously, because it’s all completely petty and small and dumb, but that’s exactly why Steve loves hearing about it through his kids.
Like, Moe will ask Robbie,
“Dude, what was up with Molly getting cropped out of that photo Ava posted?”
And then Robbie will launch into a whole goddamn narrative – with secondary characters and side stories and plot twists and everything – and Steve totally lives for it every time.
“Shit, I just accidentally liked Lauren’s VSCO,” Moe said.
“Damn,” Robbie commented without looking up from her phone.
“What’s wrong with Lauren?” Steve asked, because last he checked Moe and Lauren were friends.
“She, like, dropped out of school,” Robbie replied.
“Not dropped out,” Moe clarified, “She withdrew from school because she didn’t like anyone and now she’s doing it all online or something.”
And, see, that’s another thing that’s different between now and when Steve was in high school – he’s an adult, with an adult brain and a handful of psych degrees, so the line between what’s drama and what’s an actually concerning event is quite a bit more defined for him than it is for his daughters’.
“What do you mean she didn’t like anyone?” Steve asked.
“I dunno,” Moe shrugged, “She just, like, stopped hanging out, you know. Like, we’d say hi and she wouldn’t say hi back and she left the group chat and she was avoiding sitting with us at lunch and stuff like that.”
And that had Steve’s counselor-brain completely overpowering his drama-brain, and now he’s wondering if he knows Lauren’s mom well enough to weasel his way into the situation.
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bakubunny · 6 months
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a/n: this is directly inspired by this lovely dilf!denki fic that left me in shambles. tysm for that, @aquadenks.
f!reader
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dilf!denki who you don’t really notice at first. he has a very eye catching look as chargebolt, but as regular old denki, he’s another pretty boy with a casual look and bright eyes.
dilf!denki who’s a single dad and coparents his twin girls well with his ex. who sometimes plays with them at the park you walk your dog at every day, and you catch his winning smile. who catches you staring accidentally and offers a grin with a glimmer in his eyes like he’s noticed something about you.
dilf!denki who goes out of his way to introduce himself the next time he sees you. whose little girls “happen to notice” your big, gentle puppy walking by, easily as tall as either of them. (he definitely didn’t tell them there was a puppy in the park so that they’d look for you excitedly.) he’s smooth and not too forward as the twins ask curious questions and gently pet and pat your dog who is living for the attention his little girls give.
dilf!denki who says, “maybe i’ll see you around, sweetness,” with a wink and charming, boyish grin looking down at you and gosh, do you hope he’s right as he and his girls walk away. you’ve never been one to swoon or blush over a guy winking at you, but with him, he’s already got you hooked.
dilf!denki who managed to slip you his number the next time you’re in the park. who asked you out on a date, and you said yes. you’re pretty sure you’re falling hard for the blond hero with an infectious smile and two sweet as can be five year old girls who seem to think you’re the prettiest lady with a nice dog that they’ve ever met. (he also didn’t conspire with them to compliment you, not one bit.)
dilf!denki who sweeps you off your feet the minute you answer the door with your favorite flowers. who’s just as charming and smooth as he is goofy and kindhearted the rest of the evening. who kisses you goodnight on the lips and has you walking into your apartment dumbfounded and giddy like a teenage girl.
dilf!denki who shows you he’s a serious guy despite his playful attitude. he wants you, and he intends to keep you if you’ll have him.
dilf!denki whose kisses are sweet and warm, gentle in a way that makes you crazy as he cradles your head in his hands. whose hands wander and caress you with care.
dilf!denki who fucks you just right - just hard enough that you’re loosing your fucking mind from how good it feels, just the right angle that has goosebumps running down to your fingertips and toes. it’s not that head spinning, breath catching, fucked dumb sex like you had in your twenties with other guys. no, it’s losing the ability to breathe altogether when he’s thrusting his hips into yours, making you feel so full, split wide open by his size in the most perfect way. it’s feeling every single thrust tingle in the soles of your feet. it’s being so overwhelmed with pleasure that you’re not sure you could cum if you tried, but fuck, you need to. it’s not being able to form a single thought, let alone ask him to rub your clit because your head is too far gone to move, your body is weak like jelly in his arms. but he’s done this song and dance enough by now to tell you’re getting closer and he reaches down anyways because you’re giving him exactly what he wants. “that’s it, pretty girl, just let go…. good girl, you’re so good, all for me, aren’t you? that’s right, baby, you are….”
dilf!denki whose words and lips scattered across your skin are enough to pull you over the edge. who makes you cum so hard you burst into tears, clinging tightly to him as he fills you with hot, wet warmth.
dilf!denki who continues to surprise you every day after that with who he is. he’s the person you’re lucky enough to call yours.
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if you’d like to be added to my tag list, let me know. ♡
gremlins: @callm3senpaii @arlerts-angel @dcsiremc @darkstarlight82 @bookcluberror @zazter-den @breadandbutter33 @i-literally-cant-with-this @she-who-writes-for-multi-fandoms @rinalouu @stvrfir3 @r4td0lll @emmab3mma @mhadabiandhawks4eva @aria-chikage @yazminetrahan @doumadono @dreamcastgirl99 @maddietries @jazzafayesworld @karebear5118 @unofficialmuilover @cherriluvs35 @erensslut @citysweet @ruu-https @xoxo-kiri @hana-yuri @keiva1000 @flamgosstuff @amberexe2 @mistressreaper
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the-boy-meets-evil · 1 year
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fool for you | kmg (18+)
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where you and mingyu have a pact to always spend valentine's day together when you're single pairing: kim mingyu x f.reader genre: friends to lovers; fluff, smut rating: explicit; minors DNI warning: mentions of drinking (they're not drunk), some swearing, mingyu is described as a puppy, kissing, light marking, mentions of some biting, fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex (be safe), one use of a pet name (baby), i think that's it but if you see something else, lemme know! word count: ~4.8k a/n: this is for a valentine's day collab by the lovely @playmetheclassics @here4btsfics and @missgeniality. thank you for planning this. and to one of my favorite people, @ugh-yoongi this is for you, happy love day! banner credit: @classicscreations, thank you bby
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It’s always been like this with you and your best friend since you were teenagers. Ever since that awful (read: not that bad, you were just a dramatic teenager) break-up you went through in your second year of high school just before Valentine’s Day. All because your boyfriend didn’t want to have to buy you anything. Which was dumb, you think, because you were teenagers and you weren’t exactly expecting some grand gesture. Not when you’d been dating for less than a year. 
But you were upset in that angsty teenager kind of way and Mingyu swooped in to try and fix it, in true best friend fashion. He showed up at your house that night with all your favorite snacks and some movie that you couldn’t remember. What you did remember, though, was your promise to always be each other’s Valentine’s date if you were both single. It wasn’t as much for him as you and you knew that. You couldn’t help it, you just loved love and the idea of spending the day with someone special. Which he was to you. 
Now it’s been 10 years since you made the promise to each other. Those 10 years have seen you both through finishing high school, going to college, countless dates, and so much change. The only thing that hasn’t changed is always making time for each other, no matter what else was going on. Mingyu is your best friend and you know you’re his. You’re sure nothing can change that.
And since you’re both actually adults now (kind of), you can go out to dinner for Valentine’s Day at a nice place with good food. Some of your other friends think it’s weird, that you go out on what’s essentially a date on the “most romantic” day of the year. That’s when you always chime in to remind everyone that Valentine’s Day is about love, not just romantic relationships. You and Mingyu do love each other, always have. Why not celebrate that?
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“Cheers to another year spent with my favorite person,” you say and raise the glass of champagne, a complimentary one for all reservations that night. 
“Yeah I guess you’re okay,” Mingyu agrees when he clinks his glass against yours. 
“Wow, I see how it is,” you retort and he smiles. 
“I’m always happy when we get to do this, you know that,” Mingyu says.
“Maybe,” you shrug, “doesn’t hurt to hear it again.”
“Ah yes, the attention monster reappears,” Mingyu says and you roll your eyes without any real annoyance behind it.
“Hey, I was really good when you were dating Nayeon,” you protest. “I just like getting to hang out with my best friend.”
“You’re right,” he concedes. 
You’re expecting him to say more because you haven’t really talked about the breakup even though it’s been about a month. “That’s it?”
“What?” he asks, reaching for a roll in the center of the table. 
“I just, I don’t know, we haven’t really talked about what happened with her,” you say. 
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Mingyu says. It’s more of a shrug than anything as he grabs a roll. “You knew we were having problems.”
This kind of sparks your interest, so you pull the butter away before he can reach it. At first, a look of betrayal flashes across his face. Playful, of course. And then he’s pouting. God, he’s such a puppy sometimes. Just a giant goofball who has no idea how big he is.
“I know you were having problems,” you finally say to correct him. “Last time I saw you and her together, she seemed happy.”
Mingyu just looks at you for a second. “She didn’t like my friends and it just got old. I was sick of having to justify hanging out with them.”
“Well your friends are idiots,” you say and hand over the butter. 
“And to think they always talk about how much they love you,” he says and you laugh. 
“I love them too, but they’re still idiots. Both can be true,” you say. 
“Yeah, well, Nayeon didn’t see it that way, so,” Mingyu trails off with a shrug. 
You reach a hand across the table and his hand meets yours instinctively. “I know I joke around with you, but I am sorry. I just want you to be happy.”
“I am,” he insists and you frown. “Come on, I’ve still got you and some amazing friends. I’m good.”
“Okay,” you agree and reluctantly pull your hand back.
“Besides, I think it’s you we need to talk about,” he says and your brow furrows. 
“What about me?” you ask, a little nervous to hear the answer because it is Mingyu, after all.
“Did you forget that it was Seokmin who introduced you to Jeonghan?” Mingyu asks and he’s got that little smirk that you really fucking hate sometimes. Shithead.
“I didn’t forget,” you say and pretend to find the drink menu interesting even though you’ve already ordered.
“Nope, sorry,” Mingyu says and plucks the menu from your hand. “I told you about Nayeon.”
“You two dated for like 9 months? It wasn’t the same?” you point out incredulously.
“And you ghosted him,” Mingyu barks out with a laugh. “The poor guy, he was heartbroken.”
“Oh, he was not,” you scoff. “There wasn’t any spark.”
“That damn spark,” Mingyu says with a shake of his head. 
And because sometimes life is actually fair, the appetizer shows up and distracts Mingyu from any further line of questioning. He’s been wanting to try this restaurant since it opened. You’re not really sure why he never went with Nayeon. It’s a win for you though. And Mingyu loves food. He’s an incredible cook, but who would ever mind someone else cooking for them? 
It’s also kind of cute. Mingyu is this giant ball of energy, exactly like the puppy you compared him to earlier. More like a golden retriever actually, because he can be smart and also very dumb. He’s always moving until he passes out. He’s fiercely loyal. But when he’s happy and eating something like this, he just kind of slows down, gets focused. There’s something endearing about it.
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Dessert is always the same for the two of you too. You pretend that you only want a bite or two of whatever Mingyu orders and end up eating most of it while he pouts until you order something else. Part of you thinks that you should just order two to start, the other part kind of likes your little tradition. There are a lot of things that you like doing with Mingyu. This is your favorite though, this stupid little Valentine’s Day tradition. Maybe it’s the comfort or the safety. Maybe it’s knowing that even if you’re dating someone shitty, Mingyu will always be there.
“Can I ask you something?” he asks, grabbing a bite of cake with his fork.
“Not sure when we started asking if we could ask questions, but go on,” you say. 
“What’s the real reason you didn’t give Jeonghan a chance?” Mingyu asks and that makes you look up suddenly.
“I already told you,” you answer.
“Not sure when we started avoiding answering things, but go on,” he says, throwing your line back at you.
“I mean, it’s true, I didn’t feel a spark and I don’t know,” you say as you search for the words. “I guess I just don’t wanna be wasting my time dating someone when it’s not going to go anywhere.”
“You never know though,” he says and you can’t really pinpoint the emotion.
“I don’t know,” you say and think for a second. “Have you ever just gone on a date and been sitting across from someone that’s nice and smart and funny and attractive, literally everything you should want but…it’s just, not there?”
Mingyu chuckles even though it’s not really funny. “Yeah, I guess I have.”
“And, okay, like part of me was also thinking that this holiday was coming up. So I either had to just shut it down or agree to do something with him,” you say and look down, embarrassed about what you’re going to admit. “I just kind of thought I’d rather spend tonight with you, someone I know I like being around, rather than in some sort of new, probably undefined, relationship with him. Like what if he picked a shitty restaurant or made shitty plans? What if we run out of things to talk about?”
“Wait, you turned him down so you could spend Valentine’s Day with me?” Mingyu asks, eyes wide.
“Come on, not like that,” you say and ignore the fluttering in your stomach. “Just, I don’t know, we always have fun.”
“You like doing this with me,” Mingyu says and you roll your eyes.
“Course I do, Gyu,” you answer easily.
“What if it was like that, though?” he asks and you cock your head to the side. “Like what if we were on a date and it wasn’t just another Valentine’s Day with friends?”
“Mingyu, we’re not…” you start and falter at the look on his face. “Are you serious?” 
“You do realize that I’ve actually never been in a relationship on Valentine’s Day, right?” he asks and that stupid smirk is back. 
“You must’ve been, we haven’t done this every year,” you say and you’re trying to wrack your brain to see if it’s true. 
“No, you’re right, we haven’t. We’ve missed 3 since we made the deal when we were fifteen, all when you were in a relationship,” Mingyu says and you’re at a loss for words. 
“Does that mean…?” you try to ask but your mouth just can’t see to catch up with your brain and your heart. 
“Do you wanna get out of here and go back to my apartment? It might be easier to talk there,” he says and you just nod. 
It’s a lot of information to process and for once, Mingyu is quiet by your side. His hand is firm around yours, which doesn’t feel like a big deal because you’ve held hands for years. Except that it’s entirely different now. And when he needs it back so he can actually drive with both his hands, a part of you misses the comfort of it. Misses the security. 
You’re quiet in the elevator and on the walk to his front door, quiet as you walk through the doorway. Even the apartment is quiet, which is surprising given how loud one of Mingyu’s roommates tends to be. But the place is empty, apparently, as Mingyu tells you when he breaks the silence to ask if he can take your coat to hang it up. It’s a strange feeling for a lot of reasons. Right now it’s strange to have Mingyu taking care of you when it’s usually the other way around.
It’s quiet again as you walk the familiar path to the living room to sit down while Mingyu makes you a cup of tea. When he hands it to you, you know that it’ll be perfect because Mingyu’s been your best friend for over a decade and he knows everything about you. And that’s when you realize. Maybe he knew this too. Maybe he’s a step ahead of you in realizing there are real feelings here. Maybe he’s the one you can depend on. 
“How long?” you ask, figuring you need to speak eventually.
“Have I liked you?” he asks, needing clarification. You only nod. When he doesn’t answer immediately, you look over at him. Study his face in profile before he answers. “It’s kind of a long answer, I guess. I had a crush on you that first Valentine’s Day, but I figured you also just needed a friend. And I realized how much I did love our friendship. Plus we were kids.”
He takes a breath to collect his thoughts. “I haven’t been in love with you for 10 years, just to be clear,” he says and chuckles. “Not that I haven’t thought about it either. Mostly it’s just been that you were my best friend and we went on these little friend dates and I didn’t think too deeply about it.”
“Did something change?” you ask, still not ready to address your own feelings. 
“I’m not sure how to explain it. Nayeon and I were just kind of throwing out things for Valentine’s Day even though it was still over a month away. And she made a comment about how she hoped you’d have someone so you wouldn’t be missing me,” Mingyu says and frowns. 
“She isn’t exactly the first to not like it,” you say quietly. 
“It wasn’t even that, it was all me,” Mingyu says honestly. “I started to think about how I wouldn’t get to spend it with you and that was…a wake-up call. Nayeon and I broke it off not much after that. And honestly, what I said about my friends was true. She hated Seokmin.”
“How does anyone hate him? He’s a sunshine baby,” you say and Mingyu laughs. “Minghao I get, maybe, because he can be mean if he doesn’t like you. But not Seokmin.”
“Right?” he agrees. “So I was thinking about you and us and trying to sort things out when Seokmin said he was going to introduce you to Jeonghan and my heart broke. I couldn’t imagine having just broken it off with Nayeon only to still not get to see you for our tradition. That’s when I knew for sure. And we aren’t kids anymore.”
“So, like, what do we do now?” you ask, and Mingyu studies you for a moment.
“What do you want to do?” he asks. “I mean, are you…oh my god, why is this so hard? I just told you how I felt but I don’t know…”
He’s rambling and it’s incredibly endearing because he doesn’t usually get flustered like this. It also makes you realize that he’s laid everything out while you’ve said almost nothing. You rest a hand on his leg to stop him from stuttering through things. “Hey, I realize I didn’t say this. But I do have feelings for you too.”
“You do?” Mingyu asks, his whole face lighting up.
“Yeah, dummy, that’s what I really meant when I was talking about sitting across from Jeonghan not feeling the spark. He’s a great guy but he’s not you,” you say easily. 
“What do we do now?” Mingyu asks, making you laugh. 
“I mean like I really wanna kiss you, so,” you say, watching as his eyes go wide, just for a moment. 
And then he’s sliding over on the couch, gently tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, so careful like he can’t tell if it’s all really happening. So cautious. It’s at odds with your best friend who’s always tripping over his own feet and never seems to know just how big he is. Your whole body is hyper-aware of his and even though he admitted his feelings first, you’re still a little worried that this isn’t real either. When his lips finally meet yours, it occurs to you just how many times you’ve imagined this. How many times you’ve looked at his lips and wondered if they were soft or what they would feel like against yours. How many times you’ve wondered about his hands running over your body.
His lips feel better than you expected, the perfect mix of soft and firm against your own. One of his large hands cups the side of your face, fingers curling around behind your ear. You’re not even sure which one of you deepens the kiss, you’re only aware that your tongues are moving together and that it’s making you feel a little light-headed. The angle is awkward but you’re not sure you really care. You’re kissing your best friend and it’s everything you’ve ever needed and nothing like you thought. 
He pulls away and you’re a little embarrassed by the way your lips chase after his, a little unused to being the one that pouts in this relationship. Yet that’s exactly what you do when you see him just looking at you.
“Is this actually happening?” he asks. You let out of huff of air.
“Well not now, since you stopped kissing me,” you say. You expect him to laugh or roll his eyes. Instead, he only looks fond. So incredibly fond. 
“Never would’ve pegged you as the pouty, whiny type,” Mingyu says. Now you’re the one that rolls your eyes.
“I’m leaving,” you announce and get up. 
You’re actually a little surprised when he lets you stand up and take a few steps toward the door. There’s a chance for your stomach to drop, just a little bit. And then he’s grabbing your arm to spin you around to him. 
Fuck, he’s tall. Which you’ve always known, but it’s different when he’s crowding your space and caging you between his arms. Your back is against the wall when you finally tilt your head up to look at him. Whatever playful glint that had been in his eyes earlier is gone. There’s no question that he wants you as much as you want him, maybe more. 
You pull his face down to yours to kiss him again, harder this time, let your hands tangle in his hair that he’s finally grown out after literal years of asking him. His hands grip your hips, just on the right side of too hard. 
And, okay, you don’t want to complain, but Mingyu genuinely is a giant and it’s kind of hard on your neck to crane it so you can continue kissing him. Just as you start to rise up on your tiptoes, Mingyu’s hands move from your hips down to the backs of your thighs. You gasp into his mouth when he picks you up, balancing you against the wall. It’s nothing but heat between the two of you when you wrap your legs around his waist, trying to help him keep you held up.
“Fuck this,” he says quietly as he pulls you away from the wall. 
You squeak at losing your backrest and wrap your arms around his neck tighter like you’re afraid to fall. He just chuckles.
“You know I’d never drop you,” he assures you, voice low. 
Even though he said it, you’re expecting him to deposit you on the bed. He doesn’t. He’s so gentle when he places you on the edge of his bed and you’re wondering where all the restraint is coming from. You sure as hell don’t have this kind of control.
Almost on their own, your hands reach for his shirt and he watches as you unbutton it carefully, sliding it down his arms. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve seen him shirtless (and you’ve seen him shirtless a lot), he’s still beautiful. So beautiful that you don’t realize he’s reaching for the hem of your dress, that’s already almost at your hips from him picking you up, removing it quickly before unclasping your bra just as quickly. It leaves you almost completely exposed, only your underwear left. The urge to be shy is brief when you see the way he’s looking at you. You spare a moment to consider if anyone’s ever looked at you like that (they haven’t, you’re sure). 
This time the kiss you get is actually quick before his mouth moves down over your body. He sucks one of your nipples between his teeth and your back arches in response. And there’s something a little weird about it all. There’s nobody in the world you know better than Mingyu, with his endless energy and restlessness. But you didn’t know this side of him. The side where he takes his time, slows down so every moment feels more important, focuses on you and you alone. 
You don’t stop him as he continues to move down your body and nips along the way. It doesn’t matter that he’s marking you up, doesn’t make you pause like it has before with anyone else. Not that anyone is going to be seeing these marks anyway, since he’s currently focusing on your inner thigh. And fuck, it feels good, but you’re also a little impatient, a little needy when your hand knots in his long hair again. Without even seeing his face, you know he’s smiling. Smirking, probably. He doesn’t have to tell you that he loves to see you whiny for him. 
(He does anyway, though, because he’s still a menace to society and to you specifically. He doesn’t have to tease you either, but he does that too, making you beg before he removes your underwear.)
“Mingyu please,” you beg, already reduced to this. 
His legs on yours from between your legs and you let out a heavy breath. His eyes are still on you when he asks, “what is it you’re asking for?”
“Something, anything,” you say because you’re no longer too proud to beg. You can yell at him for it later. Right now you just need. 
A second later, he gives you what you asked for. He runs his tongue up your folds lazily, too slow. It’s deliberate, you know. And you know that you should appreciate that he’s not in a rush. It’s just that you’re so on edge and this isn’t helping. Maybe he can tell by the way your hand tightens in his hair or the way you moan or even the way you squirm with his tongue inside you. Whatever it is, something makes him speed up and praises fall easily from your lips. The praises only seem to push him on, which isn’t surprising. Mingyu has always had a thing about praise. 
Mingyu slides a finger inside your cunt without much warning and it’s all too much. You never really paid that much attention to his hands (which was good for your sanity, probably). But his long finger moves quickly inside your cunt and you clench around him without meaning too. He hums against your clit, makes it feel like a praise. When he slides a second finger in, you’re not sure how much longer you’ll last. The rhythm of his fingers sliding inside you along with his mouth on your clit is driving you wild. 
He curls his fingers inside of you and thrusts faster, not teasing now, certainly not dragging it out. It’s silent permission for you to let go. The orgasm rips through you and you fall back onto the bed, dully aware of him guiding you through it. You’re breathing heavily when you feel his fingers slide out and prop yourself up in time to see him put his fingers in his own mouth. And fuck, okay that’s also really hot. 
You lean forward to undo his pants. Those fall to the floor with his boxer briefs and your eyes go a little wide. He’s bigger than you’re expecting, not that you’ve spent much time thinking about him. Now he’s the one that looks a little shy, even though it was you that was just coming on his tongue. 
He goes to grip his cock and you snap out of it, gently moving his hand away. Instead, you lean forward to spit on the tip, spreading it along his length, thinking you might tease him. Just a little bit. Your strokes are slow, at least at first, and he just watches, seems to be caught up in the moment. Until he gets impatient and jerks a little into your hand, even though you can tell he’s trying not to. 
You just look up at him, watch his eyes on you as you take his cock into your mouth. Mingyu gathers your hair in his hands, but lets you go at your own pace. Slowly, you find your rhythm, taking as much into your mouth as you can. Mingyu seems to like to give praise as much as he likes to receive it, though, because it falls out of his mouth between his groans.
“Baby, hang on,” Mingyu says and gently pulls himself back. Your eyes go wide for a second before registering that his look is just want. “Can I…I mean, I really want to fuck you. Fuck, I really want to feel you.”
That, almost more than anything else, goes straight to your core. You know you’re already getting wet again but why does he have to look like that when he says it? Why does he have to look like this is more than he’s ever experience? Why did him calling you baby make your brain short circuit? 
“God, yes Mingyu, yes, I want to feel you inside me,” you manage to say as you’re moving back into the center of the bed. 
Mingyu is reaching for his bedside table the next second and you watch him. There’s a part of you that knows it’s best to be safe, knows that you never know. But the other part, the much louder part, just wants to feel him. It’s the part that knows even though he could be a fuckboy, he’s not. Knows he doesn’t sleep around. So you tell him you’ve got an IUD, even though he already knows, and not to worry. He checks, because he cares about you more than he knows how to express, but there’s a part of him that’s excited too.
He’s hovering over you the next second, pressing kisses against every bit of your skin his lips come into contact with. He only stops for a second to line himself up at your entrance, slides the tip between your folds and comments on how wet you are again. As soon as he presses the tip into your cunt, his lips are on yours again, catching the moans. Or maybe distracting you from how big he is inside of you. 
You’re thankful for this side of him, the side that’s so careful with you, the side that’s much more in control of his body than you’ve seen anywhere else. Thankful because he’s moving slowly, letting you adjust. And because you know neither of you are going to last that long once he actually does start moving. 
“Please,” you nearly whisper, fingers digging into Mingyu’s arms. 
It’s all he needs, though. He starts moving, slowly snapping his hips as he thrusts into you. It’s all so much. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt this much while fucking someone. You love to love and love feelings, but sex has always been somehow separate for you. Not that you don’t feel during sex. It’s just that you’ve always been able to separate the feelings. You can’t imagine doing that now and maybe that’s because none of them were Mingyu.
You know he wants to make it last, you do too, but it’s all just really overwhelming. So you focus on this moment, on how he speeds up, how his breath sounds so close to you, the way his muscles contract with each movement, on the way he stretches you. You dig your nails into his arms to keep yourself grounded and he groans. He picks up his pace a little more, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting all the way in, making you scream out. 
It feels like it all happens too fast. You’re still sensitive from your first orgasm. And you know Mingyu is close too, can feel the way his thrusts falter. You clench around him, let him know you’re close, say whatever comes out. Most of it is probably incoherent, you think. But he understands anyway, is right there with you. Your second orgasm rips through you even harder than the first. Mingyu thrusts through it, releasing into you in the process. 
It’s a few minutes later, after you’ve both somewhat caught your breath and he’s pulled out of you, that you fully realize what’s happening. Mingyu has one hand behind his head and the other arm around you, eyes closed. You prop yourself up on your elbow to look at him, appreciate all his features up close for what feels like the first time in all your years of friendship. He opens his eyes and meets yours. It’s the best smile you can ever remember seeing. 
“So, I guess we’re doing this,” you say, watching his face closely.
“Yeah, we are,” he agrees, no room for argument. “I’m not letting go of you now.”
You lay back down and bury your face in his side. You’re not sure what else to say. “Hey, Mingyu?”
“Hmm?” he says. You feel it more than hear it.
“Happy Valentine’s Day.” 
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this ended up being a little longer than i meant, but let me know your thoughts <3
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vigilvntes · 1 year
Text
Jason Todd x Reader | On again-off again relationship hcs
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A/N: lisTen. i'm incredibly sleep deprived so this is gonna be very messy and i have a whole ass book to read before my class at 9am and i probably won't sleep tonight so let me have this. let me have my low-key volatile relationship with jason todd where we love each other so deeply that we can't even stand to be around each other sometimes because we frustrate the fuck out of each other but we also can't live without each other. as the great lorde once said: let me live that fantasy.
W/C: 2500+ (help me i basically just outlined a whole story </3)
likes, rbs and comments are all very much appreciated <3
SOME NSFW UNDER THE CUT! ALSO BONUS BATFAMILY GETTING INVOLVED IN THE DRAMA AT THE END BECAUSE ,, FUNNY!!
you and jason have known each other for three years, and you've been together for around two years and two months of that time, if damian's calculations are correct. it's electric and heated and frantic and loving and frustrating and soft and infuriating, all at the same time. you just can't seem to stay away from each other. it's a 'cat and mouse' kind of situation, one where you just can't seem to stop chasing each other despite how ridiculously awful it always seems to turn out in the end. the longest you've managed to really hold it together is seven months, but you can't stay away for more than a month at a time.
you make out like teenagers. make love almost every night. laugh at his dumb jokes or funny comments. patch up any mild injuries he comes home with. tickle each other until you're on the floor breathless, surrendering and begging him to show you mercy. you spend lazy mornings together in bed. bicker and shit-talk each other over breakfast. cuddle on the couch late at night. it's perfect in theory, and he's admittedly an amazing boyfriend. he's caring and attentive and he loves to love you and be loved. but your tempers get the better of both of you.
fights break out because you're both kind of impulsive and hot-headed. neither of you can help your snark or cutting comebacks sometimes. you run your mouths about something – anything, and you run the risk of everything breaking down within the hour. you know his weak spots, know how to push his buttons when he's really pushing yours; and as you know his, he knows yours just as well. you'd never go as far as to bring up anything too personal or out of pocket, but you still know just how to get on each others nerves perfectly. how to manually detonate the ticking time bomb before it blows up on its own accord.
you frustrate the fuck out of each other, and he has a tendency to just walk out of your apartment mid-argument. he puts the suit on, tells you he'd rather be out on the streets getting his ass handed to him by a gang of drunks dressed up as teletubbies and then have bane rush in and pummel him into the concrete than have to deal with you when you're feeling particularly prickly, and you tell him to go fuck himself on his way out. the battle to get the last word in commences, and you've often found yourself yelling at him from your apartment window whilst he yells up at you from the street below because you both just refuse to give up the fight.
most times he comes back, but sometimes he doesn't. when it hits 8am and you haven't heard him rummaging through your kitchen cupboards or refrigerator; he still hasn't crawled back into your bed, kissed your forehead softly and buried his face into the crook of your neck, you shrug your shoulders, tell yourself everything's going to be okay. and then sob violently into your pillow because it's over. he's gone. but with jason, it's never really over. by some weird twist of fate (love, but jason prefers to call it coincidence, although it's anything BUT that) you always end up finding your way back to each other. you break up and even DATE other people but it's never serious and it just never feels the same because for some strange reason whenever you're apart you both miss the chaos of each other and even though you can literally be the worst when you're together, you would rather be together and be the worst than be without each other.
jason turns up at your door at 2AM when he hears you might be seeing someone new after a breakup the month before, demanding to be let in and when you relent (pretty quickly) and open the door he immediately has you against the wall, desperately grabbing at your hips and kissing you like there's no tomorrow whilst mumbling that no one could ever compare to him so don't even think about trying to replace him.
he has you naked and spread out on the bed in ten minutes tops, his tongue swirling against your clit in all the right places, big hands gripping on to your thighs. he grins like a fucking maniac when he makes you cum in record time, just under a minute if he was counting correctly. you cum on his face again, his fingers, his thigh and eventually his cock, until you're laid on his chest with his cum leaking out of you, breathless and all fucked out, mumbling 'i love you'. he says it back, reminds you again that no one could ever be him, and you know he's right. you knew this would happen and truthfully you were desperate to have him back which is maybe, possibly why you made a point to mention to roy that you were seeing someone else because you just knew he'd tell jason.
on the flip side, you send jason a risky picture of yourself in a brand new lingerie set when you find out he's going on a date with someone. you immediately apologise and claim it to be accidental and that it was meant for someone else. you watch your phone blow up with calls and texts from jason, listen to each and every angry-horny-frustrated-infatuated voicemail he leaves and grin the whole time because you know you have him wrapped around your finger, as much as he denies it.
you turn your phone off, unlock your door and wait patiently by the open window until you hear angry footsteps coming from below, stomping up the stairs of your apartment building. he busts through your door and demands that you tell him what the fuck you think you're playing at. you feign innocence and tell him that it was a genuine mistake but he knows you're lying and he has you on the couch, straddling his lap almost immediately. your pyjamas have been torn off, giving him an up-close, in-person view of the pretty new set from the picture earlier. the view is much nicer when it's not on a tiny phone screen; pictures do the real thing no justice. his phone vibrates while you're trailing kisses down his jaw to his neck, and you tell him he should take the call because it's probably his date wondering where the hell he is but he just turns his phone off and tosses it to the side. why the hell would he go on some shitty, awkward first date when he could have you?
the reunion is always sweet. there's always that honeymoon period with him no matter how many times you've broken up– upped and left each other following an argument. when it's good, it's really good. but you just can't seem to escape the inevitable. eventually one of you pushes it too far and the whole thing blows up in your faces. he walks out, you cry yourself to sleep and then you find some way to worm your way back into the others life, depending on who picked the fight that left everything broken once again. neither of you are exactly sure why you fight like cat and dog. you're perfect for each other on paper; you understand each other on a far deeper and more intellectual level than anyone ever could. you get on like a house on fire on your good days (which are admittedly most days), but somehow the bad days always seem to outweigh the good. he once made a joke that it's because you love him so much that you can't live with him, but you also can't live without him. he was probably right.
one night, after a particularly nasty breakup the week before, he stumbles into your apartment clutching at his side, barely able to breathe. he's been so uncaring lately, letting himself get caught up in his own head and his emotions regarding you and your relationship and it's lead to him taking a few more blows than he normally would. tonight he paid the price, took what he thinks might be the final hit, and he needed to see you one last time just in case things don't work out for him. you don't even have the chance to ask him what he's doing in your apartment before he's collapsing on to your living room floor, blood dripping through his fingers and on to your carpet. you drop to your knees next to him and whisper his name so softly, inspecting the wound and feeling guilty when he hisses in pain when your fingers brush against it. it's deep, and yes you've patched him up before –you know how to stitch up cuts but you're not a medical professional and this is a serious wound to his abdomen. there's not much you can do about it alone. you're already crying but before you can start freaking out and trying to fix things he takes your face in his hands, his grip weak, and tells you very sincerely that he loves you deeply, and he's sorry for all of the fights he's caused and all of the times he walked out on you and that it's always been you and it always will be.
he's in and out or consciousness and you're begging him to wake up, to be okay; telling him that you love him and you can't lose him. you try your best to stop the bleeding, pressing towels and old shirts against the wound but it just won't stop. so you call alfred from jason's phone, explain to him what's going on and soon enough you're playing host to a batfamily gathering in your tiny living room. dick quite literally has to drag you away from his body kicking and screaming while bruce and alfred assess the situation. they decide to take him back to the manor, and of course you follow them. you spend days by his side, waiting for him to wake up. alfred has to take you by the elbow and walk you away from him to eat dinner or shower or sleep in jason's old room.
it's just so typical that you're not there when he wakes up. you're sleeping, bundled up in his bed sheets when alfred comes to wake you. you literally leap out of bed, almost tripping over your own feet as you run into the room jason's in. that stupid grin, although strained, spreads across his lips as soon as he sees you through half-shut eyes. you're crying already, rushing to his side and resting your head on his chest, soaking his shirt with your tears. he chuckles at your reaction, teases you for being so worried about him as if he hasn't already kicked death in the dick before, and he mocks you lightheartedly for admitting that you can't live without him (it was the last thing he heard before he lost consciousness). you giggle through your tears, letting it slide because when you look up at him, he's crying too.
it literally takes jason almost dying on your living room floor for you to both realise how much you actually mean to each other, and that having a connection and a love like this isn't something that you can and should just walk away from every couple of weeks. you both decide to start working on things; learning how to control your temper and when the appropriate time to shut the fuck up would be. how to talk things through maturely, without the yelling and constant breakups. of course, you still bicker and shit talk each other. and sometimes one of you will take it too far. jason will glare at you for a moment until you give him an awkward grin and mumble 'oops', and you'll give him the silent treatment for fifteen minutes (which would feel like HELL to him) until he makes you laugh. you're happier this way, knowing that it doesn't have to be that difficult and you can just be. you're not constantly waiting for something to go wrong or for one of you to fuck up, that anxiety has dissipated and you enjoy feeling calm and content with him.
+ bonus: batfamily getting in on the drama
the first time jason stormed into the batcave at 3am, fists balled and eyes red and puffy, bruce was immensely concerned. he sat jason down, put on his best dad™️ voice and asked 'what's wrong?'. jason told him it was nothing, just a little relationship trouble and that bruce didn't have to worry it, he just needed to get away and he thought the batcave would be the perfect place to brood for a few hours before going back home. the second time jason stormed in, he was still concerned for his emotional state, but not all that surprised to see him. bruce left him alone, let jason sit next to him, listened to him curse under his breath. the seventh time? bruce sat at his desk, jason beside him, listening to him ramble on and on about what had happened and how he took it too far again but it's not entirely his fault because you pushed his buttons but he shouldn't have said that to you because he loves you but you just get on his nerves sometimes. bruce nods occasionally, murmurs 'uh-huh' just to prove to jason that he is listening. kind of. sort of. not.
dick receives frustrated, angry texts at ungodly hours in the morning from jason telling him that the relationship is over. jason isn't sure why he vents to dick. it's definitely not because dick gives good advice, jason doesn't even open the texts dick sends back full of agony-aunt type solutions. one night, he receives one of these texts from jason, telling him that you're done with him and he can't ever go back to your apartment. all he can do the next day when he sees you and jason walk into the manor, grinning at each other like you're the sun, moon and stars with his arm wrapped around your waist, is shrug his shoulders.
listen, if damian is going to be forced to sit through the weekly couples quarrel at the manor, he's at least going to make some sort of profit from it. it starts out as a secret, damian makes everyone place bets (with real cash) on how long it'll take you and jason to piss each other off when you come over for dinner. tim wins the first time, and is less than amused when he only receives half of what everyone put into the bet, damian citing that he's the organiser so he gets half of the profit. eventually, he branches out. he starts taking money for bets on how long it'll take for a fight to break out, what you'll be fighting about, and which one of you will leave the dinner table first. everyone joins in (even alfred), and when you find out about damian's little scheme, even you can't help but slide over a $20 bill with a declaration that it'll take jason 45 minutes to say something that'll have you glaring him down. you win that bet, because you know him better than anyone else, and you split the profits with jason. everyone thinks this is unfair, and you're both promptly excluded from participating in the betting.
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nicksbestie · 2 months
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Hiii could i request a Johnnie Guilbert x gn reader where johnnie has a giant crush on reader and reader flirts w him and flusters him
Yes!!! This was so fun to write bc it's my first fic for this fanbase, so pls give me feedback!! and send in more reqs!! <3
Hallway Crush
word count : 1909
no warnings!
pairing : johnnie guilbert x reader
enjoy! <3
School had never really been Johnnie’s thing.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t good enough to pursue an incredible education, it was just that he didn’t normally have the motivation. He wasn’t dumb, he was incredibly intelligent, but he just didn’t have the energy to push to show it most days. He was the kid who always passed, very average but not stellar grades, but every now and then shocked his teachers and classmates with pulling out a top of the class grade. He would laugh and call it his magic trick if you ever asked him about it. However, music was his thing, and because of that, he took every musical arts related class that he could during his years in high school. 
He was a quieter kid, with a much more alternative style of dress, and because of both of these factors, he was a bit of a loner. He wasn’t disliked, per say, but he wasn’t popular, and he didn’t go out of his way to attempt to gain a large group of friends. He had a few friends his age who went to other schools that he saw quite often, and those were good enough for him. He didn’t see a point in trying to put himself out there, so to speak, when he was quite comfortable where he was. Quality over quantity, right? That, of course, didn’t mean that there weren’t times in his life where he wished that more people adored him like they do for a lot of the popular teenagers. 
Sometimes it helped to be more on the outcast-y side. He could get away with silent observation, learning things that nobody had any idea that he knew about. He was a kid people talked so much around, but not to. They weren’t worried that their secrets would be spilled or spread around in any sort of way because they didn’t believe that he had anyone to tell them to, or that anyone would believe him in the first place. But other times, he wished he had more of the school, or at least his grade’s, support. Like now, when he had a massive crush on the most popular student in the entire school. Maybe, if he did, he would have more of a chance. 
He tried not to think about it a whole lot. It wasn’t good for him to dwell on things, as he had learned early in life. It caused his mental health to struggle if he stewed on a specific negative topic for too long, and even though the topic of a crush isn’t inherently negative, the fact that he didn’t feel like it would ever go anywhere was. Being that he didn’t have a lot of friends at the school he was at, he wasn’t a stranger to staring looks and laughing sometimes. He wasn’t exactly bullied or picked on, but when people ran out of new, fresh, drama to talk about, it was easy for them to turn to the kid who was never really speaking to many people. 
He used music to escape his own head, and he always had. It had been a coping mechanism of his for so many years, before he was even old enough to realize what it was, or what had caused him to need it more and more. He was incredibly musically gifted, a natural talent within the dexterity of his fingers for guitar, and it was always a calming thing for him to partake in. Sometimes he wrote his own music, but most times when he just needed a quick release, he would pick a song that he had been resonating with lately and strum through it a couple times. He would get lost in the feeling of the music and the feeling of the strings underneath his fingertips. It was always a thing that caused him to completely lose track of time, and he loved it. It was always a perfect thing to enjoy something you were also so good at. It kept that passion for it alive.
The music room was where he went during his free time. He couldn’t drive, and luckily, his free periods lined up with the music free periods, so he could always be found in that room, playing something on his guitar in the back corner. He also went there during lunch, preferring to spend the time doing something productive for his music. He really wanted to go into a career in music, and he was working so hard to achieve that despite many of the struggles he was facing at the same time. He poured his heart and soul into every song, every piece, that he wrote, and even when he didn’t like the music very much, he was proud of his ability to be vulnerable and put it onto the pages. That had taken a lot of personal growth for him to realize that to put good songs and things that he was proud of into the world, he would have to bare parts of himself for view.
It was during this part of his day, lunch time, when he was sitting in the music room, playing on his guitar. He was the only one in the room, and like usual, he was sitting in the back, not wanting to disturb anyone who could potentially choose to walk in. And after about ten minutes of the lunch period going by, there was someone who walked in, and Johnnie wanted to curse all ancestors before him for this type of bad luck. It would be the one person that he wanted to see more than anyone else in the school, but at the same time, he wouldn’t have been able to really talk to without humiliating himself. Only his luck. 
He didn’t speak to you when you walked in, but he did offer a kind smile when you looked up and made eye contact, before looking back down at his guitar and continuing to work on his own music. You had stopped by the music room because you had a music project that had to be completed, but you weren’t very musically inclined, so you felt very grateful that you didn’t have to present it, only had to turn it in. However, you did still have to make an effort, but you didn’t have a guitar at home, so you were stopping by to use the ones in the music room. You only knew a couple of chords, but it was the most that you knew on any instrument, so it was your best option. All you had to do was come up with a simple melody, a short strumming pattern, and that would pretty much be it, but for someone who wasn’t great at music, that was harder than it sounded. 
And it sounded pretty bad. Johnnie would never have said that directly to your face, but if you had turned around and watched him in the back corner, you would have been able to see him slightly grimacing whenever a chord sounded particularly bad. He wasn’t judging, necessarily, he remembered very well when he had been playing the exact same way, and if he felt anything, it would just be sorry for you because he could see on your face how frustrating the chords sounding incorrect were for you. After about ten more minutes of this, he stopped playing his own guitar, quietly watching and listening to the chords you were attempting to play. He listened to a couple shaky renditions of them, and attempted to play them on his own instrument. 
As soon as he did, you turned around, noticing how he froze as soon as your eyes were on him. 
“No, go on. Please. That’s exactly what I wanted it to sound like. How did you do that?” 
Taking a leap of faith, he got up to move across the room, pulling a chair up next to you and reaching his hands out. 
“May I?” 
You handed him the guitar, nodding, intently watching the way that he adjusted it on his lap before beginning to play it again. 
“You’re not pushing the strings down hard enough, and your fingers are too far away from the fret. That’s why it sounds so… that’s what you need to fix for it to sound a lot better.” 
You laughed, gently taking the guitar back. 
“Sounds so bad, it’s okay, you can say it.” 
He smiled, a blush gently dusting his face. 
“I wasn’t going to say bad. I was going to say buzzy but I felt that might be slightly insulting.” 
You shook your head, taking his advice and focusing on repositioning your fingers the way he had instructed. Strumming downwards, a smile broke out on your face when the first chord sounded so much better. Confidence boosted, you moved to the next one, wincing when it sounded worse than the original. His kind expression didn’t disappear, and instead he moved closer, a question in his eyes before he spoke it. You attempted to hand the guitar back to him, assuming he was going to ask to hold it again for a demonstration, but he quickly cut you off.
“No, keep everything where you are. Can I touch you?” 
You couldn’t deny the fact that your heart was racing. Despite your opposite styles and aesthetics, you had always found the style that Johnnie wore incredibly attractive. It wouldn’t fit you the way that it did him, but it looked so damn good on him, and apparently, he was oblivious to that fact. You wouldn’t have called it a crush at first assumption, but maybe that’s exactly what it was. You hide those feelings, throwing on a cocky look and smiling at him. 
“What exactly are you asking for?” 
He stammered in defense before noticing that you were smiling at him, and the dusty pink that had been on his face now turned a much darker red, and he just shook his head, looking back down at the guitar, refocusing. However, you thought if you were going to be getting closer to finishing this project, you were at least going to have a little fun while you were at it, especially with such a pretty boy right in front of you. 
“Don’t worry, I’m just messing with you. I’d say yes regardless, though.” 
His head snapped back up, an unbelieving laugh slipping out of his lips. 
“You can’t just say things like that.” 
You smiled at him, motioning for him to continue what he was doing, and he did. He moved around behind you to adjust his arm on the guitar as well, and gently moved and applied pressure to your fingertips before telling you to try strumming it now. 
“Why not?” 
He shook his head, instructing you to test out the chord again before replying. 
“You just can’t.” 
The chord sounded wonderful in comparison to what it had sounded like thirty minutes prior, and you were so grateful for all of Johnnie’s help. His head was right next to yours, a gentle smile on his face, a little bit of pride, and a lot of blushing prompted your next question.
“Can I kiss you instead?” 
He turned his head to stare at you, nearly wide-eyed, shocked with the realization that this wasn’t a dream, it was actually happening. This time, he didn’t hesitate to reply. 
“Yes. That you can do.”
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sidekick-hero · 5 months
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let the impulse to love and the instinct to kill entangle to one
(steddie | wc: 918 | teen | written for @steddiemas and @steddieholidaydrabbles (prompt: came back wrong) | tags: fluff, first kiss, kas!eddie
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"I'm not staring at you. I'm staring at your ugly ass sweater. What is that thing?" Steve asks, aiming to sound appalled but failing miserably. There is too much affection in his voice, laughter echoing in every word.
He thinks he can't be blamed, though, because Eddie looks ridiculous in that big green and red sweater with Rudolph the Reindeer on it, pulling an empty flying sleigh. Especially with the gray tinted skin and the sharp teeth and the fucking wings that spilled out of the cuts in the back of the sweater.
"Where's Santa, huh? Did you eat him?" Steve laughs and Eddie chirps again, this time clearly offended. He pulls away from where he was leaning against Steve, climbs off the bed and retreats to the farthest wall. Standing there in a defensive pose with his arms crossed over his chest, Eddie hangs his head and hunches his shoulders, making himself small. His long, black curls hide most of his face, but Steve can still see the onyx color of his eyes gleaming in the dim light of his bedside lamp.
The sight makes his heart ache in his chest.
Getting up from where he's been sitting cross-legged on his bed, Steve pads over to him, determined to fix whatever he's done to make Eddie look like this. But when he ducks his head to catch Eddie's eyes, all he gets is an irritated growl as Eddie turns his head away from Steve's searching gaze. Behind him, his tail flicks back and forth angrily.
One thing he didn't know about Eddie before, but learned pretty quickly, is how damn stubborn he can be. Good thing Steve is not one to give up easily, having spent nearly four years babysitting teenagers.
His hand slowly reaches out, making his intentions clear until it rests on Eddie's forearm. He learned his lesson when Eddie first started coming to his room late at night, still has the scars to remind him of that lesson. He knows that Eddie didn't mean to hurt him. Steve just startled him the first time he reached out to touch him without warning, eager in his excitement to see Eddie alive.
Things have changed since then. A lot.
Eddie is less cagey, no longer afraid of Steve. He tolerates his touch now, even seeks it out. But he still doesn't take well to surprises. Steve wonders what happened to him all those months he was lost in the Upside Down and thinks maybe it's better he doesn't know. He's not sure he wouldn't do something rash and epically stupid if he did.
"Sorry, Eds, I know you don't eat people. It was a dumb joke, I didn't mean anything by it." His thumb smooths over the tense muscles he can feel under the soft material of the sweater. It looks like it should be scratchy, offending more senses than just his eyes, but it isn't.
Just like Eddie looks scary, but isn't.
It seems to be the right thing to say, because the onyx of his eyes takes on a warmer shade, like very dark chocolate or the first precious coffee of the morning. Eddie chirps again and shakes his head.
"No, I mean it, Eddie. I don't think you're a monster. I know you wouldn't hurt anyone, it was a really stupid joke. I guess I'm still an asshole sometimes and -"
Eddie interrupts his ramblings by bumping his head against Steve's before nuzzling close to his neck, chirping and purring. He still can't talk, even though Steve hasn't given up hope that he will, but that doesn't mean he can't communicate.
"Okay, okay, no bad self-talk. Got it, jeez. You're worse than Robin, I swear," Steve laughs as he runs his hands through Eddie's soft curls. Secretly, he doesn't mind letting their bodies do much of the talking. Words have never been his strong suit, but this? He's damn good at this.
"But honestly, what's with the ugly ass sweater, huh?" He can't help but ask again as he practically holds Eddie in his arms. He's colder to the touch than a normal human, but Steve doesn't mind. He always runs a little hotter than most, so it balances out perfectly.
Eddie pulls back a little so he can look at Steve and points to Steve's chest with his claw.
"Me? What do I have to do with this? It's not one of mine, is it?"
Eddie shakes his head and his claw taps Steve's chest again, then points at himself and the ugly sweater.
"I'm sorry, Eds, I don't -"
The claw moves from his chest to his face and Steve holds still, his eyes crossing as it follows the deadly weapon. Eddie's finger touches his mouth, effectively shushing him, before the tip of the claw slips between his lips and pulls ever so gently at the right corner of Steve's mouth, forcing a crooked smile.
"Sssseve" Eddie hisses, the first words he's spoken since he returned not quite the same as before, and it clicks.
"You were trying to make me laugh?"
Eddie beams at him. "Ssseve," he says again, chirping with delight and Steve can't help but kiss him. Eddie freezes for a second under his mouth before kissing him back urgently as more sounds pour out of him between kisses, chirping and purring against Steve's mouth.
So what if Eddie came back a bit wrong? He came back to them. To Steve.
In his book, that's worth more than normal anyway.
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teyamsatan · 10 months
Text
ੈ♡˳ ɪ ɢᴏ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛɪᴍᴇ
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Pairing: Neteyam x Omaticaya!Reader
Synopsis: You and Neteyam's relationship only knows the 3Fs: fighting, fleeing or... loving.
Requested: Yes.
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI. aged up!, smut (p in v, oral - f receiving, light choking, praise kink), fluff, kinda toxic relationship but it's fine cause it's neteyam and i don't see red when it comes to him, it's all golden
WC: 2.3k words
A/N: how the hell did this also turn fluffy in the end??? what is wrong w me??? anyway, i had so so much fun with this request, it might quickly become one of my favourite things i've ever written. thank you so much for the sweet anonnie who suggested it, and i hope you enjoy x
I get tired of your no-shows You get tired of my control They keep telling me to let go But I don't really let go when I say so 
"Everybody's going out. Just come out with us. Don't let him ruin another perfectly nice eclipse."
Your best friend was so right, as she always was, as she gave you this speech for what felt like the millionth time in the years you've had an on-again, off-again situationship with the prince of the Omaticaya, the one and only Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan - a man you loved, that you wished you didn't sometimes, most times, especially tonight, as he forgot about your plans... again, in order to train for way longer than was needed or necessary, way longer than anybody else... again.
Look, you loved Neteyam's drive. It was part of what drove you to him to begin with. He was unrelenting and determined, he was powerful and skilled, he was savvy and intelligent, he was beautiful and charming, he loved his family to death and was incredibly loyal and all those things made him just so. damn. hot.
They also made him the reason you wanted to pull your braids out, because those traits were good in moderation, but nothing was ever grey with Neteyam. No, Neteyam was all or nothing always, black or white and nothing else, and that meant that loyalty for his family quickly turned into neglect for you, determination for his practice quickly turned to forgetfulness of you, and his power, beauty, intelligence and charm meant you never got to do anything about it, because, if you ever tried, you ended up overpowered, outsmarted and fucked dumb face down on your mat until you forgot you were ever mad to begin with.
I've tried to fight our energy, but everytime I think I'm free  You get high and call on the regular I get weak and fall like a teenager Why, oh why does God keep bringing me back to you?
"How many times do I have to tell you I'm sorry? I need to do this, tiyawn, I have to be stronger for my family, for my clan... for you. You're being unreasonable."
"I'm being unreasonable?! Are you out of your fucking mind?"
You feel tears pool in your eyes and spill like a broken fountain as you take him in, bloodied gashes and muddy patches, tired eyes and calloused hands and still... the most beautiful man you've ever seen in your life. He looked at you exasperatedly, like you're the crazy one, and you hate it. Hate what he's doing to you, hate that he doesn't consider you or think about you, and that his sorries are always stained with unspoken truths, like how he doesn't truly mean it, not when to him, it's all justified, it's all warranted, and shouldn't be questioned.
"Every day and night, I do nothing but wait, Neteyam. Wait for a man who doesn't think twice about the plans he's made, the promises he never keeps, the memories that sour with every absence he gifts to me like a necklace that half-chokes me to death. I'm tired. I can't do this anym-"
A kiss is all it takes to silence you, to stun you, to make you melt in his embrace the way you always do, all the arguments and the ultimatums swallowed under the intensity of the touch of his lips on yours, his tongue meeting your own in a welcome embrace, so intimate and knowing, so fucking frustrating.
"Net-..."
His thumb traces your lips, the mix of your salivas making the glide easy, as his beautiful golden eyes bore into yours with enough force to cower you, to make you hunger and ache for more. That's all you ever wanted when it comes to Neteyam - more. When his finger pushes gently past your lips and into your mouth, you immediately close them around him and lick... and suck, and he moans, his gaze growing darker and needier with each second you're not writhing under him, the way you should be, the way you were meant to be.
"No, tiyawn. I can't let you speak if you insist on saying those insipid, meaningless words again. You won't leave, because you can't leave. Because you're mine. And I'm yours. You own me."
His hand grabs yours and redirects it to his loincloth, tented up under the weight of his hard-on and the slight damp spot under your touch makes you swallow instinctively. You had no thoughts outside of him anymore, outside of the overwhelming desire that took over you whenever he was in your presence, his being inundating your senses and hijacking your mind to be rid of all but him, full of him, only him.
"Look what you do to me. You. Only you. I need you. Always. I know I'm not good enough, I know, but ..."
His hands find their way to your ass, lifting you gently, and you wrap your thighs around him, although there's no need, not when he moves you just a few feet until he's sitting on your mat, laying you gently on it. When he moves his hands, he takes your loincloth with him, and you whine softly at the sudden cool breeze that hits your aching, sopping core.
"...Let me show you how sorry I am."
When he lays down with his head between your thighs, you know he's forgiven already, because whatever he's about to do is always more than enough to make up for all the shit he didn't do, because the stuff he knows how to do is enough to excuse world calamities and mass destruction in your mind.
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Just when I get on a new wave Boy, you look at me and I slip outta my lace They keep calling me a head-case 'Cause I can't make a good case why we can't change
"You're out of your mind, tiyawn."
"Well, if I'm out of my mind, then you made me out of my mind, you skxawng."
"Can we talk about this somewhere more private?"
You have to admit, starting the fight at the communal dinner in front of his parents, the leaders of the clan, and your friends, and everyone you knew, was probably a bit gauche and uncouth, but you think it was just more than anything a perfect testimony of how this man drove you to the brink of insanity in a way no one else could.
"Fine, but I swear to Eywa that if you -"
"A-ah, fuck!"
Propped with your hands on his shoulders, his fingers around your throat, you were bouncing up and down his cock, trying to ignore how you could be caught at any point, how close you were to the communal fire, barely covered by some shrubbery, how fear was fuel for your desire as his tip kept slamming into your cervix so hard you felt it in your ribcage when he rutted upwards into you.
"Quiet, tiyawn. You don't want people to hear us, now do you?"
A glint of mischief flashed across his eyes, smirk to match, as he brought the hand he had gripped on your hips to help him move you on his length forward, circling your clit masterfully and you whimper again, eliciting a small laugh from him.
"Or maybe you like that? 'That turn you on, huh? My dirty girl."
The sound of skin slapping against skin was so strident you'd be surprised if someone wouldn't come just to see if they can catch the end tail of a rousing performance people couldn't help but clap for, but to be honest with yourself, you didn't care. It was known in the village - your mad, intense, mercurial, quixotic relationship with Neteyam. You were both crazy - for each other, and in general, it seemed, because you fought, fled and fucked more often than truly anyone could keep with with.
"Eywa, I love watching you take my cock. You're such a good girl, and you always take me so well, tiyawn. So well."
You said nothing as the rush of all the sensations trying you quickly became overwhelming, as the heady combination of being chocked by a man who knew how to use it to your advantage helped heighten his ministrations on your clit, his wild and intemperate thrusts that stretched you and filled like you craved, like only he could, and you come, whining and sobbing, nails digging painfully in his skin. He follows suit, his own groans unable to be kept hidden, and he releases his hand from around your neck and brings it back to the nape of your neck, willing you softly in his chest, where, although full of cobwebs and a little dusty, would always be your home.
"Shh, that's right. Did so well for me, tiyawn. My perfect girl." A kiss on your temple, soft and intimate, and the constant shower of unbridled praise, that you lived to see come out of his beautiful mouth as he filled you up with his cock, reminded you why you stayed and came back, over and over. Because it was worth it. And he was worth it.
"I'm still fucking mad at you."
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I get drunk, pretend that I'm over it Self-destruct, show up like an idiot Why, oh why does God keep bringing me Back to you?
"We are never getting back together. Like ever." you say in between sips of fermented yovo juice, that always goes to your head way too quickly, that always makes a mess out of your tongue and a slur of your words.
"I want to believe you, friend...I really do, but... you've said that one too many times. You're the girl that cried Palulukan. Nobody's coming to rescue you now, sister."
"N-no..." the hiccup was violent enough to make you throw up in your mouth and you groaned, the headache caused by the startled yelp digging in your temples. “I me-mean it this t-time. It’s o-over.” You were stomping your feet in determination, eager to prove that you would once and for all be rid of the man that was nowhere to be found for the village celebration that he’s known about for months.
“Lo-Lo’ak! Hey Lo’ak!” The sighting of Neteyam’s nicer, more amiable, sociable younger brother was a one for sore eyes, as it proved that it wasn’t family duty keeping your boyfriend… ex-boyfriend… away, it was his own maddening stubbornness and selfishness doing it instead.
“Neteyam’s training… I’m sorry. We told him to come, but he… gets in like a weird trance whenever he’s on the grounds, I swear it’s like something out of an Earth zombie movie.”
You didn’t know what he was talking about and he didn’t elaborate before he took off, leaving you leaning against a tree with only your tiny friend as a barrier between your face and the cold, hard, ground.
“Argh, who cares?! It’s be-better he’s gone, he’s a k-killjoy anyway and i for one a-am happy to be rid of-“
“Neteyam!” Tuk’s screams close to deafen you and the sound was the last push your body needed to lunge itself forward and hurl the contents of your stomach onto the mossy ground that was now more yellow than it had ever been green.
“Oh, mighty and all-powerful Eywa.”
“Hi, Syulen. I got it, thanks.”
“Take her home, Neteyam. And don’t get any funny ideas.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Come, tiyawn.”
You wanted to protest, but the bile in your mouth was bitter and burning, and so you didn’t, not as he picked you up as gently as if you were a precious flower he didn’t want to wilt, not when he pressed a kiss on your temple as his arm found the back of your knees for added support, not as he carried you home silently, outside of the soft-spoken coos of affection and apologies, while you mumbled unattractively in his chest.
“I hate y-you.”
"I know."
"You're the wo-worst."
"I know."
As you reached your tent, you were greeted by soft trills and purrs that sobered you immediately, that made you jump from his arms and onto the ground, where a small pup lay. It was cautious as you approached, but eventually relaxed around you and let you kneel beside it. It has an ugly gash across its back, that looked like it had been tended to. It was a Palulukan pup, and the thought made fevered chills run down your spine.
"Neteyam, wha-"
"I found him coming back from practice. He was hurt and limping, and clinging to his mother's corpse. I took him home and have been helping my grandmother tend to him ever since. That's why I'm late."
“I know you’ve been lonely since your parents died. Well, he seemed lonely too. His parents are gone, and so I thought… you could be his new home. And I could be yours. I’m done running away, tiyawn. From now on, I only want to run towards things. Towards you. I’m yours. You own me. For good, this time. If you still want me.”
You smile a sheepish smile, looking up at him through your lashes while you pet the new priceless addition to your small family. You really were the girl that cried Palulukan.
“If I say no, will you take him away?”
He winced a little, a grimace marring his beautiful features.
“Of course not.”
“If I say yes, can we all be a family?”
The grimace dissolved as quickly as it appeared and a dazzling, gummy smile replaced it, one that dizzied you in its utter and undeniable beauty, one that you couldn’t help replicate, not when kneeled in front of you and took your face in his hands, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs, his own face mere inches from yours.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
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taglist: @fanboyluvr @yagirlheree @teyamsbitch
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nburkhardt · 11 months
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Somebody Loves You, You Got A Friend.
Hello! This is my abo teenage parents steddie fic I talked about a few times. Wrote it a while ago for myself, never felt quite confident for sharing. But after sharing the few snippets, here’s the start! There’s real no end to it, it’s mostly slice of life with nearly no real plot. (Title is from Spaceship by Andy Grammer)
Some info you should know: it takes place in season 2. Originally wasn’t going to include the upside down but switched it to have it. ANYWAY, enjoy the start! It’s mostly Steve angst and only a hint of Eddie lol.
So, here’s the thing… Steve never keep his secondary gender a secret. In fact, he was quite proud of it. Mostly because it pisses his dad off to no end, and well, pissing off his dad is one of his and his mom’s favorite past time.
With that said he was definitely proud to take after his mom and for being a male omega. He knows it probably pisses more people off than they let on and really, that makes his fucking day.
Sometime around the time he entered high school, his status went sky high. He didn’t mind, though finding true friends was rough. Especially when Tommy and Carol glued themselves to him within a few hours of knowing him. Since he didn’t keep his omega status a secret, they thought he was weaker and needed to be protected. With Tommy being an alpha and Carol a beta, they decided to be best friends. It pissed him off, but at the time he didn’t have many friends. But of course, he’s not weak. He knows how to protect himself and even others.
His life gets flipped upside down, shortly after Nancy Wheeler calls him ‘bullshit’ in a bathroom at a dumb Halloween party.
It’s been months since Will Byers disappeared, thought dead and found alive. Also months since Nancy’s best friend fucking died while sitting at his pool. All while he and Nancy were in bed, they only found out in the next morning at school.
Nancy’s words send him spiraling down immediately, because unlike her, he does or did love her. So in a blind panic, he leaves the room and then the house and straight into the forest behind. Freaking out and sobbing as he went.
He didn’t know how long he was there, all he remembers of the night is panicking and then someone that smells of smoke, rain and freshly cut grass, helps him to his car and on his way. With only a matchbook with a number on it sitting on his passenger seat as who helped him.
In the morning, he gets ready for school, kisses his mom on the cheek and goes on his way. Only pocketing the matchbook as he parks in the school parking lot.
The day is simple only because he avoids Nancy as much as he can and then nearly get his ass handed to him by the new big alpha in town, Billy Hargrove.
“Should plant your feet, pretty boy”
He rolls his eyes, “shove the fuck off, Hargrove”
Billy is about to do another shove, he can’t figure out why to be honest. His scent is currently covered by scent blockers, the one thing his mom told him to take. When he notices Nancy waving him down, so he goes willingly to that danger instead.
It’s nothing but anger from her, it’s rolling off her in her scent even with a blocker, “Why didn’t you pick me up?”
He scruffs, “because I’m apparently bullshit?”
She at least flinches at that. But doesn’t apologize, at least, not the way he’d like. She does try to excuse it all by saying she was drunk and if there is one thing he took to heart from his asshole dad; drunk words are sober thoughts.
The final kicker of the whole conversation: her not saying “I love you” after he pleads her to.
He decides after that, Nancy Wheeler is someone he refuses to be with.
If you made it this far great!! Because after this the real fun begins 🥳 meaning Eddie is actually there and you get to meet my favorite person, Janet Harrington… Steve’s mom! This was just getting things mostly set up. I hope it doesn’t seem too weird with jumping around or weird phrasing lol.
(Btw, I don’t necessarily keep to everything everyone does in abo fics. I go with whatever I like and easy to work with. So there’s scents, mates, pack easy things. Nothing too explicit either, I’m definitely not confident enough to post smut hahaha.) OH AND IF YOU HAVE QUESTIONS OR WANNA TALK ABOUT THIS AU MY MESSAGES AND ASK BOX IS ALWAYS OPEN!!!!!
Permanent Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay
Also those who liked my snippet: @zerokrox-blog @callme-keys @maya-custodios-dionach @rajumat @yellowdevilkitten @munsonfamilyband @steddierthings
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b0nten · 5 months
Text
BLUEBELLS, YOURS TRULY.
[SYNOPSIS] ˚⁀➷。 albeit rarely, rindou overthinks, and frequently, ran doesn’t think too much.
[NOTES] ˚⁀➷。 this is like the “backstory” for the ring. MAYBE i’ll turn it into a multiple part. i also put it in the timeline where everyone is happy because i really love everyone being friends. wrote it because rays’s version destroyed me !!!!!!!!!!!
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he spins the ring on his finger. he slides it off. he looks at it. he lets it hang from his neck, on the chain. he sighs.
“now what the hell is up with you?” barging in, ran asks. “who shat in your cereal every morning for the past two weeks?” he says, opening the kitchen cupboard to take — funny enough — some cereal out.
“i’m not in the mood, ran.” his younger brother spits back, head falling against the wooden table.
“hey now, there’s something really wrong with you if you’re acting like .. this.” pointing at him, he sits down, fat bowl of cereal clashing against the dark block, spilling some milk onto it. “now, spill.” with mouth full, he tries to choke out the words, spoon in his brothers face the moment he gulps down the first mouthful.
“you’re gross sometimes.” rindou just sighs, looking away.
“what’s with the ring?” ignoring the insult, the lanky haitani just continues his questioning. “by the way, the blue doesn’t look that bad on you.”
“it’s mine, and i got a matching one for y/n.” the other explains, “thanks, by the way. it was her idea to dye it like this.”
“you wanna propose to her?” his older brother asks, chewing loudly. “y’know we’re still just teenagers?”
“no shit, big head.” rolling his eyes, rindou feels the exasperation dig its roots deeper into his brain. “i’m not proposing. yet. but i don’t know if i should give it to her.” he finally says, letting ran in on his worries.
“and why not? what’s that? cartier, right?”
“no brand can escape your gaze, you’re really unbelievable.”
“thanks, bro, love you too.” as he swallows his last spoonful, ran winks.
“not in a good way.” the younger sibling announces, earning a displeased look from his brother.
“now you’re the annoying one. fuck’s going with you two?” ran finally snaps, trying not look worried. after all, he loves his brother, but they don’t do that kind of talking.
“she’s leaving next week” rindou finally manages to choke out.
“what? what do you mean?” his brother asks, taken aback by the sudden information.
“her student visa’s expired. she’s gotta go back home until gets it renewed.”
it pains him to even think about it. he hasn’t eaten in almost fourteen days, ever since he found out. but what pains him even more is how excited you are about going back home. about going away from him.
he thinks it’s selfish, because he knows how much you’ve missed your parents and how much you’ve waited for a holiday that’s long enough to return.
“if the flights take four days in total and i want to stay for two weeks, then i’d rather not go anymore.” you always said. “i want to spend as much time as possible, without having to rush anything, y’know?
but maybe sometimes love is all about being selfish, loving someone with your whole heart. maybe he wants to never let you leave without him. maybe he can’t let you leave without him because he can’t stand not being an 8 minute subway ride away from you.
“don’t tell me you got some of those control issues, the pretty tiktok girls say they’re not cute at all…” ran comments, dodging an uppercut by a mere second.
“can you take me seriously for once? i think she wants to break up with me, she called me over today saying we have to talk.” rin frowns, blond-blue bangs covering his tired eyes. “i shouldn’t have believed that tiktok reading that said good news are coming my way.”
“you’re so fucking dumb, lord have mercy.”
“excuse me, ran?”
“you’re excused. let’s get this straight: does it really matter to you wether she’s oceans away or in meguro? what do you think she’s gonna do, break up with you only to return in three months and see you everywhere? do you really think y/n’s that kind of girlfriend? throw away three years BECAUSE OF A VISA?! fuck outta here with that insecure crap, rin. i raised you better than that.”
on the inside, ran smiles. oh, how he loves knocking sense into his younger brother. truly the best activity.
“now go and talk to her.”
rindou hesitates.
“i won’t say it nicely the second time around.” the older one threatens, and rindou jolts up from his chair and bolts through the door, house slippers still on, door wide open. before ran can say anything else, rindou’s voice echoes from the staircase into the kitchen:
“i’ll buy a new pair when i get back, don’t start bitching, please! i’ve got a girl i have to convince not to break up with me!”
his older brother laughs as he pulls out his phone.
sister in law
(16:22) he’s on his way.
then, a ping fills the empty space.
sister in law
(16:23) already talked to mikey. everything’s going great.
(16:23) love you, big head
(16:23)🫰
maybe ran’s not gonna tell you the reason rindou is running like a maniac through minato ward right now.
ugh, is his head really that big?
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tagging: @h4nman BECAUSE YOU MADE ME CRY😡😡😡 ; @sirachano0dles <3 i might start a taglist if i make this into a multiple part fic?!?
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keeganbrainmush · 1 year
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John Price x top male reader where Price is stressed and reader suggests sex. Maybe overstimulatetion and dumb fucking. In Price's office??? If you're not comfortable writing this that's fine.
John price x Top! Male reader ∞I'm trying out some new formats for my fics ∞Drabble ; Male Reader ; Explicit NSFW Mention, Minors DNI ∞Includes: Dumb fucking, office sex, on-desk sex, Bottom Price.
navigation.
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John hunched over his desk tiredly, his forehead resting on his forearms. A position you would commonly see in a room full of bored teenagers in math class. He suddenly heard a knock on the door of his home office. " Come in, Love. " He welcomed, a bright smile lighting up his face as you opened the door.
" How's it going? " You asked, running your hands over his shoulders and giving them light squeezes in a massaging motion. He instantly relaxed under your touch and threw his head back to look up at you. " Not good I'm afraid. I'm stressed out, (Name). " He admitted, sighing quietly as one of your hands made its way up to rub at his hair. He practically melted in your touch like ice cream in a california summer.
You looked down at him in a pitiful but loving way. " You got anyway you wanna relax? You've been cooped up in here for hours, baby. " You reminded him, looking at the clock. " There's no way you're not ahead of schedule already. " You leaned down to kiss his forehead. His smile widened even more, raising one of his arms to touch at your neck. " How do you think I could release some stress then? " He asked.
You had the perfect idea.
" How about I fuck you over your desk? " You prompted innocently, throwing him a suggestive smile. He laughed under your touch, feeling his shake with laughter. " What? I'm serious! " You told him, you couldn't help but laugh as you continued kissing his face in various places. John moved the tilt of his head slightly to kiss you on the lips, grabbing the back of your head gently to pull you into it.
You pulled your lips away as you bit his lower lip softly. " Is that a yes, then? " You asked, making sure he was on board. " Yes, you muppet. " He retorted teasingly as he leaned up to kiss you again. You smiled against his soft lips at his stupid british slang. Sometimes it was nearly a dealbreaker especially with the ' wanker ' remarks.
You moved from behind his chair while you lifted him on top of his desk, carefully pushing his papers aside without breaking the kiss once. You would've gotten an earful if you'd just tossed him aside. You pulled his pants down to his ankle and spread his legs and glanced down to the small wet spot forming on his boxers. " You wet for me already, Price? " You asked, touching at the fading hickeys on his thighs from your past sessions.
" Oh shut up. Its your teasing. " He mumbled under his breathe, trying not to moan from your simple touches as he wiggled his hips in anticipation. " Really? Or is it the thought of you getting fucked dumb on your work desk? " You asked, giving him a slight pinch on the meat of his thigh as he twitched under you. " Why do you have to have such a dirty mouth.. " John complained jokingly, jolting as he felt his boxers being pulled down with his cock springing up.
You spat in your hand and brought your hand to his dick and began stroking him. " I don't know. I do know that you like shoving your tongue down this filthy mouths throat. " You responded, feeling your pants get tighter at the crotch as John let out deep moans as he felt your thumb tease at his tip. " Please don't tease me. Just fuck me already. " He mumbled as he leaned forward into your neck, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.
You moved your slick hand down to his ass and prodded at his rim with your index finger, trying not to chuckle at the way he tried to grind himself down on your fingers. " Easy there, John. " You warned, pushing your fingers into him slowly as he let out a breathy moan.
You gradually put more fingers inside of him until he was stretched out, his thighs were shaking as if he was on the verge of cumming already. " You ready for me? " You asked, taking your fingers out of him as he nodded hazily. You spat on your hand again and spread it over your now freed cock before lining it up with Johns ass. " if it starts to hurt just tell me. " You told him, pulling him into a small kiss as you pushed into him.
John shuddered as you pushed into him completely until you sat snugly inside of him. " Tell me when to move, baby. " He nodded again, grinding himself against you slightly. " Move, please. " He mumbled politely. Huh. Even when he about to get fucked stupid he still has manners. You pushed him down until his back was laid against his desk, putting your hands under his knees as you began fucking into him slowly.
John let out breathy moans as he felt air being knocked out of his lungs everytime your hips slapped against his. From your fingering and teasing and now this, he was already close to cumming. He arched his back and started grinding himself back on you intime with your thrusts.
Johns eyes startedrolling back as he let out a high pitched moan as he came over his stomach, expecting you to slow down and whining when your hips didn't falter. " I told you I was gonna fuck you dumb, wasn't I? I'm gonna make sure you don't even remember why you were stressed. " You promised, looking for any signs of retaliation on his face or body language.
His leaking cock only seemed to grow harder at your promise, nodding desperately as he looked up at you needily with drool starting to leak onto his lips with tears prickling at his eyes.
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stuckysbike · 7 months
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Kiss Me Once In The Moonlight
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Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Warnings: Angst, unrequited?feelings. Fluff.
Summary: You’ve fallen in love, but he wants someone else.
It was a cold mid October Saturday night when you realised you were in love with Bucky Barnes.
Natasha had ushered you out of your solitude and over to her private apartment on the compound. Steve was already there, along with Sam, Joaquin, Yelana, a few from the medical team and a few mechanics.
The place was decorated for spooky season, with playful ghosts and fuzzy spiders hiding in the corners. Everyone got comfortable and music played in the background whilst you snacked on nuts and candied apples and sipped beer. Halloween meets Octoberfest was the theme.
Bucky had been telling a story, his face lit up and his big hands flying everywhere as he described his mom chasing him with a broom during his teenage years after a Halloween fright. Occasionally his eyes met yours and they sparkled, but you figured he was like that with everyone.
You’d been crushing on him since you arrived in January and he was first to greet you. He seemed fascinated by your job, research and data analyst, but it was ultimately boring to almost everyone but you.
You lunched together sometimes and you swapped books every few weeks. You even got him into podcasts and you were always swapping recommendations.
But tonight he looked happy, relaxed even, and when Natasha dropped her dainty feet into his lap you felt the world skip underneath you, you wanted to put your feet in his lap. You wanted his big hands dwarfing your feet.
He rubbed her toes without thinking, and she snuggled down as the mechanics started describing the prank they’d played on Tony this week, going so far as to rope Pepper in.
“Wanna stay here tonight?” You heard Natasha murmur to Bucky during a lull in conversation. Sam was changing the music and Joaquin was setting up tequila shots.
He smiled at her but shook his head. “Nah,” his voice was thick with tiredness.
“You finally made a move on that girl?” She teased wiggling in her spot.
Bucky’s cheeks tinged pink and you dropped your eyes when you realised you were staring. You didn’t want to be caught looking like some dumb kid.
It was foolish to think that Bucky with his wonderful abilities and handsome looks would be interested in you who spent most of your time at work or alone.
“Think I’m gonna’ take her out, yeah,” he nodded. You snuck a glance at him in time to catch him looking from you to Natasha.
Oh god, he must have noticed you staring. How embarrassing!
Tears that had no right to form stung your eyes and you stood suddenly distracting Steve who was kneeling at the coffee table next to you. Sam took the opportunity to defeat him in their thumb war game much to Steve’s annoyance.
“I’m going to head back, I’m just really tired,” you said to the room, avoiding Bucky. “Thank you for the invitation Natasha.”
There were a few comments asking you to stay but ultimately everyone wished you a good sleep. Your own room was a fifteen minute walk away in a shared block and you pulled your arms around yourself to fight the cold as you stepped outside.
“Hey Doll,” Bucky called startling you.
“Bucky, hi,” you frowned.
“Thought I’d walk you back,” he said falling into step with you. “And I wanted your advice.”
“Oh?”
“So there’s this girl I like. She’s not like the others, she’s not really - she’s different. And I really want to make a date special for her, you know?” He glanced as you, letting his arm bump yours as you walked.
“I do,” you sighed resigning yourself to your fate. You didn’t want to have this conversation but you didn’t want to not help him either. He was your friend after all.
“So I’ve had a few first date ideas, I’m thinking farmers market then making brunch together? I started this really great podcast and I was thinking we could listen together as we cook then talk about it while we eat? Then after we could go to a museum or something?” Bucky licked his lips and stopped looking at you.
You didn’t want him to share a podcast with her. That was your thing with him. You knew you were being unfair, childish even but right now you didn’t care.
“That sounds lovely,” you said. And it did, you wished you were that girl, you wished Bucky wanted to go to all that trouble for you but instead you’d have to sit home alone tomorrow whilst he woo’d someone else.
“Yeah?” He asked excitedly. “I really just wanna’ hold her hand, at the market, in the museum, I just crave that feeling you know, like this,” Bucky reached for your hand and laced your fingers together, holding your joined hands up to inspect. “It’s been a long time since I held a girls hand like this.”
“I-I’m sure it has Buck,” you swallowed. He resumed walking and you could do nothing but join him, he still had your hand in his. He described his outfit for his date and wondered if you had a cosy chunky sweater.
“I do, it’s so comfortable,” you said softly. You couldn’t hide the disappointment as you slowed in front of the doors. “It’s my favourite colour too.”
“Will you wear it tomorrow?” Bucky tilted his head to the side.
“Why does it matter what I wear?” You couldn’t help but giggle at his odd request. You couldn’t though, thinking of him with someone else whilst you wore what he asked you to.
“I want to know that you’re warm tomorrow. You know, on our date?” Bucky pressed his cool left hand on your cheek as he turned to face you. His kiss was soft, just a sweet brush of the lips and then he pulled away. “I’ll see you at nine thirty?”
“Uh huh,” you nodded dumbly. He kissed you again, and you caught the faint taste of whiskey on his lips. He was warm as he pressed into you and you let your hands slide up his chest to his shoulders.
“See you tomorrow baby girl,” he pressed one last kiss to your forehead then opened the building door for you.
You walked inside in a daze, waving goodbye and drifting up the stairs like you weighed nothing.
You couldn’t remember getting changed into your pj’s, all you knew was that you were snuggled under your duvet setting an alarm for your date with Bucky in the morning.
You smiled, and suddenly your legs kicked and you let out a little squeal. You were going out with Bucky Barnes and he kissed you three times.
You feel asleep to the memory of one hot hand and one cold hand cupping your cheeks as he kissed you in the moonlight.
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eihoons · 11 months
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us without me ✮ n.rk
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ni-ki x reader , in which ni-ki realizes that he misses you only after rejecting you , fluff , angst kind of ( note: grr i love grentperez so much , also the song isn't really relevant to the story lmaoo i just thought it was nice )
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“I hate the silence now that you’re not here”
Ni-ki sighed after slowly remembering every detail about a certain memory that had been stuck in his head for a week now. He didn’t even think about facing the consequences of rejecting you, he even thought this was just another silly joke of yours. He basically just lost his best friend, like that, he thought. He even hated the fact that he laughed at you, and not possibly imagining the pain he caused you.
But, it was saturday, the day you’d both spend time with each other just being dumb teenagers and playing video games all day. But, this thought did not even cross your mind, in fact, you were crawled up in bed, also thinking about you possibly losing your friendship with Ni-ki.
You were silently sobbing to yourself not until you heard the doorbell ring from outside, and suddenly you remembered it was the special time of the week. You didn’t know how to approach Ni-ki after all those tears and thoughts — Heck, did he even think about how you felt considering how unserious he is at times?
“Am I livin’ in the past with all these questions, never asked?”
The doorbell rang once again, you composed yourself and tried to act usual despite the heavy pain in you.
As the door opened, Ni-ki wasn’t happy with what he saw, he could see through you, he is your best friend after all. You stepped aside to welcome him and gave him a soft smile. “Hey, y/n, so uh— I didn’t know what game to bring so I brought your favorite,” He smiled at you.
“Okay, sure,”
“To the spell we both cast, but sometimes, magic doesn’t last,”
You both couldn’t focus and you both definitely felt the thick atmosphere of awkwardness and silence around you, and this made Ni-ki feel very awful knowing that he made his one and only love and best friend lonely. So, he paused the game and turned towards you. You could feel his gaze at you so you turned to him too, confused.
“Look, y/n,” You had a feeling this had something to do with your confession, and you didn’t want to talk about it. “Ni-ki, if it’s about.. that, then, no, it’s alright. I’ve already accepted it, but, we’re still friends, right?” You chuckled.
"Y/n, that's not it. I– I do like you. I really really do." He said shyly, a blush forming on his cheeks. You stared at him with a blank expression, while he thought you hated him now for the sudden confession.
"Okay, look, I'm sorry I made you sad but–" His words were cut off when you placed a soft kiss on his cheek followed by a tight hug.
"Why do I fade into that heart of yours? 'Cause you still hold a spot in mine,"
Ni-ki was surprised by your sudden action, but soon returned the hug. "Thank you y/n, I love you way too much that I can't even stand seeing you so sad because it broke my heart when I did. I love you."
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© eihoons
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eyesofshinigami · 2 months
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Chaos Goblin
Rating: T
CW: None
Tags: Established relationship, language, humor, very slight mention of vomit
Prompt: For anon "Love is watching them do the stupidest things and falling harder for them every time"
WC: 808
Written for Day 27 of @steddielovemonth
“I can’t believe you’re letting them do this.”
It wasn’t Steve’s idea to let Eddie and the kids have a pie-eating contest in his backyard, but it sure was something he was letting happen. A year of dating Eddie had taught him that his boyfriend was an unstoppable force of personality, and sometimes that meant letting him do really, really dumb shit sometimes. He couldn’t even remember what argument had sparked this idea, but he knew better than to try and fight it. Sometimes you just have to learn to let things happen. 
Nancy, sitting on the other side of Robin, just shrugged. “I guess at least they’re outside? I’m still not sure how Eddie convinced you to bake that many pies for him.”
Steve cleared his throat. “I mean, I could tell you, but-”
“Oh god, seriously? You two are the worst!” Robin moaned, shoving Steve in the shoulder. 
He just shrugged. He was going to tell her that Eddie had offered to do dishes for the next month, but hinting at the epic sex marathon that also happened that night was enough to make him smile. “Nancy started it.”
“You don’t have to finish it,” Robin muttered under her breath, earning herself a tug on her hair from Nancy. “Anyway, pie-seducing aside, I can’t wait to watch when this goes sideways.”
“We have a hose, it’ll be fine.” And frankly, this didn’t even warrant a score on the grand scale of stupid shit Eddie and the kids had talked Steve into. He couldn’t help it that his boyfriend and their pack of feral children were very convincing, and also a little bit stupid. 
Like the time Dustin nearly blew the top off Eddie’s van when he accidentally set off the prototype for New Years Eve the two of them had concocted. Or when Eddie had given himself food poisoning by making some kind of science experiment sandwich with expired deli meat when he was high one night. Or when he nearly broke his arm trying to shoot a basketball and skateboard at the same time to settle an argument for Lucas and Max. Or-
Well. Anyway, Steve had learned pretty early on in their relationship to expect the unexpected, and to always have a first aid kit handy. 
“All right, you squirts, now it’s time to show you that I am the Master at Pie-Eating!” Eddie called out, sending a dirty wink in Steve’s direction. 
Max called back, “That metaphor doesn’t even make sense!”
Dustin and Mike both squinted at him from their spots at the folding tables they’d borrowed from the Byers’. Will, smart kid that he was, was sitting on the sidelines with the stopwatch, having declared himself the judge. Sensible, really. “You’re going down, Munson. You too, Wheeler,” Dustin said, rolling his shoulders back like he’s about to try for a Grand Slam in the seventh-inning stretch. 
“Fuck you, Dustin. You don’t even have any teeth, how are you going to chew?” Mike goaded, earning himself an offended squawk from Dustin. 
Will rolled his eyes at all three of them. “Are you guys ready? On my count, 1…2…3!” 
And they were off. It was truly a sight to behold; one grown man and two nearly grown teenagers scarfing down Steve’s homemade blackberry pies like they would never eat again. Lucas, Max, and El were cheering them on from the sidelines, also smart enough to not get involved in these kinds of shenanigans. 
Eddie finished first, holding the pie pan up and licking it clean before he dropped it on the table. He had blackberry smeared from his forehead to his jawline, matted in his hair, and staining the shirt he’d clearly stolen from Steve. Will called out the time, less than thirty seconds, and the other two started grousing about losing. “Ha! I told you! Eat shit, you little boogers!” 
His boyfriend was an absolute mess, looked completely ridiculous, and Steve wasn’t sure he'd ever loved him more. Eddie was a chaos goblin on a good day, but Steve wouldn’t have him any other way. Especially not when he bounded over to Steve like an overeager puppy, eyes shining and dripping with what remained of Steve’s immaculate pie. “Had fun?” he teased, swiping a bit of blackberry off Eddie’s chin and popping it in his own mouth.
“Absolutely. It’ll be worth the stomachache I can already feel coming on,” Eddie replied with a grin. 
“Don’t worry, I’ve got ginger ale and a warm blanket waiting for you.” Steve pulled Eddie in for a kiss, enjoying the taste of blackberries. 
He lost himself in it, ignoring the pitiful sounds of Dustin and Mike groaning about being too-full, or the screech Robin let out when Mike almost puked on her shoes. 
Eddie was a whirlwind of chaos, and Steve wouldn’t have him any other way.
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