#where we don’t even know the defendants name

[ventismacchiato]

O4 stuck with you — screaming and fighting !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

You and Scaramouche were dragged backstage and away from prying eyes, faces flushed and chests rising as the adrenaline from the argument on stage had yet to wear off. The dressing room was still, only filled with you both throwing insults at one another. The rest of your group members shared sheepish looks with one another, deciding to let you both get it out of your system.

As soon as the door was tightly shut you whirled around to face Scara.

“You just always have to get the last word, don’t you?” you asked, stepping closer to him.

“You’re the one who started yelling at me, I was just defending myself,” Scaramouche replied, his tone equally heated, but his posture was much more composed than you. 

“You’re the one who told me to give up,” you accused. 

“Yeah, give up the trophy so I could hold it,” Scara sighed.

“Yeah, as if you deserve to hold it.”

“Now that you mention it, I do deserve it more than you.” 

“You don’t know what it’s like to actually work for something,” you glared, voice laced with contempt, “You probably get everything handed to you by your mom.”

He glanced away, abruptly uncomfortable. “You shouldn’t talk. Your voice is even more unpleasant when you’re whining.” 

Naturally, you kept talking

“That’s the only reason you’re even here with the rest of us,” you continued, letting your jealousy cloud your senses, “I can’t be the only one who thinks that.”

Scaramouche’s face hardened. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he muttered, shoving his way past you to leave the dressing room before turning around one last time.

“Nobody even knew she was my mother until I became a trainee. I used a different name on the application forms. But if hanging onto that little fact makes you feel better about being so pathetic then be my fucking guest.” 

And with that he slammed the door behind him.

You hated the way he could make you inexplicably self-conscious. It used to be a foreign sensation, one left behind long ago in insecure adolescence.

You stood there, breathing heavily, as the door swung shut. The room was silent, everyone stunned by the intensity of the confrontation.

Lumine stepped up and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, slowly guiding you outside to cool off. 

“We’re also gonna head back,” Aether awkwardly laughed, grabbing Childe and Kazuha by their collars and dragging them out.

“So, that just happened.”

“Shut up, Venti.”

“We really need to broaden your vocabulary, Y/n. Your insults could be better.”

“You too, Fischl! Zip it!”

stuck with you!

masterlist — prev | next

begging u guys to let me use ur usernames as fans in this au pls let me make u a crazy stantwt user xx but pls comment on the masterlist so i see it

also everyone saying scara keeps eating yn up w insults is sending me 😭😭

title from the way i loved you by ts it suits scarayn so well

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

notes — 👍 leave me comments and asks instead of begging for updates pleek i need motivation to post more

taglist — @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @jangyung @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @chuuismylife @flowerypesky @creammpuff @justanothertiredreader @boxdisappeared @kissmiere @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @pjsucks @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @herebyaccident0 @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @vxcmx @domimiki @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

Pillars of salt, Pillars of sand: Dark!Aemond x oc, Aegonxoc

Chapter 15: The shadow of a sun mdni18+

🔷Summary: You are Rhaenyra and harwins daughter, Jace's twin sister. You dont expect when Floris, your best friend, writes you that she is sick, to find your uncle at Storm's end. He offers you a choice. Bend the knee to Aegon or see your brother be fed to his dragon. It is not a difficult choice to make. But as with difficult choices, the consequences are much harder to carry than the choice

🔷Author's note: DARK dead DOVE DO NOT EAT OK

Wordcount :3212 

Aemond’s pov.

I stand near the tavern, where Helaena and Maella are drinking. Judging by their giggles, hushed whispers, and delighted gasps, they are likely gossiping. I simply fold my hands on my back and watch as the soldiers that belong to the King surround the place, subtly as shadows sneaking around a lamp. ‘’Since when do they get along?’’ Aegon remarks, surprised by the young Queen and the Princess being friends. 

I suppose that the enemy of their enemy is my friend is true, after all. They might hate each other, or at least, were raised to hate one another. And now because they are both married to my useless brother, they have become something dangerous. I expected Maella to outshine Helaena at balls, receptions and gatherings. But I never expected them to ally with one another, to become friends. Never. 

It is dangerous. What if Helaena is turned over to their side? She never liked Aegon, I can’t even tell if she likes being Queen. She is as flicke as a flame and that can burn us. But if Helaena can be convinced, so can Maella. This might be good. We can show the Little strong lady that she has nothing to fear from us. As long as she complies and obeys, that is.

I still can’t believe it. They are as fire and ice. Helaena should know better, as the Queen. Maella is a good for nothing traitor and our prisoner. What does she hope to accomplish with drinking a few beers in a godforsaken tavern? ‘’I don’t know. I do think you should do something about this, Your Grace.’’ I say, after carefully choosing my words. 

Aegon’s shoulders slump with disappointment at my reminder and he looks to the stone tiles outside the tavern that cover the dirty ground. He took me to this tavern too, I remember. On my thirteenth name day. Before he would take me to the whores. Ser Arryk whispers to us that they have secured the property and I give a nod, confirming they can begin soon with securing the two ladies. ‘’You took a vow.’’ I remind my brother. ‘’If you are too weak to discipline your own wife-’’

I know I crossed a line when Aegon’s worryless glance becomes a hateful, deep festering glare forming a mirror. I see my own father looking back at me, in a way. Aegon smirks, mirroring my stance by also folding his hands on his back, advancing on me until I have no choice but to set a step back, submitting to him. ‘’You would like that, wouldn’t you, Aemond? Because if I can’t, you will do it.’’ He says, and yes it is the truth. There is an accusation there. One I’m not sure that I like.

I open my mouth, ready to defend myself and my honour as I hear a all to familiar scream, that sets my soul alight and hardens parts of my body much to my delight. Maella screams as she is carried to me and my brother, her eyes widened the moment she sees us standing near her. She takes a dramatic moment to scoff, and spits at our feet. Aegon shrugs as I jump out of the way, barely avoiding the spit hitting my boots. ‘’Discipline her.’’ I hiss, commanding my own king around.

She struggles as a wild tigress, attacking her pursuers as I simply watch her lash out, cuss, spit and yell, causing a scene well worthy of good punishment. ‘’You are disgusting animals! All of you! You fucking traitors! You would sell your own mother if it allowed you to suck Aegon’s little right toe!’’ Maella yells as she attacks a soldier, pulling his helmet off and grabbing him by the throat. I hide an amused chuckle. Aegon becomes increasingly frustrated as her scene continues, clearly tired, miserable and dreading what he must do now. 

Helaena watches, her eyes big and full of questions. ‘’Put her down! We did nothing wrong!’’ She tries to command the soldiers, but they are not her soldiers. They are Aegon’s. They won’t listen to her. ‘’Aegon, tell them to stop!’’ She is close to losing it. I remember it all too well from balls and gatherings we attended.

Maella laughs, still on the back of Arryk who tries to hold her as she kicks away at his back. I think Arryk has never been more thankful for his armour. ‘’He won’t. He’s a little craven boy, same as his brother. He is not cut out to be king. His mother knows it. His brother knows it too.’’ She briefly looks at me, and when she does I can’t help but lick my lips softly, imagining her taste. ‘’All except Aegon, for he knows nothing and never shall.’’ I need to hide my smirk for I agree with her all too much.

My brother sets one foot forward, and the brat finally stops fighting, accepting her fate. She knows what awaits her now. Helaena tries to interfere, so I capture her too, holding her gently but firmly by her waist so she shall not be harmed. ‘’Aemond! Let me go!’’ She begs. ‘’We can’t let Aegon hurt her.’’ Why not? She and her bastard brothers hurt me. Dozens of times over. If anything, Maella might learn obedience and respect for her betters with a good smack across her oh so pouty delicious face.

Helaena does not understand that so I explain it to her, as kindly as I can. ‘’He’s her king and her husband. She is the one who went too far.’’ Helaena stops fighting me and looks at me with a all too familiar emotion. Disgust. She easily escapes me, not looking back once. 

Aegon is close to hurting Maella, I can tell. But he needs a tiny push. And I know how to let Maella give him that. I search my pockets, and take out a familiar small box. I join Aegon, presenting the box to Maella as I open it. ‘’Did you know your brother pissed himself?’’ I smirk, recalling the moment I had Luc’s eyes cut out. ‘’I didn’t expect much better from a bastard, but it was disgusting how he relieved himself in front of the Baratheon family. He was begging me too, begging for me to stop, to have mercy, to be released.’’ I laugh, recalling the little scared face of little Luc as he sobbed at my feet, before I kicked him in his then empty bleeding eyeholes. Maella trembles with barely contained rage.

I bet she can show me so much of her innerfire, of her desire if only she allowed herself. I bet she can become the most beautiful obedient wife. If only Aegon didn’t marry her. I lean in closer. I smell her delicious scent and must fight all instincts to touch and smell her closer. Maella glares at both of us, but I know she must have one final push. A good one. So I open the box, show her Lucerys’s eyes and take them out, touching the small little balls as if it are mere diamonds. I chuckle, as she watches my every moment, her breath holds. I close the box with a snap, causing her to flinch. 

I take one step closer, and touch her face, gently caressing it as I stare into her eyes. ‘’It’s too bad your mother had a stillborn daughter. I would’ve loved to collect her eyes too.’’ Maella’s gaze shifts between me and Aegon. Her eyes express many emotions, despair, disbelief and finally…Guilt.

She knew, Rhaenyra was pregnant. And now she knows she is not anymore. Aegon shoots me a subtle glare, one of judgement and disgust as I watch Maella struggle with another challenge, another loss.

I smirk, whispering in her ear. ‘’Your mother’s pregnancy was fine, until she heard what had happened to you and Luc. I might have killed your brother, but you killed your sister. You caused that miscarriage and you are a Kinslayer.’’ I brush gently with my lips against her ear, kissing her forehead. ‘’You are the same as me-’’

Maella does not need long after that final push, that final confession and final straw. Aegon needs to push me out of the way of her claws, that are reaching to strangle something, anything. ‘’You bastard!’’ She yells, sobbing and in tears as she tries to strangle me, held back by guards as I walk back and forth, just within her grasp.

I shrug, causing more anger by the young princess. ‘’Only one of us is, little Lady Strong. I think you might need to rethink your loyalties. I doubt Rhaenyra will welcome you home now, that you killed her daughter, her true born Valyrian daughter with Daemon.’’ I rub some extra salt in the wounds, picking up insults and horrors wherever I go. Rhaenyra needed a heir, a pure born Valyrian child. And Maella will never be that. She will always be a Strong. She will never be good enough. And she knows this. And that is what will kill her. 

Maella kicks her guard, and rushes at me. She grabs me by my silver long hairs, dragging our faces closer as she tries to choke me. It is a foolish but admirable attempt. And one we just needed.

Aegon grabs her by the throat, strangles her briefly and smacks her across her face with his left hand, leaving a good, nice print on her face. Maella wails on the ground, glaring at us both. He approaches her again, and raises his feet too, preparing to give her a kick. ‘’My King?’’ Ser Arryk ruins this beautiful moment and I glare at him, annoyed he dared to speak in our presence at all.

Sadly, Aegon puts his feet back on the ground and ignores Maella as she cries helplessly. ‘’Put the Princess in the carriage. She can’t behave herself clearly. Bring her to my bedchamber after.’’ I feel my blood cool down after those words, and I can’t even smirk at Maella. 

Maella has stopped crying instantly at those words, her whole body shaking as Arryk grabs her and walks her to the carriage. ‘’Aegon! No! You can’t! I disgust you! You never liked me!’’ Her cries are muffled once she is put in the carriage. Aegon sighs, and for a moment the crown slips. He adjusts it right away. 

‘’So, brother.’’ I begin this terrible conversation. Because she should not be his. She is mine. I captured her, I can read her, I can trick her, deceive her, lie to her and kill her.

Aegon sighs, dramatically.  ‘’That should be enough to make her behave for one day. I don’t intend to actually lay with her.’’ I hear myself scoff. Of course not. Whyever would he do anything for his duties, for us? Ruining Maella, forcing her to have his child, it’s the best thing to do right now, the clever thing. And he won’t do it because Maella is not some blonde ugly whore.

I hate it. I hate him, I hate her, I hate the idea of them together, of them even breathing the same air. ‘’Whyever not? She is yours, brother. She is yours and for once in your life you are allowed to do what you enjoy doing.’’ I say, referring to the countless incidents.

Aegon does not meet my eye and his voice is soft as the wind as we prepare our horses. ‘’I don’t enjoy it.’’ He confesses. ‘’I never did. I just …’’

I wait ready to hear whatever explanation his sickening behaviour has.

Aegon sighs, rubbing his face. ‘’Father never saw me as his heir. Mother never saw me as anything but a problem. I guess that’s exactly who I became. An unworthy problematic heir.’’ I need to stop myself from laughing. Is he truly trying to push this all on that mother and father didn’t love him enough? That’s why he rapes?

‘’And the women?’’ I remark. ‘’How did they hate you, how did they wrong you? How did a simple kitchen maid or a servant girl hurt you, the Prince who surely they all looked up to?’’ I hear myself say the words and as soon as I say them I know. 

It’s not the love that was the issue. It’s the expectations. The expectations that he sets for himself, that the world and father set for him that he never met. And the servants were just unfortunately there at the wrong time and at the wrong place. Because there is no such thing viler than forcing yourself upon servants, people who you love. 

He becomes annoyed with me and my questions. ‘’I am done talking about this. If you want to talk about sexual things, I can ask you about why you fantasise about my wife and how you wanted to do similar things to her.’’ He’s right. And I hate that he is.

But Maella is not an innocent kitchen maid or servant who can’t defend herself.  ‘’Your wife is no innocent woman.’’ I say, with a smile as we get on the horses. ‘’You know she is a traitor and she must be eliminated so she cannot marry great houses. It’s why her virtue must be taken away.’’

I hear my brother laugh. I look at him. He shakes his head. ‘’And I used to think you were so much better than me. You are not. You might be worse.’’ After that he leaves for the Red Keep and I remain here with the carriage and the two unwanted Queens. And a lot of questions, and thoughts.

Maella is crying still as I enter the carriage. She glares at me through her tears. I smirk, sitting next to her. She instantly decides to sit somewhere else, as far away from me as possible. I think back of her offer, where she begged me to save her and to take her to her sweet mother. She is truly a naive girl who has no idea how the world truly works. ‘’You know, you only did this to yourself.’’ I say. ‘’By choosing the traitor queen, you became a traitor.’’

Maella does not see reason.

‘’She is crowned.’’ So is Aegon. ‘’I suppose you will enjoy tonight?’’ She can barely talk without sobbing. She could not be further from the truth. 

I shake my head. ‘’No, I won’t. I still firmly believe you should be with me.’’ I inform her as she rolls her eyes. ‘’As I am the-’’

She interrupts me. ‘’The one who captured me, yes.’’ She finishes with an annoyed sigh. ‘’Honestly, Uncle, it has gotten boring to hear you boast about your own pathetic accomplishments. You killed a little innocent boy and captured an innocent woman. Is that truly something to be proud of?’’

In one moment she is pushed against the walls of the carriage, my hands wrapped around her throat as I choke lightly, just to scare her. Perhaps to feel control over her life, over her body. ‘’He. Was. not. Innocent.’’ I hiss, warning her of my temper. ‘’He took my eye, had your mother done her task and disciplined him, I would have had peace with it!’’ I shout at her face as she flinches with fear and worry. She looks like she wants to call for the guards. She looks like she might bite me. As if she can laugh or cry any given moment. I wait for her to defend that bastard pup to ramble on how he was just a child. I wait for any of it.

Maella only slowly touches my hair, feeling it glide through her fingers. Her eyes sparkle with tears as she softly chuckles. ‘’I sometimes wonder what would have happened, had Grandsire married us. Would we have hated each other as much as we do now?’’ I am taken back by her movements and keep watching her carefully as she continues to touch my hair. ‘’Would Luc be alive? Would there be peace?’’ She wonders out loud, her hands finally end by my face, and her fingers touch my scars as I flinch slightly. Yet I do not pull away. There would not be peace. There would be hatred just the same. I know it. But my weak heart allows itself to be caught up in her sickening twisted fantasies of something I shall never acquire: A happy life. ‘’You are my brother’s.’’ I say, firmly. ‘’You must learn to obey his wishes and his word or there might be more.’’ I caress where Aegon struck her, warning her. ‘’He is kind now, but once he tires of you-’’ My words are interrupted as Maella places her lips against my own, and softly gasps, kissing me. Her hands touch my knees and I feel them at the same time on the back of my head, removing my eyepatch as she climbs on my lap, her eyes shimmering with tears. ‘’Why?’’ I whisper. ‘’You hate me.’’ I don’t understand it. Yet Maella continues to kiss me and to touch me in ways I only dreamt of. I should be happy, welcoming this opportunity. But I am not, and I do not welcome it. I pretend to be aboard, kissing her back. 

Maella allows herself to touch me, running her fingers over my crotch as I slip with my greedy fingers under her dress, touching and feeling her breasts and nipples, discovering her body. She shifts on the bench of the carriage, allowing me to top her properly. I remain standing as is proper, but she sweeps my legs and forces me atop of her. She lowers her eyes, touching my face gently. ‘’I told you before: We can run away together. Mother will reward you. You will become a hero.’’ She whispers and kisses me. I don’t kiss her back. I feel validated. I feel attacked, wronged, disgusted. I slap her hands off my crotch, and yank her head up by her hair so we can meet eye to eye. I see hope in her eyes. And I see it die when I scowl at her. ‘’You will lay with Aegon and no one else. You will carry his seed and your womb will quicken and you will push his child out.’’ I hiss as I push her against the walls of the carriage. Maella whimpers hurt at my rejection. I don’t care.

I slam the carriage door behind me and I don’t pay her any mind anymore. She can weep, scream and whimper all she likes: I will not betray my family. I get on my horse and sigh deeply. I imagine Aegon will enjoy himself. He will enjoy having her. I would've enjoyed having her. But at what cost? I know what she wants. She wants to go home. She does not care if she has to fuck the man who killed her brother to do it.

And my brother does not care either. He will always be unworthy of the throne. He will always avoid duty, and sacrfice. He will always be the weakest of us two. And me? I will always be doomed to remain in his shadow, the shadow of a sun.

OOP ITS A UPDATE xD

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Rafe’s revenge worked

Might make a part 3?

pt 1

Warnings: lying, slight manipulation, mentions of sex

You unlocked the door to the chateau, your heart pounding at the afterthought of what you just did.

You had sex with your brothers enemy.

The 2000 dollars sat heavy in your pocket, you had no clue what type of excuse you would make for having it.

You went to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water. You downed the water, and when you turned around John B stood in front of you.

“Where were you?” He asked, leaning against the wall, asking as if he didn’t know the answer.

“Work… it’s Monday.” You said, as if it was obvious.

“What took you so long?”

“I stayed a little longer helping close up. It’s not that serious.” You shrugged, attempting to push past him.

“Don’t bullshit me.” He held his hand out, stopping you from walking away.

“What are you talking about? Are you drunk or something?” You scoffed.

“I know you were with Rafe, and I know you had sex with him.”

Your face dropped and your heart pounded. John B pulled out his phone, opening up the audio and shoving it in your face.

“I- I didn’t! That’s not even me!” You tried to defend yourself.

He then pulled out another picture, of Rafe standing with a giant smile and the apron with your name on it in his hands.

You looked down at your waist, fuck. You must’ve forgotten it.

“John B-“

He scrolled through the messages more, the conversation between the both of them proof.

“I’m sorry, JB, I’m sorry-“ tears started to fall down your face.

He sighed.

“I- I think you should leave for a couple days, y/n.”

“W-what? You’re kicking me out? Over this shit?”

“He- he- he tried to kill me, and my friends! I’m sorry, y/n. Go… pack your stuff and stay with one of your friends. Only for a little. Okay?”

You wordlessly went to your room, grabbing bags and shoving things in there.

“We can talk when you get back. I- I just can’t right now.” He told you as he followed you into your room,

He stuttered your name out when he walked onto the patio behind you, but you didn’t even look at him as you went outside, sobbing and walking. It was dark out, dangerous, and cold. You shivered as you walked through the cut.

“Oh shittt, look what the cat dragged in.” Kelce nudged Rafe. He had shown, and boasted to all his friends about you. Rafe turned his head, looking at your distraught figure.

“No shit.” Rafe scoffed, leaning out his car window and whistling to get your attention from the other side of the road.

You snapped your head over there, your eyes widening. You stormed up to him.

“Oh, shit, someone’s ready for round t-“

You punched him, square in the face. He groaned, and chuckled at it, and before you could do anything else he jumped out the car.

“The fuck was that for?”

“You’re such an asshole! You ruined my fuckin’ life! I got kicked out, and- and now I have to see your stupid fucking face again!” You hit his chest, him just having a smirk on his face the whole time.

“Oh, shit. I’m… sorry. How’d your brother take it?” He asked in faux pity, slowly wrapping his arms around you and looking over to Kelce in the car with a grin.

“He’s pissed!” You sobbed into his chest. “And he’s upset, and he- he-“

“Shh. Shhh. It’s alright. Uh.. if you want, you could hang at mines for a couple of days.”

“No. I’m just gonna-“ you pushed him off of you, realizing who it was again.

“C’mon, it’s cold, you’re literally shivering! I got blankets and shit in the car. You can’t walk all the way there.”

“Rafe, I can’t-“

“Think of it as my apology. Please. I feel.. just so bad. And… I just want you to stay, just for a couple days. Think of it, we’ll have the house to ourselves for days. My dad’s on some trip with my stepmom, Sarah’s hanging out with your brother” he said it with a tinge of bitterness, making you suspicious.

“and my other one is at her friends.”

“Did you-“ you sniffled. “Did you fuck me because your sister got with my brother?” You asked him, catching onto the distaste he had about it.

“What? Course not. What type of crazy shit is that?” He scoffed. Yea, that’s exactly what he did.

“Fine.” You mumbled when you felt another breeze blow past, the cold making you shiver again.

“Poor thing.” Rafe mumbled as he opened the door, motioning for you to get in the back.

“Here.” Rafe threw his jacket at you, you taking it and quickly pulling it over your shoulders.

Kelce looked at him with a knowing look, and Rafe held his hands up in mock defense, turning the car on again.

——

@sublimepenguinpeach-blog @haruvalentine4321 @theoraekenslover @ilovemensomuchagh

[ryukisgod]

I think we need to get rid of the positive connotations of “consequences for you actions.” I think it it should be neutral now.

For example let’s look at whistle blowing, if you expose the illegal policies of your employer the consequence is that you will be fired, and if you’re a government worker, law enforcement agencies will prosecute you and have you thrown in prison. Whistle blowers know this will be the consequences of their actions and they choose to do the right thing anyway, they are heroes, and the ones administering the “consequences” are immoral.

If a victim of domestic abuse stands up for themselves eg a child or partner, they know the consequences for their actions will be violence. “Consequences for your actions” has a positive connotation for the abuser, and a negative one for the person with the bruises.

[monitorkernelaccess]

sometimes I remember that preston max allen tweet that’s like “well at least in MY musical, the teenager actually faces consequences for her actions” (vagueing dear evan hansen) and it’s like. well yeah riley did kill two people so

[leviathanspain]

Hello!! Would you be able to write a request for finnick? Just like he’s the capitols darling, reader is the capitals hound dog. Known to be fiercely protective and exceptionally violent and brutal. During the third quarter quell, katniss’ group is afraid of reader because they haven’t seen her all match, but they run into her and she defends them brutally against something? Sorry I know it’s specific:) love your writing!

my body is a cage

finnick odair x reader

synopsis: his focus was protecting katniss, but he sleeps with an eye open as long as you’re still out there..

a/n: i made some changes, jus go with it lmao

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“she’s still out there, katniss.” finnick had made this pointedly to katniss, who wanted to go out hunting for the remaining victors with johanna. you were shrouded in mystery, out of all the victors, finnick knew the least about you.

“where would she be?” peeta looked at finnick, who sighed, shrugging, “the arena is different than the arena she won in, i assume somewhere low to the ground-“ finnick sweeped the beach, eye catching on a rustle in the bush, straight across from them, “and close.” he remembered now how you had won your games.

you had tracked all the tributes like prey, manipulating their surroundings to kill them, it had been one of the most invigorating games for the capitol ever. “she’s a bloodhound, probably sniffed us out before we realized.”

johanna watched the area that finnick had saw you, but still offered her commentary, “she’s brutal, katniss.”

katniss looked at them all, surrounded by skilled people yet found herself doubting their abilities, especially her own. none of them were sure they’d win, not against her.

“the careers are the least of our worries with her out there.” peeta noted. finnick looked at him and shrugged, “she might just kill them herself.”

they knew getting back on the island was a bad idea. katniss ducked at the sound of a mysterious voice, feeling as something flew past her head, stabbing cashmere right in the chest.

“get up.” katniss looked up to see you, standing over her. you had an array of weapons on you, and you were reaching for another one. katniss felt the panic in her throat until you launched it at enobaria, who had thrown herself at katniss. “get up!” your voice sounded more frantic and katniss did, struggling from keeping her eyes off of you.

suddenly the island began to spin.

your grip was loosening, and you groaned with slight fear as you felt the cold water thundering against your feet. katniss reached out for you, “grab my hand!” she screamed, but the water trashing drowned her out.

you could see her hand amidst all the water and grabbed it tightly, closing your eyes as the island slowed to a stop.

you sat on the beach, alone as the others argued over you. katniss had defended you, deciding she wanted you as an ally. but finnick and johanna deemed it too risky, “she could kill us all in our sleep, then what?” johanna had made that point as one of your methods, and you inhaled sharply.

finnick glanced at you, noticing the solemn expression on your face. he had known that expression far too many times, and it made him change his mind.

“johanna.” finnick called her name and sighed, “she saved her life. that’s not something we can just ignore, we don’t even know her.”

there was silence between them all, katniss had looked to johanna, watching as she fought internally before giving in. “i’ll go get her, maybe threaten a little.” she stood up, taking her axe with her.

finnick looked to katniss as johanna left, “i’ll keep an eye on her. for you.” he knew that once katniss settled on allies, she settled. her choices weren’t always the best, but somehow it would work itself out.

“why did you save her?” finnick had taken the first watch with you. johanna had convinced him, as just having you as watch would be ‘asking for it’.

you shrugged, “why not.” there hadn’t been much decision making on the island. it was either her or cashmere, and you didn’t see much of a choice.

finnick looked at you, “i don’t believe that.” his eyes slid themselves back to stare at the beach and you scoffed, “and why is that?”

finnick shrugged, “no one would just randomly save someone without an ulterior motive.” he said it like a fact and you smirked, “do you have one?”

“have one what?” he looked confused, obvious by the furrow in his brow.

“do you have an ulterior motive?” you repeated the full length question and watched as finnick practically whipped his head around.

“no.” he stated plainly, and you rolled your eyes, “i saw you saved katniss, similiar to how i did. you and johanna can’t just be doing this,” you glanced back to katniss and peeta sleeping, “for nothing. whatever it is, finnick, is an ulterior motive.” finnick pursed his lips, almost as if he couldn’t believe it.

“i’ll let you have yours if you let me have mine.” you finished, catching his gaze. finnick knew there were layers to you. you were different than most victors, your brutality is what made you like the rest of them, the willingness to kill. but you were turning out to be way more than what meets the eye. whatever your motive was, finnick sensed it wasn’t malice.

finnick settled to watch the sun rise upon your face, ending the conversation with a nod.

finnick watched as you sat by the beach. it had been post jabberjays, you, him and katniss had all been trapped with the birds, fluttering and screaming your names. now it seemed, like you had decided to decompress by the beach, just as he was going to.

he piled up next to you, close but far enough to give you a good amount of space.

it was then that finnick realized you had been crying, tears evident on your cheeks. he had heard katniss yell her sister’s name, and he had heard annie. you had just screamed in response, as if you were trying to drown out the birds with your own voice.

“i’m sorry.” you apologized to finnick, wiping your eyes as he settled down. you sniffled, watching as the waves moved.

“don’t apologize, there’s no need.” finnick spoke, “who did you hear?”

there was silence for a moment, until you spoke, “my best friend.” your mind shuddered back the sound of his screams and you laughed, painfully. “he’s been dead for years. i killed him.” you admitted, “he died because of a mistake i had made during the games.”

your mind flashed back to the games, where you had accidentally launched a knife to his chest, thinking it had been another tribute.

“he had spent all of his games searching for me. and once he found me, i had killed him.” it was cruel for him to be your district partner, for only one would survive, but you “never thought it would be me.” you glanced at finnick, who had been listening.

“it was supposed to be him.” you cried, “i killed everyone else to get to him, and when it was down to four, was when he came to get me.” you shook your head, “there is nothing in this world that i loved more than him, finnick. now that he’s gone, there’s nothing left for me.”

finnick shook his head, “stop. you know that’s not true.” he tried to comfort you, your words mirroring his own thoughts.

“that’s my motive, finnick.” you revealed, “my body is a cage, and i can’t stand to live in it much longer.”

johanna had woken up abruptly. she clutched onto her weapon, eyes glancing around before she settled on the two figures on the beach. she squinted and made out finnick’s hair, and you. the only two missing from the group. you had your head leaned on finnick’s shoulder, as the two of you watched the rising sun.

[distantdarlings]

HIS OWN MEDICINE // t. nott

RATING: R / 3.6K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* Your best friend, Pansy Parkinson, suggests fixing your boyfriend’s flirting problem by giving him a taste of his own medicine.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! (P in v) Unprotected, spanking, top!theo, bottom!reader, fem!reader, mean dom, innocent reader?, degradation, name-calling, weird authoritative thing going on with Theo (idk), one (1) use of ‘daddy,’ mild breeding kink, flirting while in relationship, jealousy, not fully proof-read (lmk if I missed any!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

nobody - Toby Mai

- - -

“I don’t want to hear another fucking excuse, Theo!” you screamed, rage flushing your cheeks. It took everything in you not to strangle him right now.

After the third time catching him flirting with another girl, you were ready to walk again. You weren’t even sure how many times you’d broken up with him, and how many times he’d broken up with you.

But you were about to add another time.

“Please, baby, you know it’s not what you think,” he begged, trying to grab your hands. “She’s just a friend—we were just chatting.”

“Usually, you can chat with people without your hands wrapped around them! You seemed pretty fucking cozy with her!”

“Baby, come on…,” he cooed, trying to press some kisses to your fingers. Angry, you yanked your hand out of his grasp and tore out of the room. You heard the door slam behind you and ignored the gasps of shock as you shoved through a group of students moving in a unit down the hallway.

You could hardly stand that stupid man right now. If you saw his face again within the next 48 hours, you would punch him.

As you flew down the steps of the Slytherin dormitories and toward the mostly empty common room, you nearly knocked a petite woman over.

The two of you crashed into each other and grunted on impact.

“Watch where you’re going—Merlin! What are you doing down here, honey? Are you crying?”

It was Pansy, one of your best friends in the entire world. Though the tears had been pooling in your eyes since you stormed out of Theo’s dorm, her question had pushed you over the edge. An angry sob left your lips.

“Oh no! What happened?” she cried, wrapping you up in her small frame. Shamelessly, you wept into the folds of her robes. She smelled comforting, like home and daisies. You could hardly hold back the tears that poured down your cheeks.

“It’s Theo!” you gasped. “I broke up with him again!”

“Oh…again?” You could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “What did he do this time?”

“He was rubbing up on that stupid Gryffindor girl from last time—laughing and going on! I hate him! I never want to see him again!”

“Why do you let this keep happening?” she asked nonchalantly, patting your head soothingly.

“Me?” you scoffed. “He’s flirting with other girls!”

“Okay, but…you also keep getting back together with him,” she shrugged.

You pulled away from her and glared a bit. You knew your decision-making on the love aspect of things had never been terrific, but you couldn’t help it. Theo was so good to you (besides the flirting thing).

You had tried to rationalize it repeatedly, telling yourself he was just a friendly guy, but he never acted that way to other guys—only girls. And you’d realized your rationalization was stupid. And that he was just flirting.

“Listen,” she started again. “I get it more than anyone else. Theo’s very hard to resist—I’m just saying he’s attractive!” She quickly rushed to defend her words because, after all, though you and Theo were “broken up” right now, you’d likely be back together before the end of the week. That’s how pathetic you were.

“If you don’t want to break up with him, how about you talk about it with him,” she suggested. “You need to sit him down, get stern with him, and tell him that he’s not going to talk to these girls the way he is anymore.”

“I’ve tried that already, Pans! I practically scream in his face every time he does this shit!”

There was a moment of silence while the both of you seemed to mull the issue over.

“Well, then, how about we try something else?” Pansy said, her eyes glinting mysteriously. Your shuddering breaths paused for a moment as you looked up at her. Whatever she was planning couldn’t be good just by the look on her face.

“Er, what do you mean?” you asked, a bit of anxiety creeping up the back of your neck.

“If you can’t get him to stop in your own way…maybe it’s time to give him a taste of his own medicine.” She smirked wildly, her eyebrows rising above her bangs.

“You don’t mean—? Oh, no! No, Pansy! I’m not doing that. I can’t do that when I’ve shouted at him for doing it for so long!”

“Exactly,” she said. “You’ve asked him to stop repeatedly, but he’s not interested in discussion. He needs a threat.”

Despite the growing burning in the pit of your stomach urging you to accept her suggestion, you still felt horrible even considering it. Theo had never cheated on you; you just felt as though he was too friendly with other girls. But maybe Pansy was right. Maybe he wouldn’t understand how frustrating it was until he experienced it himself. It wasn’t like you were going to actually cheat on him. Maybe you could just talk to one of his friends and pretend to flirt. Just a little bit.

With the end of your free period growing closer, you decided you would make Theo jealous at dinner. You just had to decide who you would select to help with your antics.

***

Your eyes surveyed the Great Hall, flashing back and forth across the immense tables. Familiar faces glanced back at you in passing, their eyes aimlessly wandering as well. You couldn’t help but smirk just a bit, knowing your plans. Poor Theo had no idea what he was in for.

After weighing your options for a few minutes, you finally decided that if you really wanted to get to Theo, you needed to hit close to home—too close to home.

Your eyes locked on a familiar face you had often stared at, even before you got together with Theo. Mattheo Riddle.

A dark, brooding masterpiece of a boy. Truly, someone you’d be fawning over if you weren’t currently with Theo. But, saying that sounded like a broken record, considering how many girls and boys begged Mattheo for a second glance. You watched him closely, observing for a few moments.

His dark was clenched just a bit as he ran long fingers through his raven curls. It was entirely too much for you to watch…just looking at him had a bit of heat pooling in your stomach.

You couldn’t lie. In the few moments you’d forgotten about Theo and planned to make him jealous, the rose-colored glasses had come off, and the dark green ones had slipped over your eyes. Your chest was pounding, and it wasn’t for Theo at this very moment.

A prick of courage coursed through your veins and with a deep breath, you were moving quickly toward your target.

Enzo, Theo, and Mattheo sat at the edge of the Slytherin table closest to the Great Hall’s entrance. They gathered around each other, snacking and laughing. Mattheo sat on the table with his feet settled on the bench, Enzo sat just next to his legs on the bench, and Theo sat opposite Enzo. Maybe it was cheesy, but even Mattheo’s small rebellion of sitting on the table rather than the bench was calling your name. To not sound like every Gryffindor currently drooling over Mattheo, he really did have the perfect bad-boy vibe. He was like a sexy Muggle film.

Mattheo’s legs were spread with his elbows settled on his thighs—a dominating posture. His robe was settled over the edge of the table, and his tie was loosened, exposing a sliver of bronze chest and a singular chain dangling beneath the collar of his shirt. Merlin, this was sinful.

Theo caught your eyes and smiled brightly. He waved you over. That particular movement snagged the attention of Mattheo and Enzo—both of whom found your eyes and smiled in return. Maybe you were over-confident, but you could have sworn Mattheo had looked you slowly up and down as you approached.

Granted, you had changed up your outfit before coming to dinner. It was simple, but you were sure it’d get the job done with how it framed your figure and dipped down your chest. Your hair was styled, and Pansy had granted you her talent for makeup. You felt gorgeous, so you assumed you looked it.

Your wand was slid into the small decorative belt that came with the dress, and your hands were tightened behind your back in a sort of mock innocence. You smiled brightly, eyes only on Mattheo.

Completely ignoring Theo, you walked straight up to the two boys sitting before him. The both of them were looking you up and down now.

“Hey, Matty,” you giggled, stopping just before him. Smirking, he slid his arms around your waist and pulled you between his legs, your hips bumping against his core.

“Hey, baby,” he whispered. “You’re awfully bubbly this afternoon.” His voice vibrated against your ear, sending a violent chill down your back. You tried not to let your facade fall, but damn, he was good. You couldn’t tell if he was just playing along, seriously into it, or reading your mind. Who knew? Legilimency ran in his family.

“Baby?” Theo asked gently. You could just barely hear his voice past Mattheo’s warm body. “Matty?”

His poor, confused voice made your heart sink a little bit. You immediately felt bad. But this was for his own good. He was feeling what you felt every time he pulled this shit with other girls.

“I can’t help it,” you smiled. “I was excited to see you.”

“What the fuck? What did he do to get all the attention?” Enzo joked, smiling crookedly.

“Aw, but I was excited to see you too, sweetheart,” you cooed, leaning over Mattheo’s thigh to gently touch a finger to his chin.

“I think someone’s had a bit to drink,” Theo said sternly. You finally made eye contact with him. He was fuming. You swallowed nervously but ignored his threatening gaze. You were doing this for a reason.

“I’m completely sober, Theo,” you said blankly.

“You wanna go somewhere, mama,” Mattheo whispered against your cheek, his lips brushing your jawline. His arms were still wrapped tightly around your waist, his grip domineering and his scent overwhelming. Why did you want to say yes? Were you a bad person? You weren’t sure. This was a bad idea.

You giggled to avoid answering his question. Enzo’s eyebrow quirked at you before giving a glance to Theo.

“Well, I didn’t want to have to be the one to say this. But, personally, I feel that we are all close enough now to discuss these things.” Enzo nodded his head. “Have we truly ever considered the possibility of a foursome?”

Theo choked on his drink, Mattheo pretended to gag, and you gasped sharply.

“I’m just saying…it’s a valid question.”

“Enzo, shut up. Now.” Theo gripped his cup tightly, his knuckles bleeding white across his skin.

“Mattheo, take your fucking hands off of my girlfriend,” he said, turning to the man above you. “We need to fucking talk.”

His eyes never left yours as he pulled himself away from the table and walked toward the door. He didn’t even need to look back to know that you were trailing behind him with a half-defeated look on your face.

You were a bit frightened of the consequences of your actions, but you were certain that once you explained yourself, he’d be more understanding. You hoped.

Once the two of you were just past the doors of the Great Hall, Theo grasped your hand roughly, and, after being forced through a sickeningly tight tube with a loud suctioning sound, you were standing in Theo’s dormitory. You were a bit dizzy from Disapparating after not doing it for so long, but no amount of churning in your stomach could distract from the raging boy storming straight for you.

“What the fuck was that?” Theo shouted, forcing himself up against you. The pressure of his chest pushed you back up against the footboard’s bedpost. As the wood dug into your back, a gasp left your lips.

The way he looked down at you, fuming and jaw clenching, had you flushed ever so slightly. You didn’t know what it was, but his anger wasn’t pleasuring you as you thought.

An hour ago, you’d have assumed that you would feel amazing because of revenge. Not … something else.

“I was just…,” you trailed off, his eyes drilling holes through yours. Your hands wrapped around the bedpost behind you as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. “I wanted to make you jealous.”

His jaw ticked.

“You what?”

“I’m sorry,” you flinched at the volume of his words. “You’re always so friendly and touchy with all of your girl friends—I just wanted to make you feel the same way.”

“Feel what way?” he demanded.

“Jealous,” you whispered, embarrassed. Your eyes tore away from him and cast to the floor. Despite the confidence you’d had a few hours ago, you felt like the smallest woman in the world now.

“Jealous? You’re so pathetic,” he whispered, his voice suddenly soft and chiding. The word made a heat pool between your legs. Your lips parted in a silent gasp. You refused to look at him.

“Instead of just working through our argument earlier like adults, you thought it’d be a good idea to throw yourself on my friends to get a reaction out of me?”

“Well, when you say it like that—”

“Was it Pansy?”

“What?”

He sighed and clenched his jaw in frustration. “Did Pansy Parkinson put this stupid idea into your head?”

You looked down. You were too embarrassed to answer, but he knew. He scoffed and placed a surprisingly gentle finger beneath your chin. He tilted you up to look at him. His eyes were softer now.

“I know that Pansy is a bad influence on you, but you still have to be taught a lesson,” he murmured, his eyes ranging from soft and caring to lustful and mean.

“But, I–”

“Shut up,” he interrupted, voice stern as steel. “Don’t talk anymore, okay?”

Your lips snapped shut and, falling into an embarrassingly well-rehearsed routine, you nodded and forced yourself to keep eye contact with him. However, he had no issue doing so. His crystalline eyes never left your face except for one agonizing second when he dragged them down the length of your body.

You then forgot all of your previous endeavors and realized that Theo was going to have his way with you. He wasn’t more understanding, nor had you gotten your revenge. But none of that mattered right now. The heat pooling between your thighs had blurred all possible thoughts that might pass across your mind. The only thing you could see, smell, taste, hear, feel was Theo, Theo, Theo. You sucked in a shaky breath.

His fingers slid around your upper arms, pulling you closer to him. The way he touched you was gentle and slow—a precursor for the aggression that was to come.

“Turn around and bend over,” he whispered. His voice was nothing less than demanding. You couldn’t help but comply as if everything depended on your ability to follow his directions. Which, at this moment, it felt that way.

You turned and laid your torso across the length of his bed, tucking your arms beneath your chest. Your cheek lay against the satin comforter as your breath exited your body in short, shuddering pants.

“You deserve this,” he murmured. “You know you do.” His hands—so gentle—pushed themselves beneath the hem of your skirt. Your eyes clenched shut as your corse pulsated in time with your rapid heartbeat.

The tips of his fingers caressed the curvature of your bare hips. With your intent to seduce, you’d figured you better dress the part as well as act it. For exactly that reason, you’d worn no bottoms beneath the tight dress. You could hear Theo inhale deeply as a single thumb slid over wettened, hot folds. You gasped sharply at the sensation.

“You wanted this,” he growled. Honestly, you hadn’t considered this as one of the outcomes of your little venture, but you wouldn’t deny what you currently wanted. With a whimper, you nodded your head and pushed your hips back against him.

A small grunt left his lips as your ass came into contact with his core, already engorged and pulsing, just as you were. You concealed a smirk. Perhaps it was the false persona you had put on this evening, but your confidence shone through the room like a lightbulb.

“Very well,” he sighed. “You’ll get exactly what you wanted, you pathetic slut. The only way you can get what you want is to show your ass in front of all my friends, huh? You couldn’t just fucking ask?” With each rhetorical question, he tore another piece of clothing from himself. His anger radiated off of him.

“My advice, love?” He rolled the fabric of your dress over your ass, allowing the cool air to bite at your core. “Next time…just fucking ask me to ruin this perfect cunt.” He pushed into you with a relieved groan.

The lack of any preparation had you biting into his comforter. Perhaps no foreplay was your punishment, but he felt too good for you to complain about it.

His hands gripped your hips like a vice as he pulled you back onto him at a sickening pace. He hit every spot inside of you with a bruising force, so hard that your face slid back and forth across his slick comforter. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t keep a hold on the surface. Theo’s rage-filled thrusts knocked you loose from any grip you gained on his sheets like it was nothing.

“If you ever pull something like that again, I swear to Merlin, I’ll beat the fuck out of any man who touches you,” he breathed through ragged thrusts. “I don’t care if it’s Mattheo or Enzo or some random guy—I’ll fucking kill him.”

His words pushed you closer and closer to the edge. Shamelessly, you moaned his name as if it were the last thing you’d ever say. He looked like a god behind you with his hair stuck to his forehead and his lips parted, his sweat circled the air, his name tasted perfect in your mouth, his moans were glorious, and he felt perfect inside you. Again, Theo was all you could see, smell, taste, hear, and feel.

“Yeah, baby? Does that feel good?” he whispered to you, taunting you endlessly. “Who fucks you like this, huh?”

“You,” you whined, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I couldn’t hear you, baby. It sounded like you said Enzo. Was that right?” he cruelly teased you. His hand came down hard across the brunt of your ass cheek. “That’s what you fucking get. Now, who fucks you like this?”

“You!” you tried again, desperate to feel your release.

“Mattheo? Oh, you’re really trying me today!” he shouted, bringing his hand down against you again. You yelped beneath the bite of his hand. You could practically already see the handprint forming across your skin.

Theo suddenly grabbed your hair roughly and pulled you against his body. Your back was pressed to his front, and his cock was hitting a devastating angle inside of you.

“Who fucks you like this, bitch?”

“You, Theo! Fuck, nobody makes me feel like this! Theo, Theo, Theo…,” your voice trailed off pathetically as he pounded into you with a force like no other. You wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer.

One of his hands was wrapped around your stomach while the other remained tightly curled in your hair as he fucked up into you relentlessly. The coil in your stomach that only seemed to build when Theo handled you the way he did began to wind up in your stomach. Each thrust from the man behind you had it curling tighter and tighter, threatening to combust at any moment.

“Fuck, Theo, I’m gonna—”

“Yeah, baby? You’re gonna cum for me? Cum for me, baby…cum on my cock, sweetheart. Let me fill you up, darling. Please, baby, let me cum inside you. Make me a daddy, baby.”

And with those words, you were cumming against him harder than you ever had before. Honey spilled from you and coated his lower stomach and your thighs. The tension from your entire body locking up had Theo’s legs beginning to shake. Whispers of strained “fuck, fuck, fuck”s resonated throughout the room as Theo fucked himself through his orgasm. Just before you could protest at the overstimulation, he came into you, filling you up just as he had promised.

The feeling of every inch of his arousal overflowing from your core nearly made you needy all over again. You might've asked him for a round two if not for the overwhelming exhaustion that had just flooded your body.

Between the rapid pace he’d set and the abuse you’d taken from behind, the two of you were laid out. Both of you collapsed against his bed, chests rising and falling rapidly, beads of sweat dripping, eyes fluttering closed. You were sure you’d pass away if you attempted to move, so you laid completely still.

“How was that?” Theo asked, chuckling breathlessly. You refrained from rolling your eyes at his awkwardly-timed question.

“It was really good, you dummy,” you laughed, wiping a bit of sweat from your hairline.

“Good,” he whispered, rolling over to face you. “Because if you ever pull anything like that again, I’ll kill the man who touched you then I’ll fuck you in front of him.”

Merlin.

- - -

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[catherinnn]

This kinda inspired by one of your enemies to lovers stories where eddie says “you wouldn’t be able to handle me” but reader instead says “oh yeah i couldn’t handle the two-centimeter-pussy-defeater bc id because i would be too busy laughing my ass off at your angry half inch.”

Sorry i have been holding that one in for quite some time 😤

Beg for it

enemies to lovers - one bed trope - eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT +18, piv, oral ( f & m), choking, degradation, unprotected sex (don't do this, this is fiction), porn with plot, fluffy at the end.

a/n: thank you for requesting babe, hope you love it!

5.7k words

“Game night at my place, the whole group will be there” Steve announces after greeting you. You went to visit him and Robin since you were already near the place. Also, maybe you could find a movie to watch tonight.

“Ugh, really? They all said yes already?” you ask.

“If you’re expecting me to say that Munson hasn’t, then I have bad news” he confirms.

“Fuck”

“You’re not even trying to be friends at this point” he complains.

“It’s impossible with him being so mean all the time” you tried to defend yourself but Robin was quick to refute your statement.

“You sure are mean to him as well, don’t act so innocent”

“Well, he started it! I didn’t even know him and he started with the jokes and asshole comments” you weren’t lying.

You were new in town, and new at the summer job your dad had found for you. He wanted you to already have some experience at working so you could make a better curriculum later. There was were you met Nancy and instantly became good friends. So much so that she had introduced you to her friend group she has had for years already. Steve, Nance, Jonathan, Robin and Eddie. The former four had been sweethearts to you since you first met them, easily becoming good friends as well. The problem was with the latter. The night Nancy had introduced you to everyone, he started being a little distant and cold towards you. You tried not to feel offended since he could just be shy or introverted, but then he started throwing snide comments and sarcastic mocking your way. You were not going to sit there and take that, so you equally threw cutting remarks at him.

That’s how the current war with him started. And that’s why your friends keep insisting with this forced proximity, so we could all be a happy family.

But it was useless, you and Eddie do agree on that.

The game night arrived that Friday. You were at the Harrington household with several board games awaiting on the table. Battleship, Clue, Guess Who, Monopoly, Scrabble, you name it.

“We wanted to make different groups and play all of these, then see which team is the best” Robin explains. “Steve and me will be team one” she says as she writes that in the whiteboard. They really went all out, since we could all be pretty competitive.

“Group two!” Jonathan exclaims quickly grabbing Nancy’s hand.

“Wait… no, definitely not” You start complaining after realizing that would mean you’re stuck with Eddie.

 “No way! I’m not teaming up with her, she’ll make us lose at everything” he complains as well.

“I will? I think the actual loser here it’s you”

“Oh, am I now-?” The metal-head starts responding when Steve steps in, cutting him off.

“Okay! Stop yelling, we’re not even playing yet! The teams have been chosen, try and be faster next time”

“We’ll start with Guess Who” Robin announces.

As the game progressed, the bickering continued.

"Does your person have brown hair?" Eddie asks Nancy and Jonathan, who nod.

You reach over to flip down the characters with blond or red hair "See, this is why we should’ve picked someone with a hat, it's less obvious"

Eddie rolled his eyes "Oh, please. Like your guess was any better. We’re losing here!” Eddie complains.

"Only if you keep making terrible guesses" you shoot back.

"Does your person have a hat?" you ask the other team.

"No"

"Still think the hat was a good idea?" Eddie raised an eyebrow at you.

"It was strategic" you huff, flipping down the characters with hats.

After playing most of the board games you had, you were tied with the second group, Steve and Robin had already lost.

“Last but not least, to decide the winner of this evening, I present… battleship” Robin announces once more.

"You sure you can keep up with this game? It requires more than just a pretty face" Eddie asks you.

"Don’t worry, I have enough brains to make up for your lack of them" you respond.

“Quit it, start playing” Steve orders.

"Let's just get this over with" you roll your eyes.

They set up the Battleship boards, each team carefully arranging their ships. Eddie and you hunched over the board, whispering fiercely.

"Put the battleship here" he insist, pointing to the top left corner.

"No, it’s too obvious. Let’s hide it in the middle"

"Fine, but when they hit it right away don’t blame me" he groans.

As the game progressed, your bickering intensified.

"B6" Jonathan called out.

You glance at the board and softly nod your head "Hit"

Eddie leans closer, his voice a teasing whisper, "I told you the corner was better"

"Just focus"

When it was your turn, Eddie called out "G4"

Nancy checks their board, "Miss"

You smirk "Looks like your guess wasn’t so great either"

Eddie rolls his eyes "Just wait"

A few rounds later, it was your turn again.

"E5" Eddie calls out.

"Miss" Nancy announces.

"I told you they wouldn’t put it there" you huff.

"Like you’ve done any better"

"How about C3?" you roll your eyes.

"Fine, C3" Eddie sighs.

"Hit" Jonathan says between his teeth.

"See? I told you" you smirk.

"Don’t get cocky, princess"

The tension built as the game neared its end, each team with only one ship left.

"Last shot, let's go with G3" Eddie says

You nod.

"You sunk our battleship" Jonathan confirms after a long sigh.

“YES!”

“COME ONN” both you and Eddie shout in excitement and before even thinking about it you hug tightly.

Robin and Steve watch the scene with wide eyes and smirks on their faces.

And the second your bodies touch each other you realize what you’re actually doing. The hug only lasts few seconds before you both back away awkwardly.

“See? You actually do make a pretty good team” Robin comments.

“Only because I took the last shot” Eddie says.

“Oh please, if it were up to you we’d still be guessing corners” you reply.

"And if it were up to you, we'd be stuck in the middle forever”

Your friends roll their eyes as the bickering continued. And as you act indifferent, you try not think about how you had to stand on the tip of your toes to wrap your arms around his neck, or how soft his hair had felt touching your skin.

His frizzy and chaotic hair. But so curly and soft.

--

Couple of weeks after that night had passed, you hung out with the guys almost every weekend. You favorite nights were the ones Eddie was busy and couldn’t make it. Like tonight.

“Pass the salt, please” Nancy asks Robin. You all went out to have dinner together. Not all actually, Jonathan was too busy as well, him you did miss.

“It’s like we’re having a girl’s night!” you say excitedly and both girls laugh as well.

“No, you’re not about to count me in as a girl” He complains.

“Oh please, you have better hair than me!” Robin comments and he rolls his eyes.

“I’m just teasing, jeez! Someone has their panties in a twist!” you joke.

“Are you on your period or something?” Nancy joins in sarcastically.

“Alright, not even funny” Steve interrupts. “Let's focus. I think we should keep planning the trip, even though we’re not all here tonight”

“Don’t even mention it. I miss Jonathan so much, he’s been so busy lately. I think he really needs a break” Nancy complains and Robin agrees with her.

“I know, it’s really noticeable when Eddie’s not here either”

“Oh yeah, he’s the one I miss. His irritating voice and loud comments. His annoying essence it’s what’s missing here!” you joke but they don’t find it funny.

“We’ve been through this, you’re gonna have to learn to like each other”

“Sure sure, so… the trip?” you change the topic acting foolish.

“Yeah, I liked the hiking option. We always go to the lake every summer, we should change it up” Nancy votes. You’ve never went to any lake with them since this is the first year you’re joining them. But they had told some stories about this hidden lake they usually go to in summer.

“I think so too, plus we should do something different since we have a new integrant” Steve comments smiling at you. Robin and you also agree to go with that option.

The guys make sure of telling the rest everything you have agreed on that night. You’ve settled on where to go hiking and the cabin that would be waiting for you at night.

A few weeks later you're all set to go.

The trip to get there was...

Steve and Jonathan took turns driving. "You must be a really shitty driver if no one here trusts you behind the wheel" you notice and tell Eddie.

"I'm not a bad driver, princess. Maybe we could go for a drive sometime and you could judge for yourself! We'll call it a date" Eddie teases you the way he knows will shut you up, it always worked. As soon as he started flirting with you, it was like you got shy all of the sudden. Replying with some nonsense that would make Eddie laugh harder because he knew he had won.

"I'd rather get eaten by a shark" you respond ignoring the nervousness that ran through your body.

"Alright, we still have a few hours ahead of us, and I'm not gonna make them with you two bickering the whole way there. So calm down" Steve —or actually, mom Steve— told you off.

Once you got to the cabin, you parked the car, settled everything down, ate something and got ready for today's hiking exercise.

Eddie was never a big fan of sports, so he knew that after an hour or so of hiking —no matter how slow they were walking or how much water he was drinking— he would just start to stay a little behind. Not a lot, but definitely the last on the row.

Also, he started to get bored. Eddie was chatting with Jonathan, but he started to take pictures of every little plant or flower he saw, and the higher you got, the more pictures of the view he wanted to take.

So Eddie started to walk in silence, taking notice of other little things, like the fact that you and Steve look pretty close and pretty giggly with each other since you started hiking. But not only that, obviously, it's not like he's jealous or anything. For him to be jealous he would have to like you in the first place, and there was no way Eddie wants you.

You're the obvious person to like; everyone in Hawkins is already smitten with you. Every guy has a crush on you because you're undeniably beautiful. He knew from the first moment he saw you that you'd never go for a guy like him. So, to keep himself from showing any sign that he wanted you, he did the opposite —he started to hate you.

So he is definitely not jealous. He was only noticing that like he noticed the colourful rocks that he walked by, or the clouds in the sky, or the way those shorts hug your body so nicely.

But he keeps hearing your laughter every ten seconds. Was Steve really being that funny, or you were acting all giggly for him? Did you like Steve? It certainly seems like you do.

You, however, were having so much fun. In the middle of a funny story Steve was telling you about some guy who tried to flirt with Robin at work and the look on her face not knowing how to tell him she didn’t like him —or well, any men for that matter.

The forest path was rugged, but you welcomed the challenge at first, feeling the cool morning air on your skin. However, after a while, your legs began to protest, your breath came in shorter gasps. It was hard to keep up with Steve. Swimmer and football player Steve. So you had to slow down a little, now walking alongside Eddie.

“What’s the matter, princess? Can’t keep up?” he teases with a mocking tone.

“You literally got behind sooner than me” you answer, shaking your head. “If anyone’s slow here, it’s you”

“But it looks like we're both walking together now, so who's really winning?” Eddie chuckles, unfazed by your sharp reply as his eyes twinkle with amusement.

You decide to ignore him. How foolish of you to think that he would accept that silence.

“So what’s the deal between you and Steve? You looked pretty cozy back there. You’re not very subtle, you know”

“There’s no deal with Steve, we were just talking” you roll your eyes, irritation flaring up.

"Right, just talking" he says, his tone dripping with scepticism. "You’re so obvious, it's almost painful to watch"

“Why don’t you stop jumping to conclusions and mind your own business” 

“Ohh, is the princess mad at me now? I’m so scared!” he grins, clearly pleased with himself.

“You’re impossible” you say almost to yourself.

You kept walking for a few more hours, taking occasional breaks to catch your breath and sip some water. The trail seemed endless, but the beauty of the forest made it worth the effort.

As you trudged along, you noticed the sky darkening. Grey clouds, rolling in with alarming speed. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves more aggressively.

A man in uniform hurrying down the trail called you out. "Hey, you guys need to find shelter! A big storm is coming in fast. There's no way you'll make it back down in time"

Panic start to appear in all of your eyes.

“Wait? Seriously?” Nancy asks.

“Yes! There’s a motel that’s a few minutes away, to your left” the guy informs you. “I don’t know how much room they have left, cause I’ve been sending some people there already. But you should go now”

Finally after quickening your pace, you spot the outline of a motel nestled among the trees. You hurry towards it. As you approach, you see the motel was old but resistant.

You reach the door and push it open, stumbling inside just as the storm unleashed its full fury. Inside, it was dim and musty, but at least it was dry.

“Hello, uh, we need room for six, please” Nancy is the first one to get to the register and talk to the old woman who was reading a newspaper as if she hadn’t heard you coming in.

“$70 the night” she answers without even looking up at you.

“Uhh… okay, we’ll take it” Nancy says and as you all reach for you wallets, the woman gives you three keys.

“There’s only three rooms left, two with queen beds and one with two separate single beds” she speaks again, as slowly as she can apparently.

“SEPARATE BED” Robin shouts fast.

“ME TOO” Steve is quickly to join her on calling dibs for that room. Not wanting to share a bed.

“Wait! No!” you complain. “Why would you get it just cause you screamed?”

“We called dibs, sorry sweetie” Robin explains.

“But that’s not fair, we should have discussed it!” Eddie joins in.

“Too late” Steve says handing the money to the woman and taking the key of their room.

“Come on guys, maybe they have a couch” Jonathan tries to make you feel better as he also pays and picks a key to their room.

“Are you actually making us share a bed?!” you ask them offended.

“Maybe it’ll help you become friends!” Robin tells you.

After paying and grabbing that stupid key, you all go to your rooms. As you walk in you notice that, in fact, there is no couch.

“Fuck” Eddie complains once again. “I’ll take the floor, let’s just find some blankets that I can sleep on”

And you turn that room upside down trying to find some. But the only blanket in the room is the –only– one on the bed.

“There’s nothing here!” you sit on the bed admitting defeat. “We’re both gonna have to sleep on the bed. I’m gonna freeze without a blanket and you can’t sleep on the bare floor, you’d freeze too”

“If you wanted to sleep with me, you could’ve just said so” Eddie jokes.

“Not now, Munson! Really not in the mood!”

After each getting ready for bed, you start building a wall of pillows in the middle. Separating his part of the bed from yours.

“I bet you wouldn’t make Steve have a wall of pillows” he mumbles, but you’re able to hear him nonetheless.

“Did you not listen when I said not now?!”

“See, that’s the problem with you. You think you can just walk in here acting like you own the fucking place. Newsflash, princess, not everyone is going to fall at your feet following your little orders!” Eddie gets mad for real this time, but so are you.

“I’m so sorry for trying to make this less uncomfortable! Actually, if you want I’ll even cuddle you while we sleep!”

“Shut up” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“No really, we should even make out before sleeping while we’re at it! Maybe that’ll prove to you that I don’t fucking like Steve”

“Yeah, you wish” Eddie comments.

“Actually, I think you wish. Giving that you’re always trying to flirt with me when we argue and giving how jealous you seem to be about Steve” you notice.

“I’m not fucking jealous. And you’re the one suggesting to fucking make out!”

“See, I think you do want to. You’re just too much of a pussy to even admit it” you whisper close to his face.

“Oh my God, princess!” Eddie starts laughing arrogantly. “You wouldn’t even be able to handle me”

“Oh yeah, you’re right! I could not handle your two centimetres because I would be too busy laughing my ass off at your angry half inch” you respond at his face.

But he doesn’t say anything back. He just looks at you. His jaw clenching, eyes darkening, breath heaving.

Before you can react, he closes the distance in one swift, aggressive movement. Gripping your arms tightly, he kissed you fiercely and angrily, his lips bruising against yours, as if trying to channel all the pent-up emotions into that kiss.

To say that you're shocked would be an understatement. But you did kiss him back. How could you not? With all the ardor and sentiment that he was putting into that kiss?

That fucking kiss.

After he felt your lips moving along with his in a dance, he let all the anger go. The kiss became passionate and intense instead of angry. Like you were finally letting go. Stopped overthinking and finally giving in.

You didn't need to talk. You didn't want to. Instead, you put one hand on his haw and the other on his hair, feeling it in between your fingers, bringing him even closer.

He sighs, holding a grunt as he feels you play with his hair. His hands move lower to your hips, feeling the upper part of your body in the process.

A fight for dominance is held up between you two. He bites your lip harshly, and you let out a little gasp that allows him to win. He's playing dirty. You're not surprised.

He starts to push you down slowly, so you're lying on the bed with him on top of you.

Your hands travel lower as well as you feel his back. You wonder if he has any tattoos there as well.

He dares to leave your lips alone as he lowers his kisses to your jaw and then your neck. He kisses and bites and licks all over your neck. You can bet that he is leaving marks as purple as a grape.

It turns you both on even more.

Eddie feels like he's flying. He's even touching the clouds. Marking you all up is only an image that haunts him in his fantasies. Like when he can't sleep, or is in the shower, or after fighting with you all evening and you're looking so beautiful and you're being such a brat. That's when he imagines leaving you all bruised out. But he's actually doing it right now, and he's going feral.

You start to feel like you're too dressed. His hands go under your shirt, and he starts to pull it up. You pull your arms up as well so he can take it off. His kisses keep traveling lower on your body. Your chest, your shoulders, the top of your breasts. He stops there. Making out with one of your nipples over the lace of your bra while pinching the other. You start moaning, your hips move searching friction on your core, and he lowers his hips so you can start dry humping him.

You feel his smirk against your sensitive skin as well as his hard on against your centre. Mocking your desperation. You're not surprised.

He moves up, meeting face to face once again. "So desperate for me, aren't you princess?" he whispers so closely to you face you can feel his lips moving and his evil smile too.

He watches you breath hard and your legs trying to close searching for that friction in between once more.

"Ask me nicely and I'll take care of you" he proposes and you roll your eyes.

You can't. You won't.

"Beg for it, princess" he tries again. "Let me hear you"

You shake your head. You're playing difficult, but Eddie likes a challenge.

"No? You're not gonna beg for me? Alright princess, you know what I'm gonna do?" he pauses to think. "I'm gonna make you cum so fast on my tongue you'll be embarrassed, and then you'll know how much of a desperate slut you can be for me"

You want to laugh and tell him off, but you are so intrigued by his confidence at the same time. You settle for a defiant look thrown at him, he catches it and smirks again. Something tells you you'll be seeing that smirk quite a lot tonight.

He unhooks your bra and throws it somewhere in the room, he squeezes your tits and caresses your nipples making a mental note to keep playing with them later. His hands travel down to your pants which are the next item being thrown away inside the room.

He takes a second to admire the view of you only on those white panties and he feels his cock jump. He proceeds to take your underwear off too, but this item is put inside his back pocket.

He puts your legs over his shoulders and lowers to be closer to your pussy. He bites his lip admiring how fucking pretty and perfect it looks. He wastes no more time and dives in.

He licks it and kisses it and sucks on it drunk on your taste. He fucking makes out with your clit and has you meowing and arching back like a damn cat.

His hands grab your thighs so hard he's probably leaving marks there too. He sighs and hums and laughs against your pussy hearing your pretty moans.

He looks up at you as you look down at him and you both feel like you could just cum at the sight alone. Your cheeks blushed, eyes watery, hair a mess, lips swollen and little moans are still coming out of them. He looks up at you while still sucking on your clit so fucking good. His eyes are covered by his bangs so you reach to move them to the side. His puppy eyes look straight at you, his hair is also a mess, and his hands are gripping you with so much force his skin as well as yours becomes whiter. And his rings feel cold and addictive against you.

You try to fight your orgasm but looking at him makes it impossible. It hits all throughout your body so good that you cry out his name as you pull on his hair.

As you catch your breath, he sits up and washes all your wetness off his face with the back of his hand, all that with a big smirk on so proud of himself.

"Still doubting me?"

You grunt, annoyed, and bring him closer. You pull his shirt over his head and take a second to admire his bare chest and arms covered in tattoos. You unbutton and unzip his pants. He's just watching you act so desperate for him to undress, enjoying every second of it like the cocky motherfucker he can be.

"Need help?" he whispers on your ear, and you nod with a pout. He stands up and takes his pants of slowly.

"These too?" he asks, signalling his boxers. You nod as you feel even hotter paying attention to the big tent he has on them.

He puts them down too, standing up proudly as you look at his big cock. "Half inch you said?" he teases you, and you look up at him as if telling him to shut the fuck up.

You sit up facing his dick. You grab it gently as you keep looking at it. How is it so... pretty? How the fuck does Eddie manages to be pretty everywhere. Even what you thought could not be pretty. He manages to make it look beautiful.

A mischievous thought crosses your mind. And you start leaving some kisses on the tip. Even a lick here and there.

He gasps unexpectedly. You put the tip in your mouth, moving your tongue around it. He lets out a little moan. You look up at him, he's already looking at you. And you proceed to slowly put all of it in your mouth while maintaining eye contact. His tip touches your throat, and you have to fight a gag. You still have a full fist grabbing the rest that didn't fit your mouth. He moans again at your little show. You close your eyes and start moving your head up and down. Eddie moans louder this time, and hands stop your movements.

"As much as I enjoy this, princess, and I really fucking am" he lets you know. "I want to cum once I'm inside of your perfect little pussy, can I?"

You take him out of your mouth with a 'pop' at the end and look at him defiantly once again. "Beg for it" you challenge him feeling proud of yourself.

He laughs. "Are you seriously telling me to beg for it while you're still practically on your knees for me?"

You won't let him win this one, so you lay back again resting on your elbows. "Beg for it"

He takes a big breath in ogling over all of your body on display for him and only him. He'll let you win this one because his dick is throbbing at the sight before him.

His hands travel up your legs and your hips to your waist. "Please, princess" he says once his face is closer to yours.

"Please, let me fuck you so good" he starts humping his dick against your pussy which makes you both gasp.

"Please, please, please" he kisses your cheek to sugar-coat you.

"Eddieee" you move your pelvis up and down against him. "Do it, put it in"

And he wastes no time to do so. Pushing his tip inside and you both gasp. He bites his lip and thrusts to enter you completely.

"Oh, fuck" your head is thrown back and you lay back down. He feels so big and so fucking good in you.

"Mhh, fuck princess" he lowers his body to be chest to chest with you. "You feel so good baby, so tight around me"

You have to bite your tongue to stop you from moaning his name, you can't keep inflating his ego.

"Don't get all quiet now. You're always talking and the one time I wanna hear you..." he teases you.

"Earn it" you manage to get out. It's ironic how your lips are almost bleeding from how hard you're biting on them to stop you from moaning as hard as you want to, but you still tell him to fuck you better.

Eddie knows what you're doing, but he likes playing with you too. So he accepts the challenge.

He gets up on his knees against the bed and takes your legs to pull you closer to him. You instantly wrap them around his hips. He wraps a hand around your throat and he looks like he's about to say something, but instead, he enters you again. A moan escapes from your mouth instantly, and you see his big smirk back.

He starts a hard and fast pace with his thrusts as you hear his sighs against your ear. You can't help the whines and moans that escape you now. Your hands go to his back scratching him, and pulling at his hair, but it only makes him moan harder.

He lowers his head to your breasts once again and keeps kissing them as he fucks you. You arch back again, because you can feel him everywhere. And he feels so so good.

He feels you clench around his dick and he thinks he could just cum right now. So he starts playing with your clit with his fingers.

"Eddiee... 'm so closee" you whine pulling him somehow even closer.

"Yeah? You are?" you nod desperately. "Beg for it" he whispers and smirks right after saying it.

You roll your eyes but it doesn't take much to convince you this time.

"Please, Eddie," he was about to tell you that you can do better, but beat him to it. "Please baby, you feel so good inside of me, so big. Eddie, please"

Eddie has to stop himself from cuming -which he almost does. "Cum for me, baby"

And you do. Your orgasm hits even harder than the first one. You gasp and whine without even thinking about it.

Few seconds after that, Eddie can't take it anymore. He feels you clench even harder while you cum and it becomes too much. So he lets go too while moaning your name against your skin.

You take a few seconds to catch your breaths when you feel Eddie pull out —and after admiring how his cum drips out of your pussy— he gets up, puts on his boxers and goes to the bathroom, only to come back with a wet towel to clean you up. To say he surprised you again was an understatement. Who would have thought he would be so careful?

After you go to the bathroom as well —with wobbly legs Eddie smirks about— and change into some comfy clothes, you both lay down. No wall pillow this time. And are quick to fall asleep after all the exercise you did today.

The next morning wasn’t so sweet. Loud knocking on your bedroom’s door accompanied a loud Robin telling you to get up already.  

Waking up all curled up with him was bound to happen. But if someone would have told you yesterday morning that today you would be waking up with Eddie Munson spooning you, you would have laughed at their face.

But here you are, and to be honest, it had been a while since you slept so peacefully.

You feel him groaning against the skin of your shoulder, holding you tighter.

You slowly opened your eyes to accustom to the light.

“Did you end up killing each other last night?! Answer me!” Robin shouts again from the other side of the door.

“Certainly feels like it” Eddie murmurs and laughs at his own joke.

“We’re awake! Calm down!” you let her know.

“We have to leave so then we can breakfast, so hurry up!” she lets you know.

You get up and start tiding up. Eddie is slower, he sits on the bed barely opening one eye to look at you and smiles. “Good morning, princess”

You look at him and a little smirk escapes from your lips. “Hey” you greet him shyly.

You both start changing to get down and tidy everything down. After you both brush your teeth, you go to pick up your backpack but he stops you to pull you in close to him.

“Good morning” he says again with his face close to yours while he pulls a strand of your hair behind your ear. Then he proceeds to kiss you, sweetly this time. Which warms your heart. You kiss him back playing with his hair once again.

“Hi, Munson” you say sweetly against his lips.

“You look beautiful in the morning” he admits but before you can even react, the knocking on your door is back.

“Okay! Okay! We’re coming!” Eddie stops them. “Jesus”

After getting down, you were waiting for them to explain where you would be having breakfast but as soon as they see you they start looking at you funny.

“What?” Eddie asks being as confused as you but they all start laughing.

“What is going on?” you ask again.

“Are we just gonna pretend like nothing happened?” Jonathan asks now.

“Yeah, were you gonna act like you still hate each other today?” Steve teases.

And you understand all the laughter. You and Eddie look at each other surprised and apparently this is also very funny because they start laughing again.

“Oh fuuuck” Jonathan starts mocking the way Eddie sounded last night also acting like moaning your name.

“Oh Eddie, so close!” Steve joins him acting like you.

Your face is as red as a tomato right now and you feel like you could just die, it would be better than taking whatever this is. You hide your face in Eddie’s shoulder after he just rolls his eyes fighting another smirk.

He laughs at you, put stills hugs you.

“You wanted us to like each other…” He defends you two.

“Yeah, apparently you took that very literal” Robin teases after catching her breath.

[gyuwoncheol]

Down Bad

Pair: Mingyu x f!reader

Genre: fluff, inspired by soft Mingyu during that GyuHan live

Summary: Clingy, lovesick Mingyu just wants your undivided attention

Warnings: tipsy! Gyu, mentions of alcohol, use of pet names, so much fluff, barely proofread

WC: 1.7k

Author's Note: look at me actually publishing something. This is once again very self-indulgent because Gyu was just so so adorable in that live and it had me in shambles. Shoutout to my sweet Cherry @shuadotcom for listening to me fawn over Mingyu when this live happened and building ideas of the scenes with me! I love you darling!

Author’s Note 2.0: LISTEN, SHORT HAIR MINGYU IS HANDSOME OKAY. I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY SOME DON’T LIKE IT ON HIM??? LIKE BRO GET YOUR EYES CHECKED. But seriously, it does kill me when I watch Gyu kinda second guess his new hairstyle. Like I know he just laughs it off most times, but I hope the self doubt doesn’t eat him up. I will die defending his short hair. idc.

“Is it bad?” You grimace as soon as Seungcheol releases you from his hug and leads you through the hall.

Cheol laughs, “well…” he stops walking to look at you, “he’s not drunk… yet. But he did get tipsy quite fast.”

“That’s cause he’s also tired,” you reasoned, “but thanks for calling me, I don’t think I’d want him to drive home by himself and—“

“Oh no no,” the leader interrupts, resuming his steps towards the dining area where you could already faintly hear your boyfriend whining, “he asked us to call you. Besides, you know that if he did get drunk, I’d force him to crash here.”

“Oh.”

“Babyyyy!” Mingyu shoots up from his seat and rushes to you with arms wife open when you surface in the room. He was beaming at the sight of you, puppy senses fully kicking in. A faint smell of alcohol and his cologne hits your nose when he bends down and engulfs you in a hug, his face nuzzling deep into your neck.

“Miss you,” he mumbles with a tight squeeze and you run your fingers through his short locks.

“Missed you too, bub. Should we get you home?”

Mingyu pulls you off him to hold you by your shoulders, his lips pursed and eyebrows scrunching, “no no, not yet. Comeeee, join usssss.”

You’re dragged by your tall boyfriend to the dining table, both Seungcheol and Jeonghan giggling but also sending you an apologetic look for the state that Mingyu is in.

“What are we doing?” You question when he offers you chopsticks and shows you all the food on the table.

“We’re celebrating Minghao’s birthday so we have to stay first, okay?” Seungcheol laughs at your boyfriend’s justification.

“Aaaand Hao is where exactly?”

Mingyu shrugs, “dunno. But that’s okay, we called him awhile ago already and we even sang for him on live. Do you want a drink?”

You reach out to stop his hands from pouring the alcohol on the glass, “no i’m good.” He looks at you intently and then decides against convincing you to drink. Instead, he sits back down and wraps his arms around your waist, sighing softly when his head rests on your shoulder.

“You okay, my love?” You ask after kissing the top of his head. “Tired?” He nods against your shoulder and hum an affirmative. “Maybe we should go—“

“Noooo,” your gentle giant whines, a full pout on his lips, making both his hyungs laugh at him.

“Okay, okay.”

“We’re still having fun… well, they’re having fun,” Mingyu gestures towards his two older members with scrunched brows.

You reach your arm up to touch his cheek, caressing his soft skin, “And you’re not?”

“They’re making fun of me.”

“We are not!” Seungcheol denies with a laugh.

“You laughed when the fans called me a potato on live.” The two boys start giggling again, recalling the conversation on the many forms of potatoes Mingyu could represent.

“I also said you were handsome with your short hair,” Cheol added, “the potato comment is just funny!”

Jeonghan, who was seated on Mingyu’s other side, now pokes at your boyfriend’s fingers before snorting with a laugh, “heh. french fries.”

Seungcheol and Jeonghan erupt in laughter much to Mingyu’s chagrin, and you yourself couldn’t help but giggle at the antics of the two boys. Mingyu crosses his arms defiantly, sulking like there’s no tomorrow.

“Oh cmon, Gyu, it’s funny!” The group’s resident trickster calls out.

“Babyyyyyy, protect meeee,” your boyfriend whines, hiding his face on your shoulder. Mingyu was no stranger to being teased by his members, and almost always, he’s a very good sport at taking it all in and staying calm and collected. But the facade easily drops the moment you’re around. He gets to be his true self, a big baby. Your big baby. Luckily for him, the boys listen to you.

“Okay, cut it out, guys,” you call, earning a smile from your boyfriend which immediately drops the next second when you say, “the potato is sad.”

“HEY!” Mingyu’s bottom lip juts out as he scowls at you, not at all impressed by your joke. You leave a kiss on his lips and he tries hard to hide the smile.

“I’m kidding, I don’t even know why they think that. You’re my puppy,” you quickly correct, cupping his cheeks and pecking his lips, “my handsome puppy.” That was enough to have your boyfriend unravel his arms and wrap them around your waist, a huge smile on his face as he leans on your shoulder. He was flustered beyond words. If there was one thing Mingyu agreed on, it’s that he was a puppy.

“You’re so whipped,” Jeonghan states the obvious and while you knew it was directed to your boyfriend, it also felt like it was a jab at you. Eitherway, neither you nor Mingyu denied it. Especially Mingyu. He was deeply in love with you and it was written all over his face.

You settle in nicely to a conversation with the boys, discussing the new cafe that just opened near the Hybe building and talking about the recent broadcast shows they’ve done for the comeback.

With each passing minute, the more Mingyu clings onto you like a koala. Mostly smiling and staring at you with lovestruck eyes that would immediately change into a silly face if you looked back at him. Eventually, his head constantly leaned on your shoulder or his face buried in your neck, relishing in the way your hand would subconciously reach up to run your fingers through his hair or scratch lightly at his scalp. You really loved his shorter hairdo, never missing a chance to compliment him about it. When he had cut his hair, he worried you’d stop running your fingers through them, which is why moments like these, even with his shorter strands, always made him sigh in content.

“What’s wrong?” You quiz when he pulls on your shirt sleeve after you laugh at one of Jeonghan’s jokes, your hands detaching from his hair to give the older member a high five. When you look at Mingyu, his eyes were even more half lidded than earlier, and the bags underneath a little more red and puffy.

“Nothin’,” he feigns but you know what he wants.

“Hmm… you sure you just don’t want my whole attention?” Mingyu scrunches his face in shock, like he’s trying to deny the way you just exposed him. But he doesn’t say anything, and instead, juts out his lower lip for his biggest pout of the night.

You decide to tease him a little bit more and roll your eyes playfully, putting your attention back to two of his brothers who were currently going through funny videos of Minghao.

Mingyu huffs loudly and tugs you closer to him, earning a giggle from you. “Okay big boy, I was only kidding, you have my attention,” he tries to maintain his sulking but fails badly when his lips quirk into a smile after you plant a kiss on them.

“I love you,” he whispers, blushing wildly at his own confession and hiding behind your shoulder blades.

“I love you too, Gyu. But can I bring you home now? You look like you’re about to fall asleep any minute.”

“Nooooo,” Mingyu whines loudly.

You were about to reason but Seungcheol beats you to it, “Mingoo, my hyung’s about to come home now. You guys have to leave soon.”

“See, baby? Cheol needs us out of the house.”

“That’s rude,” he complains, “but his hyung likes me. We can stay.”

You flash Cheol an apologetic look, letting him know you got it under control. Just then, you stand up and bend down to cup Mingyu’s face, forcing him to look at you. “Baby, we have to go. If you fall asleep on me here, you bet I won’t be carrying you home. So choose, big guy, do you want to be beside me in bed tonight? Or beside Seungch—“

“OKAY! BYE HYUNGS!” The 6 foot 2 man shoots up from his chair in full height, not even giving you enough time to process things before he’s pulling at your hand and dragging you out of the dining room, “We’re going. Thank you for the food, Coups hyung!”

“YAH!” Jeonghan scolds, “you said you would bring me home!”

[munsonthings86]

sunshine

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: a love-struck steve cooks you dinner for the first time

warnings: cursing, alcohol, bit of backstory, oversimplified summary, steve's parents kinda suck (when do they not), best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, soft!steve

an: i think this is my favorite thing i’ve ever written. i'm so in love with these two. i hope you all enjoy this one as much as i do. * don’t copy my work * (also pretend there's a big city near hawkins for the sake of this pls)

wc: 6.0k

“Ow!” Steve hissed, nicking his finger yet again as he made his best effort to dice pesky onions. The knife was razor-sharp as it was fresh out of its packaging, having never been used yet. Frustrated, he squeezed the band-aid he'd spent a solid ten minutes looking for, tighter on his finger, earning a harsh sting.

"Goddamned knife," he whispered, tightlipped, but as soon as the complaint left his lips he wished to yank it back in. It was the chef's knife you'd bought him along with many other thoughtful housewarming gifts to celebrate Steve moving into his first apartment. Steve had insisted that you return some of the gifts, noting that "one gift was more than he could ever ask for".

In spite of his pleas, you didn't return a single gift. Of course, you didn't. You had bought items you knew Steve would need but would ultimately forget to buy for himself. Just to name a few, you'd gotten him a trash bin for his bathroom, a record player, and the best utensil set that the rest of your Family Video paycheck could buy.

Peering at the odd assortment of household objects you'd lugged into his barren apartment with a bright smile pulling at the corners of your lips, an expression of gratitude and bewilderment claimed his face. Steve's round, chestnut-brown eyes ogled yours as you ranted and raved, explaining your thought process behind each purchase.

The record player was for nights like these. Peaceful nights indoors, simply enjoying each other's company without the tense presence of his parents who would shout for him to turn that damn music down if he even thought about letting the needle hit the groove of the record.

"Now we can play music as loud and as much as we want to," he remembered you saying, blushing at your use of the word "we". Though you two were only best friends and have been since grade school, Steve couldn't help but fantasize about a life with you. You, drowning in one of his bigger-than-you t-shirts, prancing around the apartment as you listened to some your favorite records.

He'd begun pondering on how he would rearrange the bit of furniture he had, that'd allow for space for your belongings as well, before you lured him out of his thoughts, defending the bin.

From what he gathered, you bought the garbage bin due to his burning inability to keep his bathroom clean. Steve was someone who took great care of his appearance, always well-kempt and attentive to even the smallest of details.

His bathroom did not reflect this, whatsoever. He had a bad habit of harboring empty cans and bottles of Farrah Fawcett spray that littered the already limited counter space he had in his en suite bathroom.

Steve was such a boy when it came to tidiness.

Everyone knew that about Steve, though. What they didn’t know, however, was how skilled he was in a kitchen. After being left to his lonesome whenever his parents would venture off to one of their many business trips, Steve spent his nights learning to cook after his allowance dwindled and he couldn't afford pizza delivery anymore. The second he'd clock in for his shift at Family Video, he'd make a beeline to where you stood, stocking VHS tapes, and instantly began buzzing and bustling about the new recipe he tried the night before.

You had begged him to let you come over one night to taste one of his home-cooked meals, but his response was always the same. "You can't rush perfection, sweets. But I promise, when I'm ready to grace the world with my master chef skills, you'll be the first to know."

You would roll your eyes dramatically at him but admittedly, you felt a sense of pride wash over you whenever Steve would tell you about his cooking endeavors. It may not seem like a big deal to others, but you knew how much his parents being so negligent, so often, bothered him.

Though they were never the most warm and affectionate, there seemed to be a colder chill and heavier sense of loneliness in the house when they were gone. That's why you never denied Steve whenever he'd call late at night asking if it was okay to spend the night at your house.

He always felt at home there.

Steve learning to cook for himself meant that his parents' absence was finally beginning to help him grow; no longer craving validation and tenderness from his family. He got that when he was with you. That's what the utensil set was for. A silent sign saying that though his parents weren't there, you were.

"Don't get me wrong, sunshine, I love the gift, but why's this knife so funny looking?" Steve asked, squinting his eyes at the sharp object that looked like it was from some alien universe. It had three square-like holes infiltrating the blade, and the tip came to an up-turned point that split in two. The handle was the only average looking part about it.

"That, my friend, is a cheese knife," you answered matter-of-factly, gazing at the box that had all of the included utensils neatly labeled.

"They make knives specifically for cheese?"

"Apparently, yeah," you snorted, tossing the empty box off to the side of the room with the other discarded cardboard that you made a mental note to move to the recycling bin on your way out. Steve never recycled. Bad habit he picked up from his parents, you figured.

"Well, I can't wait to use my weird new knife. Thank you. Seriously," Steve smiled softly as he watched you with those big brown eyes that voiced his gratitude and sentiment louder than his words ever could.

"The best weird chef has to have the best weird equipment. You're welcome," you grinned, toying with the loose thread dangling from your distressed band tee, as your eyes collided with Steve’s.

Looking at Steve was hard.

In the midst of quiet and almost intimate moments like these, the nerves bolting through your body screamed at you to look anywhere else, but the greed of your heart yearned for you to keep drinking in the deep chocolate pools that were Steve Harrington's eyes.

The two of you gazed at each other for another second, though it felt identical to a blissful eternity, until Steve furrowed his eyebrows after registering what you'd just uttered. "Did you just call me weird?" He asked, hand on his hip as if he's offended, though he truthfully isn't because he's positive you're infinitely weirder than he is, and he's more than willing to debate with you for hours on that topic.

"Nooo," you sang, quickly turning away to distract yourself with some unpacking that Steve had called you over to help him with, which you happily agreed to. A little extra time with him was time well spent.

"Yeah, okay," he rolled his eyes. He happily tucked away the flashy silverware he'd poached from his parent's kitchen into the darkest corner of the drawer, leaving the less flashy but much more appreciated utensils you bought him, front and center, ready to be shown off.

"Oh those? My best friend got them for me. Aren't they nice? Did you know they make knives for cheese?" He imagined himself saying, hoping he'd get the opportunity to boast about them to his guests some time soon.

Steve smiled to himself at the memory, angling the cutting board that harbored a pile of diced onions that he'd at last conquered, into a bowl, sliding them off with the blade of a knife that was a lot less odd shaped compared to his trusty cheese knife. It didn't even have to be that specific memory. It could've been any imagery of you being the effortlessly sarcastic, intelligent, breath-taking person that you were, and it would be the warm light to inevitably guide him out of whatever dark mood that dared to plague him.

Steve was so helplessly in love with you.

April 14, 1978, he could never forget the day, was particularly dreary. So dreary it made Steve begin to question why the spring time was thought to be such a radiant, pleasant season when all it ever did was bring rain and provoke people with allergies. Steve slammed his blaring alarm off with a groan, never bothering to pry open his tired eyes.

The sky was dark and dreadful, concealing the golden rays of the sun he yearned to see. As he trudged through the house, reluctantly gearing himself up for yet another torturous day of middle school, Steve silently prayed for some unorthodox happenstance that would call for the canceling of school.

But much to his dismay, that wasn't the case.

When the bell pierced through the classroom speakers, alerting the beginning of Steve's favorite class, P.E., he rushed to the locker room, jumping into his gym uniform, as he was determined to continue his unfaltering streak of dodgeball victories.

Steve was in the zone, taking out his opponents left and right as if it was nothing. If dodgeball was an Olympic sport, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that he could've won multiple gold medals.

Then you came.

Sauntering into sixth grade gym class, adorning a lengthy, bright yellow dress with your hair done up, looking as anxious as can be. It was your first day at Hawkins Middle and you'd just transferred halfway into the semester, all thanks to your parents decision to move to the small town, leaving New York City and all your friends behind.

Everyone turned their curious heads to peer at you, whispering amongst each other, prompting you to clutch your books tighter to your chest as if to shield yourself. Your soft smile as you looked around at your new classmates instantly made Steve's chest and stomach warm and gooey inside, making him want nothing more than to walk up to you and convince you to be his friend. Steve hated how gossipy his classmates were, as it clearly made you uncomfortable, but he couldn't bring himself to look away either.

The way the illuminous medallion hue complimented your skin tone was nothing short of art. To him, you were the sun personified. The sun he was so eager to see.

Due to your lack of sports attire, Coach Daniels had you sit on the bleachers, watching as the other kids resumed their game of dodgeball after mumbling a "warm" welcome to you, per Coach's request.

Steve lost his first game of dodgeball that day. He just couldn't seem to focus when you were perched just a few feet away, thumbing through your withered book, looking like one of the prettiest girls he'd ever laid his adolescent eyes on. Steve, or the boy with the hella good hair as you dubbed him in your diary later on that night, was too enamored with you to be bothered by the taunts coming from his friends. He jogged over to you, offering to keep you company until fourth period began, which you happily accepted.

And ever since then, the two of you have been as thick as thieves.

"Hawkins PD, open up!" Steve recognized your muffled voice, though you deepened it, to imitate a police officer. Your signature three knocks followed, urging butterflies to erupt throughout his stomach, as he longed to see you. It couldn't have been more than twenty-four hours since the two of you had last seen each other, but even one hour without you was an hour way too long for poor Steve.

"It's open", Steve called, tossing a hand towel over his shoulder, setting the stove ablaze, planting a pot over the flame. Right on time, he thought.

"Hey, Harrington," you smiled as you struggled to enter, cradling two bottles of rosé wine and your purse in your arms, pushing the door open with the help of your hip.

"Hey, sunshine. Lemme get those for ya," Steve offered, stowing your bearings on the counter gently, while you kicked your shoes off, mumbling a "thanks".

A warm amber light casted from the ceiling of the kitchen spilled into the shadowy living room a few feet away, like a neglected can of paint. The only thing that remained un-melted by the darkness was the quiet record player, as if the generous light knew you'd be looking for it the minute you walked in.

"How was your day?" Steve smirked as he watched you rush over to the object he swore was the only reason you liked to come over, sifting through the vinyl's searching for your favorite one. What’s Love Got To Do With It by Tina Turner. Steve spotted it before you did. Absentmindedly, you responded, “Not too shabby, ya know? How was yours?”

“Yeah, it was alright.”

You crouched down to the two tier storage table, running a finger across the spines of the records, searching for your beloved song. It quickly became the song you most adored when you'd bought the tape for your Walkman a few years prior. Your days weren't complete unless you played the song at least twice, so much so that Steve found himself quietly humming the song to himself whenever he'd miss you. He even caught himself doing that dumb little finger dance you normally did whenever you listened to a song you really liked. He'd never tell you that, though.

Much to your dismay, you couldn't seem to spy that sneaky record. You dropped your hand disappointedly, faintly fearsome that it'd been misplaced. Steve's apartment wasn't huge, but it wasn't exactly tidy either. “It’s right there, sweets. To your left.” So you diverted your attention to the left. No Tina Turner. “No, your other left.”

“Here?” you pointed. Steve hummed in confirmation.

“Well, that’s not the left, Steve. That’s the right,” was your response that you punctuated with a roll of your tired eyes. Apart from knowing how to get to Skull Rock with his eyes closed, the boy had zero sense of direction. It was something you found both endearing and infuriating. It depended on the day, really.

“Potato, potahto.” Oh, Steve. Melting butter into the burning pan in front of him that he almost completely forgot about, all thanks to your beautiful presence, he began sautéing his diced onions along with some fresh garlic. "Well, speaking of 'potahtoes' you need to be cooking some, 'cause you promised me dinner tonight," you smiled tight-lipped, cocking your head at an angle.

You felt the unpleasant sensation of your stomach growling, cursing you, at the heavenly thought of food as your shift at Family Video earlier today was unforgiving to your non-existent breakfast. You fumbled with the vinyl a bit as the mouthwatering aroma of home cooking stormed your senses and Steve spoke once more. "Feisty today, aren't we?"

"Just a tad," you laughed quietly.

"Well, I hate to disappoint you but tonight we're not having potatoes. I'm making your favorite," he pointed, shuffling the pan to give it a gentle stir. He made sure to turn to face you in time to see your hopefully delighted reaction. "Alfredo?!" you spun around with a glittering grin, almost knocking over Steve's plant. A fake one, of course. A real plant was a bit too much responsibility for him.

At the nod of his head, your cheesy smile soften to a smaller, less toothy one as you watched Steve while he resumed cooking. What you failed to share with your best friend was that the last phrase you'd actually use to describe your day was "not too shabby". Besides waking up almost an entire hour past the start of your shift (Keith made sure to give you an earful about that) and everyone and their mother in town deciding to be at Family Video today, it seemed like your day was never-ending. The only thing keeping your mood from turning stink to sour was the idea of going to see Steve.

Steve was kind of magical in that way. Anger, sadness, anxiety, you name it, it was no match for Steve. Though he was no poet, he had this way with words that would never fail to make you feel so comforted. So safe. Any instance where Steve had to talk you out of whatever mental turmoil you were enduring, it felt you were being endlessly wrapped in a cozy, tight blanket, sheltering you from all the darkness.

How Steve knew you were having a shit day and needed your favorite meal along with your favorite boy? Lord knows. His ability to read you without even needing to be near you was nothing short of wizardry. But like you said. Steve was magical.

"You're the best," you proclaimed, prompting a mumbled sly remark from your chef for the evening, before the music began. Being here, along with the divine sound of Tina's ethereal voice and pasta boiling in water, was more than enough to make you feel like you were right at home, though your true address was miles away. When the time to depart would make its cursed arrival, it was never easy to leave, especially with the way Steve begged for you to stay, using those unfairly adorable puppy dog eyes that paired beautifully with his lengthy lashes, against you.

And it always worked. Well, not always. You had some degree of self-control. But more times than not, you couldn't help but to cave in to his protests. How could you resist? It was Steve.

With a satisfied grin that carved deep smile lines into his blushing cheeks, he'd tuck his sheets snug around your body, repeatedly asking you if you were comfortable enough. His bed was cloud-like, plush and doughy and his pillows smelled like his shampoo and conditioner, a hint of cologne on his comforter. It was like you were trapped in a cocoon of Steve. You wanted to tell him you were beyond comfortable, that there, in his bed, you were in just about your favorite place on Earth but, habitually, you concluded that a simple nod would suffice.

Crawling onto the empty space beside you, he made sure to face you, leaving a soft squeeze on your shoulder before humming "G'night, sunshine," closing his eyes and tucking his hands under his head. And like always, Steve was a perfect gentleman, dead set on never getting under the covers himself when you'd sleep over.

Guilt would disrupt your relaxation at the sight of the brisk night chill building little hills on his freckled arms, though you selfishly loved the way he'd cuddle up to steal some of your body heat. His plump lips would part as he drifted into a peaceful slumber, light snores and chirping crickets being your lullaby.

You hoped to have another night like that soon.

In the midst of times like those, storms of wonder and doubt raged on. Was Steve like this with everyone else? Were you being silly thinking that you and Steve could be more than friends? Being Steve's best friend for nearly a decade, you knew he wasn't exactly a prude. His King Steve era was honestly one of your least favorites. Though he reserved his usual tenderness and affection all for you, you've witnessed a whole slew of girls enter and leave Steve's life, and none of them looked like you.

You wanted nothing more than to be one of the girls he'd have leaned up against his locker, arm resting next to their head, cheeks fanned by his minty breath as he whispered honeyed words. You craved dates at the drive-in theater in Steve's burgundy 1983 BMW only to neglect the movie and end up making out, like he did with other girls.

When Steve would bring his latest lover around, desperately, you did your damnedest to bury your jealousy and and fill its grave with merriment for him, because if anyone deserved to be happy, it was Steve. But the girls at school only wanted to be with Steve because of his status and all the flashy things he could buy them.

The flashy things were dull to you, though.

You wanted to be with Steve because you wanted to hold his hand and press soft kisses to his cheek. To hug him a little tighter and little longer than a best friend normally would. To run your fingers through his fluffy hair whenever he would grow stressed because you knew it calmed him down. To make him breakfast in bed when he was sick and even when he wasn't. To love him your fullest potential.

But you had to settle for this. Calves tucked under your thighs with a blanket draped over your legs as you stared off into space, longing for someone you thought you couldn't have, not knowing he was stealing glances of you wondering what was running through your pretty little head.

Resting your arm against the back of the sofa, holding your head up, your lips were downturned in a pout, eyebrows pulled together as you studied the throw pillow a few inches away from you. A little pillow can't be that interesting, something has to be bothering you, he thought. He was unapologetically curious to know if pressing his lips against your own would make that frown melt into that sweet smirk you usually had.

Steve hated when you were unhappy. It made his mind race. Did someone say something to you? Did someone do something to you? Did you eat today? How was your shift? Why did you lie when you said your day "wasn't too shabby"? Obviously it was shabby. Look at your face. That tired and troubled, cute little face. What can he do to fix it? You were his sunshine, you deserved to be happy, always.

Giving the pot a final stir and turning the flame off, Steve carelessly tossed the grease-stained hand towel flopped over his shoulder, down by the sink, strolling over to where he'd earlier set down the two bottles of wine. White Zinfandel. Neither you or Steve were wine connoisseurs, but when you called Nancy panicking about how extensive the selection at the liquor store was, she swore by it.

Balancing two glasses and a single bottle of the rose-tinted alcohol, Steve took an extra glance at your face, deciding to scoop up the second bottle into his arms. By the looks of it, it was gonna be one of those nights.

You tried to hide your smile as you noticed he was coming over, a slight grin on his face as he set the glasses down. You and him both knew he was only coming to cause trouble. He set the delicate haul down on to the thrifted wooden coffee table in front of you, slipping you one of those comforting 'Steve smiles' he usually did.

Like the forgotten towel, he threw himself down on the couch next to you, warm hand having a much softer landing on the plush of your thigh; a familiar and welcomed touch. Habitually, you curled up closer to him, no longer able to hide your smile.

"Why so glum, chum?" He tilted his chin down, slightly poking his bottom lip out, as he looked at you through batting eyelashes.

Laughing through your nose and subsequently parading a grin that displayed nothing but teeth and hollow happiness, you remarked, "What do you mean? Don't you see me smiling?"

You were fooling absolutely no one. Steve knew you were sad. And, goddamn it, he was gonna get it out of you.

"You know exactly what I mean, you weren't smiling just a few seconds ago until I came over. You're welcome, by the way, I'm flattered that I have such an effect on you," he smirked, placing a hand on his chest in gratitude.

"Okay, now I'm glum again," you roll your eyes at his not-so discreet cockiness. You hid your face in your hands, resting your forehead on Steve's shoulder. It was hard with muscle, but soft with tenderness and safety. "I was smiling at the wine, for your information."

The palm of your hand that pressed against your face muffled your words, but Steve could still understand what you said, it was evident in the way your tone was laced with satire.

"Ah, yes, that makes way more sense" Steve replied, monotone. His thumb began coasting along your skin as he urged you, "Alright, jokes aside. How are you really feeling?"

Hoisting your head up, you almost answered before he continued, "And don't give me that 'not too shabby' crap 'cause that frown you had going on earlier already snitched on ya."

When the hell did he get so observant? Steve was no idiot, but sometimes things needed to be spelled out for him. But come to think of it, you never had to spell things out for Steve whenever it came to you. He just always had a way of knowing.

"I don't know, Steve. Honestly. Some days are just a bit tougher than others. Today was one of those days," you murmured, avoiding the attentive gaze he was burning into your shifty eyes.

He slowly nodded as he processed your words, head falling on top of yours as you again found comfort on his shoulder. His eyes fluttered shut as you began mimicking the affection he was giving you on your thigh, rubbing his arm through the creamy cotton material of his crewneck. You hadn't seen it before. This one was new. So were the jeans he'd paired with it.

"Why're you dressed so nice, Harrington?"

He laughed more to himself than to you. "Well, the food can't be the only thing that looks good, you know? Wanted to look nice too. It's our first dinner together, after all," he mumbled the last bit.

Steve felt the skin around your eyes tighten against his shoulder as your eyebrows scrunched together. "We've had dinner together before, though."

"This one's different," he replied, almost instantly. You'd hoped Steve's eyes were still closed so that he wouldn't see the bashfulness you were weathering, plucking the corners of your lips into a soft smile.

A silence fell between the two of you. Not unusual. Not awkward. Never unusual or awkward. There was a mutual cherishment of moments like these. Shamelessly invading each other's personal space on the couch as if it was made to only fit one person, music playing lowly the distance, but preferring to listen to the sound of the other's breathing.

"How can I make you feel better, sunshine?" Steve questioned, voice still hushed. The volume of your voice wasn't much louder as you responded, thoughtlessly, "You don't have to ask me that. You make me feel better without even trying."

"Oh yeah?" He craned his neck so that his head was impossibly closer to yours, awaiting your confirmation. Steve knew that you enjoyed his company, as he did yours, but he was only joking earlier when he gushed about having such an effect on you. It was now his turn to hide his blush, when you hum, nodding your head fervently.

These were the warm moments that confused you so much more than any subject in school ever did. And unbeknownst to you, it messed with Steve's head too. He'd never been this close with anyone before. Especially not with any of his "girlfriends" in the past. Sure, they'd cuddle and talk about their feelings. But it never felt the way it does with you. Steve was in love with you. It was hopeless.

And he had to make it known. Soon. If not, he swore he'd explode.

"Ready to eat?"

"Mhm," you buzzed, untangling yourself from the envelop of Steve. As he pressed his knuckles into the sofa, willing himself up, you reached for the bottle of wine and a glass, but your hand only made it so far until it felt the sting of a petty swipe from the boy next to you. "Ah ah, missy, dinner first. Lord knows how many hours its been since you last ate."

You snorted, "Relax, it hasn't been that long."

"Oh yeah? When was the last time?" He looked at you with raised eyebrows and an expression that said he already knew your answer was going to be ridiculous. And if there was anything you learned tonight, it was that Steve was highly skilled at knowing when you were lying, so instead, you left him with a goofy smile and giggle that told him he was absolutely right in his assumption.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," the spot where he sat went cold as he left to the kitchen, fixing two plates for the both of you. You moved the drinks and glasses over to the dining table, using a nearby lighter to ignite the accompanying lavender and vanilla scented candles. Tina Turner's vinyl was replaced with Tears for Fears' album Songs from The Big Chair instead, as Steve used his elbow to dim the kitchen lights, hands full with heavy plates of pasta.

"Oh my gosh, this looks so good! Good job, Stevie," you cheered, as he set your plate down in front of you, pouring you a much needed glass of wine. Your hands shook with hunger or excitement, or both, as you picked up your fork, ready to dig in. "Yeah, don't get too psyched yet. Let's hope it tastes as good as it looks."

"I'm sure it does."

His knee rests against yours as he sits adjacent to you, gathering food on his fork, though his eyes are peering at you, awaiting your verdict. The mouthwatering smell of garlic, butter, cheese and other heaven-sent elements overwhelm your nose and you feel like you can't eat it soon enough. You pause for a beat and so does his heart, hand over your messy mouth as you chew. Steve's hand twitches as he contemplates wiping the sauce from the corners of your lips and licking his finger clean.

"Steve," you begin, eyes flickering shut. "I'm gonna need you to cook for me every night. This is so fucking good." The tension in his face eases at your palpable delight, mission well accomplished. He was proud of himself. Very proud. Almost as much as you were of him.

You throw your head back, the purest form of satisfaction consuming you. "I'm glad you like it, I've been trying to nail it for weeks," Steve laughs, finally taking a bite for himself.

"Well, you've succeeded," you beam, washing it down with a sip of wine. Everybody Wants to Rule the World begins playing and you smile at Steve, knowing it was his favorite song at the moment. You nod your head along as Steve hums. A truly peaceful pocket in time.

Through the large windows opening the living room to the rest of Hawkins, you had the perfect view of the bright lights and mountainous buildings from the neighboring city. It was like the sky had flipped on its axis and the stars weren't in the sky anymore, they were among the trees and high rise properties.

"Steve, look how pretty," you point towards the window as his gaze shifts from you to raindrop-riddled glass. "I love being able to see the city so close. Sucks that we can't see the stars, though. I've always wanted to go stargazing."

"Yeah, I remember you mentioning that a while ago. We gotta go one of these days," he replied, shoving a forkful of alfredo into his mouth.

"Oh, did you wanna go too?"

He shrugs his shoulders, chewing before speaking, "Eh, I'm not really a big stars guy. Besides, if I wanna see a pretty little light, all I gotta do is look at you," he says inattentively, going right back to eating as if he hadn't just said the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to you.

"Shut up, Harrington," you roll your eyes, letting out a half-hearted laugh as you take your last bite. How could he flirt with you so easily? So carelessly? Couldn't he see that you loved him and that whenever he says things like that it does something to you? Clueless boy.

"I'm serious. Why do you think I always call you sunshine?" He replies, not a hint of irony in his face.

"Steve," you warn, sitting back in your chair. You didn't know where this conversation was going, and you'd be damned if you got your hopes up for what you always got whenever you did: absolutely nothing.

"It's why I love when you wear yellow. Reminds me of the first time I ever saw you," he pressed. He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Clueless girl.

"Steve," your voice wavered. "What? Why do you keep saying my name like that?" He laughed, dryly.

He grew worried that he was saying too much. Saying things that a person shouldn't say to their best friend. He took a sip of his wine. Then another. Then another. He was considering just downing the whole glass. Maybe he was saying too much.

Screw that, he was in love with you.

"What're you saying to me right now?" You charged, voice a little harsher than what you'd intended, but you demanded an answer. A straightforward one. "I'm saying that I'm done hiding it."

"Hiding what?"

"That I love you."

The revelation yanks your parted lips shut, unsure of what to say next. You had dreamed for what felt like a lifetime for Steve to say those words to you and at last, it was no longer a dream, but instead reality. The rapid pace of your heartbeat could be felt in your chest and ears, and the butterflies in your stomach were more wild and untamed than ever before.

Steve's eyes didn't leave yours, though the stillness from you was killing him. The silence between you two that was once never awkward or unusual, was now painful and nearly unbearable.

Your dilated pupils scanned over his face, relentlessly. The jokey, teasing grin that he often sported when he was messing with you was unaccounted for. Holy shit. The gate to your thoughts opened once more. "You're serious," you whispered.

"How could I not be?" Steve watched you with adoring eyes, the warm light of the candle giving the melted chocolatey pond the sweetest infusion of honey.

"Kiss me."

Forks and butter knives fall to the ground with several, loud unpleasant clanks as Steve leans over the square dining table, hungrily pressing his lips against yours. His lips are garlicky and a little chapped, as yours probably are as well, yet the kiss is nothing short of perfect.

His mouth does a passionate dance against yours as you follow his lead, embracing the plush little pillows with your own. It was both everything you've imagined it'd be and nothing like you'd thought at the same time. You already knew Steve was an amazing kisser. Anyone who went to Hawkins High knew it. But experiencing it for yourself was completely different and new. It was euphoric.

The two of you have to reluctantly pull yourselves off of each other to catch your breaths. This moment was a long time coming.

Steve's hands are still holding onto to either side of your face, unwilling to let you go just yet. Truly savoring every second of the present. His breath fans across your cupid's bow, as he smiles against your lips. "You drive me crazy, you know that?"

Giggling, you wrap your palms and fingers around his wrists, rubbing your nose on his. "Sorry," you shrug, feeling his thumbs caress your warm cheeks.

"Don't be," he shakes his head, engulfing your soft lips into another kiss.

message from jojo: pls comment and reblog if you enjoyed! it means a lot <3

[dollfacefantasy]

You Make Me Cry Every Time

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon's going through a rough patch, and he takes it out on you.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, angst, hurt/comfort, leon is mean in the beginning, toxic behavior i guess, implied age gap

word count: 3.7k

a/n: i was going through it and feeling emo so i wrote this. hope everyone enjoys as always <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight

The clock on the end table reads 2:43. Muted sounds of nightlife fill the space outside the walls of your apartment. You’re sprawled across the couch, half-asleep, with a soft blanket draped over you. You were waiting for your boyfriend to come home. Again.

Leon had been going through a rough patch. He was moody and ready to snap at any moment it seemed. He drank a lot, and he was gone all the time. You knew he had been through so much and there was no end in sight. That’s why you tried to put up with it, but all of it was weighing down on you too.

You sharply inhale as the sound of keys being jammed into the lock on the front door rouses you from your stupor. Sitting up straight, you rub your face tiredly. Your eyes are still adjusting to the darkness of the living room when the door opens. A beam of light from the hallway shoots across the floor, but it’s gone just as fast as it appears. You hear the lock click again and then see his shadow brush through the room as if you aren’t even there.

He’s in the kitchen now, and you’re not even fully sure of what he’s doing. But you pad in his direction anyways. Your soft voice breaks through the tense silence with a gentle call of his name.

“Leon?”

He turns to you. Even in the dark when you can’t fully see, you can feel the harsh nature of his stare.

“What are you doing up? Told you to stop waiting up for me,” he grumbles.

His tone stings, but you continue to approach him.

“I just worry. I can’t sleep if I don’t know you made it home safe,” you explain yourself quietly.

“Just go to bed. I’ll be there in a second,” he says and turns away again. But before he speaks, you swear you could hear him scoff. 

You didn’t understand where his sudden apparent resentment towards you came from. He had always dealt with so much, constantly feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. But until the last few months, he never took it out on you. Now though, it felt like you were dancing across a floor full of glass shards to avoid setting off an outburst of his.

“I just want to make sure you’re alright,” you say, keeping your voice quiet and cautiously laying your hand on his back.

It immediately became clear to you that touching him was the wrong choice though. He shrugs you off and pushes your hand back down to your side. Now that you were closer, you could smell the scent of booze on him. It wasn’t as heavy as previous nights, but it was still present. You retract your hand and stare at him with concern.

“Leon, what’s wrong? Have I done something to upset you? We can talk about it. I-” you try to defuse the situation before he cuts you off.

“Jesus fucking Christ, it’s enough,” he snaps. He fully pulls away from you. “Take a hint. Go to bed.”

He speaks with such disdain for you, it makes your chest ache. “I was just trying to help,” you say, looking like a kicked puppy more and more with each passing moment. He takes no sympathy on you though.

“Well, you aren’t helping. You don’t know shit about my problems, so stop trying to fix them,” he says to you, his voice ice cold.

“I’m not trying to fix anything. I’m just trying to be there for you because I love you!” you defend. His miserable disposition was starting to frustrate you. This wasn’t the first time you’d jumped through these hoops for him.

“Oh, bullshit,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

That slices through you like a knife. Your lips part slightly in shock, and your words tangle up in your throat. You fight back tears, not wanting to seem even more pathetic to him.

“I can see what you want. You want the old me back. But he’s not coming back. He doesn’t exist anymore,” he rants at you.

“I never said that. You can’t get mad at me for problems you’re creating!” you say to him angrily and cross your arms.

“Aw, you don’t want me to get mad at you? Did I hurt your feelings, baby? Am I being mean to you?” he mocks with a cruel smile before his emotionless expression returns, “Grow the fuck up.”

You try to ignore his teasing and work towards a solution, but that really hurt. And it seemed like he said it with no thought or remorse, like he had been storing that and it just came out. Tears burn in your eyes and a lump rises in your throat, but you manage to choke out your next statement. 

“All you do is push me away. I can’t help you because you won’t even tell me what’s wrong,” you say, forcing your voice to stay even.

“I push you away because you can’t handle real problems. You show me that over and over again. I mean, look, you’re almost in tears, and I haven’t said anything that bad,” he says with a gesture to your eyes.

“If I’m so fucking immature and selfish, why are you even with me?” you ask. A few tears leak from your eyes and down your cheeks but you wipe them away as quickly as you can.

“You know, I’ve been asking myself that question a lot recently, and it’s getting harder and harder for me to come up with an answer,” he says. He keeps eye contact with ease. His voice is laced with venom. There’s no trace of anything but bitter anger.

You honestly struggle to come up with a response. But that’s ok because he doesn’t wait for one before he continues speaking.

“I mean really, what do I get from this relationship? I know what you get. You get the attention you’re so fucking desperate for. But me? What do I get?” he asks, “A dumb little girl who follows me around like a lost puppy? I mean you’ve definitely got a pretty face, but it’s everything else that’s getting harder for me to stomach.”

You can’t stop yourself at this point. He knew how to break you down. Your lip juts out ever so slightly and quivers as tears slide down your cheeks. You take a step back from him and look down.

“There we go. Always with the fucking crying,” he sighs. His tone becomes mocking again as he continues. “You want me to kiss it better, sweetheart? Tell you everything’s gonna be ok. That I’m so so sorry.”

“No,” you cry, trying to defend yourself, “I don’t want any of that from you.”

“I’m sure,” he says flatly.

“Fuck you, Leon,” you weep, “I can’t win with you. You’re absolutely hellbent on being miserable. I’m done. Deal with your shit on your own. I don’t give a fuck.”

You turn on your heel and rush off to the bedroom. You fling the door shut, the thud of the slam echoing through the apartment.

At first, Leon didn’t care. His initial reaction was a shrug. He walks over to the couch, puts his feet up on the coffee table, and turns on the tv to some old movie. He was in a pissy mood, and he especially wasn’t in the mood to deal with you.

But as time goes on, and he sits there alone, a sense of shame starts to cast a shadow over his heart. He keeps seeing your face in his head. The soft look in your eyes while they were full tears he caused. Your body language as he ridiculed you, shrinking away from him, eager to get away but afraid of looking weak. He could hear a replay of his voice spitting out every callous thing he could think of. He felt like such an asshole.

It didn’t help that he was surrounded by things of yours. You’d brought out a pillow and blanket for yourself while you stayed up for him. They smelled like you. On the table, you had a book you’d been reading for a while. You’d tell him parts and explain the drama to him when he wasn’t in a bad mood. The tv remotes, spare the one he had grabbed, were organized in the particular way you always did when you watched tv. He felt the void in his heart growing as you stayed shut away in the bedroom.

You weren’t faring much better. You curled up under the comforter on the bed, crying softly into the pillows. You were missing your favorite one since you’d left it out on the couch. You felt a deep ache in your abdomen, a weight that kept you thinking about him and everything he’d said to you.

Despite how tired you’d been before he came home, you couldn’t sleep now. No position felt comfortable. Nothing made the bed feel less empty.

You felt so pathetic. You should be mad at him, furious, enraged. He acted like such a dick. He said things that gave you reasonable grounds to kick him out. But you didn’t feel that way. You didn’t want that. You were heartbroken. He was right. You yearned for him to kiss it better and tell you it was all ok and that he didn’t mean any of it.

Eventually, you couldn’t take it. You give in. It was humiliating, but that was what you chose. You pad into the living room skeptically. You stand a distance from the couch, afraid of setting off another landmine. But if he wanted to yell, you’d let him at this point. You just wanted him.

He sees you standing near the opening to the hallway that entered the living room. You looked so sad, it tore at his heart. Your face was a mess, your posture was so timid. What was wrong with him?

“Come here,” he sighs and pats his lap.

Without hesitation, you cross the room. You’re in his arms, against his chest. Your arms are wrapped around him tight while your head is buried in the crook of his neck. You start crying again, but you keep it as quiet as possible, still hearing always with the fucking crying ringing through your mind.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out as you struggle to restrain a sob. You didn’t even know what you were really apologizing for. “I don’t wanna fight anymore.”

Another deep sigh escapes him. It could have been interpreted as annoyance, but you could tell it was regret. He rubs your back and holds you close against him.

“Shhh shhh. It’s alright, baby. It’s ok,” he says softly before stroking your hair, “We’re ok. I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” you weep and cling to him.

“No, sweetheart. It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t be so quick to snap at you,” he says in a hushed tone. He kisses your head and continues rubbing your back, something he always did to calm you down.

He kept his voice quiet to keep his own emotions in check. He wanted you to be ok and to know he was sorry. But you didn’t need to know how awful this made him feel. Guilt was gnawing at him now as he watched you cry out the pain his words had inflicted on you. He gently rocks back and forth with you, wanting to calm you down even more. 

“Baby, this isn’t your fault. None of this is,” he says, “I got my own shit going on, and I take it out on you because it’s easy.”

His voice drops to a whisper towards the end of his statement. His words dripped with shame.

“You don’t deserve the shit I say to you, but I just see you standing there, looking so fucking sweet and perfect and you’re looking at me with all the love in the world and I can’t fucking take it,” he says, his voice cracking a little, “I don’t deserve it.”

“Yes, you do,” you cry, grabbing onto him tighter.

“No, I don’t. You shouldn’t have to deal with this. Staying up every night, waiting for a mean old fuck to come home and yell at you,” he says. It was now his turn for his eyes to water while  a lump grows in his throat.

You were at another loss for words. You didn’t know what would convince him not to feel so down on himself. Instead, you press a soft kiss to the side of his throat. He tilts his head back and deeply exhales at the pure gesture. 

“And when I said I didn’t know why we were still together… I hope you know what a huge lie that was,” he says, “You’re all I have in this ugly god damn world. That’s it. Without you, I’d just be going through the motions.”

You gaze up at him as he goes through this. You curl your legs up on his lap with the rest of your body and lean into his touch in an attempt to offer him some comfort.

“And when I look at you, I see the opposite,” he says, his voice fully breaking now, “I see someone who has her entire future ahead of her, and she’s wasting it hanging around a guy like me.”

“You’re not a waste,” you say, sitting up and placing your hand on his cheek.

Your thumb moves back and forth in tiny motions, dragging across the skin soothingly. You both stare into each others’ tearful eyes.

“You’re not a waste to me. I love you. You’re important to my life too,” you say seriously looking at him.

“Baby…” he sighs. You were so fucking cute. If he had any spine, he would break up with you. Force you to do better for yourself. But he couldn’t. He knew in his heart of hearts that he would never be able to let you go.

You lean in and give him a soft kiss. You rub your nose with his. You shift on his lap to be in a better position to give him your affection.

His hands fall to your hips to steady you. He returns the gesture and presses two gentle kisses of his own to your cheeks. “I’m sorry, angel,” he whispers.

You lean in for more kisses, accepting the apology with your actions. You rub the back of his neck and press your body against his. The question of whether he deserved forgiveness crossed your mind, but you didn’t dwell on it. You didn’t really care.

He groans into the kiss as he feels your breasts flush against his chest. Your tongue enters his mouth, and he returns the passion. In a few minutes, saliva coats your lips and your breathing is heavy. You gently roll your hips down.

He feels that as soon as you do it. He disconnects his lips for a moment and looks at you with dilated pupils. You rock your hips again, bringing down your clothed cunt on his jeans. The stiff fabric gives you a good amount of friction and coaxes a whine from your throat.

“Honey,” he grunts, “Are you sure? You’re not just doing this because… because you think you have to, right?”

He didn’t want you using sex because you thought that’s what would please him. But he also couldn’t ignore the feeling of his cock hardening in pants.

You shake your head, panting as you grind on him, your lips still flushed from making out. “I wanna feel your love,” you say, your voice breathless.

That didn’t make him feel much better, but you felt so fucking good. “Babe, I can make you feel loved in other ways. Afterwards, I can show-”

“Wanna feel close,” you say before kissing him some more to shut him up.

Well, this would be as close as you could get. That put him at enough ease to give in to his urges. He grabs your hips harder, kneading the flesh of your ass too, and guides your movements. Both of you let out pleasurable sounds at the sensation.

“So fucking good to me,” he grunts, “My perfect girl.”

Your hips don’t stop as you pull off your thin sleep top. Your head falls back at the muted pleasure you were receiving from rubbing yourself on him.

His hands leave your hips and cup your tits. He squeezes them and then brings his mouth to a nipple. He flicks his tongue on the peak and swirls it with dedication. You let out a breathy whine.

He scoots you closer and continues his mouth’s work on your chest. His cock was now completely stiff in his pants, offering you even better friction. You feel it pressing on your clit just how you like, and you bite your lip. He can tell it’s feeling good.

He pulls his lips away from your nipples. Then he lays a few wet kisses on your jaw before picking you up by the waist and laying you back on the couch. He tugs off your shorts and panties.

His hand slides between your legs. He drags his fingers through your folds, feeling how wet you were.

“Such a sweet girl,” he breathes and captures your lips again in a quick kiss, “You’re soaked, babydoll.”

You nod timidly. He rubs you a little more, circling your throbbing clit and gliding over your wanting hole. You bite your lip and moan softly. Your hips rock against this touch as well before you suddenly whimper at a loss of contact and look up to see him sliding your fingers in his mouth. He groans at the taste of you before pulling the fingers back out of his mouth.

Reaching down, he unbuckles belt and drops his pants to the floor. He strokes his solid, flushed cock a few times. With the faint glow of the tv casting over the two of you, you can see a bead of precum emerging from the head. He adjusts his stance and positions himself at your entrance.

“I’m so sorry, little love. Let me try to make it better,” he breathes as he pushes inside.

Moans bubble in his throat as your tight, wet heat engulfs him. His head tilts back, and a ragged breath puffs from his lips. He grips the back of your thighs and holds your legs up.

He’s slow at first, dragging himself in and out, making sure to feel every inch of you. Your eyes flutter at the feeling, and your hips squirm for more.

As he begins to really thrust and set a consistent pace, he leans down to kiss you again. It’s sloppy and rushed, but he needed to feel you like this. He needed to feel that he hadn’t broken the connection you two had.

“My precious fucking girl. Am I making you feel good? Do you feel close to me?” he grunts, his grip tightening, “Can you tell how much I love you?”

You whine in response and nod. Your body heats up as he continues to slide in and out. He stretches you out just the way you like, fills you up so perfectly. He hits every sweet spot inside of you to make you forget he was even capable of saying such mean things sometimes.

You reach your arms up and pull his head down to rest against your neck. Your eyes were still full of your tears from earlier and a few slip out because of the strong difference between the euphoria of right now compared to the despair of the last hour.

One of your thighs drops back on the couch as the hand that was holding it comes up to your hair. He laces his fingers through the strands and begins pressing messy kisses to the side of your throat.

“My pretty baby,” he whispers against your skin, “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

His hips continue their movements, his pelvis connecting with the skin of your ass over and over. He nuzzles your neck. You can hear his mix of harsh pants and soft groans right next to your ear. You cling to him as the heat inside you rises.

“Tell me how it feels, sweetheart. Wanna make sure you’re getting everything you deserve,” he says.

“Feels perfect,” you whimper after a string of moans, “I- I’m gonna cum soon.”

“Me too, doll,” he says. His hips piston into you harder. Your hands dig into the muscles of his back while your toes curl

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Leon,” you choke out as a cry leaves you.

“Mhm, good baby. I want you to cum for me, honey. I want you to feel so fucking good. Let it all go,” he says. 

His hand slides from his hair to your face and brushes away some of your tears. He kisses your cheek softly as you fall over the edge into bliss. Your body convulses underneath him as you release. You moan and writhe and the whole time he strokes your hair, cooing at you “my pretty girl” and “so so good for me.”

You were so tight around him. The sight of your eyes squeezing shut and your lips parting in ecstasy was too much for him. He thrusts into you a few more times before a moan rumbles through his chest and out of his mouth. He slams deep inside of you to spill himself. Hot, thick ropes of cum flood your insides.

You were shaky and trembling as he pulled out and planted a kiss on your forehead. He sits back on the couch, pushing the hair out of his face before pulling you up and close to him. He positions you on his lap and holds you to his chest.

He starts rubbing your back again and kissing your hairline. “Love you, babydoll. So so fucking much,” he whispers.

Your eyes close as you return the embrace and melt into his lap. You nuzzle and kiss his chest, relaxing into the affection.

“There’s my girl. All mine,” he coos.

You nod, enjoying the nice moment and letting yourself pretend that this whole cycle wouldn’t repeat in a few days time.

[luveline]

JADE I LOVE SINGLE MOM READER AND STEVE! 😭 If requests are open, could we see steve taking the two of them on a date? And lil man wants to hold steves hand but he’s a little shy to ask?

If requests are closed this is just a compliment for you 😘

thank u for requesting <3 mom!reader, 1k

This is far more nerve wracking than previous dates, Steve will admit. He’s never had to buy a girl two bouquets, either. It’s expensive. Probably worth it. 

Steve leans against the doorframe, nervous and attempting to look the opposite. His knock was met with a called, “Coming, Steve!” and little else. 

He’s wondering if he’s the victim of a mean prank when you finally open the door. 

“Hi!” you greet, letting your mini me stumble out of the door before you. “Noah, say hi, baby.”

Noah looks up at Steve, smiles, and carries on down the steps. 

“Hey, bud,” he says with a knowing laugh. “Hi, you,” he adds, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. 

“Are those for us? Noah, come back! Come back, Steve has a present for you.” 

The flowers he’d bought for Noah are small and maybe ridiculous, he doesn’t know. Noah’s a little boy, and he’s sure some parents might give Steve a funny look for it, but it hadn’t felt weird in the moment. You don't find it weird, clearly —you’re beckoning Noah back to your legs with a smile that practically sparkles, grabbing him up, and showing him the flowers. There’s something startled about you as you point to the smaller bouquet and say, “Oh, babe, look what Steve got for you. Aren’t they pretty? Where are we gonna put them?” 

“You guys look nice, huh? That’s a gift for me, so, I figure, flowers,” he says, not awkward but definitely not smooth. 

“Thank you, Steve.” 

You take Noah’s bouquet and press it into his hands. “Say thank you,” you whisper nicely. 

“Thank you,” Noah says. 

Steve meets his eyes with a smile gentle as yours. “You’re welcome.” 

“Would you wanna hold him?” you ask. “I’ll take the flowers inside. He’ll run down into the street otherwise, and if I take him back in he’ll want me to take off his shoes.” 

Steve doesn’t know what he wants. He really likes your son and he doesn’t have any qualms in helping, but he’s terrified of dropping him, or holding him wrong and hurting him, or making him cry being too close. He doesn’t want you to know that he’s scared of anything, so he shuffles your flowers into one arm and opens the other for Noah, who goes willingly. Steve’s surprised at how easily you move him, then again when Noah surrenders his flowers in the name of hugging Steve’s neck. 

You laugh. Your smile makes him smile, and with the colours of the flowers glowing under your neck, you’re something from a movie. “Aw, babe, are you giving Steve a hug? You’re so nice! You’re lovely.” 

“We’re best friends,” Steve says. 

“We’re best friends,” you say. Best friends seems to be mom code for dating. “You’re just buddies. Don’t get it messed up, Harrington, I’m his favourite.” 

You head back inside. Steve holds Noah close, realising with some awe that even though Noah’s a toddler, his back is barely bigger than Steve’s arm where it’s resting. He’s not heavy. He barely weighs anything at all when he sits like this with his legs either side of Steve’s ribs. 

“Are you ready for our day out?” Steve asks him. “We’re gonna go rollerblading. Did mommy tell you? It’s a toddler disco, and then we’re gonna have pizza. Mom says you love pizza.” 

“Yeah, an’ ‘ronis.” 

“Yeah?” Steve asks, thrilled to be understood and to understand what he’s saying. “I’m gonna get you a huge pepperoni pizza, extra pepperoni. And mommy said you’re pretty good on your little rollerblades. That’s so cool.” 

Noah maybe doesn’t get the last part, but it doesn’t matter. Steve’s tone is making him smile, and he hugs Steve’s neck with a surprising ferociousness. 

“What did you say to him?” you ask, stepping back out of the door, closing it behind you. “He’s gone shy.” 

“I just told him I was gonna buy him a pizza!” Splteve defends. 

“No, it’s a good thing. It just means he’s feeling loved up,” you say, scratching the nape of Noah’s neck. 

“Oh. Good. That’s great.” 

You nod knowingly. “Pretty great. My two best guys getting along.” 

“I’m a best guy?” Steve asks.

You slot yourself into his side with a low lying confidence that has his heart like a hammer in his chest. “Best guy,” you confirm.

You’re unafraid when it comes to him, you have been since you met. You flirt, hug, even kiss without hesitation. And now Noah’s clinging to Steve like he’s known him for months, it’s nice. It’s pretty much everything he’s ever wanted, or the precipice of it, and he’s not going to get ahead of himself but he’s just happy to be liked without any holding back. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, quietly but not shyly. 

You pout obligingly, chin up, eyes shutting in total trust. Steve holds Noah away from you rather than have everybody smash their faces together and ducks down for a quick kiss that turns into two, the second of which is soft, and an attempt to show you what he’s feeling without saying it. 

You pull away but bring your hand to his hair, threading your fingertips into the shorter strands by his ear. He’d like to think you’re saying the same thing he was. 

“Mommy,” Noah says. 

“Yeah, bub?” you ask, distracted where you brush Steve’s hair down. 

“Kiss too?” 

You lay your gaze on him with mirth. “Yes! Pucker up, Noah. Gonna give you the biggest one, and then we’re gonna have to get in the car before we miss toddler skate. Ready?” 

You kiss him and tickle his tummy. Steve bites back a cheesy, awful grin. Two new best friends is a sweet deal. 

[abbyromanoff]

hi!!! is it okay to request R (18) having a crush on her professor which is Nat (either 27 or like around 30s) then Nat heard about it because of the gossips so she confronts reader abt it although reader have the upper hand defending herself yet nat was able to pin her and they kissed—thats the last time they saw each other not until they had a reunion during reader's college years

sorry if this is kinda long😭

SEE ME AFTER CLASS

PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 781

WARNINGS: all are 18+ teacher x student relationship, professor x student relationship, kinda stalking, angst, fluff, and some heated moments yall

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

You were fucked, to say the least. You had never been called to stay after by a teacher, but here you stood, eyes shot wide, lips slightly agape as you nodded slowly to Ms. Romanoff’s request.

“You’re probably wondering why I had you stay after with me today,” You nodded once again, and she chuckled while leaning forward on her elbows, unconventionally pushing her breasts further together in your view.

“Well, you’re not in trouble, sweetheart.” She helped ease the tension, and your breath of release caused your eyes to flutter shut, your hand coming to your chest as you feared the worst.

“But, there is something I’d like to talk to you about. There seems to be a rumor lurking around the school, and with your popularity, it only took a short time to reach me.” She suddenly stood from her seemingly comfortable chair and placed herself on the edge of the desk in front of you, leaning down to place a hand on her knee as the other found your chin. While you were both of legal age, considering that you were forced to stay back in the fifth grade when your parents had to move halfway into the school year for your father's work, this was still wrong. You were a senior, she was your teacher. And even though you were near graduation with your final week approaching, you were still hefty about the consequences this action could have.

“Uhm, Ms. Romanoff,”

“Call me Nat,”

“I- I don’t exactly think that is appropriate, I don’t think any of this is appropriate.” You began to stand but were quickly forced back down with her incredible strength, and you nearly whimpered at the contact.

“Shh, baby, no one needs to know, okay? It’s just me and you in here; besides, aren’t you the one with that little crush on me?” Your eyes shot wide, your stance faltering as you failed to explain yourself.

“C’mon, all I’m asking is one little kiss before I have to see my favorite student go,”

And that’s all it was, at first. It started with a small kiss. Only once, never again. But then it came again, and her lips drew you in again and again and again. Up until your day on the podium where you thanked multiple people, her being one of them. That’s where you ended it.

When your parents waited in their car and everyone began piling out, you dragged her behind the school, crying through small pecks as you two said your goodbyes. You expected it to be your last. But then you walked into your fourth class on the second day of college, you were yet to have this class the day prior. It was fresh, the faces were all new, except the professors.

“Nat?” She turned suddenly hearing your voice, smiling widely when seeing you.

“I didn’t believe it when I saw your name on my roster, but it’s true.” She began rushing towards you, thankful for your early arrival. You put your hands on her chest to back her away, causing her to hold a confused raise of her brow.

“What is it? I know we ended things but- but I’m here, and so are you, we’re back together again.” You shook your head with a scoff, your gaze falling to the floor before she lifted your chin to look her in the eye, and goosebumps ran down your skin as you recalled the previous encounters just like this moment.

“Y/N, we ended things because you were going to college and we would be too far. So I moved, and I got a job here, I’ve had the skills and degrees to be a professor and now it’s all finally working out for the best.” She paused, brushing the hair out of your face before cupping your cheeks lovingly.

“We can be together again, Y/N, we don’t have to fear it. We’ll have to hide it for a few years, but that’s all. Outside of these doors, we can be whatever we want to be, I don’t care about the age difference or the looks or the judgement, I only care about you. I love you, sweet girl.”

“Y/N? Y/N!” Your head shot up in a hurry, your mind quickly investigating the surrounding area until you registered where you were.

“You keep falling asleep in my class, and I’m beginning to grow quite concerned,” You faced the older woman who had a small smirk plastering her lips. She leaned in a little bit closer, and you hoped it did not look so promiscuous to others.

“Please see me after class, honey, we need to have a chat.”

[kennedyalike]

hi pookie!!! i love ur writing <3 i would literally die if you wrote dom! leon x fem!reader smut with degrading and bondage and breeding 🤭

Where do you think you’re going?

dom!toxic!boyfriend!leon x fem!reader

tags: possesive behaviour, smut, sex, p in v sex, fingering, bsdm bondage, ropes, breeding kink, toxic bf leon, mentions of breaking up, oral sex (both f and m receiving) degrading, toxic behaviour

word count: 1.7k

hi anon! i would LOVE to.. leon w breeding kink is the best<3 enjoy

You’ve finally mustered up enough confidence to leave him. Yes. You were going to do it finally. Leave your boyfriend of 2 years. There were many reasons to be honest but the main reason is that you feel trapped. He’s just so overprotective, controlling, possessive and….toxic.

Always trying to control your life and then he only defends it with ”But I know what’s best for you baby.” He’s manipulative and tries convincing you he just loves you so much. In all honesty, you love him way too much and deep inside you, you know you belong to him and you want to stay forever. But this is a desperate facade of an attempt to save yourself.

”Leon…Can we talk?” You shyly request while he undresses his jacket. He just came home from work. ”About?” He mumbles quietly while walking towards you. You look away for a second to brace yourself for what’s to come. ”Uhh…Well I wanted to talk a little about what I’ve been feeling like for a while.” You explain.

He stops right before you and his hands curl around your waist, pulling you a little closer to his muscular torso. Even though you’re breaking up with him, you can’t lie, he’s hot as fuck. Compression shirt on and the muscles looking so delicious under it. Veins on his arms and a muscly chest right in front of you. He stands taller and his soft ash blonde locks fluffle as he looks down at you. ”Talk.”

You hesitate for a second again before speaking up. ”I’ve kinda felt t-trapped and like…I don’t think this is working for me anymore.” You explain slowly while looking away. You wait a second for him to say something but he only looks at you straight in the eyes without his expression even quivering. ”Continue.” He demands and you start rambling again.

”W-well what I mean is..we need to break up. I-I can’t handle you controlling my life like this.” You finally finish. A slight smirk grows on his face as he leans towards you and whispers into your ear. ”We are not breaking up, sweetheart.” He says while his other hand leaves your waist to grab at your neck. The other still gripping your waist so tightly it almost hurts. ”Leon.. I’m serious…” You say while he slightly starts squeezing your neck, you paw at his hand and squeeze your thighs together.

”What? You thought I’d just take that from you? Sweet baby, you’re such a dumb slut. I know you want me so stop fighting it and be a good girl.” He’s not asking. A small whimper escapes your mouth and your lips part slightly. ”Leon…’need you.” You hear him chuckle under his breath before he withdraws his hand from your neck and grabs at your hips, turning your body around and pinning you face down to the wall.

”You really thought that would work, you’re such a little cutie, saying that while in this nightgown, you planned this didn’t you?” He groans into your ear as his hand squeezes at your ass and tits roughly, making you moan his name. ”Here’s what's gonna happen, baby. You’re gonna get on your knees and suck me off, if you do good enough I won’t tie you up.” He pushed your head down as you nodded and dropped to your knees.

The light coming from the kitchen made him look so sexy that you even wanted him to tie you up. You look up at him with puppy dog eyes as you unbuckle his belt and start pulling his pants down. He looks at you without a word. You wrap your hand around his hard cock and gently pump it up and down. His tip is pink and leaking and you feel your mouth watering as you bring your face closer to it. Your tongue lolls out and you start giving him little kitten licks. ”You’re begging for it, huh?” He growls and you start messily kissing all over his tip, slowly pumping his shaft while looking up at him.

Your mouth wraps around his tip fully and you suck a little, teasing him even further as he starts pushing your head down more. ”Faster..” He sighs as he grabs at your hair. You start going deeper, taking more of him in when his thrusts start getting sloppy. You almost gag when you push him deeper and deeper. ”Good girl…gonna cum.” He swears under his breath and suddenly you pull away from him, ripping his orgasm from him.

He hisses and looks at you, down on your knees with a smirk on your face. He roughly grabs at your hair and yanks you forward, his cock hitting your face messily. ”You wanna be a brat?” You just moan as he lifts you up, pushing you towards the bedroom. ”Leon…Don’t have to get so mad…” You giggle.

He pins you to the bed and starts rummaging through the closet, getting ropes. You know what’s coming and you can’t help but to press your thighs together when you feel that erotic feeling between your legs. ”You gon’ tie me up, Leon?”

”Yes. You’re gonna be begging for me to stop.” He says as he lifts your arms up and ties your wrists together tightly, then ties them up to the bed frame. He looks at your body while moving down to tie your ankles the same way. You squirm a little and pout at him. ”Too tight, Lee…” You tease him.

”You can take it.” He cooed as he hovered above you, taking in your appearance. Silky nightgown with no panties under and hardened nipples peeking through the fabric. ”So gorgeous, all for me to use.”

You whine and nod as his cold fingers sneak under the hem of your dress, landing on your clit. You buck your hips up for a little sensation and he holds them down. Starting to rub circles on your clit with his cold thumb. ”Ah- Leon..” You moan as he pushes two fingers inside your wet hole. He pumps them up and down with a steady pace, pleasuring you as his thumb still rubs your clit. He studied your expression and nibbled small kisses to your neck.

”Leon! Fuck.” You whimpered as you tugged the ropes and squirmed around, the pleasure fogging your mind and your body feels so at mercy under him, tied up like this. Fuck, every little touch he gives you makes you squirm and moan.

He pulls back to leave you wanting for more, slowly he unzips your dress and reveals your naked body to him.

You squirm a little when he’s dressed and you’re naked and tied. ”Leon-hhh… please.” You whine again when you tug at the ropes. ”No baby. You have to be a good girl, got it?” He asks while lifting his shirt off of his body and hovering over you again. ”You can do that for me, can’t you, bunny? Don’t be a brat.” He says as he pecks you on your lips before they latch on to your neck again. Slowly your eyes close as his kisses reach all the most sensitive spots, wet sloppy kisses behind your ear, on your neck, collarbones, tits, the soft skin of your stomach too as you writhed under him. ”Please..touch me.” You begged. His lips kissed your hips and inner thighs, slowly moving more and more towards your pussy. ”Leon…”

”I’m gonna make you feel so good, you never have those stupid thoughts again.” He mumbles as his mouth latches on your pussy, tongue lapping at your delicious slick as he squeezed your thighs and ass. He sucked on your clit and chuckled when he heard your desperate moans. ”Ah! Oh my god! Feels so good…Leon!”

He pulls back from your heat and lifts himself up, kissing you roughly. You almost taste yourself in his kiss but that didn’t matter. His hands start untying you and you think he’s finally had enough of this punishment and is going to gently fuck you. No. He retracts from the kiss and unties your hands. ”Leon…Want your cock.” You yelp as he suddenly turns your body around, grabs your wrists and ties you down again. Now you’re on your stomach. He grabs a pillow and pushes it under your stomach and hips so that your ass is lifting up.

”Leon…hhh” You wince when his palm hits your ass, he spanked you. Your body jolts forward and your breath hitches. ”Just a hole for me, good for nothing else, you slut.” He grabs at your neck from the back and slightly chokes you while his other hand gropes your ass.

”Yes…just….your little fuck toy.” You whimper as your tongue lolls out. You feel his hard cock prod at your entrance from the back when his hands move to grip at your waist. You arch your back for him as you feel him pushing in.

”Such a tight little pussy…fucking whore. My whore.” He groans and he fully bottoms out. He starts fucking into you at full speed and your tits bounce, face in the pillow as you moan, almost screaming. ”Ah fuck! Leon! Too much…” He continues his speed and his other hand grabs your hair, pulling your head backwards while he bullies his cock inside you. ”Take it all. I’m gonna fuck you stupid so you don’t say stupid shit like that.” He says unamusedly while continuing.

”Gonna cum into you so hard.”

”I’m sorry! M’ sorry, Leon! I won’t say it again, ever. I love you…” You mewl when he starts rubbing your clit while still continuing at a fast pace. Your moans, muffled by the pillows, almost sound like crying at this point. Leon’s rhythm seems to not have stopped when his hips still rut into you, hearing sweet moans and low grunts from your boyfriend. ”Gonna breed this fucking pussy. Gonna cum so deep in you, you’ll be pregnant.”

”Ah fuck! Yes, Leon!” You moan as he starts thrusting deeper. ”That way you’ll never leave me, all filled with my cum and babies.”

”Yes! I wan’ it, Lee…”

”I love you, baby.”

Your knees feel like giving out as your arms shake and the uncontrollable wave of your orgasm washes over you. Your pussy walls clench around his dick as he holds your hips down, pushing himself so deep in you as he released a spur of hot cum in you, filling you so deep. ”Such a good girl…”

[vroomvroomcircuit]

Big Bird and his Cousins

(A/N): Thank you to @mclarengf for telling me about Big Bird getting shrunk and sharing the twitter thread with me

Summary: A small missing information nearly got Max and Lando into a fistfight aka this is my chance to tell more people about Big Birds eight international cousins

Pairings: driver!reader x f1!grid, but especially Max Verstappen and Lando Norris, Checo, Carlos and Zhou got more of a guest appearing

Wordcount: 1.3k

🏎Masterlist🏎

______________________

Most of the drivers have no problem with driving in the rain. But in a downpour straight from the seven pits of hell? That’s something even Max Verstappen says “no” to.

A considerable amount of the grid stays seated in the conference room, where they just got told that qualifying will be delayed by at least several hours. As soon as they were dismissed, (Y/N) sprinted out of the room, uttering something about a small bladder and long meetings and how they clash in the worst way possible.

“Have you seen what they did to Big Bird from Sesame Street? They made him tiny for the past week!” Lando complains loudly to Carlos while scrolling through his twitter feed. But the Spaniard is confused.

“I don’t know who you are talking about, mate.” He thinks for a second. “Oh, do you mean Caponata? They made her small?!” Carlos’ face lights up, remembering the bird fondly. It’s not something you think about every day, isn’t it?

Lando looks at his friend with a befuddled face . “No, you muppet! Big Bird is a yellow bird that is very tall.” Max, who heard the conversation involuntarily, because the Brit speaks passionately loud about this subject, turns towards the other two drivers.

“I don’t know what kind of off brand Sesame Street you two have watched, but the real name of the tall bird is Pino and Pino is pale blue.” His matter-of-fact voice sets something in Lando off. It just doesn’t sit right with him that Max acts almighty and knowledgeable about a topic he read something himself with his own two eyes.

He gets up from his seat, taxing the Dutchman with a belittling up and down look. “If I was you, I would get my eyes checked, because Big Bird is a bright yellow! Watch out for color blindness.” Max also squares up, getting toe to toe with Lando, getting ready to shoot back. “I can show you how good my eyesight is the next time I’ll drive an orange car with the number four off the track.” “It’s papaya!” Lando pulls up the sleeves to his hoodie, getting ready for a fight that goes beyond spoken words.

“No!” Checo intervenes, putting himself between the two drivers. In the meantime the majority of the remaining people in the room put their attention on the, for now verbally, fighting men. “The name of the bird is Abelardo Montoya and the colors are green, red and a bit of pink. Stop arguing about stuff you know nothing about. Also, I’m older. So I'm right.”

His confident statement attracts the arguments from Max and Lando. “You are absolutely wrong!” “Big Bird is not green!” “No, because Pino is a beautiful blue color!” “Shut it, Verstappen, or I’ll show you the way your skin will bruise a beautiful blue!” “Step away, Norris. You are like 12 and build like a stick. You have not the strength to show me anything.”

“Are you sure? Let’s take this outside and I shove a stick up you a-” “What is going on in the house of commence?” (Y/N)’s voice cuts through the noise sharply. The room falls silent for several seconds until everyone tries to explain themselves at the same time.

“Big Bird is yellow!” “No, his name is Pino and he is pale blue!” “No, she is orange and yellow and is called Caponata!” “No, it’s a green bird, you all know nothing!” “Sh, be quiet, Checo!”

(Y/N) sits down on her chair again and waits for them to get finished scrambling to find an excuse to defend their ego. “Did you ask Pierre what Big Bird looks like for him?” She smirks.

Pierre also smiles knowingly, all eyes on him. “We call our Big Bird Toccata and he is white.” Especially Lando tries to defend himself and his Big Bird another time very loudly. But (Y/N) is having none of it. She put her hand over his mouth, muffling his protests while starting an explanation of her own.

“Did you know that Big Bird has eight international cousins? They are part of Sesame Street from other countries all around the world.” While she starts explaining, Lando’s face drops. “While most versions have a yellow bird like the Big Bird Lando references the whole time, they call them different names. In German he is named Bibo, ask Hülkenberg. In the Netherlands, Brazil and France, they got some versions of Big Bird’s cousins. I think in China they changed his name to the literal translation of Big Bird, but he still counts as one of the cousins. They explain it by calling them identical cousins.”

She throws a look to Zhou, who nods in confirmation and adds “His name is Da Niao”. “The cousins also live in Spain, Portugal and Turkey. Did you not know about this? I thought it was common knowledge. It was all over Twitter a couple of years ago. Now I see the threat every now and then again on tiktok with some minecraft gameplay in the background playing.”

Max mulls over the new information. “This explains everything.” Meanwhile Lando is a bit more shocked. “So I nearly got into a fist fight with Max Verstappen, because someone in some writer’s room decided to give Big Bird cousins and never said anything in the show?”

(Y/N) throws him a confused face. “What do you mean you nearly got into a fist fight? Those are muppets from a kids show! How can you pick a fight over muppets in different colors? They are not even real? In what way does this warrant to get physical?”

Well, if you put it like that, it sounds a bit irrational. Maybe silly even. Of course, no one says this outloud, but the faces all around are enough confirmation for the female driver.

“Gosh, that’s childish. But on the topic of Sesame Street: Have you seen the tweets about Big Bird being shrunk? I need justice for Big Bird!” And so a new discussion starts about the sense behind Big Bird being tiny.

A few hours later the track is cleared again after the storm eventually cleared up. Qualifying can finally start.

The interviews after are relaxed in a way no one expected and most of the newer drivers have never experienced before. Maybe it is the collective relief that qualifying is over without any more delays due to the weather or other problems.

“Coming to the last question,” the journalist closes up her post quali interview with (Y/N), “How did you pass the time until today’s session started? Did all the drivers have another Fifa tournament? Or was it Mario Kart this time?”

The female driver laughs a bit about the joke. “Oh no, not this time. I wouldn’t play Fifa with them anyways, I’m too competitive for that and not good enough at this game at the same time. But I’ll keep the Mario Kart idea in my head for the next skyfall rain. But today I was able to educate the boys on some Sesame Street lore, specifically about Big Bird’s eight international cousins.”

The reporter has a bemused face on. “I never heard of them.” “There is a link on the wiki page regarding Big Bird, dedicated to them. It’s amazing and super cute. Look it up!” (Y/N) winks into the camera.

This is the story of how breaking up a close call to a fist fight between two very stubborn drivers led to (Y/N) being a feature on Sesame Street. And how the trend of #justiceforBigBird across many social media platforms became a thing afterwards.

[yikesmary]

MARRIAGE — jeon wonwoo x reader

summary: where wonwoo’s nightmare is coming true.

notes: yours and wonwoo’s relationship isn’t the focus in this. but you guys are married and have a daughter together!

I might create a whole series where I write drabbles/one shots of seventeen as fathers. I have some ideas of what to post, however, I’ll accept requests. this one just popped into my head today and I wasn’t able to get it out UNLESS I actually wrote it. enjoy!

“Daddy, when did you know you wanted to marry Mommy?” Yours and Wonwoo’s daughter asked.

Wonwoo stopped at the sound of the question, and turned to her, who was peering up at him curiously. He stopped cutting the apples she asked to make him and kneeled down at her height. “What’s the sudden question for, Love?”

Your daughter shrugged, “I’m just curious,”

“Well, since you’re asking, I knew I wanted to marry Mommy because I love her so much and I didn’t see living my life if it meant I didn’t have her in it,” Wonwoo said.

“Even if you guys become old and wrinkly?” She followed up, her nose scrunching at the thought of her parents being wrinkly.

“Especially if she’s wrinkly, because that means we’ve been loving each other for so long,” he answered, pinching his daughter’s cheek gently.

Your daughter hummed, seeming deep in thought. Her eyes then lit up and announced, “Daddy, I have to tell you something and you can’t get mad,”

Wonwoo raised his eyebrow up at her words but said, “I’ll try not to,”

“I have decided I’m gonna marry Uncle Gyu!” She exclaimed.

Wonwoo swore that right then and there he was going to drop dead in the middle of the kitchen. Who cares about growing old with you if your daughter was going to marry her Uncle Gyu. Maybe life wasn’t worth living at this point. Who cares at this point—

“Daddy? Are you okay?” your daughter asked, pouting in concern.

Wonwoo snapped out of his thinking and cleared his throat. “Why do you think you’re going to marry your Uncle Gyu, sweetheart?”

“I don’t just think I’m going to marry him. I know I’m going to marry him,” she corrected him.

“Well, why do you think that?”

“When I asked you about how you knew you wanted to marry Mommy, it’s like how I feel when I see Uncle Gyu,” she replied.

“You can’t marry your Uncle Gyu,” Wonwoo told her bluntly.

“Why not?” she asked, her eyes squinted and Wonwoo could already feel his defenses going down when he saw that there were little tears emerging from her eyes.

“First off, you still call him Uncle Gyu,” he pointed out.

“That’s because that’s his name,”

“We’re going to teach you about how names work one of these days,” Wonwoo sighed.

The sound of the door opening captured the attention of the father and daughter. “I’m home!” You exclaimed, and Wonwoo felt relief knowing that if anyone were to convince your daughter not to marry Mingyu, it’d be you.

“I’m back from the store and I ran into Mingyu! He’s here to say hi,” you added on.

Nevermind, Wonwoo thought. It seemed like you, Mingyu, and your own daughter, his flesh and blood, were out on a mission in order to send him into cardiac arrest.

Wonwoo saw as your daughter gasped in delight and ran out of the kitchen to meet you and Mingyu. He left the kitchen too, only to see that your daughter was already in Mingyu’s arms.

“What were you guys doing while I was gone?” you questioned.

“We need to talk,” Wonwoo said.

His statement raised eyebrows for both you and Mingyu. Meanwhile, your daughter was in a whole different world whilst in Mingyu’s arms. “Uh, okay, let’s go to the kitchen and Mingyu can entertain—”

“No, Mingyu’s involved too,” Wonwoo cut you off.

Exchanging looks with each other, Mingyu put your daughter on the couch and promised that he was going to play with her when he was done talking to her dad. You went to the kitchen, utterly confused on what was going on.

“You’re a traitor,” was the first thing Wonwoo said to Mingyu.

“What? What’d he do?” You asked.

“I didn’t do anything today!” Mingyu immediately defended.

Wonwoo turned to you, who he considered to be the voice of reasoning. “Guess what our daughter told me,”

“What did she say?”

“She wants to marry—“

“Aww, that’s precious! Is she at the stage where she wants to pretend—“

“She wants to marry her Uncle Gyu.”

“Oh,” was all you could say. None of the parenting books you and Wonwoo read didn’t exactly tell you how to deal with your child if they wanted to marry their dad’s best friend, so you were at a lost for words.

“You made my daughter think she’s wants to marry you! How dare you!” Wonwoo exclaimed to Mingyu, who looked lost at the direction the conversation went.

“Let’s not castrate Mingyu. Our daughter is a child, so she’s going to think she wants to marry anyone she loves, because she doesn’t know the difference between familial and romantic love. Also, it’s not like she knows what marriage means.” You reasoned with him.

Wonwoo relaxed at your words, his slight anger dissipating.

“Now, let’s go and play with her before she thinks her dad killed her soon-to-be-husband,” you joked and quickly left the kitchen.

Wonwoo and Mingyu were left in the kitchen and Wonwoo found himself looking at his best friend. “My daughter wants to marry you,” he told him.

“If I knew how I was making her want to marry me, I’d stop,” Mingyu reassured him.

“At least it wasn’t Soonyoung, I don’t want my daughter thinking she’s a tiger and marrying one,”

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