#that's just SUCH a weird though process to have. to see someone flirt with someone else fairly regularly and want to see them as father-son | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stevie-petey · 5 months

Text

episode two: the mall rats

Steve lazily drapes an arm over you, which Dustin narrows his eyes at. “Yeah, I mean. Sure. It’s not really a good idea for me, though. I gotta keep in shape for the ladies.” “Ugh,” you scoff in disgust at Steve’s words and shrug his arm off of you before scooting away from him. Sometimes you forget how much of an idiot he can be. That he used to wear the crown of King Steve. You turn slightly away from him and finish eating your ice cream, annoyed and slightly hurt, though you know you have no right to be. It’s not like you’re with Steve, anyways.

Summary: dreams are weird, billy is a hitchhiker, and hopper flirts with joyce in front of you (youre not sure which is scarier), somehow robin knows russian and has genius ears, you get caught in an awkward breakup showdown, and you shamefully are shocked when you discover that hawkins is anything but normal. you would think youd be a pro at this already, but at least steve is hot and really good at sneaking through windows.

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, allusions to violence, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 13.2k

Before you swing in: hello !!! new chapter, i am so sorry for the wait :/ the end of the semester has been killer and ive been super busy with my lab job (i present at a conference friday ... pray for me). heres chapter 2, she somehow ended up being 13k words but lets ignore that for my own sanity !

There are dandelions all around you.

Their puffs of white surround you as the seeds dance in the air and settle atop of your head and tickle your cheek. They’re soft, reminiscent of the snow that encases you every winter in Hawkins and the days you used to chase Jonathan around in his backyard.

You’re barefoot in a field that you can’t quite place. The grass below you skims against your ankles as the dandelion seeds float towards the tops of the green. It’s a familiar landscape, something tells you that you’ve been here before, and the thought is almost reassuring to you.

The sun is warm against you and there’s someone in the distance. You open your mouth to call out to them, they feel as familiar as the landscape before you does, but when you try to speak, the dandelion seeds begin to swarm into your mouth. The puffs of white seem to turn into daggers in your throat as they cut your tongue and slice inside you as you struggle to breathe.

You try to scream, but nothing comes out. The dandelions now draw blood as they continue their malicious attack on you. You claw at your mouth and cower in the field, trying to flee from what’s attacking you, but the dandelions only follow as you try to call after the figure you saw in the distance.

Stumbling blindly through the grass, panic stricken and longing for the person who had once been at the top of the hill, your foot catches on a root and suddenly you’re falling. This time, you do scream, and the dandelion seeds spill from your mouth as you fall into an endless abyss.

“Y/N!” Your eyes fly open and your body shoots from your bed; you almost head butt Dustin in the process. He flinches back, startled by your violent reaction, and he puts his hands up in surrender and backs away. “Geesh, I was just trying to wake you up.”

It takes you a few moments to process that you are, in fact, awake. Your heartbeat is still pounding rapidly in your throat. You can still feel the dandelion seeds on your tongue and the millions of little cuts they left behind.

Dustin stares at you with slight concern in his eyes and you clear your throat, trying to rid the memory of your dream. That’s all it was. A dream.

Clearing your throat again, you try to calm yourself down. “Why are you in my room?”

“Like I said, I was trying to wake you up.” Your brother says as if you’re an idiot.

“But why?”

“Did you bang your head or something last night?” He gives you an odd look and you glare at him. “Cerebro caught a Russian code, remember? You promised we’d see Steve today to talk about it!”

You rub your eyes, exhausted. It’s taking longer than usual for your mind to wake up and process everything. “I know, I know… What time is it?”

“Eight, now get up and go get pretty for Steve so we can discuss how to become American heroes.” Dustin crosses his arms, silently daring you to argue.

“There was so much wrong with that sentence,” you groan, but reluctantly throw your blankets off of you and start pulling out random shorts and a t-shirt to wear. “You’re lucky it’s the weekend and I don’t work today.”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Dustin mocks you, tossing you a white t-shirt and removing the red one from your hands. “Steve likes you in white, now hurry up.”

Your mouth drops in shock, but your brother simply rolls his eyes at you and leaves your room so that you can get dressed.

“How does he even know that?” You whisper to yourself, now alone in your room.

–

Dustin bikes ahead of you as you make your way to Joyce’s store in Downtown Hawkins. He had complained when you told him that you needed to make a pitstop there before going to the mall.

“I haven’t seen Steve in a month!”

“And Mrs. Byers is close to losing her job at Melvald’s, so you can wait the extra five minute detour it takes to deliver her muffins to cheer her up.”

Your brother had tried to argue some more, but you simply shoved a fresh baked muffin in his mouth and began to bike away.

Now, as the two of you head towards Downtown, the early morning air fills your lungs and slowly wakes you up. It’s quiet, Hawkins isn’t quite awake yet in the early hour. Only the bees buzzing past your ear seem to be lively.

You watch Dustin up ahead and briefly marvel at how much bigger he seems to have gotten in the month he was away at camp. He looks older, more mature, no longer the baby brother your mom brought home fourteen years ago.

As you’re lost in your reminiscence, you almost miss the figure that stumbles along the side of the road.

“Dustin!” You yell at the boy, weary of whoever is up ahead. “Stop!”

He hears the fear in your voice and screeches his bike to a halt. Turning around, he checks to make sure you’re okay. “Did something happen?”

You stop next to him and discreetly point at the figure a few yards away. It seems to be a boy, maybe a teen your age, but he’s walking as if he’s in immense pain. “You see that?”

“Yeah,” Dustin squints and also seems unnerved by the person’s appearance. “Think it’s anything dangerous?”

“I don’t know…” Something feels familiar about the person. Their hair, the way it’s styled, reminds you of someone. You squint as well, your eyes catch on the person’s leather jacket and the expensive brand, there’s a faint outline of cigarettes in the pocket, and the sight fills your nose with the smoke that once choked you last winter. “I think it’s Billy.”

“Why is he walking on the side of the road?” Dustin makes a face. “I know he has a car, the bastard almost ran me and the party over on Halloween.”

You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and try to understand why you feel this tug within you to get closer to the teen. Billy is cruel, he is horrible, and the bruises he left on your neck took weeks to fully fade away. Yet there’s a concern within you as you watch him stumble, as if in some daze, and it's this worry that solidifies your decision. “Stay here.”

“What–” Dustin turns and sees that you’ve gotten back on your bike and are now pedaling towards Billy. “Y/N! Are you insane?”

“Stay here!” You order, not really understanding why you’re doing this either. “Just… Wait for my signal!”

Dustin curses, not at all liking this plan, but he listens. He tightens his grip on his bike’s handlebar and makes sure you never leave his line of sight in case you need him for backup.

As you approach Billy, you make sure to circle widely around him so that he sees you coming, before finally facing in front of him. You brake a few feet away from him, incredibly nervous for how he may react. You haven’t spoken to him since last winter, he had kept his promise to Max to leave you alone.

Billy barely seems to register that you’re in front of him. He stops as if he’s in a trance and blinks slowly at you. You notice the cut on his forehead, how there’s still fresh blood dripping from it, and something within you wants to tend to the wound. Then you notice the grime that covers his face and his jacket, and you begin to worry even more.

As you’re eying his disheveled appearance, Billy opens his mouth, and the action looks as if it takes all the energy within him to do so. “S–sweetheart?”

“Are you okay?” You ignore the nickname he gave you that makes your skin crawl. You’re more worried about his appearance. He’s sweating like crazy, almost as if he’s on drugs, and he’s paler than normal. His California tan is gone, his eyes are glazed over, he looks as if he isn’t really here with you right now.

It scares you. You’ve never seen him like this.

“‘M fine,” Billy slurs. He seems… off. More drawn into himself now, less sure of himself. Scared, even. It’s a strange sight to see: Billy Hargrove, alone and frightened, in the early morning of June. “I… I’m fine.”

His slurred words aren’t reassuring, and a part of you wants to offer him a ride on your bike. You assume he’s heading to the local pool to lifeguard, you know it’s where he spends most of his days, but you have Dustin with you and you’re still nervous around Billy.

The wounds he gave you may have healed, but some nights, when the nightmares are really bad, you wake up to his hands around your throat.

It feels wrong just leaving Billy like this, though. He’s still human, Max has slowly opened up to you about her abusive stepdad and the way he punches her brother. You know that Billy’s actions come from his hurt, but you don’t think you’re ready yet to forgive him. Not now, at least.

Reluctantly, you sigh and wave your hand to indicate to Dustin that he’s fine to start biking over. Billy doesn’t seem like a threat right now in his current state. When you see your brother start to pedal closer, you look back at Billy. “Listen, I know we aren’t… friends.”

Billy stares blankly at you, and you really hope that he can understand what you’re saying right now.

“But if you need anyone to talk to, about anything, come find me, okay?” You tell him, hesitantly placing a hand on his arm as you speak. However, when your skin makes contact with his, you flinch at how cold he is.

Before you can say anything else, Dustin finally catches up and brakes softly next to you. He looks nervously between you and Billy. “So… Uh. Ready to go, Y/N?”

“Yeah…” You pull away from Billy, your fingers almost numb from his cold skin, and spare him one last glance as you start to bike away. “Remember what I said, okay?”

Billy doesn’t say anything.

You and Dustin leave him stranded on the side of the road.

Neither one of you talk about this.

–

As usual, Downtown Hawkins is deserted when you and Dustin arrive at Melvald’s. The only two cars parked in front of the rundown store belong to Joyce and Hopper.

You hop off your bike and park it in the bike rack before carefully untying the container of muffins from the back. Dustin is slumped on top of his bike, silently complaining, and you wave a stern finger at him. “Wait here, okay? This will only take five minutes, I promise.”

“I’m telling Steve that you’re cheating on him with Mrs. Byers.”

“Not cheating if we aren’t together,” you quip, before opening the door to the store.

When you step inside the store, you’re greeted with Hopper obnoxiously yelling and jumping around as Joyce laughs and claps for him. Curious, you carefully side step the grown man and make your way over to the woman.

“Y/N!” Joyce lights up even more when she sees you, and then lets out a small cheer when she sees that you’re holding one of your signature baked goods containers. “Are those for me?”

“Always, Mrs. Byers.” You grin at her and set the container down. “They’re the muffins you really liked last week, thought I’d bake a special batch just for you.”

Hopper now joins you at the store’s counter in front of Joyce. He’s practically vibrating with his excited energy, so much so that he even smiles at you and claps a hand behind your back. “Kid, it’s like you knew we’d be celebrating a monumental occasion today.”

“What, did Jonathan finally wash his bedsheets?”

Joyce shakes her head and Hopper claps again, now grasping your shoulders and shakes you around. “No, even better! I got Mike out of my house!”

Through Joyce, you had learned all about Hopper’s utter disdain of Mike’s relationship with El. He has spent every day at their cabin since getting together, and even you have had to pry the girl away from Mike a few times to hang out with her. It’s hard bonding with El when Mike is breathing down your neck.

You’re all for young love, you think they’re adorable together, but christ. You understand Hopper’s frustration.

“Actually,” you’re still being shaken by the man. “That does sound better. How’d ya do it?”

Hearing your question, Hopper thankfully stops shaking your shoulders and now happily points at Joyce. “It was all her. I’m the puppet, she’s the master. Joyce gave me a brilliant script to say to the kid.”

“So you remembered everything?” Joyce asks, now unwrapping one of your muffins with glee.

“Yeah… well,” Hopper pauses. “I mean, I had to improvise a little bit, you know?”

You wince. “Oh, that’s never good.”

He glares at you but continues to explain. “It turns out that getting to Mike was the key.”

His words only make you wince again, and you look at Joyce. She meets your eye and the two of you silently agree that something doesn’t sound right here. She questions Hopper further. “And you didn’t yell at him?”

Hopper hesitates, which you expected. “I’ll… tell you everything over dinner.”

“Okay!” You step in between the adults and wave your arms out, preventing whatever else is about to be said. “I’m still here, let’s remember that.”

The chief glares at you again and narrows his eyes. “You’re right, you are still here. Why are you still here?”

“Because Mrs. Byers loves me and I baked her delicious muffins.” You deadpan, which Joyce chuckles at. “And while I’m sure whatever she told you to say to Mike was lovely, I have my doubts that you actually listened.”

“She’s got a point, Hop.” Joyce voices.

Hopper sighs at you both. “Okay, maybe I said some things, haven’t told El the whole truth, but what else was I supposed to do?”

“Not lie to kids?” Crossing your arms, you make a face at the man.

“Easy for you to say, little miss Hawkins’ sweetheart.” Hopper scoffs at you. “Got any better advice?”

You roll your eyes at his words. You understand that the man is still grappling with being a father again, he’s never been one to handle feelings any better, so you spare him some pity and try to be honest with him, say what he needs to hear. “Look, all I’m saying is that the best thing my deadbeat father ever did was teach me kindness, and it broke my heart when he was dishonest in the end. Just, don’t be that way with El, okay?”

Hopper is quiet as your words hang in the air.

Joyce is quiet as well, looking between you and the chief with a fondness in her eyes. It’s not often she sees someone render Hopper speechless, and she knows that it’s one of the many things she loves the most about your relationship with him. Though she would never tell you this, she thinks that Hopper secretly has his own fondness for you as well.

When the silence stretches for an uncomfortably long amount of time, you clear your throat and change the subject. “Well! This was fun, happy we did this.”

Hopper snorts, relieved you’re moving on as well. “Get lost, kid.”

“Gladly.” You turn back to Joyce and press a swift kiss to her cheek. “I’ll see you later, Mrs. Byers!”

Joyce says goodbye as well, and when you’ve left the store, she faces Hopper with a slight smirk. “She’s a good kid, Hop.”

“She is,” he agrees, looking down at his shoes. He will never admit this to anyone else, but to Joyce he knows his words are safe. “She’s the best of ‘em.”

–

When you finally get to the mall, Dustin basically dumps his bike in a spot next to a disgruntled older couple and runs before you can even slow down. He’s so lost in his excitement to see Steve as he runs towards Scoops and leaves you to deal with his bike and the couple alone, which you groan at.

“He acts like it’s been a year,” you grumble, finally hopping off your own bike to grab Dustin’s and secure them both to a nearby rack. After mumbling a quick apology to the couple your brother practically threw a bike at, you run after him inside.

By the time you catch up, Dustin has just entered Scoops and is talking to Robin. You approach, curious to see how this event will unfold. Robin hasn’t met your brother yet, and you have a feeling that his abrasive nature will either make her his biggest fan or absolutely hate him.

It’s the Henderson charm, really.

“I’m Dustin,” your brother introduces himself as you come to stand next to him. When he notices your arrival, he motions towards you and winks at Robin. “I’m sure Y/N has told you all about me.”

Robin raises her eyebrows at the kid, and you try to cover a giggle with a cough. “I’m Robin. I’m sure Y/N has told you a lot about me.”

“I probably have,” shrug, knowing you always talk about the people you love. When Robin and Dustin both look at you with confused faces, you quickly clarify, “I’ve talked about you both, I mean.”

“Can we cut the chit chat?” Dustin asks, now annoyed by how long this conversation is taking. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Robin, but uh. Is he here?”

“Is who here?” Robin looks over at you for help, but before you can prepare her for the inevitable storm of Steve’s bizarre and endearing friendship with Dustin, the older teen’s body comes crashing through the backdoor and his sneakers squeak loudly against the tile.

“Hendersons!” Steve raises his arms in the air in greeting, an ecstatic smile on his face when he sees both you and Dustin standing in Scoops Ahoy. You and your brother start to laugh as Steve now dances around, cheering and gleeful. “You’re both here! Little Henderson is back!”

“I’m back!” Dustin cheers. “And you got the job!”

Steve is beaming and his smile is probably one of the happiest you’ve seen cross his pretty face. He had complained about missing Dustin the entire month he had been gone, moaning and groaning about how he was bored at your house now that he didn’t have Dustin to shoo away.

“I got the job!” Steve mimes playing the trumpet before he starts his intricate and dumb handshake with Dustin.

It’s a complicated process, with fist bumps and pretend lightsaber death. They had come up with it during a particularly boring snow day at your house. You watched as they thought up the handshake while you made cocoa for everyone, heart swelling as Steve was so patient with your brother and encouraged his nerdy little habits.

It had taken them almost the entire day to create what they deemed “the perfect handshake”, and as they go through it once more in Scoops Ahoy, you feel the same swelling in your chest as you did the very first time you saw them come up with the handshake.

While you gaze fondly at Dustin and Steve, Robin stands next to you and watches in horror. As Steve pretends to spew his guts everywhere, the girl leans over to you and says, “Is this what you deal with every day?”

“Yeah,” you can’t help but smile softly at the two boys. You missed seeing them together, more than you thought you had.

Robin sees the dreamy look in your eyes as you stare at Steve and she gags. Unhappy with how this day is looking, she turns to him. “How many children are you friends with?”

Steve’s smile falls and he sighs in defeat. Wordlessly he points at Robin as he looks at Dustin and raises his eyebrows in an exasperated manner. He’s had to deal with Robin’s teasing all summer, and Dustin seems to catch onto what he’s trying to tell him, so he quickly changes the subject. “Sorry we got here so late, man. Y/N insisted on gossiping with Mrs. Byers before coming here.”

“I spoke with her for five minutes.” You roll your eyes at him.

“Yeah, five minutes too long.”

“Your breath reeks.”

“You have a pimple on your chin.”

You gasp and quickly cover your face. “I do not–”

“This is fascinating,” Robin whispers as she looks between you and Dustin. “It’s like there’s two Y/Ns.”

Steve, having heard Robin, laughs. His smile had returned to his face as he watched you interact with your brother. “They’re reunited for one day and are already at each other’s throats.”

“Got a month of insults to catch up on,” you flick Steve, who winces and rubs his nose, offended.

Dustin suddenly straightens up. “Speaking of catching up…” He looks at you and tries to subtly motion over at Steve, mouthing “Russians!”, and being everything but discrete.

Steve frowns, unsure what’s happening, but you’re too busy worrying about revealing anything to Robin; she’s scarily good at reading people. Looking wearily at her, you clear your throat and tug at Dustin’s shirt. “C’mon, why don’t we get some ice cream and tell Steve about what you built at camp?”

Again Steve frowns. He had been hoping to share a sundae with you, not talk about boring science stuff with your brother. “Why do I wanna hear about some weird nerd tech–”

“Because you promised me free ice cream last night, when we called.” You interrupt, silently pleading with him to catch onto what you’re saying. “Remember?”

Something shifts within Steve’s eyes and his carefree expression now darkens. He remembers the fear in your voice last night over the phone, how you had asked him to tell you stories to fall asleep to. Clearing his throat, Steve nods and plays along. “Oh, how could I forget? Take Dustin to your booth and I’ll whip up some sundaes.”

You smile at him, thankful as always for how attuned to you he is, before you say a quick goodbye to Robin and tug your brother over to where you normally sit. Once you’re sure Robin isn’t listening, you yank at the boy. “Real subtle back there, doofus.”

“Oh, like Robin would know what Russians could mean.” Dustin grumbles as he slides into your designated booth. His hand catches on something in the seat and he tugs at it, pulling out an old Captain America comic. Holding it up, he narrows his eyes at you. “You really made a home here, huh?”

“Sure did,” you prop your feet up and dig out the Spider-Man comic you had been reading a few days ago. “The ice cream is surprisingly good here.”

“Yeah, I’m sure the ice cream is the reason you’re always here.” Dustin doesn’t even want to imagine how many hours you’ve spent in this cheesy ice cream parlor ogling over Steve. Maybe it’s a good thing he was gone most of the summer.

You flip to the last page you left off on and ignore Dustin’s insinuation. “Hey, free ice cream is free ice cream.”

“Can’t argue with you there.” Steve arrives and places down two giant sundaes onto the table. He slides next to you into the booth with a grand flourish. “Tada!”

Dustin wastes no time digging into his ice cream, making obnoxious noises as he shoves the food into his mouth. You cringe, disgusted that you’re related to him, but Steve kisses your cheek when the kid isn’t looking, and you can’t help but smile. Sneaking your own kiss to his cheek, you thank him. “You’re getting really good at whipping up sundaes, Steve.”

He preens at your praise. “It’s all in the forearms, ya know?” He makes a show out of rolling up his sleeves to show off his arms, which you giggle at with a slight flush on your face. Despite working inside all day, Steve has a nice sun kissed tan, which compliments how long his hair has gotten this summer.

Between his short Scoops Ahoy shorts and his hair streaked with sunlight, summer looks good on Steve.

In between bites of his ice cream, Dustin lifts his head up. “Quit talking about Steve’s arms and flirting in front of me, it’s gross.”

You fling a banana peel at him. “You’re the one too busy devouring his food to talk about anything else.”

“So you admit you’re flirting with me.” Steve teases, winking at you.

Dustin covers his eyes in disgust, forgetting about his ice cream entirely. “Seriously, stop it! You’re my sister, how would you feel if I flirted with Suzie in front of you?”

“I would–” You try to think of a response, but ultimately you deflate, unable to come up with anything. Frustratingly, you realize that the kid has a point; you’d be incredibly grossed out as well. “I would hate it.” You sigh, accepting defeat.

“Who’s Suzie?” Steve asks.

“Dustin’s girlfriend.” You say, popping a cherry into your mouth as you eagerly await the teen’s reaction to the girlfriend news.

As expected, Steve’s jaw drops and turns to your brother. No way the little twerp got a girlfriend before him this summer. “Girlfriend? Since when?”

“Met her at camp,” Dustin smirks at him, proud he’s surprised Steve. “She’s super hot, too. Hotter than Phoebe Cates.”

You roll your eyes at his insistence of referencing Suzie’s appearance, but Steve seems interested, although in disbelief as well. “No, no way. Hotter than Phoebe Cates? No.”

“Why is Phoebe Cates the gold standard?” You ask, unsure when she became everyone’s dream woman. All things considered, she’s incredibly attractive, but it’s weird that every boy you’ve spoken to about this universally finds her attractive. Steve finds her attractive, which you’re choosing not to think about because you don’t look anything like her.

Steve hears the slight bitterness in your tone and shuffles closer to you in the booth. Meanwhile, Dustin takes another bite out of his sundae and nods at him. “Mhm, she’s brilliant, too. She doesn’t even care that my real pearls are still coming in.”

“That’s great, Dustin!” You say, happy that your brother has found a girl who accepts him as he is. It’s sweet, really.

“I know, right?” He sits up straighter in the booth and smiles even wider. “She says kissing is better without teeth.”

You and Steve share a horrified look. Neither of you can believe what you’ve just heard, and you think a part of you died inside. Suddenly, the delicious sundae you’d been eating now turns to cement in your stomach at the thought of your little brother kissing a girl who enjoys his lack of teeth. “Oh, that’s… Yeah.”

“Wow!” Steve tries to mask his own horror and disgust, leaning even closer to you now to try and ground you as well. “Yeah, that’s… That’s great! Proud of you, man. That’s–That’s kinda romantic?”

Dustin basks in Steve’s praise and your disgust slowly melts away. Your brother genuinely seems happy to be with Suzie and even happier to tell Steve about it all. He won’t admit it, but you know he idolizes the teen. Steve’s word is like an oath to him, not even you have this much influence over the boy. If it were anyone else, you’d be offended and hurt, but seeing Steve flash Dustin a wink, you couldn’t have chosen anyone better for your brother to admire.

“So do you really just get to eat as much of this as you want?” Dustin motions towards his half-eaten sundae before turning to you. “How much ice cream have you had this summer?”

“A lot,” you shrug, taking another bite of your own sundae.

Steve lazily drapes an arm over you, which Dustin narrows his eyes at. “Yeah, I mean. Sure. It’s not really a good idea for me, though. I gotta keep in shape for the ladies.”

“Ugh,” you scoff in disgust at Steve’s words and shrug his arm off of you before scooting away from him. Sometimes you forget how much of an idiot he can be. That he used to wear the crown of King Steve. You turn slightly away from him and finish eating your ice cream, annoyed and slightly hurt, though you know you have no right to be.

It’s not like you’re with Steve, anyways.

Robin, from across the parlor, sees your sudden annoyance at Steve and calls out to him, “Yeah, and how’s that working out for you?”

“Ignore her,” Steve groans, not having the energy to deal with Robin’s quips and your anger being directed at him. He turns to you and lowers his voice. “I was kidding, Y/N. You know that–”

“Robin seems cool,” Dustin interrupts, not at all wanting to witness a lover’s feud between you and Steve. He left you two alone for a month, he thought he’d come back to you guys being an old married couple. Instead, he still has to suffer through your weird in between chaos.

You jump at the chance to gush about Robin, all while avoiding Steve’s pleading eyes. “She’s amazing. Genuinely one of the coolest people I know.”

“She’s not.” Steve corrects you, shaking his head. You roll your eyes at him and flick his ear, but as your hand lowers, he catches it with his and intertwines your fingers with a practiced ease. The action makes you blush and look away, still not ready to forgive him just yet. Steve sees the blush and feels your fingers tighten around his and he feels as if he can breathe again. There’s hope, at least. “So, where are the other knuckleheads?”

Dustin sighs. “They ditched me yesterday.”

“No,” Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Y/N, did they really?”

“They… Kinda did.” You wince, absentmindedly placing your other hand on top of the one Steve is holding. He smiles softly at the action, momentarily forgetting about what you've just told him.

“My first day back! Can you believe that shit?” Dustin’s hurt from last night returns, which only makes you feel worse.

Steve leans forward now, invested and equally as offended as the boy. “Seriously?”

“I swear to god,” Dustin pauses to take another bite of ice cream. “They’re gonna regret it, though, big time, when they don’t get to share in my glory.”

You drop your head onto the table and groan. “Is this really how you’re going to segue into the Russian thing?”

“You’re my sister. Why would you expect anything less of me?”

“Touche.” You lift your head back up and continue eating your ice cream. It’s the only thing keeping you going right now. Steve has learned how to make your sundaes perfect, adding the peach ice cream you adore with just the right amount of whipped cream.

Meanwhile, Steve has a confused look on his face as he looks between you and Dustin. “Glory? Russians? Did I miss something?”

Dustin smiles mischievously and lowers his voice as he slides closer to the teen. You roll your eyes at his antics, knowing that the conversation that’s about to unfold will only give you another headache. You missed Steve and Dustin being together, but you didn’t miss the way they seemed to double in stupidity when together.

Looking around to make sure he won’t be heard, Dustin begins to explain. “So, last night, as Y/N and I were trying to get in contact with Suzie…” He pauses, sees that Scoops Ahoy is now filling with more customers, and lowers his voice even more to an almost inaudible whisper and covers his mouth.

You and Steve both lean forward, unable to hear him. The teen asks Dustin to repeat himself while you sit there with slight amazement. You know what Dustin is trying to say, you’re more just surprised the kid can be so quiet. It’s a goddamn miracle, honestly.

Dustin inhales deeply and again tries to discreetly inform Steve of the Russian code, but his whispers are still too low to hear. Taking a final bite of your ice cream, you click your tongue at your brother. “You’re really killing it there, buddy.”

“Dude, just speak louder.” Steve’s curious interest is now more of an annoyance.

“I intercepted a secret Russian communication!” Dustin all but shouts, which causes you to practically throw yourself over the table to cover his mouth.

“Jesus fuck!” You look around and see everyone’s eyes on you, and with your hand still clamped firmly over your brother’s mouth, you clear your throat and laugh nervously. “I mean, haha. Pardon me.” The customers give you a weird look but turn away, though Robin continues to stare at you.

Steve gently removes your hand from Dustin’s mouth and once again intertwines his fingers with yours. “Jeez, okay. Yeah. That’s what I thought you said.”

“Did you have to yell?” You sneer at Dustin, still looking around nervously to make sure no one is paying too much attention to the three of you. While Hawkin’s Lab was overrun by Demodogs and every scientist within it died, you’re still terrified that they still have allies watching your every move.

Not that you think the Lab is responsible for Russians, but… Better safe than sorry.

Dustin rolls his eyes at you. “Your boyfriend is the one who couldn’t hear me.”

You’re about to correct him when Steve waves the boy off and goes back to the main topic. “What does any of that mean, though? The Russian code and whatever.”

“It means that we can never catch a break–”

“It means, Steve,” Dustin sends you a dirty look. “That we could be heroes. True American heroes.”

Steve seems into the idea and you want to scream. You hate the way Dustin is explaining all of this. “This could mean danger, guys.”

Dustin rolls his eyes at you and Steve smiles wearily. “I don’t know, Y/N. It doesn’t seem so bad, ya know? We’ve fought Demodogs, how bad could some Russians be?”

You cross your arms and narrow your eyes. “The Demodogs were created by shifty government facilities. Why are we assuming Russia doesn’t have their own?”

“But… American heroes.” Steve looks heartbreakingly pathetic as he says this, and you realize now that his fixation on being seen as some hero stems from the hurt he still feels over his father. He hadn’t turned into who had expected to become, something that you know his father reminds him of every time he comes back from some business trip. You wish you could convince Steve that he’s more than what his father could ever expect him to be, but you know he wouldn’t listen.

With Steve’s pleading eyes looking at you, lost and hopeless, you can’t argue with him. Sighing, you accept that this is something he has to take part in, if only to rebuild his crumbling confidence. “Tell him what you’re thinking, Dustin.”

“Gladly.” Your brother wastes no time diving in, once more eager and excited to have the attention on him, and it’s only now that you realize he’s doing this for the same reason Steve is: they both feel abandoned and hurt. “We need your help.”

“With what?”

Dustin digs through his backpack and takes out the Russian dictionary he made you steal from work. He holds it up and shows it to Steve. “Translation.”

Steve’s eyes widen and he grabs the book to inspect it. There’s a new spark in his eyes, one that died the day his father told him he wouldn’t attend his graduation. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” you exhale and slump in your seat. There’s no going back now. “I just want you both to know that I hate this plan and your excitement over it, but if I don’t help then you guys will somehow end up in a Russian gulag, and that would just be on me.”

Steve shares a look with Dustin, whose sigh reflects your own. “Glad you have faith in us, Y/N.”

–

It’s Steve's idea to work on the translation in the backroom of Scoops Ahoy, and neither you or Dustin argue. Technically, he’s the only one who has any real responsibilities today with work and all, so it makes sense to stay at Scoops and hide out there.

Dustin sits at the table next to you as he replays the tape recording over and over again. Steve paces the room and eats a banana, claiming he needed “brain food” to focus on the complex Russian language. You sit with your head in your hands, trying desperately to hold onto the bizarre language that floats around the room.

After his tenth time replaying the code, Dustin pauses the recording and looks at you and Steve. “So, what do you guys think?”

“It sounded familiar.” Steve shoves a piece of banana into his mouth. You cringe at the obscene amount of food he tries to chew at once. Seeing your disgust, Steve waves the banana in your face and asks with a mouthful of food, “Wan sum?”

“It’s like you want me to hate you today,” you slap the banana away, which he chuckles at.

Dustin gets both of your attention again with slight annoyance. He didn’t miss the weird flirting between the two of you at all. “Guys, focus. What do you mean the recording sounds familiar?”

“The music,” Steve still speaks with his mouth full. “The music right there at the end.”

“Why are you listening to the music, Steve?” Dustin exclaims, exasperated.

As your brother berates Steve for his lack of Russian translating, you sit up in your seat processing what he’s just previously said. While you hadn’t thought much of it before, now that Steve has pointed it out, the music does sound familiar. You swear you’ve heard it somewhere before, but you can’t remember where or when. It’s a hazy memory, distant in your mind, yet right in front of you. It’s incredibly frustrating.

“I think Steve is onto something,” you say, but the two boys are too busy fighting to hear you.

“I’m trying to listen to the Russian but there’s music–”

Suddenly the back door swings open and Robin appears. She looks agitated after having to man the cash register all by herself while Steve hides out in the breakroom. “Alright, babysitting time is over. You need to get in there.” When she sees that you’ve erased her whiteboard and replaced her “you suck” columns with the Russian alphabet, her agitation only increases. “Hey, my board! That was important data, shitbirds.”

You get up from the table and walk up to the girl, feeling bad. While you aren’t sure what exactly her “you suck” column and tallies were for, it had been her creation that you had erased without thinking to ask. Plus, you really don’t want her seeing the Russian dictionary on the table. “I’m sorry, Robin–”

“Not you, Y/N. You’re not a shitbird,” she points over to Steve and Dustin. “Those two are shitbirds.”

“I guarantee you, what we’re doing is way more important than your data.” Dustin interjects, a smug look on his face that makes you want to scream. He isn’t at all helping the situation.

Robin begins to walk over to the boys and you reluctantly follow. “Yeah? And how do you know these Russians are up to no good anyways?”

Dustin’s jaw drops and Steve almost chokes on his banana. Seeing their stunned reactions of Robin having figured out what you’ve been doing, you sigh in disappointment. They’re such idiots sometimes. They wrote Russian on the whiteboard, out in the open, and have been playing the recording out loud, full volume, on repeat.

Of course Robin caught onto what you were doing.

Which only makes your nervous body tense up even more. You hate that you have to lie to her, you’ve become really close with her during your visits to Scoops, but you don’t want to drag her into anything dangerous. You’re not sure what exactly any of this Russian code means, but Robin has been nothing but kind to you this summer, you truly care about her, and it would kill you if something were to happen because of you.

So, despite knowing how smart Robin is, you try to think of a cover story. “We were just interested in the language. Ya know, a summer hobby.”

“I can hear everything, Y/N.” Robin sees right through your lies. “Your idiotic brother and boyfriend are both extremely loud.”

“Steve isn’t my boyfriend–”

“You three think you have evil Russians plotting against our country, on tape and you’re trying to translate, but haven’t figured out a word because you didn’t realize Russians use an entirely different alphabet than we do.”

You, Steve, and Dustin all look at one another in varying degrees of awe and despair.

Robin, seeing your stunned faces, smiles. “Sound about right?”

“How could you not know about the Russian alphabet, Y/N?” Dustin angrily whispers at you as if somehow it’s your responsibility to know the ins-and-outs of the language.

“Why would I–you know what, no.” You ignore your brother and turn to Robin, trying to alleviate the situation and prevent her from finding out anything else. She’s too fucking smart, it’s both admirable and aggravating. “Look, whatever you think you heard–”

Suddenly Robin lunges for the Russian dictionary on the table, but Steve’s quick reflexes enable him to grab the book before she can. “Woah! What do you think you’re doing?”

“I wanna hear it.” She juts her chin out in defiance, though you see the slightly hurt expression she tries to mask. She hates that you’re purposely excluding her and taking Steve’s side in this.

You wish you could tell her the truth.

“Why?” You ask in unison alongside Steve and Dustin.

“Because maybe I can help. I’m fluent in four languages, ya know.”

Dustin perks up, now more open to the idea of Robin’s involvement. “Russian?”

“Ou-yay are-yay umb-day.”

Steve and Dustin gasp, believing that they’ve just heard Robin say something in Russian, but you know better. One summer, when the party had been especially nosy and insisted on following you and Jonathan around, the two of you had learned pig latin in order to communicate without the twerps eavesdropping.

Learning against the table, you smirk at Robin. “Osay ouyay owknay igpay atinlay.”

“Holy shit!” Dustin gasps and Steve almost falls over with how quickly he looks at you in shock. Both boys stare at you in awe and you almost feel bad for their tiny little brains.

Robin can’t help but smile at you, you somehow always manage to surprise her. “Impressive, Y/N. Didn’t think you knew pig latin either.”

“That was pig latin?” Steve scrunches his face and hits your brother with his banana peel. “Idiot.”

“Steve, please don’t hit my brother with banana peels,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. It’s only noon and you’re already exhausted from today’s events. “But yes, that was pig latin.”

Dustin shoves Steve away from him and focuses on you again. “When did you learn pig latin?”

“The summer you and the party decided to stalk me and Jonathan.” You shrug, though you smile fondly at the memory. It had been a good summer, just the two of you holed up in your room as you quizzed each other on the bizarre language.

Steve, seeing your fondness at the memory, frowns. He doesn’t like the uncomfortable heat that he feels ignite within his stomach at the thought of you still being so fond over Jonathan. He trusts you, he trusts what you have, but he will never feel equal to him.

Robin notices Steve’s brewing insecurity and quickly changes the subject. She doesn’t have time for the usual hormonal drama between the two of you. All she wants right now is to decipher the Russian so that she can catch a break from Erica and her demanding need to try every free sample ever. “Back to the main point: I can speak Spanish and French and Italian, and I’ve been in band for twelve years. My ears are little geniuses, trust me.”

You bite your lip. Truthfully, Robin has the highest chance of unraveling whatever the hell is in the recording. You’re horrible with languages, high school Spanish had nearly killed you, and Steve and Dustin stand no better chance. “Robin…”

“Come on,” she begs. “It’s Steve's turn to sling ice cream and my turn to translate.”

Steve and Dustin turn to you, unanimously agreeing that you’re the leader in this situation; whatever call you make, they’ll listen. Robin sees the conflict on your face and tries one last time. “I don’t even want credit. I’m just bored and wanna hang out with you.”

Your head spins. Robin’s pleading eyes are hard to fight against and you realize that she already knows more than you’d want her to; she’s already a part of it all, whether you like it or not. Sighing, you give in. “Fine, but only if you promise not to ask any questions about whatever we may find.”

“What would I even question?” She asks, unsure why your tone is more foreboding than accepting.

You share a look with Steve and Dustin. The three of you know just how quickly something simple can spiral into chaos in Hawkins. “Just… promise me, okay?”

Robin extends her hand, just happy to finally have something better to do. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

After you shake her hand, she tosses her ice cream scoop to Steve and he hands her the Russian dictionary. Seeing the exchange sends a slight shiver down your spine. You don’t like how much it feels like you’ve just signed Robin’s life away.

–

True to her word, Robin’s ears are little geniuses.

With her helping, you and Dustin are able to speed through the translating as Steve works the register. You’re tasked with writing down the letters that Dustin calls from the whiteboard as Robin listens to the tape over and over again.

“Weird ‘r’ with a hook!” Your brother declares for the last letter.

You write it down and can’t help but frown at the message you’ve seemingly deciphered. Showing the writing to Robin, you ask what she thinks. “Are you sure it was that weird ‘r’ sound?”

“I’m positive,” she says. “C’mon, let’s go tell Steve.”

“Are we sure–” You try to ask her again, but Robin has already made her way to the sliding window and gets Steve’s attention.

“We’ve got our first sentence!”

You make your way over and lean against the window as well. Steve, holding two ice cream cones, seems excited by the news. “Oh, seriously?”

“It’s a hesitant first sentence.” You butt in, still unsure if it’s even correct.

Robin rolls her eyes at you. “Ignore her, I’m right.” Then, clearing her throat, she does an impressive Russian accent. “‘The week is long’.”

Steve’s shoulders slump, clearly having expected something better. “Well that’s thrilling.”

“Told you it was a hesitant first sentence.” Then you turn to Robin. “Nice accent, by the way.”

“Why thank you,” she tips her hat at you before focusing back on Steve. “And I know it isn’t thrilling, but it’s progress!”

And with that, Robin spins around and goes back to the table in the breakroom, eager to decipher more of the code. You’re about to kiss Steve’s cheek and say goodbye, but then your eyes land on a familiar red-haired girl and her friend standing in front of the register. You look down at the ice cream in Steve’s hands and note the familiar order you’ve come to memorize since the mall opened.

“Max? El?” You lean further out the window, pleasantly surprised to see them. “What are you guys doing here? Where’s the rest of the party?”

The girls wave at you and giggle, and you realize now that you’ve never actually seen them alone together before. Normally they’re with Lucas or MIke, so it’s a bit jarring to see them getting along so well without the boys. Jarring, but also very lovely.

“We don’t need those idiots.” Max responds, which makes El giggle even more.

Steve whistles, impressed by Max’s bluntness, and hands them their ice cream. They begin to eat the treat before a thought occurs to him. “Wait a second, are you even allowed to be here?”

You walk through the breakroom and come out the main doors to join Steve at the register. While you’re happy to see Max and El getting along, Steve has a point. Why is El here in such a public space? When you had asked Hopper last month if you could take El to Steve’s graduation, it had taken a whole debate and a fresh batch of cookies in order to convince the old man to let her come.

El is still technically forbidden from being seen in public, and yet here she is: running around Starcourt with Max.

You put your hands on the counter and lean towards the girls. They take a few steps back, now knowing that you’re onto them. “Max, El, what are you up to?”

Their eyes widen while you narrow yours, daring them to lie. Then, quickly glancing at one another, they turn around and run out of Scoops Ahoy, leaving you alone with Steve. You both stand there, dumbfounded.

“I thought I only ever had to worry about the boys.” You whisper, horrified. “The girls were supposed to be the ones I could trust.”

Steve rubs your shoulders and kisses your cheek. “You’re gonna go after them, aren’t you?”

You drop your head and sigh. “Yeah, I am.”

“I’ll tell Robin you had a babysitting emergency.” He presses a kiss to your neck now, which you shiver at, before gently shoving you out from behind the counter. “Good luck, angel.”

Steve’s kisses give you the energy you need to run after Max and El. They’re surprisingly fast as they giggle and trade ice cream cones to share. You call after them as you dodge random people in the mall, but your calls are in vain. They ignore you and continue to skip happily away from you.

“Guys!” When you finally catch up to them, they’re outside standing in front of the bike rack. “Why are you in front of the bikes–oh.”

You see Mike, Lucas, and Will unlocking their bikes from the rack as they bicker over something. Faintly you hear Mike and Lucas arguing about splitting money while Will is silent.

There’s a tension between the girls and boys that you now take note of. Normally El would have already been wrapped around Mike’s arms, but she remains by your side as Max approaches the boys. “Well, isn’t this a nice surprise?”

When Mike sees El, he drops his bike in shock. “What are you doing here?”

“Shopping.” El says as she glares at the boy.

You’ve never seen her so cold towards someone. It’s kind of frightening, honestly. “Oh, Wheeler, what did you do?”

“What did I do? No, what did you do? You’re the one who is letting her walk around Starcourt where everyone can see her!” Mike shrieks, always finding ways to blame you for his own problems.

You scoff. “Hey, I’ve only known about this for like, a second longer than you have.”

“Sure, likely story.”

“Have you ever considered not pissing off your girlfriend?”

“Have you ever considered getting a better boyfriend than Harrington?”

“Okay–”

Max steps in between you and Mike, annoyed. “Both of you shut up!” She waves her hand over El’s outfit and tries to turn the conversation around. “This is El’s new style. What do you think?”

“I think she looks nice–”

Mike cuts you off. “What’s wrong with you? You know she’s not allowed to be here.”

“What is she, your little pet?”

El clenches her jaw. “Yeah. Am I your pet?”

“What? No!” Mike denies, equally as confused as you are.

You’re not quite sure how you ended up in this situation.

“Then why do you treat me like garbage?” El questions the boy.

You frown at this and subtly step towards Lucas, desperately hoping for some clarification. “Did I miss something?”

“It’s a long story.” He sighs, and you now realize that Max must be angry with him, too.

El continues to interrogate Mike, and you almost feel bad for the boy. “You said Nana was sick.”

“She is! She is sick.” Mike lies through his teeth. You think about what Hopper told you earlier, how he had said some things to get Mike away from El, and you suppose now that it had involved some type of lie about the kid’s grandma.

Then Mike shoves at Lucas to get him to play along as well. Reluctantly he echoes his friend, though you know he’s aware that he’s only making this worse for himself. “She’s super sick, that’s why we’re here, actually.”

Mike is quick to follow along. “Yeah, we’re shopping! Not for us, but for her, for Nana.”

You catch Will’s eyes, who has remained silent this entire time, and he shakes his head at you in disappointment. You look back at Mike and Lucas now, unamused. “Nana isn’t sick, is she?”

“She is! But…” Mike fumbles over his words now. “We’re also here to get a gift for El. We just–we couldn’t find anything that suited her and I only have like, $3.50, so it’s hard.”

“It’s expensive… Had we known you were at the mall we would’ve asked you for money.” Lucas mumbles, which you flick his forehead at. “Ow, Y/N!”

El looks between Lucas and Mike, her eyes showing her hurt. “You lie.” When neither boy says anything, her hurt only grows and her voice wavers with tears. “Why do you lie?”

Again, El’s words are met with silence. Mike looks down, too ashamed to meet her eyes, and you shift uncomfortably, feeling even worse for the kid. You hadn’t expected to witness an awkward relationship feud today, and it wasn’t all entirely his fault. You know that Hopper played a role in this.

Later, when you have the time, you’re definitely going to yell at the police chief about this.

As the silence drags on, the local bus that drives everyone in Hawkins to Starcourt now arrives in the parking lot. Hearing its brakes hiss, El looks behind her and seems to make up her mind about something. Her face is stony as she approaches Mike and her words are laced with venom. “I dump your ass.”

You and Max gasp, though yours is more from shock and Max is more from being impressed.

Mike’s face falls and El whips around and begins walking towards the bus. Max follows, waving goodbye to you, and you’re left to deal with the unfortunate outcome of this bizarre situation.

Laughing nervously, you awkwardly pat Mike’s back. “You’ll… Uh, fix this, right?”

Mike slaps your hand away and marches back towards his bike. His shoulders droop and he looks tired from all he’s had to deal with today. Lucas doesn’t look any better and silently follows after his friend. Will is the only one who remains, and he drops his head to your chest and groans. “I just wanted to play DnD today.”

“I know, little bee.” You scratch his head and try to console him. “But sometimes life gets in the way. Right now Mike and Lucas need you, do you think you could help them?”

Will looks up at you. “I don’t know… Maybe, I guess.”

“Do what you can,” you kiss his forehead, wishing you could do more for him. All he’s wanted to do all summer is be a kid again, but his peers are growing older and leaving him behind. It isn’t anyone’s fault. “I gotta go, buddy. But I promise you and I will do something this week, just the two of us, okay?”

He nods, content with this, and you ruffle his hair before heading back inside to Scoops.

–

Hours later, you, Steve, Dustin, and Robin all uncover the rest of the Russian code.

You stand with your back against Steve’s chest as he has his arms draped loosely over you. Robin and Dustin stand to your left as you all face the whiteboard that has the message written on it, reading it out loud.

“‘The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west’.”

There’s a pause as you all take in the bizarre message. You’re extremely doubtful that it’s right. The order of the words is too abstract to possibly be purposeful. It just doesn’t make any sense.

“Are we sure this is right?” You ask the group, knowing no one else will utter the doubt that settles over the room. Steve tightens his arms around you and shrugs.

“It has to be.” Dustin mumbles, though even he looks unsure.

Robin sighs. “Well, whether or not we’re right, dingus and I have to close up shop.”

Steve groans but reluctantly lets go of you so that he can help Robin with closing. While the two teens wash the ice cream scoopers and put away the remaining ice cream, you sit with Dustin at one of the booths.

“Maybe it’s a code?”

“Dustin, we just translated a foreign language. Thinking it’s a code seems like a cop-out, honestly.” You rest your head in your hands and watch Steve count the money in the register. Feeling your eyes on him, he looks up and winks at you. Blushing, you look back at your brother. “We probably just translated it wrong.”

“My ears are right! We didn’t translate anything wrong!” Robin shouts from across the store.

Dustin perks up. “See? We have to assume we’re onto something.”

You bite your lip, still unsure, but leave the topic alone for now. There’s no point arguing with Dustin and Robin because it’s not like any of you can just ask a native Russian speaker who is correct. If it somehow ends up being a hidden code, then you’ll apologize to Robin’s ears later.

It’s quiet in the parlor after that, but when Steve and Robin have finished closing and he pulls the gate down to lock up the store before you all go home, Steve can’t help but bring the subject up again. “I mean–it’s just, it can’t be right.”

“It’s right.” Robin affirms once more, and Dustin nods at her appreciatively.

“Honesty, I think it’s great news.”

Steve walks next to you as the four of you slowly head towards the mall’s exit. It’s late, you’re tired from your long day of translating the Russian language, and you’re ready to go to bed. Then, as if somehow knowing the exhaustion that weighs upon you, you feel Steve slip his hand into yours. His fingers are warm and the touch soothes you as he gently guides the two of you.

“How is this great news?” Steve asks your brother. “I mean, so much for being American heroes. It’s total nonsense.”

“The goal isn’t to be American heroes, dummy.” You chide, tugging at your hands to make sure he looks at you and listens. “We aren’t still going to follow this, are we?”

Dustin rolls his eyes at you both. “It’s not nonsense, it’s too specific and obviously a code. And yes we’re going to keep following this. We’re onto something, I can feel it!”

“All I feel right now is a crippling migraine forming,” you groan, rubbing at your temples.

Steve kisses your head in concern, feeling bad that he’s kept you out so late. However, he also really, really would love to become someone important. Someone worthy of his dad’s favor, so he follows after Dustin, curious despite it all. “What do you mean a code?”

“Like a super secret spy code.”

“That’s a total stretch.”

You snort. “That’s what I said, but no. Why should we ever listen to Y/N? It’s not like she’s always right in the end.”

Robin winces, afraid to annoy you further, but she can’t help but agree with Dustin. “I don’t know, is it really a stretch?”

“No, please don’t tell me you believe my brother.” You’re betrayed, hurt even, that Robin would succumb to Dustin’s fantasies.

Normally you’re all for believing your brother, but Russians in Hawkins leaving a hidden code in a radio frequency that can be accessed by the public? You may have fought alternate dimension monsters and you may know a girl with mind control powers, but even this feels far fetched.

“Listen, just for kicks, let’s entertain the possibility that it is a secret Russian transmission. What’d you think they were gonna say, ‘fire the warhead at noon’?” Robin raises her eyebrows at you.

“Well… no.” You slump your shoulders, knowing that she has a point. “But–”

“Just admit we’re right, Y/N.” Dustin says, annoyed.

Robin turns to you and almost groans when she sees your hand intertwined with Steve’s. Her voice falters for a moment at the sight, but she clears her throat and carries on with the conversation. “And my translation is correct. I know that for sure, so… ‘the silver cat feeds’. Why would anyone talk like that unless they’re trying to mask the meaning of their message?”

Dustin is next to her now, hanging onto her every word as you and Steve lag behind. “Exactly!”

“It is a weird phrase,” you mumble under your breath, and Steve can’t help but chuckle at how endearing you are when you try to play the reasonable role. It’s never any use, you’re everything that hope and optimism embodies; it’s adorable.

Robin sees that you’re close to giving in and begins to ramble now. “Why would anyone mask the true meaning of their message unless the message was somehow sensitive?” Again Dustin agrees with everything she says and Steve shrugs his shoulders while all you do is sigh in defeat. Looking at your brother, Robin concludes, “Guess that confirms your suspicions.”

“Evil Russians.”

“Okay, no.” You step between them now. “What if they’re just, like, really shy Russians who want some privacy? Why do we always jump to the evil conclusion?”

Dustin shoulders you to get you to shut up, and you shove him back, starting a small spat between the two of you. He hits your shoulder, you hit his stomach, and Steve watches with amusement while Robin stares in horror.

“Do we stop them?” She asks the teen.

Steve shakes his head. “I’ve learned that it’s best to just let them fight it out. It’s been a month, they’re behind on their fist fighting schedule.”

“I heard that!” You quickly say to him before yanking Dustin’s shirt to get him off of your back.

Seeing your struggle, Robin forces your brother off of you and holds him by his arms so that he doesn’t jump on you again. Dustin complains, but quickly shuts up at what Robin says. “Focus! I’m trying to tell you that I agree with you, this is totally evil Russians.”

Dustin stops struggling against her, now elated at the idea of defeating evil foreigners. “So how do we crack it?”

You were scared that Robin and Dustin wouldn’t get along, but as you watch them bounce schemes off of one another and plan an evil Russian take down, you’re now terrified of the friendship brewing between them. It’s worse than Steve with Dustin; Robin is just as cunning as your brother is.

She thinks for a moment. “I guess we translate the rest and hopefully a pattern emerges.”

“Have we ever considered a game plan for after poking our noses where they don’t belong?” Dustin and Robin both glare at you and you hold your hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’m just saying.”

“Ignore her, Robin. She likes to pretend she’s the rational one in these types of situations.” Dustin whispers to her, which you roll your eyes at. Steve kisses your cheek as a way to console you as your brother continues to speak. “Anyways, maybe the ‘silver cat’ is a meeting place?”

“Or a person.” Robin theorizes.

“Or a weapon.”

As the two of them come up with insane theories about what the code could mean, you notice that Steve is no longer by your side. Turning around, you find him stopped at one of the carousel horses meant for little kids. He’s bent over it, examining it. You frown, unsure what he’s doing, and walk over to him.

Resting a hand against his back, you lean down next to him. “Can I ask what we’re looking at here, honey?” He’s mumbling under his breath and digging through his pockets for something. Now you’re starting to get concerned. “Steve?”

“I need–do you have a quarter?”

“No?” You’re even more concerned now. Placing the back of your hand against his forehead, you check his temperature. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Sure you’re tall enough for that ride?” Robin quips as she and Dustin now join.

“Quarter!” Steve demands, nearly falling over as he tries to catch the one that she tosses him. When he catches it he quickly pushes the coin into the machine’s slot, bringing it to life. Music begins to play as the horse moves back and forth. It’s ominous, almost, in the mall’s dim lighting with no one else around.

Steve listens intently to the music, his face concentrated as if trying to understand something. As the music continues to play, you can’t help but feel that it sounds familiar. It reminds you of something, maybe a distant memory that you can’t quite recall. Wanting to understand more, you lean in close to the machine as well and mirror Steve’s actions. “The music…”

“They’ve both lost it,” Dustin mumbles when he sees that you’re also now analyzing a stupid carousel horse.

“Y/N, you helping little Stevie up onto the ride?” Robin laughs at her own joke, but you swat at her to shush her.

As the song plays once more, it finally clicks. Your mind flashes back to your conversation with him earlier in the break room as you kept replaying the Russian recording over and over again. It’s the same song. With a gasp, you throw your arms around Steve’s neck and begin kissing his face over and over again. “You’re a genius!”

Steve leans into your kisses and smiles at the praise, relieved that you don’t think he’s some idiot. Though his heart is beating wildly, he clears his throat and shrugs as if it isn’t a big deal. “I have my moments.”

“Care to share with the class, dinguses?”

Robin’s voice startles you, having momentarily forgotten where you were. Blushing, you pull away from Steve and clear your throat as well and act as if you weren’t just drowning the boy in kisses. “Listen to the song, guys.”

The seriousness of your tone causes Dustin to finally listen to the music as well. It only takes him a few seconds to piece together what you and Steve already have. “Holy shit. The music.”

“The music.” You confirm with pride, still incredibly amazed that Steve managed to remember such a small yet crucial detail. Since coming to befriend him, you’ve come to admire just how perceptive he is. Sure, he may not be a math whiz, but his emotional and creative intelligence leaves you in awe every time you see it. He’s smarter than anyone gives him credit for.

You wish his father saw this intelligence within him. Honestly, you wish more people did.

Dustin yanks his backpack off of his shoulder and starts rustling through it as he searches for something. When he finds his tape recorder, he starts to play the Russian transmission again. Hearing the audio and carousel play simultaneously side by side, it only confirms what Steve has long since figured out: it’s the same song.

Not being able to help yourself, you again kiss Steve’s cheek, giddy and proud of him. “You’re brilliant.”

He preens while Robin scrunches her nose, unsure why you’re all over the guy because of some song. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s the exact same song on the recording.” Dustin explains to her.

“Maybe they have horses like this in Russia?”

You nod at her. “Maybe? We should look into who produces these machines, it could be our new lead.”

Steve shakes his head. “‘Indiana Flyer’? I don’t… I don’t think so.”

Something seems to shift within his voice and his face now twists with slight fear. He looks as if he’s realized something awful, and you feel your own joy from earlier vanish. A chill runs through you, the same awful feeling of dread that once overwhelmed you when Will originally disappeared now courses through you again.

“What is it?” You softly ask Steve, already bracing yourself for the worst.

He frowns at the apprehension in your voice and the worried crease between his brows makes you want to smooth away the concern. You know he doesn’t want to scare you, that he’s always trying to make things easier for you, so you tilt your head at him and nod slightly; you want him to tell you. Seeing your unspoken permission, he sighs. “This code, it… didn’t come from Russia. It came from here.”

You, Robin, and Dustin all look at one another. Fear settles over the group, you can feel its heavy weight like an old, familiar friend.

“Why does everything happen in Hawkins?” You say to no one in particular, still trying to process what this all means.

Dustin sighs and Steve drops his head.

Somehow, you always end up here.

–

Steve offers to drive you and Dustin home after seeing how shaken up you are by the latest Russian revelation. Tired and exhausted and terrified as usual, you accept.

It takes some trial and error, but eventually he and your brother manage to fit your bikes in the back of the BMW.

The drive to your house is filled with awkward banter between Steve and Dustin. You sit quietly in the passenger seat as the two boys try to make light of the situation, but not even their jokes can lessen the fear that creeps into the car; none of you are sure what to make of all of this.

When Steve pulls up to your house, all that you’ve managed to do the entire car ride is make a mental note to call Jonathan about everything later. It’s not your best plan, you wish that there was more you could do, but at the very least you know that he and Nancy can help.

Dustin scrambles out of the car, desperate to escape the tension within it. “See you tomorrow, Steve!” He calls behind him before slamming the car door shut.

You snort softly at your brother, finally moving to unbuckle your own seatbelt, before Steve places his hand on yours and stops you. He’s noticed how quiet you’ve been the entire car ride and the way your eyes have clouded over with fear. He hates it. “Do me a favor?”

“Yes?” You blink at him, unsure what he could want at this hour. It’s late and your mom expects you home soon.

“Leave your window unlocked for me.” He winks at you, trying to play coy, but you see the genuine concern for you hidden beneath his actions.

You can’t help but smile; it feels as if you can breathe again. “Steve Harrington, why should I leave my window unlocked for you?”

Your smile sends a warmth through Steve’s chest as relief washes over him. He’s doing something right. He’s gotten you to smile. “Because I’m planning on sneaking in after I park my car a few blocks down so your mom won’t see me.”

Though you know what he had been implying, hearing him say the words out loud causes a wild blush to burn across your cheeks and your stomach to swoop. Steve has never done this before, sneaking into your room like some lovestruck teenager late at night, it’s been the one boundary neither of you have crossed before.

“I suppose I can do that.” You say with an air of indifference, which Steve rolls his eyes at. “Strictly friendly, of course.”

“Oh, of course.”

You giggle, finally unbuckling your seatbelt, and you exit the car after kissing the boy’s cheek. His face is warm against your lips and you’re coming to memorize the way your nose presses against the indent of his cheek bones.

When you get inside, your mom is knitting on the couch while Tews sits in her lap. She greets you with a smile and you compliment the scarf she’s making. “I’m sure it’ll be perfect for this winter, mom.”

She thanks you and wishes you a good night, noticing the bags underneath your eyes with slight concern. Inside your room, you quickly clear away the scattered pieces of paper on your desk and arrange your bedding so that it isn't strewn across the room. Steve has been in your room a million times now, and yet you can’t help but feel like tonight is different for some reason.

True to his word, within ten minutes Steve is knocking on your window. Hearing the quiet way his knuckles rap against the glass makes your heart jump in your stomach. Your body practically buzzes as you go to open the window, eager to have him close to you.

“Took you long enough,” you tease, opening the window wide enough for him to crawl through.

Steve pulls himself up with ease, his biceps strain against his Scoops Ahoy uniform, and you’ve never been more thankful for corporate policy. “Sorry, angel. Came here as fast as I could.”

You tug at his shirt and the two of you are falling into your bed. He lands on you with a soft thud and your body has long since become accustomed to his weight. As his body settles upon yours, it feels like coming home. You exhale deeply, wrapping your arms around his body, and Steve nuzzles his face into your neck and presses a gentle kiss there.

Everything swirling violently within your head now stills. The constant onslaught of worries and doubts finally quiets, and you know that despite it all, at least you have Steve.

“We’ll figure it out, ya know.” Steve’s lips move against the skin of your neck as he speaks, making you shiver slightly at the sensation.

“I know,” you start to play with his hair, needing something to do with your hands as you speak. “But… How many times are we going to keep doing this? Be the only people in Hawkins aware of what’s going on?”

Steve is silent for a few moments, allowing your words to sink in. He rolls them around in his head, he knows that the question isn’t one that comes from doubt of what he and the others are capable of. You don’t lack faith, you lack the willingness to constantly place the ones you love at risk. It just isn’t in your nature.

“As many times as needed.” He pauses again, unsure how to express to you his certainty that you’re capable of so much with all the love within you. If there’s anyone in this shitty town who is a real American hero, it’s you. “I mean, after everything we’ve been through these last two years, measly Russians are no big deal. We’ve fought worse monsters than Communism.”

You laugh, he always somehow gets you to laugh, and the sound is as angelic to Steve as your eyes are to him. He tightens his arms around you and relishes in the way your body presses against his, how he can feel your body move with every inhale of your laugh.

Then, slowly, your laughter dies down. Reality settles upon you once more and you want to believe Steve, you do, and you try to reassure yourself that he’s right… but something feels off about this. You can’t exactly articulate what it is, but there's this haze of uncertainty that you’ve never quite felt before; a vulnerability that leaves you feeling cold in his arms.

Sensing your fear rising up again, Steve tries to distract you by changing the subject. “Speaking of monsters, I recruited the little heathens to help with your birthday gift.”

The change of subject works. You raise your head and look at the teen. “You mean the party? You got them to help with a gift for me?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, Y/N.” Steve butts his head against your chin playfull. “I can make them listen to me… sometimes.”

You stare at him, knowing he’s full of shit. “Go on, tell me all about how you got them to listen to you.”

He tries to hold your gaze, refusing to back down, but he cracks after only a few seconds. “Okay, fine. It took a lot of pleading and I now owe a bunch of pre-teens money.”

A loud, full body laugh escapes your lips, and Steve laughs with you. The two of you hold one another and feel each other laugh, chests rising with glee. For a moment you feel okay again, forgetting everything else for now. You’re carefree in this moment, feeling like a little kid again, something only Steve can do to you.

When your laughs die down, you and Steve quietly lay together. No other words manage to find their way in the dark of your room, all that needs to be said has been laid to rest. His warm breaths hit the base of your neck as your nails scratch against his scalp. While you feel safe in his arms, there’s still so much that needs to be said.

Staring at the ceiling of your room, you see faint threads and strings and lines that you thought you put to rest that night in Jonathan’s room this winter. Now, they’re back again, only this time it’s a different boy within your arms. Something akin to doubt creeps in.

Steve already has all of you, you told him you’d wait, but what if you’ve missed your chance again with him like you did with Jonathan? When June began, Steve promised that you had all summer together. He calls you angel and tells you stories to fall asleep to on the phone, and yet the threads that glow above you taunt you.

You love him, you do, but you’re terrified that whatever the two of you uncover with the Russians will somehow pry you apart.

Just like Will’s disappearance had pried Jonathan away from you two years ago.

July looms over you and summer is going by faster than you thought it would. The promise of summer, one that usually leaves the nostalgic taste of honey on your tongue, now threatens to choke you.

As if having a mind of their own, your arms tighten even more around Steve, almost as if somehow you can shield what the two of you have from the dangers within Hawkins.

You hope it’s enough.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

⌑ taglist: @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau @thytorturedpoet @innercreationflower @juhdoche @frostandflamesfanfic @goosy-goose @quinnsadilla @munsons-queen @stefansring @rice-elephant @bex22109 @bitchkeery @bex22109 @officerrrfriendly @kazunish @idkitsem @emilieluckwood @ryoujoking @criesinlies @tagakalat @dcnerd98 @sucker-4-angst @kitdjarin1 @onecojg @innazra @areiofhope @spaghetittied @cultish-corner @g8sstuff @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @hsllfirescoops @l0ve-0f-my-life @newyorkangelbaby @aliceespector @chervbs @poppet055 @bookkeeperlove @bellenotthebeast @swiftieblyth @ladyobscurus @moon-flowerss @estaticheart @dreamingofts18 @lanxsee @thecapricunt1616 @aheadfullofsteverogers @marvel-and-music @angie2274 @thescoopstroopers @xuimhao @rh1nestonecowg1rl @shelby-ren @carinacassiopeiae @eddiemunson-86-baby @ribbetzetoad @harryssideboobz @cherrycherry19 @mamamakaylamorgan23 @slttygeto @alltoomay @hiraethavis @torntaltos @eeniemeenie

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #nya #m's writing #this one foreshadows loooooads #like so much #i feel so sneaky

562 notes · View notes

yuff7e · 3 months

Text

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ tanjiro, inosuke, & zenitsu bf headcanons !! gender neutral reader

the cuties song -> www.spotify.com

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ tanjiro !!

- literally the cutest ever.

- he’s soso respectful and genuine

- if you want a boy that will genuinely listen to you and how you feel about certain things, get a tanjiro.

- he deserves sm love and he’d definitely put you in his top priorities while also making sure you weren’t getting hurt in the process !!

- he’s a big fan of physical touch, so if you’re also training to be a hashira don’t be surprised when everytime he passes you he brushes his hand up against yours. (HES SO CUTE IMA EAT HIM)

- WILL defend you.

- like if someone’s talking bad about you he’s walking right up to them with no fear

- of course, he isn’t aggressive so he would handle the situation calmly

- “why are you saying that about [name]-sama? did they do something to you?”

- will purposely choose you each time they get to pick who they want to train with, and will get a little jelly if u don’t pick him

- but it’s fine !! as long as he sees you happy he’s happy.

- you’re one of the people he trusts with nezuko during the daytime, and will let you carry her box if you ask

- he enjoys seeing you and his sister spending time together, he feels like you’re genuinely apart of his family

- he finds comfort in you when he’s missing his family, and isn’t ashamed to cry or show his true emotions infront of you

- he likes it when you hang out with inosuke and zenitsu too, but gets a little embarrassed if they act weird.

- like, if zenitsu starts flirting with you or inosuke starts screaming like a grizzly bear

- he knows you wouldn’t judge him though, he just wishes his friends acted cooler around you !! because … you’re so cool !!

- “i want to be with you forever, [name]-chan.”

—

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ inosuke !!

- ohh boy, you got this man’s attention.

- if you seriously got him to like you and date you, you’re the one and you don’t have a choice

- you’re definitely his top priority besides defeating muzan

- like genuinely you’re right up there, you’re over his basic needs like eating and sleeping

- he can get a little flustered if you’re a fan of physical touch and decide to touch him in front of tanjiro or zenitsu

- but he secretly loves it, although he’d never tell you that !! (just kidding, he absolutely would but would make you swear to never tell anyone)

- WILL flex infront of you during training, especially his arm and back muscles. since he’s so flexible he’d show that off too

- “hey babe check this out!” (cue him spinning on his head, crashing into 4 different hashiras and getting in trouble)

- he’d have those moments where he’d just stare at you and gawk, not even in a weird way but genuinely just because he likes you so much

- like you’re so attractive !! and nice !! and… amazing !!

- if you were as flexible and strong as him just know he’d be picking you and training everyday and not hold back

- like he’d throw you over his head and if you lost he’d laugh at you, but if you win and knock him over your head he’d be head over heels

- he loves it when you beat him, which sounds crazy considering the fact inosuke is a pretty sore loser .. but when it comes to you and seeing how strong you are he’s so impressed

- that was one of the main reasons he started to like you

- you’re basically his idol, and that MEANS SOMETHIMG BRO !!!! RAAHGG !!

- i think his love language would be gift giving, hes definitely showing up to the demon corps with a pretty rock he found and putting it on your nightstand and wait for you to notice

- “inosuke! did you get me this?”

- “no”

—

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ zenitsu !!

- such a flirt we already know this

- but, he’s also extremely respectful

- he has pretty bad self control but if he genuinely likes you and who you are instead of just what you look like he’s actually a great guy

- he’s the definition of if he wanted to he would

- like, if you’re sad he’d get you 3 bouquets of roses and the other 3 would be outside because he couldn’t carry them all

- “zenitsuu!! you didn’t have to do that!!”

- “if it’s for my lady/man i’d do anything!!”

- his love language is love in any form

- physical touch, gift giving, words of affirmation

- but omg does this boy needs words of affirmation

- there’s a big part of him that feels unworthy of your love, like - you seriously love him? no way.

- will wake up with a HUGE smile on his face every morning with you being the first thing on his mind

- would beg to share a room with you alone, not for anything weird (although zenitsu is lowkey so weird) he genuinely doesn’t want his friends to see you sleeping (╥﹏╥)

- he gets so jelly over every single thing, like - why do inosuke and tanjiro get to see you sleeping?! in your purest form!! ahhhhh!!

- would pick you every time during training and if you pick someone else he’s begging you to train with him until you finally give in and train with him

- if not and you’re adamant on training with somebody else he’s giving that person a death stare the whole time, no exceptions

- unless you tell him to stop, he’ll try - but he can’t help himself… you’re just so amazing

- he always talks to you about yalls future together and will actually get emotional as he speaks, holding onto your hands as he speaks about how yall are going to have 5 kids and a big house

- “i love you so much [name]-chan!!! i want you to marry me!!!”

—

yay that’s it !! thx for reading guys :3 i might do the other hashiras next, but if anyone has any demon slayer requests PLEASE send them in, demon slayer is one of my biggest interests right now and i will go OFF while writing for you guys !! send em in !!

REQUESTS : OPEN

388 notes · View notes

thelovinghost · 1 year

Note

Hello there!!!! may i request headcanons on how the ouran host would flirt??

YES OMG I JUST SAW THIS REQUEST ON JULY 1 2023 [Yet I'm posting this in almost August...] Left out Mori cause he don't talk

Tamaki Suoh

A natural born flirt

He's so good, even his regular talking sounds like he's flirting

He's a cheesy flirt, but he has his moments were he's like a poet

"Your eyes are deep as my love for you"

"I'd rather look into your eyes than any stars in the night sky"

He knows how to make anyone blush, even those daring cougars

Man is great at foreplay

You get so used to his flirting that you become immune to it

^ He gets really upset by this, flirting is his best trait

^ Bro gets into a mental crisis. If he loses his flirting ability, will you become unattracted to him?

He loves when you play along with him and flirt back

He loves to flirt and it's his life

Though, if you're better than him at flirting?

He doesn't even know how to process it

Doing it effortlessly? He wants you to stop, because he's afraid you might flirt with other people, even if you don't realize it

You think he's over reacting [And you're right]

Hikaru Hitachiin

He's mean

At first he flirted with you as a joke, you know, like friends

But then when he gains feelings, he becomes a weird ball of confusion and uncontrolled emotions and he takes it out on you

He's mean to you, because he doesn't know how else to express his emotions

You're very confused

He gives you mixed emotions

One second he's over you like cuteness on a puppy then the next he ignores you

His brother will confront him and will sweep in to help your relationship [If you could call it that]

He'll flirt with you, so that Hikaru accepts his feelings [he doesn't]

In fact, he gets into a fight with his brother when they get mad

Hikaru and Kaoru get into such a bad fight, that it effects their host club activities

Hikaru's scared of rejection and abandonment

He's scared if he opens up, you won't want him

But you think he's fine either way

He's just a bad flirt with someone he likes, to cut it short

Kaoru Hitachiin

He's genuinely the best flirt

He's sweet and kind and unlike Tamaki he doesn't flirt with everyone

He's able to express every emotion he has for you when he flirts, unlike his brother

It's not even really flirting for him. It's just him telling you how much he loves you and everything you do to him

He'll make you blush and smile so much your cheeks hurt

He's genuinely so smooth

He'll grab your hands and tell you sweet nothings

He genuinely means everything he says to you

He loves you and wants you to know that

Mitsukuni 'Honey' Haninozuka

He has a child-like idea of flirting

He'll give you his sweets and lets you hold Usa-chan

He loves admiring you and will just randomly say how pretty he thinks you are

He's so cute, he can say the dirtest things and you won't even realize what it means

You'll think it's just cute

But it's not. He is a filthy, nasty, dude

But he has this child-like innocence atmosphere around him

He compares you to his favorite sweets and tells you he'd pick you over Usa-chan

[Damn, that's a compliment]

"You're as sweet as sugar, Y/n-chan!"

He has this sweet smile on his face as he tells you everything

"Y/n have you ever heard of a Funky Monkey?"

"No, why?"

He laughs, shaking his head, "I can show you, if you'd like"

Don't let him show you

He wants you to see him as a man, not a boy, hence the sex innuendos

Kyoya Ootori

His idea of flirting is pointing out your flaws and criticizing you

Kind of a douchebag ngl

I guess another way to put is that he's not to good with words

He'll take you wherever you wanna go

^ That's kind of his love language

He kind of looks at you and admires you

Though he doesn't admit it

He, like Hikaru, is scared of his emotions

He uses his actions instead of words

It's okay, you understand him well enough to accept this

You don't mind

Though when does open up to you, he'll occasionally, VERY RARELY, say something sweet

"You look nice today, Y/n"

You'll look down at your yellow dress, which you always wear because it's the uniform. "Ummm.... Thank you?"

He feels like an idiot after saying this though, so please don't call him out

Haruhi Fujioka

Terrible flirt

Can not flirt to save her life

When she does 'flirt' it's not even consciously

It's kind of like a mask

When she does try and tell you how she feels, it kind of falls flat?

Like she says it in such a flat tone and it comes off weird?

"Wow, you smell nice today"

^ "Excuse me?" [She says it like she either doesn't mean it or that you smell awful every other time of day]

She just keeps making it worse by continuing with it and not backing down

In fact, you'll probably be turned off by her for a while, because of her flirting

Eventually one of the other host club members hear her flirting and go to save her

"Haha, he doesn't mean that. He's an idiot." They'll pat her back, before dragging him off

"What is wrong with you? What was that?"

"I was flirting"

They then laugh at her and she frowns

She needs help

2K notes · View notes

spookysteddie · 8 months

Text

Studio Sessions

18+ MINORS DNI

Modern!rockstar!Eddie x influencer!fem!reader

Series masterlist here

cw: voice recording during sex, reader gets insecure, studio times, fluff, flirting, pet names, oral (fem! receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, dirty talk, reader gets what she wants.

wc: 3.6k

a/n: this got away from me... I hope you all enjoy it! Feel free to send in requests for these two if you have them!! ALSO: this is the last post for them I'll have with a tag list... it's so much work and not that I dont love y'all ( I do) it's just hard. I hope y'all still love me and understand ❤️.

...

Is it normal to miss someone you just met?

Is it normal to go on a few dates, sleep over their house like every night and still miss them immensely when they're gone?

You and Eddie have spent every moment together since that first real date. Has he asked you to be his girlfriend yet? No. But you really don’t like to think too far into that one because then you’ll spiral, which is no good for anyone.

It didn’t matter too much. You knew it didn’t matter and you knew that he wasn’t fucking anyone else because he was either in your bed at night, or you were in his. I mean he could be fucking other people during the day, but you doubted it.

Back to the missing him part. It feels weird to miss someone who is a few feet in front of you, who you can literally see. But here you are, Eddie standing on the other side of some glass gathering things, and you miss him. You can’t help your thoughts from wandering back to if he feels the same way. But also, why would he? Men don’t act like that, right?

“Sweetheart, you ready?” Eddie's voice cuts through the fog of uncertainty.

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. You were in the studio with Corroded Coffin, getting to watch their recording process. Eddie is right, there is something missing from a few of those songs, but you’re unsure if your voice is what is missing. You’re willing to try, though, still honored every agreed to this.

Eddie sets you up, putting headphones on you so you can hear the music. “Okay, sweet angel, don’t get too close to the mic because it can cause the sound to get a little weird. Got it?”

“I got it.” You grin up at him. He kisses you sweetly, your body growing hot.

He leaves, going to stand outside the booth with the rest of the band and his producer. He gives you a thumbs up, smile lighting up his face. He’s been more than excited that you agreed to do this.

You hear a count before the music starts, you quickly look down at the lyrics sheet in front of you. When you get the cue you start, turning on the most bedroom voice you can manage, eyes locking with Eddie’s as you speak. “Mine, be mine. Love me. Never let me go.”

You smirk at him as he squirms, his friends hitting his arm. You aren’t sure why it makes you happy to watch him squirm but it does. You let out a laugh, real and loud, instead of saying your next lines.

The producer perks up, cutting off the music, “oh my god, that was amazing! I need more of those.”

You feel your face get warm, a small and shy giggle leaving your chest. You don’t hear Eddie enter the room, but you can feel him. His energy calling to yours. You hum, not caring that they’re still recording you.

He pulls your headphones off, “great job, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, baby.” You lean in kissing his lips. It’s quick, just enough to get a taste of him. “This is a lot of fun. I like this!”

“You sounded very beautiful.”

You giggle, looking up at him grinning, “I was just talking.”

He kisses your forehead and whispers to you, “no. You were using that voice you use when you’re desperate for me to fuck you.”

You freeze, looking up at him. He’s looking at you with that sexy smirk on his face, making your stomach flip and clit pulse. God, he’s so hot when he’s doing absolutely nothing, dressed in black sweatpants and a sweatshirt, dressing comfortably for the long day in the studio. You could kiss him, right now.

No, scratch that, you could fuck him right now. You would if there weren’t six other people looking at you.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you whisper, winking up at him.

He kisses you quickly, leaving you wanting more as he pulls away. “Ready for the next one?”

…

You’ve been here for 8 hours.

Between adding little snippets of your voice, the band recording the rest of their songs, adding background vocals and putting in instruments, it takes a while. And you are tired. So tired in fact that during their last two songs, you fell asleep on the little couch in the studio.

You know this because you’re woken up by a soft voice and a hand brushing your hair out of your face.

“Sweet angel? Hey, baby.” You know it’s Eddie's voice based on the softness and sweetness he reserves only for you.

You stretch, groaning just a little as your joints crack, “m’sorry for falling asleep. Didn’t mean to.” Your voice sounds small and a little crocky with sleep. You cover your mouth as a small yawn slips out, “s’cuse me. I’m sorry.”

He laughs, kissing your free hand, “don’t apologize. We had a long night and early morning. Could’ve gone back to my place and slept?”

You shake your head, “mm-mm. Gotta be supportive. It sounds great and your fans will love it.”

His grins widens, lips meeting your knuckles. He looks tired too and you sort of regret keeping him up most of the night. Well, actually, it was a mutual thing. You’d tried getting him to go to bed but he just ‘couldn’t get enough’ and then when you tried again, while he was still inside you and growing soft, but the second he shifted, you were pushing him on his back and riding him. See, mutual.

“I’m glad you think it’s great, sweet girl. But you won’t upset me if you go home.”

Home. The word clangs through you and makes your head spin. It shouldn’t because he definitely didn’t mean anything behind it. It was his home so of course he’s called it just ‘home’ and you are for sure overthinking it.

You shake your head, both to clear it and to answer him, “no. I can wait. How much longer?”

“Like another fifteen minutes? I just need to listen to that last take and the boys need to add some background stuff. Then we can go.” His thumb is rubbing along your knuckles, his touch soft even if his hands are calloused.

“I’ll wait.”

And you do, this time staying awake. You post some instagram stories, making extra sure to mute it so you don’t spill a single note. Everyone loves the little insights to your time with Eddie, his fans enjoying seeing a different side to him. Of course, your parents still aren’t happy.

You haven’t spoken to them since that phone call. You don’t need their opinions and Eddie has yet to be a bad person when it came to you.

In fact, he’s good at planning dates and making sure no one follows. Blocking the paparazzi from getting unflattering photos of you. Sending you with security if needed. He cares. He cares more than anyone else ever has.

It feels nice to date someone who doesn’t see you as a ticket to their fifteen minutes of fame. Who didn’t look at you as a way to further their own career. Sure, Eddie was more famous than you were, something the press loves to point out. But in some way you were on the same level. It was more than refreshing.

“Ready?”

You look up at his brown eyes and nod, letting him take your hand to help you up, your coat already in his hands.

Once you both are ready to brave the slightly chilly weather, he takes your hand and leads you out. “There’s going to be people out here okay? Just so you're prepared.”

You grin, looking over at him, “I am prepared, Eddie. I know the cost of dat- um, being seen with you.”

If he catches your almost slip up, he doesn’t say anything. He just smirks, squeezing your hand as he opens the doors to the outside. Cameras flash and people scream, you’re practically blinded by the flashing bulbs. It doesn’t last long though, Eddie helping you into the car before getting in himself and closing the door, the sounds of screams muffled slightly.

“God, I love them but the screaming kills my ears,” he presses his finger to his ear, blocking it slightly before releasing it.

You giggle, raising a brow, “aren’t you used to it? You hardly wear your ears on stage.”

It was true. Eddie had this habit of taking out the ears he wears on stage, usually used to help keep beat as most artists can’t hear the music coming from the speakers.

He shrugs, “ya aren’t wrong but I feel like I’m far enough away that the sound doesn’t hurt that bad? I really should keep my ears in so I don’t like lose my hearin’ before I’m 32.”

“Should hear it from the crowd,” you tilt your head slightly. “I had to get little ear plugs after the first time I saw you guys live. My ears rang for a few days after and I was yelling cause I couldn’t hear.”

His eyes get wide, “that sounds awful. I should get ya some custom ears so you can hear what we’re doing on stage.”

That makes your heart flutter a little, the fact that he wants you to hear all they do. “I don’t think I could deal with the metronome ticking.” He looks at you, “how do you know that happens?”

You playfully roll your eyes, scrolling through your phone till you find a post you liked a little bit ago. “This. It’s a video of what Taylor Swift’s sound like inside. It was very interesting.”

He watches it, three times actually. And then he giggles and scrolls, some familiar music starts to play and you already know what he’s looking at. Your face flames as you move to take your phone back. Unfortunately, he’s faster, moving so you can’t grab it from where you sit.

He scrolls again, “you like these edits of me?” His tone is teasing and you feel like you’re going to die. He was never supposed to know you like thrist traps of him, most of them to his own songs.

“E-Eddie give it back,” you plead with him.

But he shakes his head, scrolling again and again and again. “These edits are actually really good. M’impressed. I also think it’s cute you like them.”

You finally reach your phone, tugging it from his hands, “it’s rude to go through someone's phone, Eddie.”

He fake pouts, “awww, are you embarrassed baby?”

You don’t say anything as he coos at you because you are embarrassed that he saw those. But fuck, he looked so fucking hot in those edits. They make you feel things deep inside you, things you’ve used your vibrator to take care of.

He leans forward, his hand reaching out and cupping your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t be embarrassed, baby. I think it’s kind of hot you have those liked.”

He pulls you closer, his lips meeting yours in a sweet, soft kiss. That feeling comes back, the one with a voice that questions why he hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet. It’s been some time and you spend a lot of it together. You don’t want to push him, to make him look at you as needy or too much or annoying. That’s the last thing you want. You’ve heard it enough, from boyfriends, from your parents, from the people in your comment section. And the last thing you wanted was to hear it from Eddie.

He breaks the kiss, his eyes scanning your face. Fuck he knows.

“Are you okay?” He asks you with worry in his eyes. It kind of makes your chest hurt to worry him.

“Oh yeah! I’m fine. Just… tired.”

But, of course, he sees right through it, “no. You’re in your head. Come on… spill it.”

You can’t. You want to express to him how you feel, to ask him to not waste your time. If he isn’t interested in you then you need him to tell you that so you can move on. But you know he is interested, you just sat and recorded bits for their album for fucks sake! He calls you sweet names and listens to what you have to say. He fucks you in a way you’ve never been before. He’s in tune to you and your needs, so the idea he doesn’t want you is absurd.

But… “nothing. I just have that photo shoot coming up and I’m just nervous. It could make or break my career.”

Half truth. You were nervous about the campaign. It could make or break your career if you didn’t do a good job or if people didn’t like it.

He looks like he doesn’t believe you but he doesn’t push you further. You wish he would.

…

Eddie’s lips kiss along your chest, nipping a sucking sweet marks into the skin there. Marking you. Owning you. His hand moving up to tease your breast while his mouth sucks on the neglected one.

His phone is set up beside you, the little red dot indicating he’s recording. It definitely catches the gasp you make as he works your chest, but he just feels so good you don’t think about it.

He asked you six times before hitting record if you were okay with this, him voice recording. And you were, truly. He wanted your moans for his music but wanted some variety in there. So, he’s recording the entire round of sex. You’d be a dirty little liar if you said it didn’t turn you on. The idea that he’ll have this on his phone and in his music. Your moans immortalized on tape? It was hot as fuck.

Eddie swaps sides, eyes meeting yours as he licks and sucks and bites. It hits you right at your center. He was hot as fuck, actually. Looking slightly feral as he kisses down your body. You can’t take your eyes off of his when he settles between your legs, putting them over his shoulders to give him more room.

“God you’re so wet for me, sweetheart,” he runs a finger through your slick, making you moan. “So pretty. Was so hot watchin’ you today.”

“But I-” he licks up your slit, cutting you off what you were about to say.

He sucks on your clit, making your back arch. It was insane to you how well he knew your body. He’s learned every dip, every curve of your skin. He’s learned exactly how to drag deep moans from you with his mouth, tongue and cock. Memorized them. He did it quickly too.

“B-but I didn’t really do anything.” He slips two fingers inside you, stretching you out. “God! Fuck that feels good.”

He doesn’t say anything, just laughs and curls his fingers. Eddie knows exactly what he’s doing, turning your brain off with every thrust of his fingers.

“J-just like that, baby! Oh god, don’t stop.” You can feel the orgasm building deep in your belly, your whole body growing hot as you squeeze his fingers. “M-more. Eddie, I need more.”

He adds a finger, the burn from the stretch feeling incredible. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. Oh my god.” You don’t even know what you’re saying, just a babbling mess. This was typical when it came to the way Eddie worked your body. He’s the only one who’s worked you like this.

Your orgasm hits you, mouth dropping open as your back arches on the bed, “Fuck! Fuck, fuck fuck!”

You ride it out with Eddie’s help, his fingers slowing and his mouth coming off your clit with a soft pop. And when he finally removes his fingers, sucking them between his lips and moaning, you feel empty. You need him to fuck you, to feel him inside you.

“Taste so fuckin’ sweet, baby. Just can’t get enough,” his voice drops a few octaves and you swear your heart stutters for a moment.

“Please…” you whine.

It hits you then that he is fully clothed and you are as naked as the day you were born. The dynamic is hotter than it should be, you might need to talk to your therapist about that. Or not. That’s an issue for another day.

He pulls off his shirt, stomach flexing with the movement, “please what, angel?”

His hands pull at his belt, tugging it through the loops before meeting the same fate as his shirt on the floor. Your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth and you forget the English language for a moment. He pops the button on his jeans, sliding the zipper down as he waits for your answer.

You manage to find it, “please fuck me. I-I need it.”

He slides his jeans and boxers down his legs, his hard cock bobbing free. You squirm, licking your lips while your eyes rake over him. You need him, need him in many more ways than just sexually. You need him as yours, need him to love you. You can see the life you’d have if he called you his. Your babies would be beautiful thats for fucking sure.

You don’t really have time to think further on it because Eddie slides inside you, his lips meeting yours and swallowing your moans. He tastes like you, cigarettes and weed. An odd mix but you love it anyway.

“Shit, pretty girl. This pussy feels amazing. S’like you were fuckin’ made for me.”

Your heart pounds and you know he can feel it, you can feel his. “I-I was. I was m-made for you, Eddie. Made for you” You kind of don’t mean for it to come out, but it can easily be brushed off as heat of the moment dirty talk.

But there is something in the way he’s fucking you right now, something different. It’s slower than it has been, sweeter. Like he wants to take his time here, like he wants to feel every inch of you. His eyes shine with lust and something else, something he blinks away before you can decipher it. You have a feeling you already know what it is, because you feel the same way.

“Yeah? You think so?” He lets you wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him close. “Think we were supposed to end up here?”

You’re going to die if he keeps talking like this. He’s actually going to kill you. More so because you do believe in the invisible string theory. Everyone can say you’re going too fast, but you think your string is attached to him. Everything about him screams it in confirmation.

“Y-yes. I do.”

He kisses you soft and sweet, adjusting slightly to hit that sweet spot inside you. You gasp into his mouth, hands coming up to his cheeks to hold him there while you kiss him. Again, it’s all slow and sweet and filled with emotion.

“Glad we’re on the same page, baby.”

He fucks you just a little faster, hitting all your sweet spots and making the coil in your belly twist tighter. “I- oh my god, Eddie.”

He laughs, not straying from your lips, “I love when you pray to me.”

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, a deep moan falling from your lips as your velvet walls squeeze him. It makes your head spin and you kind of feel like you’re going to pass out from how good it feels. You don’t, of course.

“That’s it, baby. Such a good girl coming for me. My pretty angel.”

“Y-yours.”

He nods, “mine.”

Mine

The word cycles through your head over and over, making you clench harder around him.

“Fuck, baby. Gonna cum. Fuck fuck FUCK!”

He spills inside you as he moans your name. It’s angelic when he does it and you’re gonna make him send the recording to you immediately so you can hear it again and again. He collapses on you, being careful to not crush you with his weight.

“I s-swear on my life, you’re the best I’ve ever had.”

You giggle, shaking your head, “i bet you say that to every girl you fuck.”

He lifts his head, his face serious, “no. I don’t. You’re the first person I’ve ever said that to.”

You just stare at him, not knowing what to say.

“Did you mean what you said? About us being made for each other?” He asks it quietly, like he’s afraid of anyone hearing him. Anyone but you.

You swallow the lump in your throat. You can do this, tell him how you feel. Right? “I-I did. We fit together so well. Don't ya think?”

Now it’s his turn to swallow, “I do… I meant it too.”

You aren’t sure where this is going, but you hope to whoever the fuck is listening that it’ll go your way.

“You did? You haven’t known me that long.”

He shrugs, “so? You spend every night here, or me at your place. You get to know someone pretty quickly that way.” He laughs a little, pushing some of your hair out of your face.

Ask me

“I would agree,” you say as you run your fingertips up his arm.

“Would you agree to stay forever if I asked you to?”

You hold your breath and nod. He gives you a look that makes you squeak out a small “yes.”

A huge grin breaks out across his face, bright white teeth showing, “then stay. With me and be mine. And I’ll be yours. No more wandering around lookin’ for each other.”

You blink away the burn behind your eyes, you cannot cry at someone asking you to date them, “n-no more wandering.”

#stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fic #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x fem!reader #modern!rockerstar!eddie munson x influencer!fem!reader

412 notes · View notes

twstfanblog · 2 months

Note

Hello hello, I love your manhwa au so much, it gives me life!! Plot A is my favorite, I love the angst factor, thank you for the food. I'm not the og plot G anon but I have some ideas for it that hopefully keep FL in character!

FL being so annoying when she's flirting with Yuu that the trio takes notice that Yuu hasn't been around them as much. At first they're kind of smug and happy that it's pulling Yuu away from their usual time together, thinking they can finally get some peace and quiet now. Then the jealousy lowkey sets in, because they haven't seen Yuu in a while, where is she? She was invited to the gala today, and she usually shows up early to annoy them, so why are they standing alone in this crowded room? They overhear some guests mentioning how they saw Yuu and FL at a cafe earlier this week, and how the two are rarely spotted without the other in public these days. FL seems to really like Yuu! There's gossip about if it's romantic, that's how intense FL gets even in public spaces. The trio get this weird sinking feeling in their chests at the thought that Yuu wasn't going to be by their side forever. That she was choosing someone else over them.

Except, Yuu isn't reciprocating FL's feelings. Originally she thought FL could be a new friend, but the things FL has been doing have been killing her vibe to say the least. Pulling her away from her other friends (the trio) at events, finding her in public and inviting herself along to Yuu's solo outings, and being really annoying and clingy in a way that stomps on Yuu's personal feelings. FL doesn't respect her opinions or care to listen to what Yuu is and isn't comfortable with. Yuu feels like FL is fully obsessed with a character she's made up in her head and superimposed on Yuu's person. Yuu starts staying home more, causing Crewel and Crowley to take notice and grow concerned. She stops accepting invites that she knows FL will likely be invited to or be a plus one of a guest to (this includes a lot of the events the royal family hosts since they invite practically every noble family). Maybe this sudden lack of desire to socialize makes Crewel so worried he suggests some pen pals Yuu could write to and that's how she befriends Leona, Idia, Riddle, and Vil in this one. (She writes to the trio too, but they don't reply to every letter and she stops soon after, thinking they're busy and she's bothering them. It's fine, they're still friends after all! Except, her new pen pals have a lot of responsibilities of their own yet still make time to reply to her... She's just overthinking it probably...)

Eventually the trio meet up with Yuu again at a gala and say some rude things, still not understanding they're jealous. Things like asking why she came back to bother them. Yuu, who has missed them a lot and pushed herself to leave the house today to be able to spend time together, is understandably hurt and upset. She snipes back at them she just wanted to spend time with her childhood friends today but she can see she's not welcome here, and she walks off to find her pen pal buddies who have been treating her better. Trio feels bad about that since they are at this point in time more accepting of there being some level of friendship between them, even if they feel it's mostly one-sided from Yuu's side. Later at the event, the trio (finally) sees for themselves what an interaction between Yuu and FL is like with Yuu visibly uncomfortable, trying to get away from FL with excuses, and FL not respecting any of Yuu's wishes or personal space. This can go two ways with trio realizing Yuu hasn't been choosing FL over them, she's been trying to avoid FL and a side effect was avoiding all of society (including them) in the process... Or a misunderstanding blooms that Yuu is being bullied by FL and she was too scared/embarrassed/prideful to tell them.

I love that everyone gives me mini manhwas about my AU!!!

Lowkey though, Yuu wouldnt change much. She'd just openly ignore FL. Because of her example of Crewel and Crowley's relationship she sees being mean to FL as also giving affection. And god forbid she's nice to her.

So FL just doesn't exist anymore. Poor thing is trying to convince Yuu that she doesnt need to stay with Malleus the whole evening and they should dance together. Yuu is just deadlocked gripping Malleus’s arm and asking him if he found any new gargoyles on the palace property.

Jamil watched Yuu completely walk away when FL fake fainted right beside her to force her to catch her. Yuu just turned away right as she was tilting.

Azul is the one who asks Yuu, after he had the tweels pick FL up and just walk away with her, what the fuck all that is about.

Yuu: Look, she's just really annoying and this is the only way I could think of her getting the hint I don't want her around.

Azul:

Azul: Just be your normal horrid self. She'll run for the hills.

Yuu: I can't do that. Being mean is just as affectionate as being nice.

Azul:

Azul: What???

Yuu: Yeah? It's how my dads like showing how much they love each other.

Azul:

Azul: By being mean to each other???

Yuu: Yeah.

Azul:

Azul: This explains so much of our childhood together.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #yuu oc #azul ashengrotto #jamil viper #malleus draconia #manhwa au

83 notes · View notes

pinkbubbles06 · 5 months

Text

Rosekiller Headcanons Pt. 2

Part 1

These may be out of order or be repeating from pt 1 but it’s only cuz I got excited…

Annnyyyyywayyyyy…. HERE WE GO!!

* Barty would be that type of person to have a thought process along the lines of “Evan deserves someone better than [insert name of whoever Evan is currently dating here]. If it were me dating him, I’d treat him much better.”

* And then he would proceed to not think on that any harder.

* Every time Barty gets an angry owl from his dad, he gets so overwhelmed by anger to the point being called by their name makes him want to scream. So all his friends start calling him "idiot" "pretty boy" "raccoon" "dumbass" respectivly until he calms down.

* lets not get it twisted, evan was 100% crazier than barty.

* Before they got together Barty would beg Pandora to make flower crowns so he could give them to Evan. If the flower crowns were from anyone else Evan would burn them on the spot. But anything from Barty he cherished forever.

* The second barty would come bounding up the hill towards him in spring, flower crown in hand, Evan would smile gently as Barty placed it on his head with such pride and joy.

* After they got together, Barty made Panda teach him how to make them so he could do it himself.

* Evan spends half his time saying "shut the fuck up" to Barty because weird stupid shit always falls out of his mouth

* (and he does shut up 'cause that man is whipped)

* Barty always forgoes pockets for the sake of fashion, and so Evan’s pockets are always full of random things of Barty’s that Barty can’t carry in his hands

* Barty is a mommas boy ™️

* Barty was shorter than Evan for the longest time but in 3rd year he had a growth spurt in the summer and was towering over Evan when they saw each other on the train.

* Barty would talk to his mother about everything and everything and he mostly spoke of Evan.

* Barty’s mom had a beautiful garden and Barty asked her if she could teach him to plant roses one summer.

* When Evan came over the next summer Barty was so proud to show him the roses he grew just for him.

* barty whose eyes are locked on Evan’s throat, he wants to leave his marks all over there, bite the soft and perfect looking skin, make it his home

* then he gets hit over the head by dorcas with a pan, and she tells him to be normal

* Barty always found it real hot when Evan gets pissed and bangs someone’s head into a wall until their blood is running down their face. He loved it when Evan was insane.

* (Evan is more crazy than Barty is. Period. You can’t convince me otherwise.)

* Regulus never understood why Evan and Barty were so deranged sometimes. He’s a good child.🥲

* evan's last thought before being hit by moody's bombarda was the way barty smiles between their kisses

* Barty would always absentmindedly play with Evan’s hair at all times

* Whenever they would go out in the winter, Evan you always tell Barty to bring a coat, even though he knows he will end up carrying it for Barty because coats make him feel trapped sometimes.

* He would just be like: "wear a jacket, it's cold out!”

* And Barty would be like: ”uggghhhhh fineeeee!!!”

* Barty always opened the door for Evan or pulled his seat out before he sat down

* Evan: did you eat today?🤨

Barty: yes….👀

Evan:

Barty:

Evan: eat something love.😘

Barty:

Barty: fine.😒

* Barty wants so bad to be Evan’s trophy wife lol

* After Barty proposed, he would daydream of the moment he first sees Evan at the altar. Like. He’s so in love guys.

* barty absolutely LOVES valentine’s day and uses it as an excuse to be as publicly sexual as possible, loudly flirtatious, and is wrapped around evan like a condom

* evan pretends to DESPISE valentine’s day, acting like he forgets about the occasion just to get on Barty’s nerves- dodging his attempts to flirt / touch, and makes a show to be as unromantic as possible. on the inside, he’s squealing and kicking his feet

* Even hated Barty at first they would argue sooooo much!!!

* But then Barty grew on him like he does with every one

* Evan loves making Barty cry during sex. Especially if he is overstimulated.

* Evan loooovvvveeeessss overstimulating Barty during sex. (Barty loves it too btw lol)

* Ives said it before and I will say it again because it need to be a thing. EVAN IS NOT NOT TIMID AND HESITANT!!!! HE IS A PHYCO!!!! HE IS WORSE THAN BARTY GUYS!!! LIKE COME ON!!!!! IK I SAID THAT THE FIST TIMEHE AND BARTY DANCED HE WAS INSECURE BUT THEY WERE REALLY YOUNG AROUND THAT TIME!!! LIKE 14!!! (At least in my head…) AFTER THAT INE TOME HE WAS SOOOOO CONFIDENT!!!

* (sorry for yelling lol)

* Any way….

* if you don’t think regulus had a little sign with the amount of times barty got pushed off the beds for being a little shit ur so wrong

* Barty‘s mother had a huge family estate in the countryside that Barty’s mother and he would go and live in during the summer. it’s also where her garden is. Barty would drag Evan along every time

* Barty’s dad lived in the city because of his job…

* They announced their relationship on April Fools and were both laughing their ass off watching Hogwarts try to figure out if they were actually dating or not.

* Evan is really shitty about being woken up. like if he falls asleep on the couch just leave him there, don’t wake him up to try and get him to go to bed because he will bite your head off. When Barty finds him on the couch in the common room he will settle down and cuddle up next to him and read a book. Or take a nap with him lol. Depends

#barty crouch jr #rosekiller #evan rosier #barty crouch junior #marauders #harry potter #marauders era #barty jr #regulus black #james potter

66 notes · View notes

trumpkinhotboy · 11 months

Text

Lean on me

Pairing: Twin Brother!Nick Nelson x Twin sister!Reader

Type: Request (thank you so much!!)

Genre: Angst that ends with a lot of fluff

Warnings: Sexual Assault situation. Although the details aren't of extreme nature, it can still be a hard thing to read for some people, so be careful <33

Rating: 13+ (because of SA)

Word count: ~ 4600

Requests: Open! For Heartstopper, twilight wolfpack, chronicles of narnia and harry potter

A/n: I was really inspired for this fic and it took me quite some time to write it. I hope you will enjoy protective brother nick nelson and the fluff with the Paris gang as much as I do. If you have any requests feel free to message me !!

A/n pt.2: Please don't come for me for my summary, I fucking hate writing those xoxo

*gif is not mine!!

Summary: The reader goes to a party without her twin brother, Nick. Through different circonstances, she ends up dancing with someone who might have not rightfully earned her trust. The situation quickly escalates to horrible heights. She will have no other choice, but to learn how to defend herself, and how to lean on the people who matters for her.

Your heart is racing, your eyes are burning, and silent tears stream down your face. You rest on the threshold of the door you've just exited from. You can't grasp and even begin to process what just happened. You look up, hearing your name being called from afar. It feels like you're in a different dimension. Everywhere you look, reality seems distorted by some filter. Finally, you focus on your mother's face. She's sitting in her little car, window down, waving at you. Automatically, your body starts walking toward the car, but mentally you are elsewhere. In a dark corridor up in this horrible mansion. Trapped.

Your heart beats in a thumping rhythm as you cross the threshold of the mansion. Music is blasting out at an alarmingly loud volume with the place already packed.

You try to calm your breathing and to remember you were invited and belong here as much as anybody else. The few people you cross paths with wave at you. You smile back, trying to look confident and relaxed. The image of collected cool.

Even though there's actually a weight dropping in your stomach.

You are, after all, Nick Nelson's twin sister. He has a certain 'popular kid' reputation that was mostly passed on to you by association. You are both known for being nice and popular kids. Although you definitely are more lowkey than your 'rugby king' brother. So, even if you aren't sure these people are your crowd, you couldn't refuse when you had been invited to some guy's end-of-exams party.

It wasn't rare for you to be invited to events like this. Although, it was one of the few times your brother didn't join you. Ever since he started dating Charlie and got closer with the Paris gang, you could see less and less of him at these kinds of gatherings. That's why tonight, instead of being here with you, drinking lukewarm punch and listening to questionable music as some alcoholized teens were being unleashed in a mansion worth ten times your house, he was hanging out at home with his friends. You would much rather be with them, but they were Nick's friends, and even though they were nice to you, you always felt like the annoying sister trying to tag along in her brother's friend group.

That's why even when 95% of you wanted to turn back around and escape that terrible party, you took a deep breath in and let yourself be swallowed by the crowd of people.

10:15pm. You had been here for an hour, and it did not get better. The cup of punch in your hands was sticky and smelled incredibly weird. No doubt because someone had dumped in a bunch of mixed liquors. Your friends were all hanging around. Either dancing or flirting with some questionable-behaving young men. You couldn't help but look at your phone about a thousand times in the last twenty minutes. You thought about calling your mother. You knew she'd come to fetch you, but then what? You'd go back home? Seeing Nick and all of his friends having a jolly old time while you had failed to have a good night on your own? No, thank you.

You loved Nick to death, but sometimes, seeing how liked he was proved to be incredibly difficult for you. You always felt like an impostor. He dared to be himself, and people liked him anyway. You weren't so sure you'd be met with the same welcome if you dared step away from the facade you had carefully built all these years.

Maybe that's why you accepted to dance with someone you didn't even know. You did see each other around a few times but never actually spoke. He seemed nice enough, so when he reached out a hand and offered you to dance, you drank a sip of your horrible drink and joined him on the crowded dancefloor without question.

He was entertaining and invented goofy dance moves to make you laugh, but all the while, something felt off. You felt like you were being watched. Sometimes, you'd see his gaze over you as if he was looking at someone else. Each time you'd try to look in that direction to see who he might be looking at, he'd find some clever way to focus your attention elsewhere. After a few songs, you were both out of breath, sweaty, and hoping for a break. You were about to invent a creative excuse to get away when he offered to get some water. You hesitated, trying to look around for a friend, but none were in sight.

"Come on, we'll get some water and air if you want to. I know a spot." His expression was kind and seemed genuine. That's why, again, you followed him even though some small part of you screamed that you shouldn't.

The feeling in your gut turned queasy as he led you through dark corridors. The once kind smile that graced his features seemed to turn smug as you headed deeper into the house. You finally reached a little room far away from the agitated crowd. He opened the door, inviting you inside. "Are you coming?"

Your feet were rooted to the ground, the feeling in your stomach spreading to your entire body. This felt wrong.

"Uhm, no. I think my mom will be here soon. I should go." You took a step backward, trying to put some distance between the two of you. Trying to calm the instinct that screamed at you to run.

"Oh, come on. Don't you want a glass of water?"

You only stared at him, not daring to respond, too scared to fall into this trap he layed in front of you. You knew water would not be involved if you entered that room, and he seemed to get that too, "We had fun, didn't we?" the change in his tone made shivers creep up your arms. Gone was his facade of the innocent boy. He now looked like a snake trying to lure in his prey.

"Yeah, but now it's time for me to go. Thanks."

He stepped towards you, making you fully back into the wall. "Please stay. It's my party, you know. The least you could do is stay a little longer with me."

You looked around, noticing his arms had crept on the wall on either side of you.

"Please get your arms off," you demanded. You tried to make your voice sound assured but failed to hide the quiver in it. He noticed it, and the glim of rotten confidence in his eyes shone brighter. He had you exactly where he wanted you.

He trailed one finger up your arm, your stomach tying in knots at the touch. "You know, I've seen you around a lot. You're Nick Nelson's sister. People talk about you. They say you're stuck up. You've never had a boyfriend or anything, am I right? I like girls like that, so nice, so pure."

You almost threw up on him, the allusions making you feel nauseous. You couldn't, and wouldn't, hide the disgust filling your eyes. You looked around, hoping to see someone turn up. Praying for someone to come, but it seemed you were out of luck as the corridor stayed empty.

His hand went up in your hair, and you held your breath. Terror like you had never felt before paralyzed your body. "The guys bet you wouldn't get with me, but I think we have potential together. Am I right? We could head in that little room together and see what happens."

You felt the hand on your waist slowly slide down your hip, tugging you closer.

"Get off of me!" you exploded as you pushed him back as hard as you could. He hit the door behind him quite hard, the doorknob digging in his back. You made a headstart to get away, but before you could get further, his hand grabbed your wrist, tightening his grip until he had you wincing in pain.

He gritted his teeth, ambers of rage dancing in his eyes. "Oh, come on, don't be like this. Stay here with me, and we'll have fun." He pulled you backward by the collar of your shirt, and you heard the fabric rip with a distinct sound. He pressed you tight on his chest. You could feel every part of him pushing hard against your back. He gripped your hips while his other hand fumbled with your chest. His foul mouth on your neck.

Refusing to give up, you gathered all the self-defense knowledge you had and stepped on his foot as hard as you could, hitting him with your elbow in the stomach at the same time. You put all your strength in the blow as if you were trying to pierce him through. You knew you cut the air from his body with the sound he made. His arms loosened up for a second, and this time, when you started running in the opposite direction, nothing stopped you.

Running as fast as you could, you looked back for a second. Unable to resist the reflex to confirm you weren't being followed. Whipping your head to the front, you couldn't dodge when someone suddenly exited a door on the side. You crushed into them with blunt strength, almost sending you two toppling down.

"Oi! Watch where you're going- Oh, Y/n. Are you okay?"

The voice sounded incredibly familiar, and your gaze focused for a second. Sai, one of Nick's good mates, was staring at you, worry digging down the corners of his mouth.

"Uhm, I- I'm sorry. I have to go." You couldn't stop and risk getting caught again, so you started running, leaving Sai looking at your disappearing form.

You fled outside, already texting your mother. You hid until you saw the familiar form of the family car. Sprinting towards it, you climbed in as fast as you could.

"Well, someone's in a hurry to come home." chuckled your mother as she headed towards the exit. "The party wasn't fun?"

Forehead resting on the cold window, you couldn't say a word. If you were honest, you could barely register what your mother said. All you could feel was his hands on you. His lips on your neck. The phantom sensations gave you the horrible feeling that he was still grabbing you. That you were still trapped up there.

Your mother's touch on your arm brought you back to reality. "Are you okay, darling?" Even the soft touch on your arm was enough to make you shudder. "Y/n, did something happen?"

Your gaze connected with hers for a split second, but you willed the fear in your eyes to disappear. To go back to a dissociated gaze. Allowing nothing to show.

"I don't want to talk about it now," you mumbled while covering the tear in your shirt with your hoodie. You needed to comprehend what had happened before you could say something. Even if you wanted to, the words were stuck in your throat.

Your mother stayed silent for the rest of the ride, although you could feel her gaze on you a few times. You felt like she'd say something until she faced the road again without adding a word.

When you finally pulled into the driveway, you made for the door. You wanted nothing else but to disappear into your room. Your escape was halted when your mom grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. You winced at the pain it inflicted and the reminder it brought. The look in your eyes was one of undiluted terror.

Her face turned white as a ghost's. "Y/n, I will give you your space for now, but I want you to know and understand that we will discuss this."

Your house was filled with music and happy voices. You could hear through cotton-filled ears someone call your name but didn't stop. When you slipped into your room, you stood in the dark and looked at your wrist. The red mark on it was already turning to a soft purple. A whimper escaped your mouth as you sunk to the floor.

You cried and cried and cried. The adrenaline had left your body, and the walls you had built around you to survive had been torn down. With a hand on your mouth, you tried to maintain your sobs to a minimum volume.

What the actual fuck was all you could manage to think.

Catching a glance of yourself in the mirror hanging on your wall, a wave of disgust ravaged you. In the darkness, like glow-in-the-dark marks, you could see the print of his hands on you, the sloppy marks he left on your neck. You felt disgusting. You needed to wash this off now.

You headed for the bathroom, trying not to attract anyone's attention. You were about to grab the doorknob when the door opened on a surprised Tara.

"Oh my god, Y/n, you scared me! I didn't know you were here," she exclaimed with her usual cheerfulness.

You stayed silent, feeling like you had been caught red-handed. Shame crept on your cheeks.

In a second, she analyzed the state you were in. The tear on the collar of your shirt. Your puffy eyes, your red cheeks. "What happened to you? What happened to your shirt? Are you okay?"

Her sweet concern was all it took for you to tumble into tears again. She helped you back to your room, supporting and hugging you tight. You babbled incoherently about what had happened. You just needed these horrible words to be out of your system. You needed this unbearable reality out of your head, needed the constant litany of words to stop.

Tara listened to your whole story and managed to understand through your sobs. As you finished, out of breath, she convinced you to let her get Nick. You dreaded it at first, so scared to see his reaction, but the once-in-a-while seriousness in Tara's tone managed to persuade you.

You heard her going down the stairs and waited in silence. You held your breath. The house was utterly silent as if it was also holding its breath. Then, it erupted, and all you could hear was someone climbing up the stairs at an alarming pace. Your door opened on a whim, almost digging a hole in your wall with how strongly it went flying back.

Your twin brother was standing on your doorstep, his chest going up and down quickly. He didn't say anything. He just scanned you from head to toe before reaching out his arms. Engulfing you in a tight embrace, he rocked you back and forth.

"Tell me," was all he said, his tone hoarse and hard.

"I was anxious and bored, and this guy asked me to dance. We did, and then he offered to get some water and air. I followed him but felt this grip in my gut. Felt like something was off. He led me to a dark room. I refused to go in and said I had to go, but then he backed me into this wall. Saying stuff about what other people thought about me and about some bet he'd made with his friends. I- I tried escaping Nick, I really did, I promise. I kept my distance, I told him to go away, but he wouldn't. I pushed him and tried to make a run for it, but he grabbed my wrist and started touching me. I managed to defend myself and get away. I ran into someone. I think it was Sai. I stopped for a second but couldn't tell him anything, so I ran again and hid until Mum came to pick me up."

The silence in your room was deafening. His whole being was at a standstill. Nick wasn't known to be a violent person. Quite the opposite, but you felt like that was about to change.

"Show me where he hurt you."

You extended your wrist, the mark gone even darker than before.

"Anywhere else?" he reluctantly asked.

You couldn't, and wouldn't, show him where precisely but managed to wave your hand towards your neck and upper body. Shame once again invaded your cells. His eyes filled with despair and so much rage. He hugged you tight again. "I'm going to kill him."

You whipped your head up. The look in your brother's eyes was one you had never seen before. Immediately, guilt flooded your thoughts.

"Nick, you can't get involved in this. I'm so sorry I got into all this trouble. I don't want it to affect you at school. I shouldn't have followed him. This is my fault."

He looked at you incredulously. As if you had just said the dumbest thing he had ever heard.

"Y/n, you didn't get in trouble. Someone assaulted you. You are not at fault here. Do you understand? Because I really need you to." He tightened his grip on you, his cheek on the crown of your head. "I don't need you to pull some Charlie number on me."

"A Charlie number, uh?" you heard a familiar voice speak up.

Charlie's head peeked from your door. The face of comfort and reassurance. "Can I come in?" You nodded as he made his way to the bed. "Although I'm not sure what exactly he's referring to, I'm pretty sure he's right. You shouldn't feel guilty for something someone did to you, okay? Especially for something like this."

You saw the hint of pain flashing in his eyes and remembered he had experienced something similar.

He reached a hand you immediately grabbed. You had loved Charlie since that first day he came to your house to meet Nellie. There was something about him that always made you feel safe and comfortable. His presence here meant a lot to you. "You okay?"

You still weren't precisely grabbing the heaviness of what had happened. But the support you were shown helped you manage the whirlwind of emotions you were feeling. You nodded feebly.

"What do you want to do?" finally asked Nick. "Can we do anything for you right now?"

You confessed you did not want to be alone tonight. You dreaded being left with your thoughts, scared they would swallow you whole. "I just want to feel safe," you whispered.

The words were like a dagger to Nick and Charlie's hearts. They both felt so guilty about not being there to protect you. What happened tonight brought them back to the beginning of their relationship. When Charlie had been through the same thing you just did. It awakened so many unpleasant and painful memories in their hearts.

"Of course. We can stay with you all night," said Nick with a kind smile, and you knew he meant it.

He offered to watch a movie, knowing that was your thing when you needed comfort. He felt that nothing he could do would help you heal from the experience you just had, but he'd do anything in his power to make you feel better. Your eyes light up at the suggestion, and he couldn't help a loving smile from lighting up his face.

"The gang is still down there. If you want, I can ask them to leave?" suggested Charlie. "Even I can go home if you would rather be alone with your family. That'd be totally understandable."

If you were being honest, you would love for them to stay. The more, the merrier, and Nick's friends were such a cheerful and caring group. You knew they would be supportive. You hesitated, on the edge of saying yes.

Nick felt your hesitation and put a hand atop Charlie and yours. "We can ask everyone to leave if you want to, no problem. But if you feel comfortable and want them here, I know they'd love to."

You finally admitted you'd love for them to stay. Charlie went downstairs to fill them in. Leaving you in the room, still wrapped in your brother's arms. Both of you weren't ready to move just yet.

"If you want them to leave or need anything at any moment, I want you to come straight to me. Is that clear?" You nodded. "And while they set everything up, I have to tell Mum. She's worried sick, and rightfully so."

You nodded once again, knowing she deserved to know. Still, you couldn't help your stomach from twisting in knots at the thought of this thing spreading out.

Always so observant, Nick noticed how scared you looked. "Please, trust me, let me handle this. You don't have to worry about a thing. Just let me deal with it. You can lean on me." You mumbled an 'okay' as he kissed the top of your hair.

An invisible promise to protect you forever.

The gang all split up to help make you feel better. Elle, Tara, and Darcy helped you clean up. You didn't want to be alone. So when you looked anxious to step in the bathroom, they all suggested they'd sit down in there, waiting for you. They were incredibly caring and supportive. Acting like this wasn't out of the blue and odd. You knew Nick and Charlie had filled them in, but none dared to say a thing. Their respect for your privacy and light chatting were both things you were incredibly grateful for. In the meantime, Tao and Isaac prepared the living room for the movie. They went all out and built a fort of pillows and blankets with snacks, ready to welcome you when you were done.

As for Nick and Charlie, they were dealing with the situation. They told everything to your mum and contacted Sai to find out what he'd seen. He immediately admitted seeing you running away from a corridor, shirt torn up, with tears running down your face. He found the guy in question, still catching his breath, and pieced two and two together. He even got him to admit the whole thing. He questioned some guys and even confirmed the horrible rumor of the bet. It had taken everything, and encouragement from Charlie, for Nick to stay put and not rush back there to beat his ass. Even your 'anti-violence' mother kept her mouth shut while Nick uttered threats, each worse than the other. The next day would already be horrible enough for the guy without Nick having to get in trouble had reassured his boyfriend.

Forty-five minutes later, you were all covered in blankets, resting on pillows, cuddled up together. Nick and Charlie were sitting on either side of you. Your brother's arm reached around you and his boyfriend.

The rest of the gang was scattered around the floor and the couch, but you were still all touching. Forming an unbreakable chain of support and love.

You looked around and felt so grateful as you looked at the people present. Nick squeezed your hand with a kind smile, a quick check-up to confirm you were still okay. You cleared your throat, gathering everyone's attention. The movie softly played in the background while you started, "I wanted to thank you for this. You have all been incredible. Thank you for helping me, and I hope you can forgive me for interrupting your end-of-exams party."

"Hush with that. As if we'd ever be mad for something like this." intervened Elle. She put a comforting hand on your shin, her features so open and caring. You couldn't help but give her an answering smile.

"Did you really think we'd resent you for what happened tonight?" inquired Charlie. Once again, a light of understanding sparkled in his blue eyes.

"No, but it's just... This was your thing. Your party, and once again, I'm intruding in and forcing you guys to hang out with me."

"Forcing us?!" cut Tara. "Y/n, I don't think anyone here would feel forced to hang out with you. We like hanging out with you!"

Your eyes shone with surprise and something like relief. They all looked at each other incredulously. Not quite believing that you didn't know how much they liked you. "What?! Did you think we only thought of you as Nick's little sister?"

You turned your head towards a disbelieving Tao. Your shy silence was an answer in itself.

"You have great taste in movies. Plus, you have a lot of knowledge about the cinematic universe. I like hanging out with you because you're the only one in this group with decent expertise of the culture." He added enthusiastically. Pronouncing that last word with his usual mediocre impression of a Scottish accent, he extorted a laugh from your chest.

"And you like to dance, and for some reason, you get Darcy's poor sense of humor," added Tara with a sarcastic roll of her eyes. To which her girlfriend lightly tapped her leg in protest.

"And you're into art, and you're actually the only one in this group who can give me constructive criticism about my work." Your gaze dropped back to Elle, giving an accusatory look at the rest of the group.

"And you're the only one willing to have a book club with me. Don't think I can talk and have actual discussions with this lot about all the books I read," finished Isaac with a shy smile. He was the first in the gang, after Charlie, with whom you felt really close. You squeezed his hand as a silent thanks.

"We're trying to tell you how you mean so much more to us. You're Y/n Nelson. We like hanging out with you because you're a great person with great interests. Not because we have to. Not because you're Nick's sister." explained Charlie. He knew how it felt when you thought people didn't honestly like you. Or when you thought they'd be better off without you. He saw so much of himself inside of you. It made his heart tighten with sadness and love.

You stared at them all, a few tears burning in the corners of your eyes. You coughed, trying to hide the emotion flaring up in you.

"You are part of this group if you want to Y/n." Charlie nudged you with his shoulder as if he had read your thoughts. You lifted hopeful eyes towards him. You felt as if your heart might burst with joy.

"I-"

"I'm not giving you any choice." cut Darcy out of the blue."You are part of the gang. Nothing you can do about it." she declared. As always, her unexpected comment had everyone laughing. You looked at her triumphant face, euphoria spreading in your chest.

You looked at your brother, who was already beaming at you, pride and joy mixed in that sweet expression. The tears in your eyes welled up and, against the better of you, softly dropped on your cheeks.

"Are these tears of joy...?" asked Isaac, speaking for the whole group. You had been through a lot tonight, and they had hoped their intervention would have made you happy. But they questioned if it had been too much, too soon.

You let out a soft chuckle. "Yes."

In a team effort, the whole gang jumped on you. Engulfing your body in an embrace of warmth, love, and laughter, a lot of laughter.

"I'm so sorry for being such a..."

You stopped mid-sentence when you felt a pinch on your arm, only to hear Nick whisper, "From now on, you are also banned from saying the 's' word. So shut it and enjoy." The whole group, including yourself, erupted in laughter.

There would be a lot of hardships coming in the next few days, but knowing you had them all made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you'd be able to weather it.

#ilya writes #nick nelson #nick nelson x twin sister!reader #nick nelson x sibling!reader #nick nelson x reader #paris gang x reader #heartstopper #heartstopper fic #nick nelson fic #nick and charlie #alice oseman #kit connor #joe locke #charlie spring

239 notes · View notes

6okuto · 5 months

Note

Hi, I really love your headcanons for Touchstarved, they’re so great!! If it hasn’t been requested yet, may I please request Leander falling in love headcanons?

LEANDER FALLING IN LOVE

gn!reader | thank u!!!! \o/ es leander time :-]

don't know how to describe this. for ais + vere + kuras, romantic feelings develop somewhere in the process (ais and vere generally love being little shits so they could've liked you from the start.) but for leander, it's clear he's kinda into you from the beginning. LOL

this doesn't necessarily mean the relationship will develop super fast! leander pays attention and keeps a pace you're comfortable with, though he doesn't shy away from your flirtations (might be surprised, but then he'll smile/laugh and flirt back) or physical touch if you go for it. he loves it even!

one moment is him wooing you with magic...again... another flower! multiple, even! little fireworks! stars! a trail of flickering lights where you find him waiting for you at the end! you can show you're genuinely touched or tease him about it (is a lot of your job doing little magic shows? / is a flower the best you can do?) and he says he'll do something even bigger next time

another moment might be you taking charge in some way. telling him to back down/up, defending him, asking to take the lead for one of your adventures. it isn't often that leander's offered the option to be anything but a leader, much less told not to be. he offers advice but generally follows your lead, and is it weird for him to say that it was really attractive when you told that guy to pay attention to you, not him?

it all just seems too good to be true, he's too good to be true. so you're wary, even if you do really really want to get close or kiss him etc etc. and leander can tell, of course, so he'll just keep trying to prove himself to you

there has to be a moment where you find out how and why he does things for free—why he's the renowned leader of the Bloodhounds. that's not for me to figure out though! i am not a theorist [heart emoji]

But :3 I will offer :3 leander protecting his people above ground isn't a rare sight. leander getting super ticked off or cold is. he's all but mastered his charm and negotiations, until you're involved, and the bloodhound leader might resemble his rumors more in that moment :3c

he doesn't really run from his feelings? he knows he likes you, and that you like him too, so he doesn't see a reason to beat around the bush there. the problems lie with his gang business and possible necromancy if the theories are true, so we'll have to see about. That because there could definitely be some kind of fight or confrontation between you two depending on what he's doing

but anyway. when the time finally comes, he tells you being with him will put a target on your back, but he promises to protect you, even more so than he has been.

plus! he hasn't taken you on a proper date yet! you didn't think hanging out at the bar or looking for books or sneaking into buildings was the best he could do, did you?

! having a hard time choosing how everyone finds out he has a partner now. he could make an announcement at the wet wick if you're comfortable with it, making your spot in the gang official. it could be that people were already gossiping/betting on when it happens, and when he kisses your temple at the bar someone sees and cheers. it's really up to you! i think he's happy with whatever you'd like :3

so! leander's into you. when does he realize he's In Love with you

because i don't think he really had a Serious Relationship in his plans LOL. and that's nothing against you!! he regrets nothing!! it's just... there's things to figure out, priorities to be made, long term plans that have to be accounted for

i'm kind of imagining like. an oh shit moment. he may not say that but the emotional impact is that level

yes he was always interested in you, but it's obviously getting more serious, because he's thinking of the mundane? if that makes sense. like it isn't just that he likes holding your hand or kissing you, it's that he imagines it when he's tired and uses the thought of seeing you again as comfort. it isn't just that he'd love to wow you and take you on a date, it's that he's wondering if you'd mind going on some errands with him. he's fitting you into every area of his life in his head rather than trying to keep you separate

and at some point it just clicks in leander's head.

he can be the one to say it first! might even be the same day he realizes. you're taking a nap and he says "i love you," just to try it out. it feels a little weird but not unwelcome, and now he has to figure out when to say it while you're conscious LOL

if you say it he [ ! ] [ :) ]. maybe sighs and makes a joke about you beating him to it, but says it back sincerely :3

#touchstarved x reader #leander x reader #! will probably be my last ts hc post for. .....an unknown amount of time. was a bit of a struggle getting these out #im not super motivated 2 write 4 them neow... they sit casually in my head!#also theres a looming possibility that when the game is released i delete my posts #or put a warning at the beginning of all of them like. hey. the game was not out. i know im wrong here. have mercy #! really not sure whatll happen

139 notes · View notes

wings-of-ink · 5 months

Note

What would the RO's reactions to an MC who flirts 24/7. Because it's fun to see people turn red and awkward around them. But when someone reciprocates MC just turn into a mumbling red faced idiot.

Was this already asked? 😅

You’re in luck, no one has asked that yet Anon! That’s a sweet scenario too.

Oswin: It can be pretty easy to fluster Oswin. He’s out of his depth with flirting (at least intentional flirting). This would be something he would have to plan in advance. He’d come up with scenarios based on the lines MC usually uses, and have flirty comebacks in reserve to use at the right moment. During his shining moment, he finally gets to whip out a flirty one-liner he’s held on to for weeks…only for the MC to flounder in response. He likes it. He likes it so much. It gives him a little buzz, but this was a lot of work for him, lol. He won't push though.

Zahn: They are very receptive to flirting of all types. They tend to be bold and direct. Bold flirting is fun for them and it makes everything more clear. Shy flirting is also fun, and it draws a response for them that is somehow equal parts nurturing and teasing. Shyness makes them want to dig in and stir up the MC, and make them face it more (encourage them) - maybe making them more red-faced in the process (delicious).

Duri: They looove flirting, playing, and being irritating. Duri practically subsists on drawing reactions out of others. They love both bold and shy responses. Bold flirting becomes a game on a level playing field, but shy responses draw out a weird, almost predatory, instinct from them. A red-faced MC, reduced to a mess from their coy words, makes them want to press harder. They’ll escalate, get physically closer - speak in a low voice close to MC’s ear - and revel at the wind being taken from their sails.

Rune: They like to act nonplussed about MC’s flirtations to try to discourage it (but the moment it stops, they’d get anxious about it). They can flirt, they just don’t always want to…but reducing MC to a red blubbering mess makes them want to try it more often. They don’t rub it in, but merely enjoy it with a smug amount of pride. Rune is likely going to keep smiling coyly at MC all night and watch them turn red again and again.

???: “What’s this-what’s this? My sugar-tongued heartfire is all flustered? Where did all that guile go?” He’s going to gently guide MC to meet his eyes. “It seems the fire has moved from your heart to your cheeks, my dear. It looks good on you.”

Thanks for the ask Anon! Looking forward to when we can get to some fun scenes kinda like this! ^_^

#god cursed if #asks #twine if #if wip #twine wip #gc ro reactions

58 notes · View notes

alexanderwales · 2 months

Text

Pitchposting: Bad Detectives

content warning: bdsm, sexual violence, suicide, murder, police

Pitchposting is when you write about a thing that you're not going to write to exorcise the demons.

I was a big fan of the Hannibal TV show, partly because it was a bit silly. I'm worried that the thing I'm going to describe here will feel like a riff on that, but hopefully it's just an influence. The actual core of the idea came while watching Presumed Innocent.

The book follows two detectives who hunt serial killers. I'm not sure I care all that much about actual serial killers or the actual people who hunt them, though I have read a few nonfiction books from former FBI people, mostly to make sure I understand the perspective of government employees and how their process of self-mythologizing goes (for a different book). This book takes place in one of those worlds where there are a ton of serial killers, they're clever and artistic and tortured, and they're caught by looking at their signatures and through careful psychoanalysis rather than security cameras, fingerprints, and other features of the national security panopticon.

Our male lead is scruffy and tightly clenched. He's a loner. He doesn't talk much, but when he does, it's insightful and poignant. He's weird, but not in a way that maps well to any actual diagnosis. He's extremely good at getting inside the head of serial killers, understanding their patterns, knowing the things that will give them away, how they'll inevitably slip up or be caught. To the extent we get his inner thoughts, he is absolutely fucked in the head: the only reason you wouldn't call him a serial killer is that he's never actually killed anyone, and the only reason he hasn't done it is because it's wrong. He instead satisfies his urges through his job with the FBI, which allows him access to tons and tons of photographs and the chance to visit crime scenes, to talk to serial killers, to confront his darkness over and over, flirting with it. Maybe there's actually some question whether he has killed someone, and in what circumstances, if he's an Ethical Serial Killer of some kind. You can smell the frustrated impulses on him.

Our female lead is carefully put together and very cold. She's a loner. She doesn't talk much, but when she does, she's sad and distant. She's weird in a way that doesn't map to any diagnosis. She's fastidious. She has eight of the exact same suit and three pairs of the same shoes. She's extremely good at getting in the heads of serial killers, which again, is the main way that serial killers are caught in this world rather than, I don't know, loads of interviews, tip lines, etc. She is absolutely fucked in the head: she's drawn to killers like a moth to flame. She is, essentially, prey incarnate, a lamb who would willingly lie down to be brutalized by the lion. The only reason she hasn't been killed is that she has a sense of self-preservation and thinks that killing and hurting people is wrong. She satisfies her urges through her work, which gets her access to serial killers, lets her interview them, lets her see the crime scenes and imagine herself in them, etc.

I think for the purposes of pitchposting, we could stop there. Obviously we have two completely insane people in a very high-stress high-stakes job who happen to match each other in a way that no human ever actually does. They have these private inner lives that they cannot, under any circumstances, share with other people, but the central tension is that if they did share with each other, they would find that they're a perfect fit.

The scene that's been kicking around in my head is the two of them trying to recreate a crime scene together, with her in the role of victim and him in the role of perpetrator. They're in their work clothes, conservatively dressed, both playing the part of professional, and each actually thinking while they're playing it cool "wow, this is so hot, god I wish this were real".

It's basically this, as a fucked up psycosexual erotic thriller/romance:

I think as far as this core relationship goes, it's pretty solid. Both have a dark secret, their dark secrets complement each other, there's plenty of reason for both of them to misunderstand the other (because both would naturally assume that the other is repulsed rather than attracted).

But at the end of the line, I'm not sure what an ending would look like for the two of them. He's not just a sadist, he has a hunger for murder, and his whole character orientation has been around trying to satisfy those urges in other ways that don't quite work. And she's not just a masochist, she has erotic suicidality, which I might have just coined (but probably did not). The ending that their internal drives are pointing at is with him as a killer and her dead. That would be a very daring ending, and I'm not sure what it would mean ... but I also don't know what ending would work better, or even what the themes of this book would be, other than just "look at these two freaks". (And of course the audience for the book is people who see themselves in one or the other of these two freaks. I'm using "freaks" affectionately here.)

The main problem is that this is all sort of gross. Hannibal steered away from sexual violence, one major notable exception aside, vaguely implying it sometimes but often using murder as a stand-in for sex. I thought the show worked best when it was the most divorced from reality, when it was being serious about its camp. The serial murders are works of art, things of beauty, dark and horrible but also aesthetic and neatly planned.

Maybe you can do that here. Maybe serial killers in this world have absolutely no interest in sexual violence of any kind. Maybe our protagonists are vaguely sexless themselves, and when they're acting out murders together the sex stuff exists only in the mind of the reader. And then when they do have sex, if they do, then that's a stand-in for murder. This is less gross than, e.g. having sexually violent crimes that sexually excite our protagonist, at least in my opinion, maybe because that would be less divorced from reality.

A woman with an interest in getting raped is ... I mean, there are real women like that out there, ones who have that fantasy and ones who actually would want to make that fantasy a reality in some way. But a woman who thinks it's hot to be ritually stabbed fifty-two times in the stomach is less real, and her dark desire is more clearly a stand-in for other dark desires, whatever repressed urge our audience feels, or sees in others, or how we understand ourselves and our thoughts. Easier to do the mapping when it's clear that we're not mapping to anything substantially real. (Knowing humans, I am sure that there probably is someone out there with vivid fantasies about basically anything, but if I wrote the story it would be with "this is not literally about dismemberment, decapitation, vivisection, bondage, stabbing, etc." in mind.)

I think having the serial killers be over the top also helps to take you out some of what tends to be a icky about true crime. It becomes clear that this is a fantasy, that it's exploring something in our brains, rather than doing the typical procedural thing of "ripped from the headlines". These would be killers with their own weird fucked up demons they let free, artists, rather than the serial killers we get in the real world, who are mostly impulse idiots. I think it's easy to not be exploitative if you're completely divorcing yourself from reality.

I think I'm the wrong person to write this, which makes it perfect for a pitchpost. I enjoyed Hannibal, but it seems like an exhausting thing to write, and trying to strike the right balance for both main characters seems tough and like an ongoing battle I'd be fighting with every word. There'd be a risk of teetering over into grimderp shock value at every turn.

I'm trying, right now, to think about a way to have that same dynamic I like without it being some sex-murder thing, and I'm coming up blank. Two people who are serious professionals with a dark secret whose careers are ostensibly about stopping that thing ... you know, maybe just set the story in a repressive society where the things they think are horrible and would offend the other are things we maybe find a little boring or everyday, though this loses you the aspect of "our desires would literally destroy us". So I don't think it would be quite the same, but I'd be more likely to write it, rather than wallowing in the sexy murdersphere.

#hannibal #pitchpost #pitchposting #murder

50 notes · View notes

raisedbythetv89 · 1 year

Text

I’m sorry but the way buffy’s all:

UGGGHHHH I sooooooo don’t wanna have to go manhandle the hot vampire for information he’s soooo annoyingggg

Then immediately lets slip she actually does spend time thinking about what he’s up to all day in his crypt and she says she KNOWS it’s something - not creepy, not weird, NASTY 👀👀👀 😜

And then SECONDS after she says that she BARGES IN UNANNOUNCED giving Spike absolutely ZERO time to make himself decent if he was doing something. She literally bounces in and struts up to him in such a way she is getting wind machine level Beyoncé hair. Like GIRL WHAT WERE YOU HOPING TO WALK IN ON barging in without knocking 😹😹😹 which is literally the only way she ever enters his crypt… playing with fire fr

ONLY TO CHOOSE THE WORD PROPOSITION. Not “I need information, I need a favor/help” A PROPOSITION for you. Ya know like “to proposition someone” for sex…

And SPIKE just BOUNDS right up to her in a way that flexes his arm muscles in the process and gets him RIGHT in her face, saying he’s got a proposition for her too…. they did not need to be this close to talk and she doesn’t even back up at all 😹 what she does do is LOOK AWAY when he flexes his arms to propel himself up only to look back at him when he’s standing in front of her 👀 she’s like RILEY focus on RILEY do not get distracted by his arms LOOK AWAY

The SLAP instead of a punch??? He looks SHOCKED that it was a slap instead of a punch when he literally just called her boyfriend an enormous hall monitor and asked tauntingly if he was gonna die and all it elicits is a slap that doesn’t even have full slayer strength behind it 😹😹😹 like this is basically a love tap for them when we see a shove from her send him FLYINGGG across the room when she really means it in “Smashed”

AND THEN SHE’S LIKE “I’D BE DATING SPIKE” as her attempt at reassurance to Riley that super strength isn’t what she cares about BUT IF IT WAS it would in fact be Spike 👀 like she had that alternative READDDDY to go. To me this says she’s thought about what would life be like if she had started dating Spike after “something blue” instead of Riley. Probably since she found out Riley was a demon hunter and no longer the “normal” option between the two which was Riley’s biggest appeal to her as part of her attempt to show she had “normal” taste in men after thoroughly enjoying being all over Spike in “something blue” (as I talked about in a previous post)

Also Spike isn’t the only one showing off his arms!! Buffy has her jacket on to go look for Riley but is just in her white tank and red leather pants to flirt TALK with Spike. Which literally is showing more skin, but ALSO is a physical representation of the relationship she’s always had with spike that revolves around vulnerability and the differences in her behavior between Riley & Spike with how vulnerable she is this season but even as far back as season three when she says she can’t lie to herself OR SPIKE.

AND the fact that Spike is in a different outfit in his dream but Buffy isn’t 👀 he was checking her OUTTT in that outfit and even though he saw her with her jacket on at the hospital he’s dreaming about how she looked when she came looking for him. Also the way she’s just BATHED in light when she first walks in UGH 😻😻😻 looking like a leather clad angel of death sent to destroy the version of spike created by Angel and Drusilla’s abuse bit by bit. I quite literally could not be more obsessed with them

#istg these posts always start relatively short #spuffy #spike btvs #spike and buffy #btvs season 5 #out of my mind btvs #5.04 btvs #spuffy deep dive #spuffy meta

387 notes · View notes

riotlain · 2 years

Text

TWD crushing on (an Oblivious) Reader

YOOO WE KINDA DUMB

upset there isnt alot of twd x male reader fics that arent smut but anyways

my very select few men💀💀 i might do a part 2 i just wanted to post

THIS IS A NWLNW BLOG!! WOMEN DNI

Daryl Dixon

Our man Mr. Daryl Hiding His Emotions Dixon 🫶🫶

Its fine you didn't notice at first

He seems like he kinda hates you from how quiet he is. Quite the opposite

Being quite in love with someone who isnt a woman is kinda just like. Not processed in his mind??

He didn't know how to feel at first

But eventually he confessed to Carol about how he feels (she suspected something but anyways)

To be honest he had a plan to ask you out

But was extremely extremely hesitant

"They prolly don' even like guys" He'd say

I think both of yall are oblivious

It was a group effort to get yall together

Like all these long ass runs, leaving gifts saying it was from the other

You probably had to be the one to confess ngl

Glenn Rhee

Glenn aint too obvious. Thats what he tells himself atleast

Hes very obviously crushing on you. The only one who cant see it is you

He'd pull harmless pranks, compliment you, help you around, usually adding on a lil wink for lil extra

Yet you still didn't get it. You just thought he was being a goody good friend

Especially since its a bit hard to find any queer folk that like you around here IN FUCKING VIRGINIA/GEORGIA

"You look nice today, Y/n." *Shitty Glenn wink* "Oh thanks man!"

Your obviousness is apart of what Glenn absolutely loved about you though

It gives him time to really think out his lil confession

Which took a while but he had it down! Flowers!!

Who doesnt like flowers??

Well Glenn originally planned to give you flowers. That was until Eugene let it slip that he likes you one time💀💀

You ended up interrupting Glenn like mid confession just because you knew

Simon

Negan teases him for his obviousness

Simon would yell it to the top of his lungs if he must (he probably has to)

Always gives you any ice cream or first shot of a drink

He also always has his arm around you or is LITERALLY FLIRTING WITH YOU

You couldnt tell tho. he looked gay and homophobic to be honest.

So you just didnt say anything

Simon, running out of ideas, asked Negan for any ideas

Since its, Negan what do you expect? Something cute and romantic?? No

SHOW OFF YOUR SEXUAL PROWESS OF COURSE‼️

So with this in mind Simon approached your room with some drinks and did what he does best!

Sexual jokes about his dick and such seeing if you'd take the bait

You didn't you just got a bit flustered and laughed along

Until yknow he actually just went with the impulse and kissed you

FINALLY YOU GET THAT HES LIKE IN LOVE WITH YOU

Owen (Wolf)

The king of being either really obvious or the complete opposite

Depending on your guy's situation then heres the various ways itll go down

Owens a prisoner in Alexandria? He'll tell you nearly everything about him. Along with the fact if he gets out of there hes taking you with him!

How romantic!!

If youre apart of the Wolves then you have for sure caught his eye!

He'd do anything for you and I mean anything! Well as long as he's yknow still in control of the situation.

You cant ignore him either. He'll make as much noise as possible for you to go back to talking to him.

Owen will try to stalk you to see what you like

Or try to get that info out of you through a weird interrogation

You dont notice though. If anything youre a bit weirded out that this kinda crazy cult guy is like asking you your favorite color but anyways

Eventually in the middle of one of these investigations hes just gonna kiss you (probably quite roughly too)

"I like you. So youre mine now." "I- Ok sure??"

#simon twd x reader #twd x male reader #twd x reader #daryl dixon x male reader #daryl dixon x reader #wolf twd #owen twd #glenn rhee x male reader #glenn rhee x reader #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead x male reader

676 notes · View notes

autisticlancemcclain · 2 years

Text

“Anyone seen Lance?” Shiro asks, checking his watch. “We have to suit up in an hour, but I haven’t heard anything from him.”

No sooner do the words come out of his mouth does the man in question stroll into the kitchen, pausing in front of the table where everyone is gathered and clearing his throat.

“I will not be accompanying you guys on the mission,” he announces.

It takes everyone a moment to process that one. Hunk is the first to react, something clicking in his expression before he groans, resting his forehead on the table.

“Here we go,” he mutters tiredly.

Lance happily ignores him, pouring himself some food goo and taking a seat next to Keith.

“Are you ill?” Allura asks, when Lance fails to provide any further context.

“Nope! I’m just going to hang back from this mission because I Saw what’s going to happen last night and no part of me is interested in crawling through sewage. Y’all have fun, though.”

“Why the hell do you think we’ll be crawling through sewage?” Keith asks. “All the Yuvleans want us to do is find some crystal for them.”

“And I’m telling you it’s going to involve crawling through the sewage system,” Lance insists. “I’m not doing that. I’ll stay on the castle with Coran and do chores, or something.”

Shiro looks pleadingly to Hunk.

“Please translate,” he asks.

This is not unusual. Lance and Hunk frequently have to explain each other’s trains of thought to the team at large.

“Lance thinks he can see the future,” Hunk explains tiredly. “He is not a Seer. He just gets lucky, occasionally, and he’s observant. There is nothing I can do to convince him otherwise.”

“That’s because you’re wrong,” Lance says patiently. “I do so get visions. I told you about the mermaid planet when we were fifteen, remember?”

“Lance, you dreamed once about alien mermaids and the universe is so batshit insane that it ended up being true. That is not predicting the future.”

“Mhm, sure. And the fact that I knew the names of the mermaids we could trust was coincidence.”

“Exactly!”

Hunk and Pidge both look exasperated, but Keith looks intrigued.

“You can really tell the future?”

“Please tell me you don’t believe in that shit too,” Pidge groans.

Both paladins ignore her.

“Not as clearly as you’re thinking,” Lance says, making a so-so motion with his hand. “I don’t usually get full detailed visions, although I do occasionally. Usually I get bits and pieces, right before something happens. Like, if we’re on an infiltration mission and we don’t know which hallway to take to escape, I usually get a flash of images that tell me what’s down each one.”

Shiro, who had been eyeing Lance warily for the most part, tilts his head in consideration. “You do manage to lead us out of ships when everything goes to shit.”

Hunk looks at him incredulously. “You too?! What part of ‘Lance has good instincts and is crazy observant’ am I making unclear? Science, people!”

“I’m not saying I think he can see in the future,” Shiro says hastily. “But I’m not saying he can’t, either.”

“Thank you,” Lance says emphatically. “Finally, someone believes me.”

“Hey,” Keith protests. “I believed you the whole time!”

“‘Course, Mullet,” Lance says with a grin and a wink. Keith goes a little red. “I appreciate it.”

“I also believe you!” Allura says excitedly. “One of my mother’s handmaidens also spoke of an ability to see forward in time, and she often made excellent predictions about future trades!”

“Ha,” Lance says, pointing his spork triumphantly at his best friends. Both of them roll their eyes in tandem. “Coran believes me, too. Said he can feel it in my quintessence, or something. You guys are outnumbered.”

“Whatever,” Pidge mutters, but she doesn’t really look all that annoyed. “I can’t believe you’re skipping the chance to flirt with pretty aliens just because you had a weird dream. I can’t believe you’re staying back to do chores instead of prancing around the planet’s canals and comparing the water to beaches back home.”

Lance shrugs, standing up to dunk his empty bowl in the sink. “Like I said, I’m not crawling through the sewer,” he says, heading for the doors. “But y’all have fun. Let me know if you meet the ninja turtles.”

———

Hours later, five very grumpy, very dirty paladins stomp their way back to the castle. Lance and Coran meet them at the decontamination chamber.

“Have a shitty time?” Lance asks smugly.

“Dollar in the bad pun jar,” Keith says immediately, just as Hunk says: “Can it, Cassandra.”

Hunk sounds cranky as he says it, but instead of being offended, Lance only laughs.

“Fitting,” he taunts, “since no one believed Cassandra and she ended up being right. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it, Hunky?”

Hunk levels him with a glare, but only lasts about three seconds before a reluctant smile spreads across his face.

“Alright, alright, touché. I still think you just made an educated guess. But I’ll give you that one.”

“Sure thing, bud. I’ve Seen the day you and Pidge believe me, you know. I’m going to be very smug.”

“More smug than right now?” Allura asks.

Lance smirks. “Exponentially.”

———

Shiro doesn’t let Lance skip any more missions because of his Sight. “If a mission is going to suck, then we get to suffer as a group. Team building,” he reasons.

He still doesn’t quite believe that Lance can See the future. But he does start to take Lance’s input in mission planning, so long as Lance can actually rationalize his predictions.

“That’s not going to work,” Lance says firmly, tapping the path Shiro has drawn down a hallway on the blueprints of the Galran cruiser they’re planning to infiltrate. “If we split up, Allura is going to get ambushed and hurt.”

Shiro inclines his head. “Reasoning?”

Lance pauses for a moment to study the blueprints further, trying to figure out why he knows that to be true. He saw the altercation in a vision, of course, but over the weeks of planning with Shiro he’s found that his divinations often follow a largely logical path of reasonings, Sherlock-style.

“This is a Druid-heavy cruiser,” he says finally. “See how the energy systems are rerouted to neutralize more power outbursts than usual? That means a lot of raw quintessence outside of its usual transport containers, which means Druids. And you know how freaky they are about trying to isolate Allura and take her for her quintessence abilities. She shouldn’t spend a second on this ship alone, and especially not down the corridors that are most heavily fortified and monitored. She’s our strongest, but in this case it will only make her a target.”

“Sounds good to me,” Shiro says, placing a proud hand on Lance’s shoulder. “We’ll work out something better, huh?”

———

It’s no secret that Lance spends at least two nights a week at the observation deck; missing his family and falling asleep to the projection of Earth’s steady turn. The team has quietly worked out something like a schedule, making sure he’s never there alone, and everyone makes sure he knows he knows they love him and are there for him.

Lance pretends to be oblivious to the schedule. He saw it in a dream before he’d even met most of the team, but he likes that they try so hard to keep it quiet anyway. It’s sweet.

“Do you know why I’m like this?” he asks one night, when Coran is the one to follow him in.

The advisor takes a moment to consider the question carefully, humming softly.

“I felt something different about you the second I saw you,” he says eventually. He huffs a laugh. “That’s half the reason I was so defensive of you.”

Lance snorts, remembering Coran’s flailing and threats. “I thought it was because I made eyes at Allura.”

Coran grins, checking him gently across the shoulders. “That, too, lad.” His expression turns more serious, pondering. “But I’ve always been very in tune with the energies of the universe, the balance of quintessence in every single thing that takes space. My father taught me to sit quietly with the space between things, to feel how they fit together. You, my dear —” he shifts to look at Lance directly, jewelled eyes meeting deep brown — “your quintessence reaches farther than most. For whatever reason, your soul is stretched wide, across space and time. Everyone’s is, to some degree, but yours more so. For whatever reason, when you came to be, the universe saw fit to grant you the burden of Knowing.”

He takes one of Lance’s hands in his, squeezing gently. “It’s a lot of responsibility, child. But there’s no one I would trust more to shoulder it with grace.”

———

Usually, Lance’s Gift is harmless. It doesn’t matter who on the team does or does not believe — it never has a great enough bearing on their life and mission to make a massive decision.

Until it does.

Until Lance stops mid-attack, freezing in his lion, shout ringing through the comms.

“Lance, come in,” Shiro demands. “What’s wrong?”

Everyone’s screen flickers for a moment before Lance’s comm feed pulls up, brown eyes wide and panicked, terror written all across his face.

“We need to pull back!” he says frantically. “Now, now, now!”

“We can’t pull back now!” Pidge protests. “That ship has the closest guarantee to finding Matt than any other we’ve found so far, and our intel guarantees we outmatch them!”

“I Saw differently, they have —”

Pidge bares her teeth at him. “If you think I’m giving up on my brother because you think you can tell the future —”

“You have to trust me,” Lance begs. “The entire fleet is a setup. All the fighter jets are manned by sentries, there’s not a single soldier on board the commanding ship. It’s a giant bomb. The second we touch it it’s going to blow so big it’ll start a new solar system. Please.”

“Lance, now is not the time —” Shiro interjects.

“I know, but —”

“We have every guarantee from the Blades that my brother may very well be on that ship!” Pidge says shrilly. “I know you think you can see the future Lance, but I just can’t trust that!”

“I’m not asking you to trust it,” Lance says again, more and more desperate by the second. “I’m asking you to trust me. And I promise you, Pidge, if we move forward than every single one of us is going to die.”

Tears drip from Pidge’s eyes. Her face crumples.

“Why are you making me choose between my brother and the team?” she sobs.

“Please trust me,” Lance begs again.

She swipes a hand across her eyes.

“If you’re wrong, I’m never going to forgive you.”

As soon as she says the words, Lance is yelling for everyone to pull back. Shiro echoes him, and the retreat back to the castle. As Allura opens a wormhole, the entire fleet starts to blow, every explosion tripping the ship next to it, until the entirety of the blackness of space is ignited in bright white flame and incinerating debris.

They barely make it through the wormhole in one piece.

———

“I still don’t believe you,” Pidge says stubbornly, once her tears have dried and they’re all safe in their hangars.

Lance smiles softly. “Thank you for trusting me anyway.”

———

Hours after everyone else has fallen asleep, after the last movie for movie night has ended, Keith and Lance sit facing each other on a mound of blankets, knees pulled up their their chins and arms held tightly around their legs.

“Your turn,” Keith whispers.

Lance hums. “How many questions do I have left?”

“We passed twenty forever ago. I think we’re just getting to know each other, now.”

“Oh.”

“Is that okay?”

Lance hides a grin in his pajama-covered knees. “Yeah.”

“Good. Ask your question, doofus. You’re taking forever.”

“‘Kay. How come you pretended not to recognize me when we were rescuing Shiro?”

Keith’s face flames. “I really didn’t recognize you!” he insists.

Lance shakes his head. “We had four group projects together, and you smirked at me after no less than twelve flight sims. I’m not buying it, Samurai.”

Keith holds his gaze for several minutes, glaring stubbornly. But finally he deflates.

“Fine,” he concedes. “I remember you. But if I tell you why I pretended to forget, you have to promise not to get mad, okay?”

“Fine, fine. Just tell me already.”

Keith looks away. He’s quiet for long enough that Lance reaches over to pinch him for not answering.

“Jesus, okay! I’m getting there.” He bites his lip. “Do you remember that dumbass line you used to say? About threading the needle?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“Uh. I didn’t get it for a long time. I thought —” he grimaces, accepting Lance’s oncoming diva fit — “I thought your name was Taylor. So.”

To his surprise, Lance bursts out laughing.

“You dumbass! Did you really?”

“It was a valid assumption!” Keith defends. “You said that people called you tailor! What was I supposed to think?”

“Our names are right next to each other on roll call,” Lance chokes out, wiping a tear from his eye. He flashes a teasing grin as he slowly starts to calm down. “Guess there’s I reason I usually did better on the practicals, huh?”

“Oh, shut up,” Keith says, scowling. “You barely did better.”

“Neck and neck,” Lance teases.

“Yeah, yeah, cargo pilot. Whatever you say.”

They’re both quiet for a moment, silence interrupted only by Shiro’s horrible snoring and Lance’s occasional giggle.

“It’s your turn,” he says, once he’s finally gotten himself under control. Keith rolls his eyes, but asks anyway.

“How come you don’t flirt with random aliens anymore?”

To his surprise, the question makes Lance flush darkly. He looks away, picking at his nails.

“I, uh, Saw that I end up with someone soon. Feels disrespectful to flirt knowing I’m gonna be with him any time now.”

Keith’s breath hitches. “Him?”

“Them,” Lance corrects hastily, but the damage is already done.

“Who is he? Do I —”

“Game’s over,” Lance says hastily. “I just had a vision. If we keep playing you’re going to choke to death and die after I make an excellent joke, so. Better safe than sorry.”

“You’re so full of shit,” Keith accuses, but Lance has never been wrong before, so he hesitates.

Lance notices, doubling down. “Yep. I try to give you the Heimlich and everything, but it doesn’t work. You die in minutes. Gotta prevent that.”

“Fine,” Keith says sullenly. “I guess we should go to sleep then.”

“Probably,” Lance agrees, audibly relieved. “Don’t want you to die or anything.”

His face is red until the second he falls asleep.

———

Lance has his impulsive moments, sure. But the real impulsive members of the team are Keith or Pidge, no question about it. They are the king and queen of dumbass, split-second decisions.

When Lance gets a vision, mid-fight, on a planet so overrun with Galran soldiers that ‘outnumbered’ does not begin to cover it, he kicks both of those losers off their thrones by a goddamn mile.

“Lance!” Allura yells, once she realizes he’s breaking formation. “What the quiznack are you doing?”

“The witch controls it all,” he gasps out, to quiet for anyone to hear. He ignores the shouts of his team, ignores their questions, ignores his own guilt for leaving them so abruptly, and books it, as fast as he can, straight towards the cluster of Druids. They stand in a perfect circle, all perfectly still, tendrils of lightning quintessence pouring out of them faster than Lance can track, all tunnelling towards where Zarkon stands suspended above them all, sending deadly bolts of attack at Voltron and their scrambling allies down below. Every time a Druid drops, their very life force drained from them, a new one fills their place, as quickly as possible.

But Lance doesn’t need to see what’s in the centre of their circle with his eyes. He’s Seen it. He knows who lies in the middle of the cluster, who is pulling the strings between the entire empire, who has been this entire time.

As he runs, he feels his bayard warm in his hand, feels the form change from the barrel of his beloved gun to something sturdy, smooth, curved. When he glances down, he sees the familiar contour of a bow.

It’s too simple.

Far too simple.

But Lance trusts himself. He trusts the universe, and the responsibility Coran says it has granted him. He knows it would not lie to him.

He stops hundreds of feet before the cluster of Druids, standing firm as they all turn to face him in unison. He does not flinch when they raise their arms towards him, does not move when Zarkon turns to face him, raw quintessence lighting up his arms as he takes aim directly where Lance stands.

Lance breathes in. He aims the bow high in the sky, not at the Druids, not at Zarkon, but where he knows the arrow will arch gracefully, and make it’s deadly decent: landing dead in the centre of the Druids, where Haggar stands, unfocused on the sky above her.

Lance exhales.

He fires.

He hears a wicked shriek echo louder than any person every could, just as Zarkon’s final blast hits him square in the chest.

His own agonized screams drown out the terrified yells of his team.

———

You’d think it would be quiet, death. It’s the absence of life, after all. The cease of all movement. The end of one’s time.

It’s not.

Lance feels every one of his cells as they sizzle and fry, his very molecules tearing themselves apart as the blast of quintessence breaks easily through his armour. He feels every part of his body and soul incinerate out of existence.

It sounds like one long, shrill screech of brakes stopping abruptly.

It hurts.

———

“There’s no way he’s going to survive that! It’s a waste of time to hope!”

“How can you say that? How dare you say that?

“You think I want to? You think I want this? His very soul was fried, Keith! He is my best friend, he is my brother, but I am not going to put myself or anyone else through the pain of hoping!”

“The pain of hoping is the only thing that can make the pain of giving up feel better!”

———

Coming back to life is shockingly silent, in contrast. Still, too. He knows he’s not dead — he can’t be, if he’s thinking — but he can’t feel any further than that.

Everything is quiet.

———

It’s barely noticeable, when he can finally feel again. The faintest brush of a hand through his hair, a whisper, the press of lips to his forehead.

Then nothing, again.

———

“You’re going to make it, Lance. I’ll kill you if you don’t, you dumbass, selfless bastard.”

———

By the time he can finally move again, he feels like he’s lived four thousand lives. It’s the barest twitch of his finger, but it makes someone gasp, and then there’s a hand grasping his.

“C’mon, Lance,” it says quietly. “Prove me wrong, okay? About Seeing and living and everything. Please. Show me how wrong I was. I’ll even let you gloat forever, okay? I’ll never complain again. I’m sorry.”

Lance tries his hardest to move further, to squeeze Hunk’s hand; hell, even to twitch his finger again.

Nothing.

“That’s okay,” Hunk assures quietly. There’s a slight pressure on his head, briefly, and the scent of Hunk’s face cream and motor oil, and then it’s gone.

“Take your time, okay? I’ll be here. We all will.”

———

The first person Lance sees when he finally opens his eyes again is Allura. He can’t make his mouth move, can’t call out, but he doesn’t have to — she smiles softly at him, never moving her hand from his hair.

“It’s good to see those eyes again,” she whispers. “We’ve missed you, Lance. You think you can try moving your hand? I’ll help you, if you like.”

Lance screws his eyes shut — not because he wants to, he doesn’t, he’s only just opened them, he never wants to close them again — but he can’t seem to stop himself. It takes so much effort just to lift his hand a millimeter up from the mattress it rests on.

“Good!” Allura says, and when Lance forces his eyes open again he sees that she’s smiling much brighter, now, although tears drip down her cheeks.

“You’re so much closer every day, asteraki. In a couple weeks you’ll be all healed up, I’m sure. Okay?”

Lance still can’t make his mouth move, but he manages a hum. That makes her smile wider.

———

Allura is not entirely correct. He is not entirely healed in a couple weeks. But he gets closer and closer every day. After one week, he can move his hands, even though they shake. After two, he can speak, although his voice is raspier than the desert.

The first thing he asks for is an update — did he do it? Did it work?

“Zarkon and Haggar crumbled to dust,” Shiro assures him. “The second your arrow struck. Ten thousand years caught up to them, I guess. The Druids died, too. The Empire hasn’t really gone anywhere, but it’s in chaos. No one knows what to do. Planets are revolting left and right.”

He squeezes Lance’s hands, lifting one up to press a kiss to his knuckles.

“You did it, kiddo. You and that goddamned gift of yours.”

———

It takes months. Months of physical therapy, if speech therapy, of disgusting nutrient-rich diets and fine-motor training that frustrates Lance to tears.

It works, though. Over time, he starts to come back to himself. Not everything is fixed — he needs hearing aids, now, because he was so close to Haggar’s final scream that it shattered his ear drums. His hair is bleached white, too, and lightning-shaped scars run up and down his skin — Shiro jokes that they should start a club. He’s unbelievably lucky that he regains all the mobility in his hands. He still speaks in a stutter, and he likely will for the rest of his life.

But he’s fuckin’ alive, goddamnit, so he’s sure as shit not complaining.

His visions stop coming, too.

He doesn’t mind.

“You were right, though,” Hunk says.

As promised.

“You really could see the fuckin’ future. I’ll be damned.”

“This moment was slightly less depressing in my vision,” Lance says, grinning wryly. “All I got were those two sentences. Who know I almost had to die to get ‘em.”

Hunk glares, flicking him lightly in the forehead. “Too soon, buddy.”

“It’s been half a goddamn year since I got nuked!”

“It will be too soon for the rest of our lives. Your lucky I didn’t build you the safety bubble I wanted to build you, you menace.”

“He really was going to,” Pidge pipes up. “I had to pry the blueprints from his hands.”

Lance tips an imaginary hat. “And I thank you for your service.”

“Whatever, goober,” she says, rolling her eyes, but she’s smiling.

———

There’s nothing strange about the knock on his door. Keith knocks as he always does: just one singular knock, to make people on edge, because he thinks it’s funny.

But Lance freezes.

Because he recognises this feeling, the intense feeling of déjà vù mixed with clear memory — one of his old visions is playing out.

And there’s only one outstanding vision of his that takes place in his bedroom, with Keith, as he’s folding laundry.

“Come in,” he squeaks, desperately trying to compose himself and fight the blush off his face and failing horribly.

Keith steps in and immediately starts helping Lance with the laundry, even though he’s horrible at it and always insists that closets have more space if you roll up clothes instead of folding them.

Menace boy.

He’s quiet for a long moment, rolling laundry until Lance smacks him, and then begrudgingly folding it.

“Did you See this?” he asks eventually.

“Yes,” Lance admits, because he sees no reason to lie.

“Then you know what I’m going to say.”

“I do.”

Keith’s hands finally still, and he sighs, finally looking over at Lance with a smile that shows the barest peek of his crooked incisors. “That doesn’t make it easier, somehow.”

Lance’s belly curls, like he always does when Keith smiles at him like that. He tries to remind himself that he is a grown ass man and he does not need to swoon like a preteen when his crush looks at him, thanks. He forces himself to set the laundry down and take a step towards Keith.

“You should say it anyway.”

Keith hums, closing the distance between them and placing on hand on Lance’s hip.

“Is that how we’re gonna play it, Sharpshooter? You’re not gonna have mercy on me?”

Lance’s breath hitches. “Not for a second.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Keith mumbles, and then his other hand cups Lance’s cheek and he doesn’t waste a second before pressing their lips together, firmly, like he knows Lance can take it.

“I’m in love with you, Lance. I want to be yours. Sound alright?”

“I suppose I could live with it,” Lance rasps, completely unable to dodge the flick that Keith aims for his head when they stand so close.

He decides he doesn’t mind, though, not when Keith shuts up any further teasing with another press of their lips together.

And another.

It’s just as good as Lance knew it would be.

403 notes · View notes

londondziban · 11 months

Text

I'll forever be confused over the writing of Steve's character in season 4. Like, what was the thought process behind the choices that were made for him?

In season 1, he was shown to have a change of behavior, felt remorse for his actions, attempted to apologize to not just Nancy but also Jonathan, and bought a camera for Jonathan to replace the one he had broken. Not only this, but he had turned back around to help Nancy and Jonathan–after having a gun pointed at him and nearly getting eaten by a creature he probably couldn't fully comprehend at the time–despite the fact he was scared shitless cuz, hey, that's his girl in there and a guy he may not know very well but he's not going to let them fight the monster alone.

In season 2, we watched him grieve his relationship with Nancy and form a bond with Dustin and the other kids. Though he was clearly upset about the breakup, he never once truly blamed Nancy for it. We saw him respect not only Nancy's feelings but her choice as well. He knew he wasn't the one she chose, he knew she was struggling and turned to Jonathan. He was heartbroken but he did his best to move forward and keep his mind on the mission at hand.

In season 3, we watch his bond with Dustin develop further and we see him make his first friend that's (close) to his age since he dropped his previous friends in season 1. He was actively looking for a new girl to date and developed feelings for Robin; We were led to believe he'd moved on from Nancy. In this season, though he was fairly removed from the other kids for most of it, we were once again shown he has a selfless nature when it comes to them, even Erica whom he barely knew. We saw that at the end of the day, he's simply a good friend through his instant support of Robin rather than lashing out over the rejection or being flat-out homophobic. He's selfless and loyal to those he cares about. His character in this season was wonderful (not talking about how his injuries were constantly played for laughs though, that's for a future post).

So in season 4...what happened? Yeah, I still loved him because he's Steve and I've become attached to his character over the years. But he just felt so off? I'm glad his friendship with Robin was still there and I loved them together throughout the season. But he's 1. suddenly in love with Nancy again, 2. doesn't seem to respect her actual feelings nor her relationship with Jonathan (because if he did he wouldn't be actively flirting with her and telling her he wants to have kids with her, hello?), 3. he complained about being with the kids despite being shown to deeply care for them over and over again (it could've been a joke of course but it just felt mean spirited when compared to his behaviors in prior seasons. Like he sighed when being paired with Dustin?), and 4. he just felt kind of weird and a little creepy at times.

It felt like they didn't know what to do with him this last season. It felt like all the development he'd gone through suddenly took a left turn and then backtracked out of nowhere. Instead of finding ways to discuss the way season 3 events affected him (and Robin) or maybe showing him form a genuine bond with Eddie (someone else his age that he never would've previously been friends with), they made him a little mean spirited, they made the other characters be meaner to him and treat him as if he's stupid (more than usual), and they made him be in love with Nancy again. They could've done so much with his character that wouldn't have contradicted all of his growth, and yet.

I say this all with good intentions, of course. I love Steve. He was one of my favorites when I first started watching the show. Which is why I was so upset about the way they wrote his character in season 4. He just didn't feel like the Steve I'd loved anymore. Was it a conscious decision? Is there a specific reason behind it we just haven't been shown yet? Or was it just poor writing? I hope whatever is going on with his character is either fixed or simply explained in season 5 (and I'm so excited to see he'll have at least one interaction with Jonathan!). I'm just a little worried they've run out of ideas for his character and are just going to kill him off next season without any explanation as to why his character took the turn it did.

TLDR: I love Steve but the way his character was written in season 4 confused me.

#free my boy #i love him but i'm so confused man #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things 1 #stranger things 2 #stranger things 3 #stranger things 4 #stranger things 5 #stonathan #< target audience #byler #< target audience

105 notes · View notes

0nlythrowharrybeaux · 1 year

Note

Hellooo i’m sending you a request if you’re up for it (it’s heavy, sorry 😑) What if Y/N and Harry were good friends and a bit more, but she has been sexually molested as a child and she has never told anyone apart from her mom and her therapist. And they’re coming home from a very cute date but she starts feeling really bad when they start making out and he wants more… (I’m not sure if she’d tell him though)

Hello friend! Yes of course! I think it's important to have stories like this revolving around traumas and painful situations that are very real and that so many people have experienced and it's important to acknowledge that. I appreciate you sending this request in! I apologize for the delay, I've been so busy so it took me a bit to have some time to sit down and write this I definitely didn't want to half-ass something this important, so thank you for your patience. I I hope it lives up to your expectations 🫶🏻

And of course, if you or someone you know has been SA'ed it is never too late to get the mental health help you need to start the healing process and to work through this trauma. You deserve closure, healing, and all of the unconditional love & support that therapy can provide! ��

Warnings: Mentions of childhood SA (nothing detailed, it's more of a narrative timeline) but can be extremely triggering, description of panic attack symptoms

Truthfully, Y/N had been really nervous to date Harry. He was one of her best friends ever and she was just nervous that if they crossed that line and didn’t actually work that it would make their friendship weird for a bit. However, that wasn’t the case at all. Harry had been extremely thoughtful with how they transitioned from friends to more. They already spent a lot of time together, but he was far more intentional to adding alone time with her now. And when they would it was easier for them to flirt, to touch, to openly show their feelings for each other without their friends teasing them about it or something. It was really nice; it felt so natural to hold hands to be nonstop giggling and making eyes at each other. They had so much fun together.

“It’s not a competition, you know?” Harry mumbled softly as he briefly glanced over to the ceramic mug she was painting and he chuckled.

“It never is when you’re not the best at something.” She teased with a giggle and he scoffed and she peered up at him to see him playfully glaring at her.

“I’m just not artsy or creative in this respect.” He defended himself.

“Neither am I. I just steal creative people’s ideas off of Pinterest.” She said as she painted another little smiley face onto her mug and he chuckled.

“Despicable.” He muttered as he just made another big stroke onto his mug. He had just gone for a vertical rainbow theme because he couldn’t be arsed with all the little details that she was working on. She giggled as she put the finishing touches on her mug. She hadn’t even done anything that complex. Her mug was a white base color and she had just drawn a bunch of little colorful smiley faces around it.

“What color should I do the handle?” She asked and he glanced up at her work.

“Mmm… the yellow.” He suggested. And she hummed and went straight for that color and started painting the handle. “Are we exchanging mugs?” She asked.

“If you want to.” Harry responded as he added his final layer to the color he has just put down.

“Just so we have little reminders of each other.” She shrugged and he smiled.

“You already live in my head rent free, love” He assured flirtatiously, “But I’m not opposed to more.” He added.

“Settled then.” She smiled as she put the paintbrush down.

After another few minutes they were turning their mugs in to the girl up front and she let them know they could come by in a couple of days to pick up their mugs. They thanked her and left the little shop. Harry's arm draped over her shoulder and pulled her close as they made the walk back to his car.

"Are you hungry at all? Even just for a snack? Or do you want to come back to mine for a drink and a film? Or I can just drop you off at home." he said and she leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked.

She wanted to go to his and watch a film but she was nervous that it would lead to more. Harry was really respectful though and she felt comfortable around him and quite safe, which would be enough to make anyone else just trust him and agree to going over. But that's the issue, she had felt safe around the people in her life growing up only for someone to violate that trust. And logically she knew Harry would never even think of doing something to hurt her but a part of her would always be on the fence, she couldn't trust anyone blindly ever again.

"Y/N?" he asked again she snapped out of her thoughts.

"Oh ummm, let's just go to yours." she said to him and he nodded. She just decided to do what she wanted to do because she deserved a shot at a normal relationship. She deserved to be with someone that made her happy. She deserved to feel beautiful and desired by someone who she also saw in the same way. She deserved to be happy.

Being a single mom and mother to three daughters, her mom had been so thorough and open about SA and about what was considered inappropriate for any man or woman to say or do to them at any age. And she had told them that if anything ever happened to any of them that they could trust each other and that they would always believe each other. Y/N was only 10 when a close family friend molested her, so when this man had done what he did she was fully aware that he had in fact molested her. She was afraid to say anything because he had threatened her and warned her about what would happen if she told anyone. In her mind she thought this meant that it was a one time thing and that he'd leave her alone from then on. But then he came back a second time and a third time. But that third time was when he decided to get personal satisfaction out of it and she knew that he only escalate his actions from then on so despite all the fear in her body she told her mom immediately after and she took the necessary legal steps and got her in to see a therapist just a week later. People assumed that speaking up sooner somehow "helps" survivors, but in reality that's a bunch of bullshit. You could speak up right away but that thing still happened to you. Whether it's happened once or multiple times, you're still affected by it. The man even went to jail, but that didn't take away that part of her that she felt had been stolen from her.

During her Uni years she joined a therapy and support group of adult survivors of childhood SA and in hearing the stories of some of the people there she felt like she wasn't trying hard enough to overcome her own trauma. She just needed to take matters into her own hands and move on. So she started to see a guy that she really liked and she fell in love with him and she decided that she wanted him to be her first. She knew she wasn't ready for sex, but she loved the guy so she thought she'd at least try. And things were alright until he was about to finish and she just had to stop. She had a full blown panic attack and after that time she just kept to herself. Her friends would always try and set her up with people but she didn't want to explain everything to them. She mainly talked her to mum, sisters, or therapist about it when she needed to talk about it. She didn't want people to look at her like she a victim or like something was wrong with her. She had come through a lot of her trauma, but sometimes she'd experience the hurt again or get triggered by things and it felt like she'd made no progress at all. It was a long uphill battle.

So when Harry asked her out she immediately talked to her therapist about it because she wanted this to work with him. She met Harry in school when they were about 12. Their family had moved after what had been done to her and he was one of the first friends she'd made in school. They'd grown up together, they'd been friends forever, and while she had liked him on and off for many years, when he asked her out he told her that he'd loved her since they were 16 years old and that he had never tried anything before because he wanted to have his shit together when they finally dated and well, it was mostly together now. She was working extra hard in therapy because she didn't want to have a panic attack when he was about to blow his load again. She craved to be physically intimate with him and she wanted to be ready when the time came. She was in love with him and well, he was in love with her, it was the natural next step.

"You're so quiet, love. What's on your mind?" Harry asked her as his thumb rubbed along the side of her hand.

"Oh nothing, just thinking about random stuff." she said with a small smile and he nodded, but he wasn't sure that it was nothing.

They'd known each other for a really long time and upon them changing the nature of their relationship she became a bit more guarded than she had been in the past. It was subtle, but he knew her well and he noticed it quickly. He knew he needed to build trust with her as a partner as well, because they had it as friends, but this was an even more multifaceted and complex relationship than just a friendship. Harry wanted to build the rest of his life with her and he was eager to prove to her that he could make her happy in every way.

"Do you want tea or coffee? I also have..." he paused as he opened up his fridge, "Beer." he said as he turned to her and she smiled.

"I'm alright." she assured as she slipped out of her sneakers and padded over to the kitchen after him, "Maybe just a snack?" she asked as she meandered to his little pantry and she looked inside and saw a bag of chips. "May I?" she asked showing him.

"Course." he assured and so they headed off to his bedroom.

They got comfy and he switched on the TV before they settled on "She's the Man" a classic really. They were sitting close, the sexual tension brewing, simmering steadily between them. He knew that Y/N didn't really date all that much and that she also didn't sleep with people for fun so he didn't want to move to quickly when she was evidently more slow about that so he was pleasantly surprised when she called his name and just looked at him for a moment before she reached up to kiss him. He kissed her back tenderly, but kiss after kiss, things started to escalatate.

Y/N's body was buzzing, she wanted him so badly. She was turned on, which was not something that happened to her often. And she couldn't help it but desire to be closer to him. It was completely instinctual when she reached around his neck and pulled him down to her as she settled herself into his mattress. Their lips smeared together sloppily and desperately, they were breathing hard and their hearts were beating fast. Harry made a move to escalate things by straddling her lap and suddenly the good feelings went away and her skin started to crawl with fear and disgust. His weight over her made her feel discomfort and her stomach started to twist. She felt his erection pressing into her and it suddenly felt like too much as her mind flashed back to the past. She couldn't help it as her tears started to fall and her breathing shallowed.

"Stop. Stop. Stop. Please stop." she mumbled and Harry immediately moved off of her and she sat up and started to cry. She was struggling to catch her breath and he frowned.

"Hey, hey, hey, what's the matter." he asked her with concern. She was gasping for air through her tears and so he reached for her hand that was over her chest and she flinched and his frown deepened. Was she afraid of him, "Y/N, love." he called to her, "S'just me." he said extending his hand to her and she took it and squeezed it tight, "I'm here. I'm right here." he assured her as she started to calm herself, it seemed like she had done this before and that made his heart break. "I'm sorry if I pushed you too far. I should've asked before I did that, I'm sorry." he apologized with so much sincerity in his eyes and she shook her head.

"You didn't do anything wrong." she sniffled as she squeezed his hand, "It's me." she said and he frowned, "I'm ummm..." she stopped and started to cry again harder. Her cries turned into full on sobs.

"Oh love." He said softly, "Can I hold you? Is that OK?" he asked her and she nodded.

"Please." she whimpered and he just scooted in beside her and pulled her into his arms.

"I've got you." he assured her quietly and held her until she had calmed down enough that she could breathe normally again she was just quiet as he held her for a bit.

The thing that kept coming up in therapy over the last 2 sessions was the topic of her opening up to Harry about what had happened to her. She knew he would understand, but she was afraid that he'd view her as damaged or a victim or that he'd just feel sorry for her all the time. She didn't want him to think of her like that and opening up to him provided opportunity for that to happen. Her therapist reminded her that it would help him understand her better and be more patient with her as their relationship progressed. She had even informed Y/N that sex therapy was a thing they could look into in the future to help her be able to take control of her sexuality again. She had expressed to her therapist the want to have a healthy sexual relationship with Harry and she loved him, she hoped that he'd be the person she had kids with, she was looking ahead and she wanted to have it all with him, but she couldn't tell him yet.

"I'm so sorry." she finally said and he shook his head.

"No, love. Don't be sorry, it's alright." he assured and she shook her head.

"It's not. It's really not and-"

"Hey, I'm not with you just to have sex." he said to her, "Do I want to, yeah! Of course." he said and she sniffled, "But I love you and I don't need that to be happy with you and it certainly doesn't change how I feel about you. We can take our time, yeah? " he assured her and she sighed.

"Like I...want that too, I want to just do whatever I want with you but i just...I can't yet." she said softly, "And I'm scared. I love you and I trust you but I am so scared." she said and he nodded.

"That's OK. I'm scared as well of like...how this will change everything, but you're worth it to me. You're worth all the hard work I've put in on myself, I've been trying to get better all this time so that I could be good enough for you." he said and she turned in his hold and looked at him.

"Seriously?" she asked and he nodded with a caring smile.

"Yeah, love. Told you, I've loved you forever. I always will love you, there's no doubt about it." he smiled and she exhaled shakily.

"Oh, I love yo so much." she said and hugged him tight and he hugged her back. "I want to be open with you about everything and I...I just need a little time t-to be able to explain why I am the way I am." she said and he pulled back from her hold and grabbed her face.

"Look at me." he said and her glassy eyes met his, "There's nothing wrong with the way you are. And of course I want to know everything there is to know about you, but somethings just take time, OK? So don't feel like you need to push yourself on my account. I will be here with open arms and all the love in the world whenever you're ready, OK?" he said to her and she nodded and he wiped a few tears from her cheeks.

"Thank you." she said with so much gratitude. He had no idea how much what he said meant to her.

"No need to thank me, love." he assured and she smiled, "I know you'd be patient and understanding with me too." he said and she nodded.

"Yeah." she smiled, "Can I have another kiss?" she asked and he looked at her for a moment, "Promise I won't cry." she smiled and he shook his head.

"That' not what I was thinking." he said with a small chuckle.

"Then what?" she asked and his smiled dropped a bit.

"I just want to help make it better, whatever it is." he said and she had so much adoration for him in her eyes.

"You already are." she assured him and he smiled and kissed her lips once more.

"Want to have a cuddle?" he asked against her lip and she nodded, "C'mon then, love." he said as he leaned back against the pillows and she fit herself against his side. She would have to let her therapist know that she hadn't been able to tell Harry about her past yet, but she'd taken a step forward, a small step but it was a step in the right direction and for that, she was extremely proud of herself.

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles request #harry styles drabble #writing #0nlythrowharrybeaux

112 notes · View notes