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[paarksunghoon]

FIXED COMFORT | SUNGHOON

SUMMARY: typically, sunghoon’s the one who takes care of you when you’ve had one too many. but once in a blue moon, he lets his guard down and allows you to care for him the way he does for you.

or, the one where sunghoon’s drunk at a bar and misses his girlfriend a little too much.

NOTES: idk I just feel like someone should let him sleep for six months straight!!!

PAIRING: sunghoon x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 4.4K (4444 exactly—she’s a shortie).

WARNINGS: fluff on fluff on fluff.

***

“Hey, do you think you could come get Sunghoon from the bar? He’s been asking for you for the past hour.”  

Jay’s phone call pulls you out from a deep slumber on a Saturday night that falls on a day with no plans other than pure relaxation. Sunghoon had been preoccupied with work and classes this past week and wanted to unwind by drinking at his favorite bar with his closest friends and all you wanted to do was sleep the weekend away. 

Since the two of you started dating six months ago after being friends for a little over two years, you both agree on the notion that you’ve found a good balance between time spent together and apart respectively. Nothing fundamentally changed with the exception of kissing and touching one another in the way a couple would. He still respects your independence and you respect his time away from you as well. 

Sunghoon learned quickly that you’re the type of person who values your alone time more than anything else. When he first started developing feelings for you, grappling with your absence wasn’t easy. He initially thought you weren’t interested in getting to know him the way he was with you because you weren’t afraid to decline invitations and telling people ‘no.’ Slowly, over the course of many months of pining and late night conversations, did Sunghoon learn that you’re typically your best self after a moment of isolation. 

Your boyfriend is somewhere in between an introvert and extrovert. He tends to be shy when he meets people he isn’t familiar with while his loud, rambunctious attitude is typically reserved for those who know him best. He likes to keep to himself for the most part, giving some of his personality away when he feels his walls start to crumble naturally. You love that he has a good head on his shoulders and that he’s able to tell you about his feelings while maintaining an air of confidence. He doesn’t inherently need anybody; he likes your company and will do anything to keep it.

Moments like this are when your heart feels softer for Sunghoon than when the two of you were just friends.

“I know you wanted to spend the weekend alone but Hoon’s been saying your name all night,” Jay says. “I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“No, it’s fine.” You’re sure Jay can hear your brittle voice. “Are you guys at the bar near your place?”

“That’s the one. Thanks again and I’m really sorry for waking you up.”

“Don’t sweat it. Cook me something next week if you still feel bad.” 

“I can do that. Chili oil noodles with shrimp sound good?”

“It’s almost like you know me.” He laughs at your sarcasm. 

“Drive safe.” 

When Jay hangs up, you allow yourself a few minutes to adjust and wake up, stretching your body from the warm comfort of your blankets. You change out of Sunghoon’s shirt to put on pajama pants and another one of his stolen shirts, opting not to take a jacket since you figure you won’t be out for very long. 

You thank your past self for filling up your gas tank before tonight after having put it off for a few days. Knowing Sunghoon, he would still scold you for allowing yourself to run nearly empty before filling it up even if he was inebriated. Somehow, knowing this about him brings a smile to your face.

Sunghoon’s the kind of guy who likes to have some control over certain things. He likes order and structure, often waking up at the same hour every weekday to build a routine his body can remember. He’s been like that since you first met him but you think it’s part of his charm. Even from two years ago, when you met him through Jake Sim, Sunghoon has maintained a level of confidence and control that he does now. On the heels of an impressive skating career before pivoting to focus on higher education, Sunghoon had his preferences and will stick by them. 

His discipline is the first thing you noticed when you met him for the first time. Jay, someone you were already familiar with, agreed to cook dinner with your friend group under the condition that everyone helped him shop and chip in for the meal. Sunghoon held Jake back from buying unnecessary things like boxed chocolate milk and candy because Jay had desserts back at his place. He held a checklist of items whereas the rest of your friends ran up and down the aisles without thinking much about what needed to be purchased.

Sunghoon’s near-meticulous behavior is juxtaposed to your chaotic and rambunctious nature. You often follow your gut instead of setting a solid plan because you’re not concerned with meeting deadlines, sans education. Whereas you tend to lean towards a go-with-the-flow attitude, Sunghoon is the opposite. But that’s something he loves about you.  

At a surface level distinction, it didn’t seem like the two of you would get along as well as you did. It surprised Jake when Sunghoon asked for your number so he could text you about seeing a comedy film with him as no one else in the group wanted to see it. Including you at an impromptu study session with him (Sunghoon was organized and neat while your pens were spread all over and your study methods, haphazard) felt like watching two people clash. 

Rather, you and Sunghoon complement one another. 

The idea of letting himself go with someone who wasn’t part of his friend collective was unheard of. Getting to know a girl who didn’t share similar lifestyles didn’t appeal to him before meeting you, and you’re inarguably the most chaotic person Sunghoon knows. But he finds that there’s order within your chaos—you know who you are and what you want, and you will not compromise yourself just to please other people. 

It’s what Sunghoon loves the most about you. There’s a boundary you never let anyone cross under the assumption that your own safety net feels compromised. He’s watched you lose friends for this same reason and has always admired the way you carry yourself like you know you deserve better than people who disrespect you. He’s witnessed the grace you maintain when people who call you a friend voice words of kindness but speak ill about you behind your back. If anything, Sunghoon feels pity for anyone who crosses you to the point of anger. To be envious of another’s confidence is one thing. To make that known is another. 

Sunghoon learns that you let your inhibitions go because holding control over yourself feels like a burden. It feels like setting a standard you will never be able to meet. He never thought of order in that way before getting to know you. Your approach to life sparked a new wave of emotions within him to the point where he was open and willing to let you farther into his life. 

His days were ruled by guidelines he had to maintain and proper etiquette that followed him even off the rink. The poise he carried from his career on the ice bled into his personal life too. Although, he doesn’t mind that it does. Sunghoon values any form of structure because it makes him feel like he has a purpose and that there’s something to be accomplished at the end of the day. 

Most times, Sunghoon’s feels like people judge him for his regimen and can’t fathom why he appreciates control so much. They tell him to let loose and enjoy his time away from his career. People always think he simply doesn’t know how to have fun because he’s set in his ways and won’t let other people coax him into doing something he’s not comfortable with. But not you. Sunghoon has never felt like you‘ve judged how he chooses to live his life. 

Before he knew it, a year had passed and he started to call you one of his best friends. The friendship was gradual. Sunghoon didn’t have many close female friends in the way he does with Heeseung, Jay, and Jake. You’re the first person since ending his career who hasn’t tried to pry into the why. In fact, Sunghoon enjoys that you didn’t bring it up. 

(You did, in the form of cooing over his younger self skating in competitions for the first time or roasting all of the outfits he had to wear. But somehow, all of your jabs made him feel happier than when people complimented his performance.)

Eventually, being around you felt too right. He loved it when you took naps on his bed and felt comfortable raiding your kitchen pantry without permission. Sunghoon could leave you in his apartment without him being in it and feel at ease. In fact, he started to look forward to coming home to you. All it took was seeing you wear his hoodie because you got too cold and forgot your jacket, to make him drop his bag by the front door and ask you to be his girlfriend. He hasn’t regretted anything with you since. 

The weather is cold outside since it’s approaching the middle of autumn. You let your car warm up and blast the heat all the way up while adjusting your defrosting settings before heading to the bar to pick up Sunghoon. You sift through your playlists and settle on soft indie melodies before you drive away from the curb. 

You’ve never seen Sunghoon get drunk to the point of needing extra help. Usually, you’re the one who goes a little too hard whenever Heeseung brings out the alcohol or if Jake offers an edible or two. Sunghoon likes to sit back and stay sober (or sober up by the end of the night) when he notices you having too much fun. He doesn’t mind, though. Sunghoon likes taking care of you because sometimes it gives him purpose. You’ve never understood that sentiment but to each their own. 

The only times you’ve seen him completely wasted are usually when you’re equally as gone, like on your first road trip as a couple. The five of you rented a lakehouse a few hours from Seoul and spent an entire weekend basking under the hot sun and chose to forget about university stress before finals would inevitably kick everyone’s ass. All five of you were cross-faded (but not without Jay and Sunghoon both prepping water bottles and snacks for when the munchies would hit prior to taking anything). You watched Sunghoon relax to the point where he was much quieter than he normally was and when you asked if he was doing alright, he looked you in the eye and told you he loved you for the first time. 

I always have, I think, he said as he brought your hand to his chest. You might not believe me because neither of us are sober but I swear I’ll tell you in the morning. 

Sunghoon gets affectionate when he’s drunk or high, often to the point of asking for reassurance. The rational side of his brain is temporarily disfigured. You don’t mind being there to tell him that he’s the love of your life and you’d never go anywhere when he gets like this. Although, you’re usually just as gone and gush all of your hidden emotionally-charged feelings, which pair well with Sunghoon’s need for validation sometimes. 

Your friends love your relationship. They don’t think it’s too much or too little, going so far as to take photos of the two of you when you aren’t looking. Some are funny like the pictures of you sleeping on his chest with drool pooling out of your mouth. Others are romantic and whimsical, like the pictures of Sunghoon looking at you like you’re the sunshine to his moonlight. They can’t get enough of you two. Your friends love knowing people they care about are deeply in love with one another and your relationship is somewhat of a reminder that true romance does exist. 

Thinking about this makes your heart swell as you park your car and tuck your keys inside your purse. The bouncer checks your ID and lets you inside the bar, and you already spot Jay off to the side. 

“Thanks for coming,” he says as he gives you a loose hug. “And sorry for waking you up.” 

You wave him off. “It’s fine. I’ve probably woken you up for worse.” 

“Yeah, like the time you and Jake wanted ramen at 3am and wouldn’t stop calling me because both of you got a little too high.” 

“Can you blame us?! You were like, two blocks away.” 

“Yeah, but did you need to eat with me?” 

“Duh. You’re like, the best person to eat a late night dinner with.” 

The two of you laugh as he leads you to the group. You see Sunghoon slumped over the table with his head in his arms and the rest of your friend group tries really hard not to seem too excited when they see you standing next to Jay. 

“Fucking finally.” Heeseung stands and gives you a quick side hug before Jake does the same. “Love you guys and all but he started to become unbearable when he kept showing us photos of you.”

Jake snorts. “Poor guy was almost about to cry.” That makes your heart soft. 

“He looks so cute,” you coo, tilting your head to savor this moment. It’s abnormal for you to be the sober one but you’re starting to understand why Sunghoon doesn’t mind taking care of you when you’re like this. 

Jay comes to stand next to you. “He’s not cute when he drank half his weight in alcohol and wouldn’t shut up about how pretty your hair is.” 

“What, do you don’t think my hair’s pretty?” The messy, unbrushed hair is enough to make the guys laugh. 

“Nah seriously, thanks for coming,” says Jake. “We felt bad calling you but he refuses to get out of his seat.” 

“It’s fine.” You wave him off and step closer to your boyfriend, who still hasn’t moved from his position. 

“Do your thing and we’ll be here if you need help bringing him to the car.” Heeseung smiles gratefully at you. 

Even the back of Sunghoon’s head is unfairly gorgeous. His hair always looks nice, although you credit that to his younger sister introducing him to a world of hair care products during his skating years. It feels soft to the touch as you stroke the back of his head until Sunghoon slowly comes to. You feel his body start to stir.

“Baby,” you say quietly, bending down until you’re next to him. “Wake up for me.” 

“Hm?” Sunghoon mumbles from his arms. He feels the sensation of your fingers carding through his hair and pulls himself from the table, wiping the spit from the corner of his mouth before realizing you’re standing next to him. “Y/N?”

“I’m right here.” 

He pulls his head up until he’s sitting upright in the booth, squinting up at you to adjust to the bar lights that disappeared when he closed his eyes. Your boyfriend looks so innocent like this. He looks at you with a wide, round gaze as if you’d appeared out of thin air and he’s trying his hardest to figure out how you’re standing in front of him. 

“Is it really you?” Sunghoon asks in a quiet voice. His tone makes your heart flutter and you reach your arms out until you’re cupping his jaw and rubbing the pads of your thumbs over his cheeks. Sunghoon melts into your touch and you feel his body start to relax. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, bug. Did you have fun tonight?”

He nods in your hands, “Mhm. Just tired now.”

“Jay said you were asking for me.” 

“I always ask for you.” Your cheeks heat up and you try to ignore the snickers from behind you. 

“Why don’t we go back to my place, yeah? You can sleep in my bed instead of this bar.” 

“Can we? I love the guys but I just missed you.”

“Simp,” Heeseung whispers before coughing into his fist. 

Sunghoon stands from the booth once you’ve taken a step back to give him the space to move. He’s surprisingly able to stand on his own and clutches onto his jacket as he makes his way to the door. 

“Sorry guys,” he mutters to the guys. 

“Yah, it’s fine,” Jay says as he waves Sunghoon off. 

“Get home safe,” Heeseung says as he opens the door for the two of you. Sunghoon waves behind him until you guide him to the car. 

“Can you put your jacket on for me?” You catch it in your hands after he nearly let them fall from his grasp. 

“Shit, sorry.” You watch Sunghoon put on one arm and then the other. He looks so childlike in this moment as he concentrates his hardest to put the jacket on without stumbling. 

It reminds you that he doesn’t show you this side of him often. Sunghoon, ever the poised individual who likes to know what’s ahead of him, has let his inhibitions down. Seeing his figure slowly push his body through the warm fabric has you biting back a smile. 

“Need help?”

Sunghoon looks down at his hands that are trying to zip his jacket up to no avail. He feels like his hands are too big and the zipper is too small. “Please.”

Your steady fingers cover Sunghoon’s and take over the tedious task. The metal is warm from his fingertips. You can feel him looking down at you and you temporarily fumble with the zipper, which makes him laugh.

“Silly,” he mutters. “Ah, fuck. I don’t know if I can open the door.”

You roll your eyes and open it for him. “You’re funny.” 

He slides into the seat as gracefully as he can without hitting his head on the roof. Sunghoon struggles, but manages to buckle himself in and grins up at you when he hears the click of the buckle. When you look down on him, the lamp post from above casts a soft glow on his face. He looks so youthful at this moment. Sunghoon has let go of his thoughts and couldn’t think about anything but the present moment even if he tried. 

He waits for you and mumbles about how cold it is when you turn the engine on. The warm air starts to uplift his spirits and he looks at you with us head pressed to the headrest.

“I’m sorry you have to see me like this.”

“What?” you ask. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Dunno. Usually I’m the one taking care of you.”

“You don’t always have to be brave, you know.” 

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything. He reaches out to envelope your hand in his and squeezes it until he’s holding it loosely in the quiet of the evening.

“I love you.” 

Your heart blooms. “I love you right back.” He seems satisfied with your response and lets go of your hand so that you can drive back to your apartment. 

When you park on the curb, Sunghoon’s sober enough to unbuckle his seatbelt and wait for you to turn the engine off before opening his door carefully. He steps outside and leans back on the car door until you walk around the hood of the vehicle and grabs your hands to pull you into him. 

You feel his lips on your before you register what’s happening. He tastes faintly of pineapple soju and beer, and his mouth is warm. Despite his inebriated state, Sunghoon’s able to hold you between his hands as he moves to place them on your hips to balance your body after you’ve stumbled into him. 

The kiss itself is slow. In fact, it feels as though Sunghoon has slowed time around so that the two of you could enjoy the late night kiss uninterrupted. You can barely hear anything besides the ringing in your ears after being caught by surprise due to your boyfriend’s abrupt movements. Your mouths move in slow tandem and Sunghoon nearly pushes his tongue inside your mouth before pulling away to rest his forehead against your own.

“My baby,” he whispers against your lips before giving you another quick peck. 

“You are so cute.” You blurt out this confession like you’re still pining after him. “Let’s go inside, yeah?” 

The apartment is warm compared to the environment outside and Sunghoon slips off his shoes in favor of wearing his designated slippers. He doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time he does so, letting you pull him into the hallway until the two of you reach your bedroom. The hardwood floors feel better than the uneven pavement from outside.

He loves it here. It’s a sanctuary away from his apartment with the friends he will probably invite to his wedding. But something about your green comforter and hand-painted artwork adorning your walls makes Sunghoon feel like he would live by your side for the rest of his life. The scent of your room–warm peaches and vanilla–tugs at his heart strings. This is where he belongs. 

Likewise, you love seeing Sunghoon behave like this. It’s not commonplace for him to let people take care of him in the way you are now. He’s used to people looking out for his career and best interest but he struggles with allowing others to handle him with such care. After a decade of enduring harsh criticism and physical endurance, Sunghoon struggles to relax and allow others to take the reins. It’s partially why he loves taking care of you. Being able to provide that kind of love and support makes him feel wanted and needed, even if you tell him he’s more than enough a thousand times over. 

You leave him in your room to change his clothes taken from his designated drawer while you prepare skincare and the works. You hear him shuffle outside and fall onto the bed once, prompting you to hold your laughter in as you wash your hands and pull out hair clips for him to use. 

“I can’t lie,” Sunghoon says as you emerge from the bathroom to see him in a big t-shirt and pajama bottoms, “I’m really looking forward to you doing my skincare.” 

You snicker and pull your desk chair into the bathroom. “Now you know exactly how I feel every time I beg you to do mine when I’m drunk. Sit and close your eyes, please.” 

He follows your instructions and leans his back against the furniture. Sunghoon doesn’t fuss when you pin his hair back until it’s secure and allows you to make him feel pampered in a way he typically wouldn’t. 

“Did you have fun tonight?” 

Sunghoon hums. “Yeah, I did. The guys picked me up from my place and we had lunch at that seafood spot we’ve been meaning to try.” 

“Was it any good?”

“So good.” He licks his lips. “God, I’m still thinking about that shellfish soup. We ordered enough food to feed a village but it was so worth it. I wanna go with you.” 

“We can go wherever you want.” He smiles at your soft tone. 

“We also went to the beach and met some guys at the skate park by the highway. They were pretty nice and let us use their boards for a little. Heeseung got along with them the best, I think.”

“Heeseung makes friends with everybody.”

“He says he’s not social but that’s a lie.” Sunghoon twitches his nose when he feels a damp washcloth on his face. “We went to the bar afterwards and split it by round. I got the first and honestly, I don’t remember much after that.” 

“How are you feeling now, though?” you ask as you finish patting his skin dry. “Do you still feel dizzy?” Sunghoon opens his eyes and watches you apply a serum before dabbing it all over his face. 

“Not as much as before. I think I’m just tired.”

“And clingy, apparently.” 

Sunghoon smacks the back of your thighs. “Shut up. You love it.” You silence him by kissing his nose. 

While he brushes his teeth, you situate yourself underneath your plush covers and allow the weight of the blanket to fall on top of you. The sweet promise of a good night’s rest feels imminent, especially when you see your boyfriend emerge from the bathroom. He turns off the light and walks towards the empty side of the bed before he’s slipping himself beside you. 

Sunghoon’s an equal opportunist when it comes to sleeping positions. He loves it the most when your head is on his chest and when your arms are tangled in one another because he likes knowing that the two of you yearn for each other equally. But when he gets like this, Sunghoon takes initiative to maneuver himself until half of his chest and head are on top of you. He situates his arm around your waist and pulls himself closer to your body until a deep, satisfied sigh comes from the back of his throat. 

He hums in appreciation when your fingers begin to massage his scalp. Sunghoon’s hair is soft and silky and on most days, you’re the only person who gets to touch it. The slowness of your movements paired with the soft kiss you place on his temple makes his eyelids feel heavy. 

“Sorry you had to come pick me up,” Sunghoon mumbles against you. “I know we agreed to give each other some space this weekend.” 

“You should know by now that I’d do anything for you.” He feels you kiss the crown of his head. “Plus, we both know you’d do the same for me.” 

Sunghoon nods. “I would. You’re my girlfriend. Duh.” His sleepy nonsense makes you laugh. 

“You can go back to hanging out with the guys tomorrow if you want.” He shakes his head. 

“I want to get breakfast with you.” Sunghoon finds your free hand and presses a sleepy kiss to the back of it. 

“Whatever you want. We can get breakfast.” 

“If we wake up early enough.” 

You laugh again. “Yes, if we wake up early enough.” 

Sunghoon mumbles a few incoherent words that you can’t quite make out because of your own tiredness. When your own eyes start to droop, Sunghoon feels your fingers start to falter and looks up at you to see you’ve fallen fast asleep. 

He kisses the underside of your chin and falls asleep too.

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! x

[pellucid-constellations]

Favoritism

Pairing: Line Cook!Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel always seems to be working. Well, not always. Sometimes he's on the phone outside the restaurant with a massive smile on his face.

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: None

a/n: Another little piece for this AU!! I'm loving building it up and including all the characters. I'm also loving characterizing Azriel!!! I can't wait for it to get more juicy and to add some angst in the near future ;) Thanks for reading!!!

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

“Here again, Azriel?”

“I picked up Lucien’s shift,” Azriel explained, moving the pan side to side atop the flame. 

Elain hummed, her hip against the counter. “You all have such weird names.” 

Azriel rose a brow. “Your sister’s name is Nesta. And Feyre isn’t very common either.” 

“Yes, well my sisters are included in my definition of ‘all’.” 

Azriel hummed, pinching salt into the pan and flipping its contents. The heat from the stovetop warmed his fingers as he went, calling his attention to the tan lines along his knuckles—rings he constantly needed to remove for work, an action that had been even more prevalent in recent weeks. 

Elain spoke up again. “I feel like I see you here every time I work.” 

“You call out every other shift. Of course you’re going to see me on the off-chance you come in,” Azirel droned, but there was a hint of a smile on his face that had Elain scoffing out a laugh. 

“Oh, ha ha,” Elain mocked. “But seriously, Az, you’re always in this kitchen. I know for a fact that Rhysand wouldn’t make his best friend work so much. What’s the deal?” 

Azriel knocked his head to the side as he considered Elain’s question. He plated the meal he had been working on—the one that would send Elain and her barrage of questions away—and set it on the counter she occupied. He gave his hands a quick wash, flipping a hand towel over his shoulder and crossing his arms. The waitress had not moved from her spot. 

“Money.” 

Elain did not budge. “Money? You? I know you can afford that house of yours without all of these hours. Rhys pays you far too much.” 

Azriel gave her a look as if to say that’s my explanation. Take it or leave it. 

Elain was not taking that explanation, clearly. Azriel watched her roll her eyes and let out another scoff before swiping the plate from the counter. 

“Always so stupidly secretive,” she huffed. “You are ridiculous.” 

Elain missed the small laugh Azriel breathed out as she left in a flurry.

Azriel then noticed the small break in orders that was typical for this time of day and used the opening as an excuse for his break. He called out to the others in the kitchen and then made his way to the dining room with his phone loosely gripped in his hand. 

A few taps on the screen and your voice came through. 

“Hi, Az,” you greeted, a smile clear in your words.

“Hi, baby,” he smiled right back. The earring on his right ear clicked against the phone as he licked his lips and continued. “You not in class?” 

“I tried to plan my schedule around your lunch rush. No class between the hours of two and four.” 

Azriel felt his face heat a fraction. “Right. Forgot about that.” 

You giggled. “So, how’s work? I didn’t expect you to go in this morning.” 

“It’s fine. Work. I was just picking up a shift as a favor. But I’ll be off in time to get you for dinner.” 

Azriel listened as something shuffled in the back of your call—bikers whizzing past you, he assumed. That damn campus always gave him a heart attack. You called out a small apology he was sure no one was listening to before speaking to him once more. 

“You seem to owe a lot of favors, Az. Are you causing that much trouble over there?” you joked.  A small pause. “Also, do you think we could eat in? I don’t really have the money for a restaurant right now. My financial aid is not aiding me in the ways it should.” 

Azriel felt his heart clench at the humorless laugh you released. You lived on campus and relied on the school’s dining plan which did very little for you nutritionally and emotionally. He had offered—countless times—for you to live with him or let him buy you groceries or just straight-up give you money, but none of that made you comfortable. 

So, Azriel found other ways to solve this problem. 

Azriel hummed in feigned contemplation. “We could. But the boss gave me a gift card to that new place downtown. I figured we could use it to celebrate.” 

“Oh yeah? And what are we celebrating?” 

“You.” 

“Me?” you asked with an incredulous laugh. “Why on earth would we be celebrating me? All I’ve done recently is complain and cry a few times.” 

Azriel couldn’t remove the smile from his face. He slotted his wrist in the crook of his elbow as he leaned against the wall outside the restaurant. Damn you and all the ways you made him melt in public. 

“You only cried twice this month. We should celebrate that record. Not to mention you were crying over chemistry which we established was an acceptable response to that class.” 

You gasped and began rambling about your chemistry professor. Azriel briefly checked his watch and relished in the fact that he had twenty more minutes to listen to you speak. He happened to miss, however, the waitress who was listening in just around the corner. 

Elain was furious. 

First, Azriel had a girlfriend that she had no idea about. Which was ridiculous because Elain considered Azriel to be one of her closest friends. And second—and perhaps most appalling—Rhysand was handing out gift cards to the staff and she had not been a recipient of this graciousness. 

Elain narrowed her eyes and glared and the stucco lining the building before she slammed her way through the restaurant and straight into Rhysand’s office. The man calmly glanced up from his computer upon her arrival, an amused brow raised at her apparent fury. 

“Hello, Elain,” he greeted. Rhysand leaned back in his chair and interlaced his fingers at his stomach. “You seem in high spirits.” 

“Where’s my gift card?” she demanded, closing the door behind her with a harsh click. “You’re giving out gift cards and I have yet to receive one.” 

Rhysand blinked. “I haven’t given out any gift cards.” 

“And now you’re lying—great.” Elain plopped down in the cushioned chair on the other side of Rhysand’s desk. “I just heard Azriel talking about a gift card to that insanely expensive place that just opened. Rita’s or something. And he was talking to his girlfriend—did you know he had a girlfriend?” 

“I did—” 

Elain hadn’t been looking for a response. “He said you gave it to him. If you’re playing favoritism I will call the Better Business Bureau. And I’ll tell Nesta. You know how she gets around you. Also, why does Azriel, like, live here? Aren’t there laws around overtime? None of his seems fair and—” 

“Elain,” Rhysand calmly interrupted. “May I answer any one of your questions? Or, perhaps, speak?” 

Elain bit the inside of her cheek and nodded in annoyance. 

“Perfect.” Rhysand crossed his ankle over his knee. “I haven’t given out any gift cards. If I do, I promise you’ll be the first to know. It’s possible that Azriel used me as a way to take his girlfriend out to dinner—as he has done countless times. If you were to meet her, you’d see why that was a necessity. She’s very much like Feyre in that way. In that explanation is also the reason why Azriel is always here, working.” 

Elain felt her vexation deflate, but some of it lingered. “And why are you so knowledgeable about this mysterious girlfriend?” 

Rhysand only shrugged. “Azriel’s private. Protective. He knows all of you are a bunch of gossips.” 

Elain scoffed for the countless time that afternoon, still pissed that there was no gift card to be had.

[thehauntedetheral]

Can we get a yandere baker x reader pls?? 😭🙏 Thank you for your good stories like always

Thank you so much for your love. I hope you like this fic.

Yandere Baker

Requests are open !

• You got a new job. The same boring sitting in your cubicle and working on a screen. But the best part about your new job is a Bakery near your office.

• You were a regular customer there since the starting of your job as you have a strong sweet tooth. And on top of that their baked goods are so delicious that they are your new addiction now. They make the best pastries according to you.

• You go their everyday even on weekends as your house is near the office for their sweet treats that now the owner of the cozy bakery is your friend who always greets you with a cute smile. And not to forget that the baker himself was a treat for eyes with his apron, good looks, messy hairs and a boyish smile.

• Yan baker who has been owning this bakery for quite some years and is always busy with many customer. But you ... You are just awesome. The way your eyes sparkle while looking at all the baked goods kept at display, the way your face is glowing with a happy smile and vibes when you take the first bite of your pastry. This all makes him fall for you like a crazy.

• He always gives you freshly baked treats for free saying you are his "favourite customer."

• Always give you discount saying that this is for their all regular customers when in reality such thing doesn't exist.

• When he gets to know you love a specific pastry always make sure to bake them for you often even though it doesn't sell much.

• Bakes the most beautiful looking and delicious cake of your favourite icing and toppings for your birthday as a surprise.

• He loves weekends more because you stay at the bakery longer sipping coffee, reading book while enjoying coffee due to no office.

• One day you didn't came to the bakery which was very unusual so he goes to your house with a box of your favourites only to find out you are sick. (Yes this man and you spend time and talk so much in bakery that you both know a lot about each other even address. It's like you are best buddies.)

• Upon finding you sick he takes care of you and cook for you. This man's cooking skills are fantastic just like his baking skills.

• Names his new pastry after you. And also to mention that you were the first one to taste it.

• Yan once heard you saying that you wanted to learn baking one day. So after few weeks this man opens a baking class for afternoon weekends just for you to join. Tries his best to make you join his class.

• You asked him how all of a sudden he started classes. He only replies with "I love baking and I wanted my afternoons on weekends to get occupied by something".

• He is the happiest in the class teaching a bunch of people because you are their and his baking. His favourite person and thing to do of his under one roof.

• You and him would enjoy doing baking while dancing, singing to the music put on after class. (Some Kind of your own personal baking class 🤭). Yan would just stare looking at you doing all this thinking he is so lucky to even be near you.

• This man is so badly down for you. Your one smile or compliment on his baking he would becomes a puddle of blushing happiness .

• After mustering up enough courage he finally knocks at your door holding your favourite cake in his hand freshly baked by him and a question written with icing on it "Will you go on a date with me? Yes or absolutely yes"

• Well after all how could you say no to such a tempting offer including a delicious cake with a good looking baker holding it, right?

Requests are open!

Part 2 :

For more yandere reading:

[verstappen-cult]

LOVERBOY, M. VERSTAPPEN.

Just a typical evening / night with Max (and his frat brothers) in the early stages of your relationship.

Content. Major fluff & domestic Max.

A very long and hot shower and your skincare routine after the exhausting day of classes you just had, sounds like the perfect idea. But as you look down at the message displayed on the screen of your phone, you change route. 

[17:45] Max: Wanna spend the night with me?

You’re going to have to leave early in the morning to have time to go to your apartment and change clothes before your first class of the day, but spending the night with Max is totally worth it. 

The walk to the frat house is not long and in no time you’re standing in front of the door, slightly nervous. It doesn’t matter that you’ve been in the house and met most of his frat brothers a few times before; you always get nervous, hands shaking and butterflies erupting in your stomach just because you know you’ll be seeing him. 

The door opens revealing one of the boys and Max’s best friend. 

“How many times do we have to tell you,” He says as a greeting, grabbing your arm to get you into the house. “that you don’t need to knock? You’re basically one of us.” 

“Hello to you too, Lando.” The boy winks and places a kiss on your forehead before going back to what he was doing before your arrival. “Max is not here yet.” 

With just one look around you know that these boys haven’t cleaned the house in days, if not weeks. You remember Max told you about a party they had a few days ago, so you’re pretty sure they have not done anything besides lie around and go to classes. 

You pick up a couple of empty pizza boxes near the entrance and follow Lando into the living room. “Have you eaten?” 

“Yes,” He tries to smile with a slice of pizza in his mouth, hands busy playing FIFA.

“Something other than cold pizza?” Lando shakes his head, too concentrated on the game to pay attention to you trying to clean around. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Well, hello!” Alex enters the house, followed by George and Oscar. 

“Sorry for the mess.” George gives you a shy smile and a pat on the shoulder, while Oscar waves at you as he plops down next to Lando. 

“All right, I’ll make dinner.” 

They all cheer as you walk into Max’s room at the end of the hallway. 

You make quick work of getting rid of your clothes, changing them for Max’s shirt and sweatpants. You take a moment to breathe in, his scent filling your lungs and providing you a sense of calm. 

You take a few minutes to just lie in bed and text Max to let him know that you’re in the house. If you’re right, he still has half an hour until his last class ends, so you’ll have plenty of time to clean around the house and make some dinner. 

When you join the others, George and Alex are already tidying up and arguing with the two boys who keep playing, ignoring the “please help us” of their friends. You decide to let them be and escape to the kitchen. 

You wash the dishes and get rid of a lot of bad food and empty alcohol bottles before looking in every cabinet for something to cook. There is a lot of alcohol and bags of chips, as expected, but you are lucky enough to find some pasta and frozen vegetables. 

You didn’t notice when Charles and Dani got home, but now one is helping you cook while the other makes some drinks. Oscar grew tired of playing with Lando and is now sitting on the counter telling you all about something that happened during one of his lectures. 

“You should come more often.” Dani says, pouring tequila on a glass. “I’m tired of eating pizza or chips.” 

“You should learn how to cook, then.” 

You immediately turn around, heart hammering in your chest.

And there they are; your favorite pair of blue eyes. 

You want to run and jump into his arms, but feel shy with the boys around. However, Max doesn’t care about anything and simply wraps his arms around your waist from behind, placing a tender kiss on your cheek. 

“Did they force you into this?” He asks, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

“Of course not!” Oscar complaints, getting off the counter to remove the pasta from the heat, just to have something to do, really. 

“I missed you.” Max whispers just for you to hear. It makes you blush furiously, a shiver running down your spine. 

“Let’s eat, yes?” 

You eat in the kitchen, next to Max who rests a hand on your thigh while he eats with the other. Some of the boys sit next to you two, others decide to eat standing, resting against the cabinets. It's a pleasant atmosphere, everyone chatting and joking, drinking the weird mix of liquor Dani was pouring a few moments ago. 

Even though it is loud, you and Max are in your own little bubble, turning to face each other between bites of food and sharing shy smiles. 

When the boys decide that it's time to play a drinking game, you and Max retire to his room. 

Brushing your teeth takes longer than usual thanks to Max who doesn’t let you do anything, arms wrapped tightly around you as he kisses your face. He leaves you in the bathroom when you find a little bottle of face cleanser you left not so long ago. 

When you enter his room, he’s sitting on the bed with a book in hand. 

“I cleared a drawer.” Max says suddenly, not taking his eyes off the book. 

You slowly turn around, frowning. “That’s… good?”

“For you.” He clarifies, finally putting his book aside and letting you see his tinted cheeks. 

“A drawer for me?” 

You can’t help the grin that makes its way onto your face. 

Max shrugs, dismissing the importance of his action with a wave of his hand, and goes back to reading. “You can leave some of your clothes here. And I can make space for you in the bathroom, so you can leave some of your skincare things, too.” 

Your eyes light up as you turn around walking to his chest of drawers, pulling open the first one to see it completely clear. You want to scream and kiss him and pinch your arm to make sure you’re not dreaming. But all you do is slide the drawer back into place and walk back to the bed. 

Max follows your every move with a flushed face. 

You pull back the covers and slip underneath, Max immediately lifting his arm for you to curl up against him. 

“Thank you. This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” You say, resting your head on his chest. You feel his sharp intake of breath and fight back a smirk. “You’re a big softie.”

You’re not looking at him, but know that he rolls his eyes. “Shut up or I’m going to place all my shirts back in the drawer.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He doesn’t say anything, but kisses the top of your head. 

Max loves to read in bed. He said once, not so long ago, that he does it because it reminds him of the summers he used to spend with his mother as a kid. She loved to read to him, and it was Max’s favorite time of the day. 

Watching him read calms you. Watching the way his lips move, repeating the words in silence, or when he’s too invested and makes comments about what is happening, but then remembers that you’re there and apologizes.

“Read to me?” You ask, feeling the exhaustion of the day take over you.

“Of course.” He whispers.

Max rests his hand on your upper arm, caressing your skin, as he begins reading. You don’t really pay attention to what he’s reading, you never do but you love hearing him. His voice is always gentle and calm, and lulls you into a restful slumber. You always wake up rested and energized; sleeping in Max’s arms has that effect. 

[lovelyiida]

(NF) Hey lovely, I saw that you want requests. Could I request a iida x fem!reader fluff? I even have a prompt! You know how in MHA it’s winter break and everyone is bored at the dorms? Someone gets the idea to throw a whole fake wedding and invite all first years/the whole student body. The girls of 1A vote the bride and the guys vote the groom and reader is the bride and iida is the groom, which is good because they secretly like each other, y’know the drill. Iida and reader do the ceremony with vows and the rings and the kiss and all that. Also, there’s lots of cake and a huge party at the end with fireworks!!

That’s the cutest shi I’ve ever cooked up and I want someone talented to write it. If you could tag me to, that’d be awesome!

Love, psi kid 🎀

OHHHHHH MY GOD I FUCKING LIVE FOR THIS, this is seriously so cute. God, why can't I think of these ideas by myself??

꧁★𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝟏-𝐀 𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆★꧂ — afab

Snow falls gently outside, the world a picturesque white. The students of class 1-A lounge around, boredom plastered on their faces. It's a snow day, just great.

Ochaco twirls a strand of hair and glances at her friends. Even the lively Kirishima looks lethargic on the couch. Denki was about to sink into the floor if he couldn't find a way to annoy his fellow comrades.

Then, an idea sparked.

Ochaco's eyes spark with a twinkle and her lips curled into an intriguing smirk. "We need to do something fun, how about a fake wedding?"

The class exchanges intrigued looks, murmuring amongst themselves. Mina's eyes spark in excitement at the idea. "Yeah! We can vote and groom for our class. It'll be totally adorable!" She squealed.

Everyone nods in agreement as chatter bursts across the common space for today's event.

The entire Class 1-A along with various first years assemble outside, enveloped by the festive atmosphere. Electricity fills the air as the class has been sectioned into two groups to help figure out who will be the bride and the groom.

And out of the corner of your eye, you noticed IIda standing awkwardly in the midst of all this, glancing quick looks at you with a light blush. You couldn't help but chuckle to yourself and your friends at the act.

Later into the evening, the room now transformed with makeshift decorations and fairy lights strung everywhere (you can thank Momo for that). The class sat excitedly as Ochaco and Tsuyu held envelopes, ready to announce the lovely couple in waiting.

Standing at the improvised altar (standing on top of a table), they spoke with a grin.

"The results are in! The bride-to-be is... Y/n!"

The class erupts in cheers as you sit in shock of the results, slowing picking yourself off your feet, you stand in front of the "altar," as your face flushes in excitement. Tsuyu then spoke:

"And the groom-to-be is...Iida!"

Iida goes stiff, and his face turns crimson. The boys laugh and nudge him forward. Standing from his feet, he nears himself towards you and bows politely. You send him a wink of encouragement before whispering, "don't be so nervous. I bet you'd make a great husband."

Iida smirks at your words before whispering back, "and I know you'd make a wonderful wife."

As so, a makeshift ceremony begins!

Iida and you stand at the altar with hands intertwined. Wedding dress and suit on (thanking Momo once more!), looking like a match made out of heaven. Everyone watches eagerly as the both of you stand awkwardly, awaiting each other's vows.

"Don't chicken out, four-eyes," Bakugo chuckled. Iida side-eyed the blonde before clearing his throat and pushing up his glasses. "Y/n, ever since the first day we met. I knew you were a woman who I could spend the rest of my days with. You're kind, smart, beautifully-spirited, and one of the best teammates I could see fighting with me to the death..."

The class is swooned by Iida's words, you couldn't help but stand there in shock at the blatant confession thrown in your face.

"Y/n, I vow to always support and protect you...in sickness and in health...even in this mock wedding."

The class erupts in cheers as they hear Iida's beautiful poetic vows.

You chuckle, softening the moment once more.

"Iida, you're someone who I trust and care for deeply, you are a pinnacle in everyone's life and without you, I would be nothing. Your presence keeps me motivated and ready to take on whatever is ahead of me...because that's what you are and I deeply admire you for that."

"You're smart, you're hardworking, and super handsome..."

Iida quickly reddened at your words, your voice sounding like music to his ears. Oh, how he wished this was real.

"And I vow to always support and protect you...in sickness and in health...even in this mock wedding, or out of it."

As you finish, the class erupts in laughter as Iida and Reader exchange playful glances. Holding out your paper-made rings, you change and slide them onto each other's fingers. Ochaco and Tsuyu, beaming with joy, declare them fake husband and fake wife.

"You may now, fake-kiss the bride!"

You'd begin to go in for a simple kiss on the cheek, but suddenly Iida grabs a soft hold of your waist and scoops you down. Planting a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth.

A respectful man, we love!

Claps were heard around the room, but the moment between the two of you felt as if no one was there and the room was fading into black. As if nothing mattered but the to of you.

Mina teasingly claps before yelling, "I now pronounce you fake husband and fake wife! You may now fake-party!" The room transforms into a lively celebration, with music playing and students dancing joyfully.

Iida and Reader sneak glances at each other, their fake smiles turning into genuine ones. Photos and videos were taken throughout the night of the heartwarming moment between the class.

And as the night grew young, and the slow subsides. The both of you stand outside and look at the breathtaking array of stars that light up the night sky. Your hand tangled into his, as your head fell softly against Iida's broad shoulder.

Iida couldn't help but play with his makeshift ring, smiling to himself about what the future holds, and how he wanted this future to be a potential reality. Your head suddenly moves from his shoulder, which earns a soft hum from Iida.

You look at him with a light blush as you speak, "this was amazing... thank you, Iida." You spoke softly with a warm smile. "No thank you, Y/n, this night wouldn't have been the same without you."

You hum in response before placing your head back on his shoulder.

You share a quiet, perfect moment as the stars illuminate your faces as a "newlywed couple." Only for the moment to be laughed upon in the future, when your real wedding comes to fruition.

When someone who gives me a tenya rec tells me to jump, I'm gonna JUMP!!!!

— 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ𝓁𝓎𝒾𝒾𝒹𝒶 ❤︎︎

[paladinncleric]

Kitchen Capers.

Pairing(s): Jenna Ortega x fem!reader

Summary: Jenna and R's attempt at 'cooking'

Warning(s): fluff

Words: 1k+

A/N: Not a big fan of this, but kinda enjoyed writing it. Hope you like it!

Request

"Babe." Jenna poked my cheek as I concentrated on beating my highest score on Flappy Bird.

"What?" I said giving her a quarter of my attention.

"Babe." She poked my cheek again.

"Whaaat?"

"Babeeeee" She said as she repeatedly poked my cheek.

I groaned as I stared at the 'Game Over' on my screen just a few points away from my top score. I looked at her sitting beside me on the couch giving me her best innocent smile as I glared at her.

"Now what exactly do you need me for, Your Highness?"

She climbed up on my lap, straddling me, as she squished my cheeks together causing me to look like a duck, she repeatedly pecked my squished-up lips as I sat there with my arms crossed, which I eventually melted into cause who could resist her kisses? Certainly not me.

"Stop being cute and tell me what you want." I said as I caressed both her thighs exposed from her shorts while she caressed my neck, still in my lap.

"I was thinking we could make pasta to take to my mom's tonight."

"Okay...that sounds easy enough?"

"It's not."

"It's not?"

"I was thinking of making it from scratch..." Said Jenna trailing off absentmindedly playing with my shirt.

"Oh like not the store-bought kind?" I asked and she nodded.

"Well...can you?"

See, after recently moving in together we realized neither of us are all that big into cooking, with me lacking the skill and Jenna's career keeping her away most of the time. So, I've taken up some cooking classes to at least be able to feed both of us. But it's only been like a week so my skills are nowhere near good enough, I don't wanna accidentally poison someone. That's why we've been striving off of takeouts and dinners in her parent's place every once in a while.

Which is also why we've been invited to her family's house tonight for dinner, and Jenna being Jenna was determined to show them that she's capable of living alone without their help.

"Of course I can, I've watched my mom make it a hundred times." She said as she looked at me with furrowed eyebrows.

I chuckled and said to her, "Babe I'm sure you're aware that there's a difference between watching someone make it and making it yourself."

She stared at me annoyed, "Obviously, but how hard can it be right? I'm pretty sure I know all the stuff that goes in there."

"Are you actually sure? Cause we can call your mom an-"

"No! I want to do it all by myself and without her help for once."

I sighed at her stubbornness and said with my eyes narrowed "If I die tonight because of your food, I'm haunting you for the rest of your life."

"Wouldn't want it any other way, baby." She said with a chuckle and a quick kiss to my cheek and got up from my lap already on her way to the kitchen.

I sighed as I fall back on the couch and I pulled out my phone again to try and beat my score for the 5th time, but as soon as I got comfortable Jenna's voice boomed through the house.

"GET YOUR ASS IN THE KITCHEN Y/L/N, I WON'T SAY IT TWICE."

I groaned as I got up and made my way to the kitchen with slumped shoulders and mumbled a quiet "Yes mom."

Jenna immediately turned towards me again and asked with a glare "What was that?" Making it clear she heard me.

"Nothing." I said avoiding eye contact with her.

"That's what I thought. Now, get to work." She said then went back to taking out all the ingredients, which I followed to do after dramatically groaning.

**********

"Uh babe are you sure we added the right things?" I said as I looked at her trying to massage the watery dough.

"I mean, yeah, I'm pretty sure." She said with furrowed eyebrows and flour covering almost every inch of her face. I chuckled as I took a towel and turned her face towards me as I gently cleaned her face. After I was done, I gave her a kiss on her nose as she smiled at me softly and I smiled back.

"Thanks." She whispered.

I caressed her cheek with my hands as I replied, "You're welcome, gorgeous." She kissed my chin then went back to her work.

I watched her struggle for 10 more minutes as I say, " Uh we can check google if you want?"

"No! Nope! I said I'm not taking any help tonight. I'll figure it out myself." Jenna's stubborn ass said.

I sighed as I leaned back against the counter knowing it's gonna take a while. I would try and help her normally, but in these situations I'm even worse than her.

I watched her for a while, now with an hour and a half till we need to leave. When finally, she groaned and pushed away from the dough. She turned around almost into tears. I open my arms for her as she stumbles into it, her holding the back my shirt as I rub her back while trying not to instinctually move away from the wet dough smearing on my shirt from her hands.

"I really thought *sniffle* I could do this."

"Hey it's ok babe, don't be sad. I can totally become the perfect housewife/trophy wife for you after I'm done with my course. I mean, c'mon, at that point I'll almost be a professional chef."

"Shut up." She said with a giggle as she backed away from the hug and wiped under her eyes with her dough hands as she froze.

I saw her analyzing everything with wide eyes, to my dough-covered shirt, to her dough covered clothes from vigorous stirring of the dough, to her face now filled with dough to her hair and the kitchen floor covered in flour. Then finally, her eyes landed on the clock above my head which read exactly an hour left to leave.

"Shit!" She exclaimed as she ran for the bathroom.

"Hey! I need to shower too!" I yelled after her.

"Join me!"

I smirked at that and was about to respond, when she said, "Without your unholy thoughts!"

I laughed to myself, as I quickly cleaned the floor and threw the dough away while trying not to touch it. After about 10 minutes I was done, as I stripped my clothes along the way to the bathroom and threw it on the floor of the laundry room.

I finally got in the shower, as I saw Jenna washing her hair butt naked. I smirked and went to slide my hands around her waist, when she abruptly turned around and said with narrowed eyes.

"Don't even think about it."

I threw my hands up in surrender as I exaggeratedly looked her up and down with a teasing smile on my face. She groaned and went back to showering as I joined her under the water.

**********

After showering, I wear some slightly baggy jeans with a button-up and my converse, while Jenna wears something similar too.

We both nod at each other with an approving smile, as we run towards the door with us already being 15 minutes late.

We enter their house with Nat standing and pointing at her watch at the entrance. We both sheepishly smile as I give her a quick hug and Jenna gives her a kiss on the cheek as we both move on to greet the rest of the family.

"So, how's everything going back home? Settling well?" Jenna's dad, Ed asked us after we all finally settled on the table for dinner.

"I'm sure they are, was probably too busy 'unpacking' to get here on time." Aliyah said while quoting 'unpacking' with her fingers.

I coughed as I picked up my glass to drink my water so I didn't have to reply, while Jenna subtly kicked her under the table. I saw Aliyah wince as I struggled to hold my chuckle in.

"Everything's going great Dad." Jenna clarified.

"Except." I said as Jenna's head snapped towards me as she threatened me with her eyes.

"Don't you dare."

"Her attempt at spaghetti ended up failing so bad, it was hard to distinguish the edible part."

Aliyah and her parents burst out laughing, Jenna glared at me and smacked my shoulder with her hand as I stuck my tongue out at her.

"You could have asked for my help mija.”

I saw Jenna’s shoulder slump and she pouted at the table.

“I know but I wanted to prove a point.” She grumbled as she shoved bread in her mouth.

“Yea you proved it very well.” Aliyah said sarcastically.

“I’m still proud of you for trying at least, God help me I don’t wanna step foot in a kitchen anytime soon.” I said exasperatedly.

“You ever plan on cooking?” Asked Aliyah.

“Of course but only when I have the assurance I can cook something decent and won’t burn the house down.”

“Take all the time you need, Y/N. At least in this way I get to see my daughter more often.” Said Ed taunting Jenna.

“Daaaaaad.” Whined Jenna

“What?” Said Ed laughing at his daughter as she sat pouting again.

“Okay that’s enough, let the poor girl eat.” Said Natalie as she shook her head smiling.

**********

I unlocked the door as Jenna stomped in and went straight to our room as I sighed at her child-like antics. How can a person be so poise and yet childish? Fuck if I know. I locked the door behind me as I approached our bedroom slowly dreading what I’d have to face. I get in the room to see her getting ready to wipe her makeup already in her sleeping clothes. I stood there staring at her through the reflection of the mirror. Her eyes caught mine as she raised her eyebrows at me as I squinted my eyes at her.

“Do you have something to say?” She asked.

“Uh no…do you?” I replied as I stared at her confused.

“No…?”

“Oh okay great!” I brightened up significantly as I thought she had forgiven me.

I happily walked to the bathroom. Did all the necessary things, emptied my stomach, changed clothes, brushed. I happily trudged back into my room to see Jenna taking up the whole bed and my pillow nowhere to be seen.

Uh oh.

“So uh dumb question but where’s my pillow?”

“Oh they’re on the couch.”

Well, shit.

“My I ask why…?”

She just stared at me blankly as she faced away from me. I sighed and groaned as I flopped on the bed, half on her and half on the bed.

“I’m sorryyyy, we just always joke about your culinary skills and I thought you wouldn’t mind.”

“I told you I was trying to prove my independency to them, but you saying that proved the opposite.”

“Jen I’m pretty sure they know you’re independent, you literally travel country from country shooting films, most of the time alone.” I said as I looked at her quizzically.

“Well…yea but they were still reluctant with me moving in with you.” She countered back.

I laughed as I pull my head up to look at her and say “That’s because you’re their little girl and of course they’re gonna be sad and kinda worried about you moving out of their home for the first time.”

Jenna groaned as she put a pillow on top of her face and said “I knowww it’s just them being so, I don’t know, over-protective this way makes me feel like they don’t trust me with taking care of myself.”

“At the end of the day, they still let you right? focus on that. I think they let you ‘cause they know I’ll be here.” I said with a smug smile as Jenna rolled her eyes at the bullshit I just spewed.

“Also I think you’re parents think we’re like, some sort of, sex crazed people...oh my god is this why they were reluctant?” I said as I made a ‘mind blown’ face.

“No, of course not why would they think that?” Jenna said as she looked at me confused.

“Well with the way your mom makes sure we have weekly check-ups and your dad’s The, by the way very terrifying, ‘Talk’ he gave me I’m pretty sure they do.”

“Oh my god, shut up you’re being ridiculous.” Jenna said laughing as I smiled finally hearing it.

We laid there for a while, me half on her and half on the bed as she stroked my hair. After a while, she stops and says.

“I’m still mad at you though.”

“Oh please, woman you’re not fooling anyone.” I say as I get up to get my pillow back.

“Ugh you’re lucky you’re cute." She said and I responded with a 'duh' face.

"The lower half of my body is numb because of you asshole.” Jenna said as she wiggles her toes in my face as I stand in the doorway of our bedroom and smack her feet away.

“This is what it feels like being the bigger spoon most of the time, except it's the upper half, so now YOU deal with it.” I say as I quickly stick my tongue out and move out of the way as a pillow comes straight to the door. I stuck my head in again as I look at the pillow and her on the bed with deadpan eyes and say.

“Hahaha you miss-“ a pillow smacks against my face.

“Now go get your pillow and hurry up I’m tired.” Jenna said as she situated herself on the bed again.

“Yes ma’am.”

**********

“Does it actually feel bad to be the bigger spoon?”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“But you just said.”

“I like it as long as you’re my little spoon.”

[cheezeybread]

Yuu's Overblot, Part Three!

The final chapter, the end to this triage of angst and stuff! Yippeeeeee!

- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

"Hey, YN!" Chirped one of the students in your Alchemy class, leaning across the table to give you an award-winning smile. He had short hair, nearing a buzzcut, allowing his ears to twitch and move freely- what was he, a jackal beastman?- and wore a Savanaclaw uniform. "You wanna be partners for this assignment?"

You forced down a groan, knowing this guy's habit of partnering up with you for projects and leaving you high-and-dry to do all the work yourself. Before you could reply, you felt a hand gently rest itself on your shoulder.

"Actually, they said before class that we could partner up." You glanced up to see Jade, giving a tight-lipped smile at the Savanaclaw boy.

"How's about you and me partner up, Sunfish?" Floyd asked with a wide grin, appearing out of nowhere and squatting down to be eye-to-eye with the boy. Without waiting for a response, he wrapped an arm around the students and began to drag him away, the Savanaclaw boy whining fearfully as his tail tucked between his legs.

You leaned back in your chair to look up at Jade, eyebrow raising "Sunfish?"

"They're useless creatures who are rather ugly..." Jade chuckled, putting a hand over his mouth "My dear brother enjoys putting the nomer on creatures he finds unsavory."

"You guys are nuts," You chuckled. They weren't even in this class with you, since they weren't Freshmen. But lately, they had a tendency to show up whenever you needed it most. Especially when it came to classmates wanting to use you to do their work for them. But sometimes they weren't there....which gave you a perfect opportunity to practice on saying no to any students.

But you'd be lying if you said you didn't find it entertaining to watch the tweels use their powers of being terrifying for your benefit.

---

Everything was getting better.

All of your friends- even the Housewardens you weren't on the best speaking terms with- began working harder to make your life easier. Riddle made sure you understood all of your assignments, and helped you learn new studying techniques. Trey baked you goodies. Cater helped you learn more about the world through social media. Ace and Deuce were more supportive and protective of you. Leona, Ruggie, and Jack all made sure that you had a room available in Savanaclaw if anything happened again- or if Ramshackle were to collapse on itself. Azul made sure his VIP door was almost always open to you if you needed financial advice, and he made good on his promise to get you an easy job. The Twins, well....they did their thing. Kalim invited you to every party he threw (not that he didn't do that before) and gave you gifts from his homelands, providing you with furniture and decorations for Ramshackle. Jamil made sure you ate well, cooking whenever he felt you were having a bad day. Vil helped you with skincare and Alchemy work, even lending you some potions to use in "emergency" situations if you ever came across unsavory folks. Rook was- well, he was Rook. Epel offered a helping hand in the way of a beating if anybody messed with you. Idia and Ortho made certain that you had more than enough tech to keep you on a level playing field with magic-users. Malleus lent a shoulder to cry on and a venting buddy. Lilia and Sebek taught you self-defense. Silver was also a venting buddy, but he offered less than reasonable solutions to your problems (most of which were purely for chuckle purposes). And Grim tried to get into less trouble. Tried.

And all of the Housewardens kept their promise about researching a way to get you home. You'd receive updates on their progress once a week. Sometimes they'd have a bit of info found in an old library book that might have been about your world, or maybe a passage found on dimensional travel. Sometimes they wouldn't have any updates, but they'd still be sure to tell you.

And as for Crowley himself. Well....Malleus wasn't lying when he said that he had him tied up in Diasomnia's basement. It gave you an opportunity to have a nice little "chat" with the Headmage without him interrupting with his incessant babbling. It almost pained you to take the gag off of him. But the two of you came to an agreement that you wouldn't be doing his work for him anymore. You would be living in Ramshackle for free, not only because you and Grim were a student together, but because it was the Mirror's fault you were trapped here. You owed Crowley nothing for merely existing in the wrong place.

And you started to feel better about life, bit by bit. With almost all of the pressure taken off of you, it made life feel more easy, more relaxing. You started to enjoy your time in Twisted Wonderland, even! Maybe if there really was no way for you to go home, then you could make a happy life for yourself here.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

But it was nice to have the option. And it was nice to feel okay since this all started.

You were better.

- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

[mellowyellow236]

hear me out for thos request but ace and sebek with a reader whos a little like silver where animals just flocks to them. Reader isnt really too bothered having gotten used to birds just landing on their hair or that little creatures will accompany them one way or another. Except that the boys and the animals just have beef with one another vying for the reader's attention i think thats a hella funny thought

Thank you so much for the ask, anon! This is the first request I've finished on my blog, so yay! :))

How Would Ace And Sebek React To A Reader That Is Often Followed By Animals?

GN!Reader, fluff. 

Ace Trapolla - 

At first, Ace didn’t mind. After all, why would he? You’re his friend, and he doesn’t care about the animals in his friend's hair. They give you extra flower crowns or whatever, that’s not a big deal. Not at all. Nope, not one bit. He has absolutely no problems with the animals. None. 

Okay, he shooed them away a few times, but that’s normal! You’re just too used to those weird little creatures. You were eating, you shouldn’t have had birds near you! They could take away some of your food! If you think about it, he’s just being a good friend. He's such a good friend, in fact, there’s absolutely nothing about him that could make you think he wasn’t acting in your best interest. Even if those birds were bringing you berries as you claim, how are they supposed to know if they were poisonous? They’re birds! You could die! He saved your life! 

And no, he never punched a squirrel. He just... Realized something was coming up on your shoulder and hit it away. Just a little slap. Definitely. He didn’t ball up his fist and aim or anything. He loves animals, look at the hedgehogs! They don’t bite him while he’s feeding them, only after! They’re hard to befriend, or something... 

Besides, that’s the same squirrel that was hitting him with nuts! Remember? He was being pelted with acorns! And no, he didn’t start it but made a face at the squirrel. He was blowing raspberries at the tree, obviously. The squirrel just took it incorrectly, he’s done nothing wrong. And how come it gets to be nicknamed ‘Fluffy’? Ace is just as fluffy! Look, he’s right here! He would be even fluffier if you did his hair like you brush that stupid squirrel!  

Sebek Zigvolt - 

You’re similar to Silver, so the animals are a fact that Sebek doesn’t think much of at first. Birds on your head, mice in your pockets, whatever. It doesn’t matter to him. He’s used to those around him having abilities he doesn’t, though normally those are combat related, and it’s not as though he desires yours. 

That is until an animal decides to sit in your pocket for an entire day. A tiny mouse, which you had in your jacket during every class. Even at the times when Sebek couldn’t accompany you! It was very cute, but Sebek was screaming at you! Why? Because the mouse could be dangerous, of course! Why else? You’re a stupid human if you truly believe an animal coming up to you isn’t a mark of disease! Just look at it! 

From that point on, he was a little more overprotective of you. After all, you could be hurt! He couldn’t possibly allow that! He would rather fight the bear that just gave you a fish than allow you to come in contact with it again. Besides, he can get a better fish! Look at him, human! He got you a bigger fish- What do you mean the bear came back. What do you mean it’s got two more fish. Fine! If you’re going to accept fish from a bear, he’ll just have to cook those fish for you! To make sure they’re edible! Lilia and Malleus would be very upset if you died because of bear-poisoned fish! 

He ends up in a three hour, five course meal competition with the animals. On the positive, you have enough food for the next week. On the less positive side, you’ve had to watch a guy start a fight with a moose after jumping into the water. And lose. You’ve had to watch a knight lose a fight to a moose. Then again, can you really blame him? Of course not, human! Especially after you gave him such a lecture, and he’s fine now! You made sure of that after you bandaged him! So, why are you still concerced? He won’t do it infront of you again, if you’re so upset about seeing him hurt! 

[lady-ashfade]

Unpopular class 1A characters and their yandere traits!!

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Characters: Kouji Kouda, Rikidou Satou, Mashirao Ojiro, Yuuga Aoyama, Fumikage Tokoyami, Tooru Hagakure, Mezou Shouji. {Class 1A as a whole yandere group tho}

WARNINGS: Yandere Behaviors, Stalking, Violates, Crazy Behavior, I don’t condone this in real life only fiction, so many spelling errors I’m so sorry.

GENRA: HCS

Rikidou Satou

Equally could be platonic or romantic.

I want him as a yandere so bad. I think he’s perfect, and not just because our quirks would be similar—

He is more of a tame yandere and really just wants to protect you, but respects you so much. So let me explain.

Is the type to wanna baby you, and 100% will when the time is needed but he also loves when you feel confident. So he’s not the type to wanna get your hero license taken away. But doesn’t like you on your own fighting either.

Pocket full or treats for you. Take down a villain? Treat. Get the tests right? Treat. SMILE AT HIM? Treat for you.

He’s not as crazy as his classmates but can be convinced to do anything that is needed.

Satou wants to be noticed by you since he is more in the background, or not in the loud groups that do get your attention. So he tries to be the best at things they aren’t just for you to be around him. Like baking sweets for you anytime you- does guilt trip you and put you on the spot sometimes.

“I know everyone is busy, I just thought you’d be my taste tester- No worries, I’ll just wait until next week.” Stuff like that to get you to feel a bit bad for rejecting him.

Alone, Satou would be a comfortable yandere to deal with but when he’s group up, can be worse. He’s is always going to be the reasonable one.

 Doesn’t have a big shrine of you, but does keep a shoebox under his bed with things you have given or lost. He isn’t creepy so nothing is weird in this pile. Literally just takes things you forgot behind in class or in battle.

What would happen if they become dangerous? Or more crazy? Group or alone.

Still big on the chill side.

When the group/or him kidnapped you, he’s going to just be a friend and try to stick up for you when he can.

WILL FIGHT FOR YOU TO GET SOME SUN! He knows it’s important.

If he or the others need to punish you, tries to get you a light punishment. And really easy to sucker into sneaking you snacks, or just giving.

Tho, he will never be the one giving you any type of punishment. Like locking you in your room or anything else.

If he’s alone yandere, he’s taking away the internet and your game console….Which lasts about two days before your begging gets to him.

Kouji Kouda

More platonic yandere but he’s a cutie so, whatever you want boo.

You know how I feel about quite sunshine characters— let me cook.

He is tame- he’s a sweet yandere to have and much like satou….But he does have some tendency that could be really creep.

Stalker this little guy— has birds or other small animals watching your every move. Outside your window at night, walking to class, training.

He’s not dangerous and would never hurt you. Also respects you as a person, wouldn’t take your hero licenses away, likes when you fight beside him. So you have that going for you.

He’s using cute animals to worm his way to your side and in your life more. If you’re the type to not wanna hang out with anyone, oops- how did that bunny get into you room? So he’s using animals to be near you. And it works most of the time. Because he is quite and pleasant to be around so you let him in your room while you pet the animals. I see you guys study or doing homework together and just chilling in your room in silence.

He wants to baby you but is too shy to do anything, please— would explode if he pets your head even once. He is the type to wanna comfort you but doesn’t say much, just kinda lets you cry on his shoulders if you need it.

“Bunny?” Shoves a bunny in your face while tears stream down your cheeks.

Freaks out if you get hurt. He’s screaming when you got a bloody knee from tripping and is running to get a first aid kit and the others. It’s weird, he sees you get punched and kick, and hates it, but freaks out over the little things.

Has, and will cry again if you get a paper cut.

He’s not Alone. I don’t see him really as a yandere to not work in a group, doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be. If he’s alone his tendency are more under the radar and will never act on anything.

Doesn’t have a shrine. Doesn’t really take things from you either. But will place things you give him in a box where they are nice and safe. Also will have a picture of you together on his wall.

What would happen if they become dangerous? Or more crazy? Group or alone.

If he were to ever actually become crazy like the others it would be more dangerous.

He has animals, can control any of them. So, he would have poisonous animals or insects. And will cause harm if he’s corrupted.

Like I said, if he’s with a group he’s okay with them kidnapping you- but alone I don’t think he would.

If he’s all by himself, he’s somehow getting you to move in with him.

Doesn’t like you getting punished and I don’t think would ever actually punish you. IF he had to, I think he limited your animal hours down.

Tooru Hagakure

Crazy cult fangirl yandere. Literally she’s crushing on you and fangirl so hard over you just looking at her. So she’s romantic, or if you want platonic. Wouldn’t force you to have feelings for her but he feelings stay the same. (at least in this fic)

What doesn’t this girl do? Stalks you everywhere, she can’t be seen. Steals your stuff all the time when your not looking.

Does baby you. But also hypes you up to be like a god. Thinks everything you do is better then anyone on earth or the galaxy. You could literally sit down and she’s wonder “How can they be so cute?” PLEASE SOMEONE COME GET HER-

She could be one to take your hero license away or not. Depends on your quirk or her level of craziness.

If you have a quirk that’s not getting much better or she thinks isn’t going to keep you safe in the long run- kiss your freedom goodbye. But if you have a overpowered quirk and are in the top five in class. She’s freaking out.

I don’t think she would hurt you. So you don’t have to worry about her doing things really messes up. Her love is just overwhelming to handle, even platonically.

She’s touching you 24/7. Playing with your hair even if you push her away, taking your hand in hers to lead you somewhere, kissing your cheek when you do well.

Love letter yandere anyone? Leaves letters in your locker or bag every few days. How good you look each day, telling you she wants you to kiss her or protect her, to hold your hand for longer then a few minutes, where she wants to get married—

Honestly, she will do anything you ask her to. Because you asked her, only her— you need her! She will run off to do what you want her too. If she’s annoying you, all you have to do is ask her to go get you a snack and she’s out of your room like the flash to get it.

Takes millions of pictures of you— is the class picture dealer. Like image her in the dead of night, hoodie on, making a trade off of your pictures. “What do you want? I got ones of them sleeping, got one fighting a villain” trades for almost anything. Other pictures they took, things of yours, even cash.

Has a shine for sure! It could be in her locked closet, or a really big box that she pulls out and sets up right before bed and prays to it like a god. Has made a you doll and kisses it before bed.

“Please, let them look at me tomorrow— let them touch me in anyway! I’ll take anything”

Mentioned before she steals so she has your clothes, jewelry if you wear it, even your homework you threw out just to see your handwriting. Pictures too…..I wouldn’t put it passed her to have hair.

If you tell her you like the outfit she has on, wears it and similar things from now on. Maybe she was wearing Minas or the other girls clothes. She will burn her own and replace them immediately of things you like.

What would happen if they become dangerous? Or more crazy? Group or alone.

Doesn’t really get more dangerous because she’s not a “dangerous” yandere. She’s just a stalking/worshipper yandere. Kinda like your own personal cult follower if you will.

Only way she would hurt or kill is with the other girls. And even then it’s a stretch. Unless it’s a female that she or the group doesn’t know, then she would hurt someone.

Wouldn’t kidnap you on her own though, like Kouda she will trick you into living with her. But wouldn’t be mad if the group wanted to kidnap you.

Shocker- wouldn’t punish you and really tries to tell the others not to.

Cult type again, wants to be hurt or have the restrictions that you do just to know what you’re going through- even will let you yell at her to let your frustrations out. She’s there for anything you need!!

Punishment on her own is trying to ignore you for a while, but ends up only lasting five minutes until she’s apologizing with tears.

Fumikage Tokoyami

I think also as equal to romantic or platonic.

Silent watcher type vibes. He stalks a bit, and his behaviors are hidden. Only ones that know about them are his classmates.

Watches you like a hawk- Ha! He really enjoys just watching you from a distance for a while, how you look when it’s quiet and your studying alone. What interests you do alone. And he doesn’t mind watching you hang out with others, he likes to see you smile. (Only with his classmates)

Kinda babies you. He just pushes you out of harms way even if you took down ten villains, “I’ve got you.” So that’s kinda babying. He knows your capable but he just really wants to be your hero. (Hero by skillet) But don’t get him wrong, he finds it cute if you’re powerful and take down villains! Loves the look of justice in your eyes.

Would he take away your hero license? Yes and no. Depends.

Can be easy agreed to it with others and by himself, but if someone makes a good point to keep you in the hero agencies he’s also willing. More Satou a bit when it comes down to it. He just wants you fighting low level villains, nothing high threat and will be there by your side.

When he does get out of the shadows he’s so chill to be around. Just stays by you and does anything you are doing. Studying? He’ll sit with you. Need someone to play a game? He’ll be happy to.

Gets flustered to. Complement this man and he’s hiding in the corner like Tamaki. Pat his shoulder and he’s gone.

He’s kinda just around you, not too chatty but not quite if you want him to be. He really just wants to be someone you want around.

Has a poem journal that he writes in daily and all of them are about you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he and Jiro turn them into songs.

Would never ever hurt you! Who do you think this man is? I feel like he would raise his voice once out of concern once and then beat himself up over it and feel so unworthy of your attention that he wouldn’t speak to you for a month.

Small shrine, like a deity’s. Candle, rocks and other things you might like, about two photos and keeps it hidden in his closet. Lights it and sits at it while reading over his journal, then once again in the morning before going to class.

Dark shadow is kinda different then him and will shoot out of his body to talk to you. It’s so different. Tokoyami is sitting at his desk across the room while dark shadow is talking your ear off. That shadow really loves you and is so annoying, but it’s cute. Is the voice of chaos in Tokoyamis head.

“Steal their jacket, I wanna sleep with it at night.” “I could slap Izuku away from them—” “Did y/n see me while training? Did I look cool?”

Has stolen your jackets mostly, again anything you have left that he can find but isn’t too worried about it. I think the only reason he actually has the jackets is because of darkshadow taking them but likes them to much to give it back.

What would happen if they become dangerous? Or more crazy? Group or alone.

Dangerous? He could be but normally no, unless he snaps or is under the influence of the group.

Darkshadow on the other hand would be at night, seriously really. Have you seen him when he’s not controlled? Imagine as a yandere.

But alone I don’t think so. They both are kinda chill, even might let you live a normal life as they are your guardian. Like buying a apartment near you, watch you grow old as they do too.

Probably wouldn’t kidnap you. And if romantic, will try and make you fall for him so he doesn’t have to kidnap you! It’s so much better if your willing to love him.

Might hurt someone mildly if they are too close, might also kill somebody if they are trying to hurt you.

If kidnapped by the group he’s trying to make you feel better, get you out into the sun would be nice.

Punishment with him is light, will lock you in your room for a week, with limited screen time thats only tv for two hours a day, but of course feeds you everything you need.

But with the group he’s not going along with anything they say. Hates strong punishments they give you, and has had to be knocked out to get him to stop fighting back.

Yuuga Aoyama

I am mostly writing for platonic but imagine what you want!!

Fanboy Cult and worshiper. He’s strange to describe. Thinks the world of you, thinks you are better then everyone else, but “You could use a better wardrobe.” You know? Might see you as a doll of some sort.

Thinks he can “fix” you imperfections that still make you so much better then the rest. Outfits, your hair, makeup if you wear it, how to make yourself a flashy hero. He has pointers for everything!

He really does love you tho. Will get you a red carpet and have you walk it all day long anywhere you go because you deserve it.

If you have a powerful quirk? He’s jumping behind his savior. You wanna protect him, you’re the most precious on the earth. So he pays you back by being your most loyal follower!

Meets with Hagakure to do trades of your stuff he steals because he’s constantly in your room, even if you try and push him out. Like I mean this man has bags full of stuff from over the year of school and everything.

“I got hair brushes, toothbrushes, earphones” the list goes on and on for dealer Aoyama.

Even if not romantic, he’s laying on you while watching a movie, that’s just him- and giving you cheese! If your lactose intolerance, he found a way to give you fake cheese that’s so expensive.

Does baby you so much as try and guide you like a personal assistant. “Straighten your back” or “use more of your leg power” in training or taking pictures, anything you can think of. “Throws” out your clothes and gets you new ones that make you look better. Like I said, you’re a doll and he’ll pull the strings!

Using so much guilt trip on you, you might be color blinded to a red flag. Hangouts, you said you would? Why are you lying, did you forget you promised?.He is trying to get every ounce of attention from you he can, and if it means making you feel a little insecure he will do it.

But is still a follower so he will try and impress you himself, after all you’re his god! Need something expensive, take his money! Eat his food. He doesn’t really care what you need, just call on him and your wish is his command.

What would happen if they become dangerous? Or more crazy? Group or alone.

The exact same if in a group of alone. He’s obsessed over you, and ready to be your follower.

Doesn’t hurt or kill anyone. It’s not his style, might ruin a nail or get blood on his clothes. No he’ll leave that to the others.

Kidnap? Not alone, he’s making you move in with him in a big mansions where you have everything you want. Pays for everything so you can live like a god.

But not against it in a group, still decorates you new home with things you like. He doesn’t care, he’s just going to be with you!

Punishment— Taking away your cards so you can’t shop. For a week, you can’t use his money.

“I’m not cruel,” he whines as he places things he bought for you on the table, “I just said you couldn’t buy anything.” Feels so bad he caved and buys shit for you, only to give you back the cards.

I feel like gift giving and money is his way of showing his love. You need him- you can’t leave him if you need money to survive.

Group punishment: no matter what happens he’s going to buy you shit to make you smile again. Wouldn’t be in the same area if they do something other then locking you in a room.

Mashirao Ojiro

Romantic, but also platonic and wouldn’t force you to like him back.

“Friendly” obsessed protecter yandere. If romantic, he’s the secretly in love with you best friend.

Even if your quirk is more powerful then is, he’ll still stand in the way of danger for you, his darling.

Masks his behaviors well, because he’s just a cool loving best friend. Nothing weird about it. I believe he started out slow, even if he was still obsessed with you. If the class was acting on their tendencies, he pulls back and makes himself look like the most uninterested one there.

So you obviously go for him and befriend him. While the others flock towards you and constantly bicker over you. Ojiro got your back for just being a friend! And he really plays it so well, man manipulated you into thinking he’s normal. 😐

Until he wasn’t, or you were more comfortable now and best friends. He started to touch you more but not as often as the others— and in subtle ways. Like pats on the head, shoulders, then helping you train and pushing your body around. Then comes your head on his shoulders, or his arm around your shoulders. He’s still soft about it and never does it for long.

He doesn’t baby you, but teases you like best friends do. Or helps you when you need to be help. The only time I see him “babying” you is in combat because he doesn’t want you to get hurt. (Boy- you just took down a super villain)

You have access to his tail at anytime of the day, keeps it looking nice just for you and allows you to do anything. Like put bows on it, braid it, you wanna put some semi-permanent dye on it? Go ahead.

Does stalk you sometimes but hardly ever. Or, follows you around. He does have a tracker placed on your phone so he knows exactly where you are.

Hang outs in your room all the time just to play video games and study. He’s always trying to make you laugh.

He does steal. Leaving things in his room? He doesn’t remember you leaving it, maybe check your room! Almost anything you leave in his room is his now, and boy does he gaslight you into thinking your crazy.

Shrine! Shrine! Closet shrine for sure so he doesn’t knock anything over. Pictures, things he stole, flowers, small notes he’s written to you, anything.

Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss. Can’t tell his tendencies because he hides them, or makes you feel insane for thinking he’s weird. I means, he’s nothing like the rest of them so maybe you are just paranoid.

“Don’t sweat it, I once thought denki would hide in my room to play with my tail,” he just smiles and shrugs off your accusations. Inside his screaming to not mess this up.

What would happen if they become dangerous? Or more crazy? Group or alone.

Not dangerous alone, not dangerous at all even if he went crazy.

Listen I love this man but he wouldn’t scare me as a yandere. Because he is still sweet and loving, even if he is a little crazy.

But he would beat up people don’t get me wrong, or threaten them anonymously and frighten them so much. Really just threats people to stay away from you. Has giving his fair share of black eyes.

Kidnap? Yeah, I think he would. I feel like this guy would kidnap you if he wanted to. Because you trust him and it’s easy to let you guard down around him, so he slips something in your drink and takes you to your new home!!

So he is okay with the group kidnapping you, and wants to do it in a non traumatic way. 

Punishment: might chain you up and lock you in a room, but he’s not cruel. Gives you good meals but no desserts and plays a movie for you every day for entertainment. Only stops when you’re ready to say your sorry for what you did.

Group punishment: doesn’t wanna hear about hard punishment if you get them, so he just visit you when it’s all over or going on. He will try and comfort you like he always did, let you pet his tail and even wants to hold you while you cry!

“I’m sorry pumpkin, but this is all for your own good! Now just cry and eat your dinner.”

Mezou Shouji

Lemme start off by saying this, I don’t write for him a lot- BUT BOY DO I LOVE THIS MAN.

Can be seen as platonic or romantic, kinda going for both.

Protective sneaky watcher yandere. A lot like Tokoyami in so many ways, likes watching from a far. I think he wouldn’t know how to express his feels because he just feels so much and doesn’t wanna scare you off. So when is around you, he’s silent at irst.

Has the main three type of protective behaviors, like pulling up behind him or fighting for you. Doesn’t care if you can snap you fingers and everything is gone. You’re his darling, If you powerful- in his eyes you’re weak and need to be sheltered from the world.

So is all in favor to make you stop being a hero, might even be the type to frame you if it feels necessary. You might be able to convince him to be a sidekick for him or another hero WHO he also follows around. You’re not fighting pro level, help the people who have stolen bicycle or lost their cat in a tree.

Did someone say stealer? HIDE YOUR SHIT! Lost a item? Found your drawer half open and missing a shirt or other things? Shouji breaks into your room, even finds Deku, Shoto, and even bakugo and the girls in there sometimes. Doesn’t care, they snoop together. “This never happened.”

At first he was scared of frightening you, but slowly over time he warmed up to you. So much that you both became friends, or friendly acquaintances. MF would pat your head so much like you’re a pat. From getting a answer right, to eating all the food on your plate, headpat for his darling.

Holds you all the time in his little arm holder thing, like he kept Froppy in, or just wraps all his arms around you. You better hope you can tolerate him because he’s not letting go.

Might baby you a little but not to hard. Mostly pats on the head, candy for being good- wait, let him tie your shoes. Babying without degrading words. (Unlike Bakugo)

Does have shrine- or at least kinda. Just has a pile of your shit and hides it, then at night he smells the clothes and holds them close. No candles or anything. Probably has a photo shrine tho.

What would happen if they become dangerous? Or more crazy? Group or alone.

He’s not that dangerous, leaves violents mostly to the others and takes care of you. But alone he’s not doing much.

Would kidnap you. Alone or with a group. The only one on this list that would probably go with the group to take you away.

Alone, it’s nice because he just wanted to cuddle and protect you. Will chain you if you don’t behave and will keep you like that for life, so just be good! Buys you anything you want too. Food, clothes, games. Might let you out of the house but only in private areas.

Grouped, really just wants to be there for you and with you. So, he just stays near you, or watches you from the security cameras while you sleep.

Punishment alone- chained up like I said but not much more, unless no contact with you other then food. Leaves you alone in your room until you’re saying sorry.

Punishment grouped, same as alone. He’s okay with it unless they wanna hurt you, then he draws the line! No one should hurt his precious darling! Will be there with a comfortable hug no matter what happens!!

[tonyboneysblog]

MOTHER HEN: PART THREE

parings: hawks x mother!reader

word count: 2.9k

warnings: talks of abuse/ trauma!

notes: yall I cooked on this angst chapter (there’s comfort after I swear)

summary: You, the mother of Fumikage Tokoyami, are just a simple nurse! Who caught the eye of a certain pro.

It’s been maybe a week or two since Fumikage, your precious angel, has spread his wings and joined U.A.

and today is currently your off day! Which isn’t completely rare but you still enjoy them.

Most the time you clean and tidy up the house, checking the fridge to see if you need to get groceries- which is your favorite because you love going to the grocery store and-…it’s full?

inside has a small note in Fumikages hand writing…

“Decide to go shopping for you so you could rest, Love Fumikage & Dark Shadow.”

darn your amazing son.

so now, you don’t have anything to do because your son decided he wanted to helpful.

So what do you do?

watch the news of course.

Nothing interesting is happening today really, maybe today is just a slow day!

those are your least favorite.

but then, your savior came, that one bird guy you saw at the restaurant!

apparently he was doing an interview today on channel 58, and you were only slightly interested in him.

So you switch to the channel obviously, seeing his amazing wings that were much bigger than yours…

you really don’t know how long you watched that interview- then decided to watch a few videos on his quote, “epic saves”.

Maybe it was the wings, they were bright and shiny- maybe it’s just a bird thing.

what’s not a bird thing though is going onto G-bay to find overpriced merch of him.

It’s like starting a really good show and hyper-fixating on the side character instead of the main one.

After about 20 minutes of scrolling, you finally found your holy grail.

a 15 inch hawks plush with metallic wings, now you really liked shiny things- which is why it caught your eye.

Probably just a bird thing.

It was 30 dollars though…well whatever you’ll regret this later.

now all you have to do is wait for your new shiny edition to your nest! and while waiting you don’t mind watching more-

BZZT BZZT BZZT

your phone vibrates, it’s a call from the school?

Fumikage did warn you it would get kind of crazy up at U.A.- did he get hurt?

“Is this Ms.Tokoyami?”

you hesitate, “uhm yes, is something wrong with Fumikage at the school? did he get in a fight?”

Now it was the principals turn to hesitate, “ah, no ma’am, we just need to inform you that the school was attacked by villains-“

what?

“I-is my son okay?!”

“Ma’am, please calm down-“

You immediately snap, “don’t you tell me to fucking calm down- your supposed to be the top hero school and you somehow get infiltrated by some thugs?!”

“Ma’am, please-“

You hang up, you know where Fumikage is.

So you get into your car and drive as fast as the law will let you.

You reach the school and immediately get out of your car looking for Fumikage.

You can see a group of students standing by multiple cops, and you finally spot Fumikage.

You sigh out of relief, he’s safe, he’s here, you’re here.

You start to run towards him, “Fumi!”

He instantly looks around for who called him, seeing you.

“M-mother?!”

you can here his class gasp, repeating what he said.

You reach Fumikage, your beautiful boy, and hug him tightly.

“M-mother, what are you doing here?” He says with confusion.

“Principal called to notify me, so I came straight away.”

You pull back and cup his face, “are you a okay, Fumi?”

“M-mother not infront of the class…” he whispers with embarrassment.

“Fumi, you worried me sick! Are we able to leave now? I want you home.”

“Yes mother, I just gave my statement to-“

You grab Fumikages hand and drag him to the car, “good, let’s go then.”

Fumikage hops into the car, still with his hero costume on.

“Best hero school my ass…” you whisper angrily.

“It was the villains quirk, mama.”

“Yea well I expect better from U.A.- you better have not even been near those villains!”

Fumikage looks away.

“Fumi, please tell me they kept you away from the villains.”

“Well we got separated and-“

that’s definitely a fucking email.

You put your head onto the steering wheel.

“Do you not have any hope in my ability’s?!”Fumikage angrily bursts out.

“Excuse me- you shouldn’t have even been near those villains.” You say angrily.

“I can handle myself.”

“You could’ve gotten hurt!”

“I’m training to be a hero, mother!- I can get beaten up if I have to.”

“You shouldn’t have to!”

“Well dad did didn’t he? Is that why he left?!”

Then the car goes quiet.

You don’t like talking about Tokoyamis father, you always argued with him about how hard you worked and how hard he worked- training to become a hero.

He told you he didn’t need a “loose end” on his record, he didn’t need Fumikage.

you don’t like talking about him at all.

“Fumikage, I don’t like talking about him.”

“He was a hero, he worked for that didn’t he?”

You don’t understand why Fumikage wants to put him in a good light.

“He was barely a hero, he left you Fumikage.”

Fumikage whispers, “Maybe that was the right thing to do.”

You smack the steering wheel, “You needed a father Fumi, I couldn’t do all of that by myself- I…”

He raises his voice, “Is that why you let Ryuji do that to me, because you thought I needed a father?!”

“Fumikage, I didn’t know he was like that!” You plead with him.

“You were barely even home, you barely know me!”

“watch your tone, boy.”

Fumikage immediately stops, he always hated when you were angry with him.

So angry to the point you stopped using his name, the one you gave him.

You take the car out of park, and start the drive home.

it’s quiet, you like it like that anyways.

Ryuji was nice to Fumikage when you were home.

Sometimes you wish you could be at home all the time for Fumikage.

You wish that you could know him more, you just want him to live a good life.

It was four years ago, you decided to come home early, Fumikage and Ryuji were arguing about something stupid- you forgot what it was about.

You saw Ryuji pin Fumikage against the wall and then he started screaming at him, Fumikage was terrified.

You called the police while you tried to get Ryuji off of Fumikage, they ended up tasering him.

Fumikage slept in you bed for 2 months after that.

He said the nightmares would stop when he was with you.

You try your best to avoid that hallway now.

You eventually pull into your driveway, Fumikage goes inside first, you stay in the car for a moment.

You can’t protect Fumikage from everything, no matter how hard you try.

Walking into the house, you try to open Fumikages door to apologize to him, it’s locked.

So instead you go out to the balcony in your room, you’re able to see a lake peeking out from the trees.

And it’s quiet.

You like the quiet though.

Ryuji hated it so he always talked to fill up the space.

So now when it got quiet, you could faintly hear Ryuji talking about something that was never that important.

you hate the quiet now.

You can feel the tears falling down onto the dark wood below you, your curled into yourself on the lounge chair that’s outside

you haven’t really cried in awhile, never had the time.

you feel a weight sit next to you on the chair, you assume it’s Fumikage.

“F-Fumi, m’sorry baby- ma-“

“Fumi?” An energetic voices says playfully.

that’s not Fumikage…

You look up, only to see hawks…

“What’re you doing here…” you say hesitantly, confused on why the number three hero was here.

“I was on patrol..?”

“Why’re you here…?”

“I saw that my favorite nurse was upset!” He replies happily.

You nod and wipe your face.

“So, why’re you crying?” He cocks his head to the side with curiosity.

You sigh, “it’s nothing…”

“Clearly it isn’t.”

you rub your temples, “It’s just- everything’s been piling up.”

“Yea, I understand.” He rubs your back softly.

“M’sorry, you should go back to patrol-“

“No, the world doesn’t need me for a couple minutes, but you do.” He says with a carefree smile.

You sigh, trying to control you breathing so you don’t make even more of a fool out of yourself.

“You want a hug?” He opens his arms awkwardly, almost as if he’s never actually gave someone a genuine hug.

You open your arms as well, leaning into him and taking comfort in his warmth, he smells good too.

“Man, your wings are small…” he whispers softly.

“rude.” You scoff.

“N-not in a bad way! It’s uhm…cute!”

“Don’t say a woman is cute when she’s older than you.” You say while chuckling softly.

“What if I like older women?”

“I thought you were supposed to comfort me, not flirt.” You push yourself out of the warm hug.

“Sorry- second nature for me.” He stretches, his wing go with him, almost knocking over a plant.

“Your wings are too big…” you say in a retort to his earlier comment.

“I can make them smaller for you.”

“I bet mine are way softer.” You tease.

He laughs, “wanna bet?”

“No need too.”

You turn around, your back facing him, “go on and get a feel- might be your only time to.”

Hawks laughs and shakes his head, hesitantly he takes off his gloves and brushes his fingers through your wing span.

“You’re right, they’re soft..” he says softly.

“Told ya.”

“Mine are better though!” He says with a teasing tone.

You giggle softly, hawks has already made you forget a small bit about the days events.

“Y’know when I was younger, I thought if you touched a birds wings they’d get turned on.”

“Nah, not with mutant quirks usually” hawks says while putting back on his glove, “kids are always tugging on em so…I got used to it.”

“I used to let kids touch them if they were at the hospital for a while.” You stand up from the chair.

“Are you gonna touch mine?” Hawks says with a slight jitter in his movements.

You chuckle softly and pet his wings, “yknow, you’re much cooler on TV.”

You notice his wings puff up, “You watch me on TV?”

“Yea sometimes, very cool in my opinion.”

you can see his ears turn red, his wings twitch softly, and you hear a soft high pitched sound as well..? Almost similar to a bird chirping, weird.

“I’m glad you think that.”

Then it’s silent, you try to distract yourself with your thoughts but hawks continues to talk, reminds you of Ryuji.

“Was today your off day?” He asks curiously.

“Yea, ended up being a lot more stressful than they usual are.”

Maybe you could tell him the truth.

“I heard about the U.A. situation…is your son okay?”

“He’s fine, he had to fight apparently…I don’t want that for him.” you feel the tears coming back up.

“I understand that can be stressful for you.” He pats your back, his face still sporting a soft smile, it feels like he’s still in hero mode.

“Then in the car we fought- about his dad, about some of my…untasteful choices when he was younger.”

Your rambling, hawks probably doesn’t want to hear about this anyways.

“Untastful choices?” He chuckles.

“I used to date this guy when Fumikage was about 11, His name was Ryuji…he uhm.”

Hawks waits patiently for you to continue, he’s still smiling.

“He pinned him against the wall a-and he wouldn’t stop screaming.”

You can feel the tears going down your face.

“A-and i tried to get him off of Fumikage but he just threw me against the wall t-then he went back to him.”

Hawks isn’t smiling anymore.

“I-I had to call the cops and Fumikage just…wasn’t the same obviously, we wouldn’t sleep in his own bed, he became so quiet.”

Hawks is holding your forearms, his thumbs circle your skin in a smoothing manner.

why isn’t he smiling anymore?

“oh god- I’m a terrible mother.”

“Don’t say that.”

You fall into his chest and cry, what else could you do? you can’t change what Ryuji did to your son, your baby.

“Your amazing y/n, you…your a good mom I know you are.” He says quickly.

You don’t even know hawks real name, yet here you are crying to him about what you think is your own incompetence as a parent.

“I wish I knew how to make you feel better.” He says softly, he holds you.

“You should be on patrol..”

“My job is to help, and I want to help you.”

he holds you a little tighter, he smells good.

you can hear the soft static coming from his head gear, sounds like someone’s speaking.

You don’t want him to go yet.

“Mama?” You hear Fumikage call from your door way, luckily at this angle he can’t see you snug as a bug in a pros arms.

oh god- what are you doing??

You immediately jump out of hawks embrace, he looks incredibly confused by your sudden movements.

You look around quickly, Fumikage can’t see you like this, Not with some man!

You spot a weighted blanket, you got it for Fumikage when he was struggling to sleep without you- though he said it was too heavy and cold.

You immediately push hawks down into the chair and throw the blanket over him just in time for Fumikage to walk out into your balcony.

“Mom, what are you doing?” Fumikage says confused.

You sit down onto the lounge chair, mind you hawks is right under you being smothered by a blanket.

“J-just enjoying the view!”

The two of you just stare at each-other for a moment.

“So what did you need?”

Fumikage sighs and says something under his breath.

“Y’know I don’t have super hearing Fumikage.” You try to joke with him.

“I said that I was sorry..” he looks down at his feet, he looks ashamed.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you, your already stressed enough from work and-“

“Fumi..”

“And you’re always trying your best all the time and-and I’m so sorry I wasn’t appreciative of that!” He looks up at you with tears in his eyes, it breaks your heart.

“Fumi you don’t need to apologize…”

“But I do-“

“Shh, just come here okay?” You open up your arms.

Fumikage goes into your warm embrace, putting his weight onto you.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, we both made mistakes…I’ve made more than you though.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled-“

“I still love you Fumi…I love you so, so much- and I just want you to be safe, and happy, and I want you to be better than me.”

You ramble, Fumikage listens.

You and Fumikage never really understood eachother, sometimes it was like you were both ghosts haunting the same house.

But you tried so hard to understand eachother and the only thing you both understood is the love you had for the other.

Fumikage loved you so much, and Fumikage is the reason you’re still here in the world.

Fumikage sniffles, “mama..”

You rub his back, “what is it baby?”

“Why is this blanket so bulky…”

Ah yes, you totally forgot about hawks.

“I-I uhm, no reason…” you look away.

“Is someone under-“

“How about we go get something to eat?!” You quickly change the topic.

Fumikage stops his little investigation, and nods.

“Go on downstairs, I would like to change into some comfier clothes before we go out or eat!”

Fumikage smiles softly and pitter patters down stairs.

“Y’know, the blanket isn’t half bad” you hear hawks muffle out.

“Sorry…” you peel back the blanket to see a red faced hawks, most likely from the lack of air circulation under a thick weighted blanket.

“It’s fine, glad I got to hear you both make your amends” he shoots up a thumb.

“Well, have to go get some food..we haven’t had dinner yet.” You say sheepishly, tapping your fingers together.

“You wishing I could come, mama bird?” He teases.

“No, I’m telling you to leave and never come back, bird brain.” You say sarcastically.

Hawks chuckles, his laugh is nice.

Hawks is nice.

“You need to go back on patrol, I’ve kept you long enough…”

Hawks looks away for a moment, thinking.

“Can I keep the blanket?” He says almost too quickly.

“What?”

“...can I keep the blanket? You can say no!” He quickly adds the last part.

“No, no, Fumikage doesn’t use it so- go ahead!”

“I’ll see you soon?” He says hesitantly.

You smile, “Course..”

“I’ll see you then.” He takes off into the sky, weighted blanket in hand.

You quickly run down the stairs to meet up with Fumikage, only to find him waiting outside in the already cranked car.

You hop in, “where to?”

Fumikage continues to stare at the house.

“Fumi?” You say hesitantly

“Why did I just see the number three hero fly away from our house…”

Well shit, how are you supposed to explain this one to Fumikage.

.

.

.

On the other side of town, hawks is at his own perch patrolling whilst holding on tightly to the weighted blanket.

The only thing on his mind is that it smells like you.

And when his patrol finally ends he flies home, hawks never really had blankets on his bed, always too stuffy for his wings to be comfortable.

This blanket would probably be even more stuffy since it was heavy and thick but…

He still slept with it.

He would never tell anyone that he slept like a baby that night, and the night after that, and the night after that one.

Maybe his little interest in you is worse than he originally thought…

PART FOUR: MOTHER HEN: PART FOUR

TAG LIST:

@lost-in-horrorland

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

Can you write how Geo would deal with a mc that is always sick? (Totally not cause I'm sick too)

My Remedy for your Malady. (All x Sick! MC/Reader)

Anon. First and foremost, I made you wait 5 1/2 days. I am truly, wholly sorry for this *humbly bows*. (▰︶︹︺▰)

Secondly, I decided that I'm gonna do this for all 7 of our characters, because Jess, Brit and Deryl deserve more attention. I hope you may forgive me for my lateness, and enjoy this fic nonetheless (btw get well soon if you're not already <33).

Also I know that Jess especially is shorter (literally teehee) than the others, but I'm gonna get the hang of her eventually. Same with Deryl. >:]

ALSO, you're in an established relationship with them, so that's why they have (very legal) access to your residence!

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Remedy: a medicine or treatment for a disease or injury.

Malady: a disease or ailment.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Geo was concerned when he found out you were ill.

When you didn't show up to school for the last few days, he texted you to find out why; to which you bluntly told him you felt like utter shit.

He doesn't pick up on the fact you're sick until you straight-up tell him.

Depending on what type of sick you are, he'll get the appropriate medicines/remedies and speed his way towards your home, hell, he might even skip archery, and he *never* skips archery.

Would rock up with food he knows shouldn't cause any problems or nausea for you and will probably make soup.

And you better fucking eat it.

He will feed it to you (reluctantly, but if you seriously can't do it yourself, then he'll manage).

Will ask you how the hell you fell ill anyway, and depending on your answer, he'll be either: Pissed (if you caught it from someone else), Or exasperated (if you stopped taking care of yourself or didn't equip yourself well enough to deal with the weather).

Will take care of you either way.

Will read to you in Japanese to help you sleep.

Will try to not lie near you if possible, unless absolutely needed. He does not plan on catching shit.

Will remain at your residence until you recover; unless he has classes that are either critically important and/or ones you're also in.

Will lend you his notes.

Will also take them back after a few days.

Will also just probably talk to you while you're bedridden, unless you cannot, in which case he'll simply watch you sleep, occasionally stroking your head and hair to try and comfort you.

He's trying his best, okay?

Sol will freak when he finds out you're sick.

Doesn't care what he's got on next, he's gonna go take care of you.

Will probably feel bad for not telling Hyugo anything about suddenly vanishing

, but he'll understand right?

Will spawn outside your home with: - Medicine, - Your favourite comfort food (if you can eat it without the fear of vomiting), - Probably will bring poetry and art with him, so you both have something to do (that's not him) when you're bedridden.

Will try and hold you if possible, doesn't mind if he gets your blessed germs on him.

You'll have to tell him that you'd worry for him if he fell ill, so he'll respect that.

But he will feed you. You don't have a say in that.

You're being babied now.

He's gonna make sure everything you want (and can have when sick), you'll have.

Is honestly okay with not going to any class, he'll just ask Hyugo for notes if he hasn't been MIAing.

Covers you in blankets if you've got a cold.

If you have a fever? Ice cream. >:]

Essentially tries to uplift your mood as much as humanely possible.

This guy will do anything for you. <33

Crowe will ensure that when he arrives at your home, you'll have everything you'll need.

Will cook your favourite food.

Will make you eat soup and light foods that are easy on the stomach.

Won't touch you, he doesn't want to fall ill, but will read to you.

He's got a soothing voice I just know it.

And he's 110% going to put you in a coma from how tired you feel when his voice hits just right.

Or maybe you're just fatigued because of your body waging a war against god-knows what kind of virus.

Will make you all forms of beverages to suit your illness, will also go out of his way to purchase any, after all, he's got the funding.

Will still go to classes, and takes extensive notes for you.

Will also tutor you the content if you're up for it.

Will stroke your hair if it's not sweaty, as a form of comfort.

Will make you feel as loved as possible.

Because that's what you deserve.

Brittney will be appalled.

How did you get sick? More importantly...who got you sick?

She's gonna yell at them.

Or fight them.

Maybe both.

Will buy a bunch of goodies for the both of you.

She can't cook for shit, so she'll just get takeout as food and order a fuckton of cough drops and Panadol.

You're both gonna be painting each others' nails.

And spilling gossip. Oh my god, she always had gossip.

Will give you notes to subjects that are majors, or ones you share.

Other than that can't offer much.

Will sit away from you to not get sick, but she'll 110% be supporting you emotionally.

Will probably give you a massage when you get better.

Idk she gives the vibe that she would.

Is the most aggressively supportive girlfriend ever.

She only wants you to recover ASAP, and to feel as content as someone who's sick can be. <333

Jess will be focused solely on you recovering as swiftly as humanely possible.

Is upset when she finds out you're fallen ill.

She'll drive to her home, grab the best shit she has and drives to your home.

Stays with you for days on end.

You've become her priority now, after all.

Jess is a very devoted (and lonely) girl, what can I say.

Will try and comfort you via reading to you, or listening to you talk about literally anything.

She just loves your company and you. Poor girl's been neglected her whole life.

She'll try her hardest to take care of you, and she does a very good job. (Ask Brittney teehee)

You're more than glad to have her.

And she to have you.

Hyugo will be astounded.

You? Got sick?

Why?

Did someone make you sick???? (if so teehee someone's getting food poisoning~)

He's at your home, with everything.

Literally everything.

Blankets, movies, games, medicine, puns, your favourite food and whatever else he deems necessary.

Will hug you if you're not aggressively sneezing/coughing.

Will watch movies with you on the couch with you lying on his plush fucking thighs.

Says the most stupid shit in Japanese (such as teaching you how to hide a body) and making it sound like flirting.

Tells you jokes and puns to make you feel better, until you laugh too hard that is and almost die.

Will make food for you.

Will ramble on about random shit to you, or listen to you talk (if you can).

Literally just seeing you content is more than enough for him.

Deryl will be SHOOKETH.

He will sprint to your fucking house. He doesn't care.

You're his only priority now.

Will magically appear at your home, and immediately hugs you.

You can be fucking dying, he doesn't care.

You're getting squashed.

Will be asking if you're okay 24/7

Until he realises he forgot to bring food.

Then he runs to get it, along with tablets, Panadol, all that jazz.

Like RUNS.

HE WILL RUN.

HE IS A FAST MOTHERFUCKER.

FAST!!!!!

Then he gets tired, so by the time he gets to the store, gets the food (and the 'goods'), he's gonna just call a fucking cab and crash at your place. (he forgot takeout existed lol)

He doesn't mind, and frankly, neither do you. The food and snacks was awesome (well, what you could eat anyway).

Will try his absolute best to take care of you, but often gets carried away with his energy. Often talks and rambles to you while you happily lay in bed next to him and listen.

Will call Geo or Jess for how to make a warm soup to feed you.

Then it becomes 'we've got Masterchefs at home'.

Shit goes crazy when Deryl's around tbh.

And you're more than happy to enjoy the ride (in more ways than one ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)).

[abibliophobiaa]

right where you left me;

chapter two: can i be close to you?

summary: steve harrington is unlucky when it comes to matters of the heart. for years he’s been in love with his best friend, but circumstances have made it impossible for him to make his feelings known. fate seems to have other plans, when you ask him to help you escape your wedding day, with nothing but his hand to hold and a car to drive off in. you suddenly find yourself headed back to hawkins, back to the place that feels so unfamiliar now — back to the place where you first fell in love.

warnings: 18+; smut in later chapters; alcohol mentions; class differences; financial insecurities; purposeful vignette-like/short scenes to cover a larger span of time in this mini-series (11k words).

steve harrington x f!inexperienced!reader || best friends to lovers, mutual pining, second chance romance with the town handyman who lives in a cabin in the woods.

masterlist | previous chapter

——

Those first few days pass in a blur.

You wake, often in Steve’s arms, your bodies coming together like moths to a flame. Like magnets. Neither of you says anything on the matter, merely brushing it off as the typical nature of your friendship.

He readies for the day, you watch him dress and go, and you take it upon yourself to clean up around the cabin in the woods. It’s odd, being that it’s the first time in a few years you have responsibilities like this. If you can call them that. Really, you only want to feel like you’re contributing something to the place you’re currently staying at.

Steve’s been kind enough to uproot his life for you, so it’s the least you can do. And when he comes home later in the evening, he cooks and you sit on the kitchen countertops, talking to him about his day. Soaking up the fact you can spend all this time with him now, without the societal pressures, parties, and social events to weigh you down.

About a week in you decide you want to contribute something. A fact which Steve laughs at, reminding you, “If you’ve forgotten, I want you here. Don’t feel like you need to do that.”

Both of you walk side by side on the sidewalk, him in a sweater and jeans, and you in a pair of newly purchased jeans and a dark knitted sweater. Wind prickles against your cheeks, the puffer vest you’re wearing doing very little to block out the cold. Leaves crunch as you walk, dancing along the streets as people pass on by, kicking them up as they go.

The Hideout comes into view, dim lighting highlighting the ‘Now Hiring’ posted hanging in one of the windows. “It’s like the universe is sending me a sign!” You giggle brightly, hand wrapping around Steve’s wrist like a bracelet, dragging him into the restaurant behind you.

It’s different than you remember. Still that darker interior — all wooden floors, wooden bar, wooden walls. Against the side wall is a sprawling bar top, with steel stools full of patrons sipping on drinks. There are some bent low in conversation, others looking like they’re on first dates, all blushing cheeks and bashful smiles. Others are cheering, wearing jerseys of whatever team they support, likely coming home from a football game.

The dining area is different than you remember too. Wooden chairs around wooden tables, beautiful lighting hanging from above, the room cast in an ethereal glow. From where you're standing you can see families and couples, friend groups and bachelorette celebrations occupying the spaces. Smiling servers and wait staff weave in and out of the aisles, before your gaze swivels to the hostess at the front booth, asking how many in your party.

“Two, please!” you say, leaning into Steve’s shoulder excitedly, giving his hand a squeeze as the woman leads you toward a table near the back of the restaurant, your mind still whirling a bit at how successful Eddie’s place has become. Once seated, you whisper, “This restaurant is insane. Can’t believe this is the same bar.”

Steve nods. “He really did a great job with the place —”

“Says the guy who put together a good chunk of the furniture here,” Eddie teases, placing menus on the table in front of you both. “Fancy seeing you two here. Thought you’d still be holed up in the love shack. Rob's going crazy.”

“I could only take off a few days for the wedding,” Steve reminds him, shoving the older man lightly. “We’re seeing her tomorrow, if you must know.”

“Good, because she’s been parked on my couch the past few nights and Abi and I haven’t had any alone time,” Eddie says with a grumble, but you know there’s no malice there. “Get whatever you want — it’s on the house. My ‘welcome back to Hawkins treat.’”

Eddie moves to leave, but you stop him with a hasty, “The door. It says you’re hiring.”

The man in question turns back around, arms crossing over his chest. His eyes travel up and down your form, a question burgeoning in his gaze, “Yeah, I’m in need of waitresses for the busy season. You keep your tips. Why? Do you need a job?”

You swallow. “I don’t want to mooch off of Steve the whole time I’m here. And I don’t really know what I want to do long term, but I figure I need money to do anything. So…yeah?”

“Then you’re hired.”

Steve grins, but you shake your head. “No, no. I don’t want you to just give me a job. I want an interview, just like anyone else.”

“Okay…” Eddie glances Steve’s way briefly. His best friend only shrugs. “Do you have any customer service experience?”

“I worked at a clothing store in Starcourt?” Before it burned down, obviously.

“How long was that for?” Eddie asks, pulling out a free chair and settling in front of you.

“Few months,” you tell him, and then blurt out, “I also babysat for the Sinclair’s for a bit!”

“You babysat the younger Sinclair?”

“Yeah,” you say, a little quieter this time, not quite sure what he’s getting at.

Erica had been nothing but lovely to you in all the time you babysat her; if not quite a bit sarcastic and oftentimes blunt, but given you’ve spent years in the company of Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson, it was never anything you couldn’t handle.

“And survived?” Eddie asks.

Steve nods rapidly. “She —”

“Quiet, she’s interviewing.” Eddie raises a hand to silence Steve.

“I…survived…” Your words are quiet, and Eddie leans backward against the frame of the chair, contemplative.

“Abi makes the schedule on Sunday usually.” Tomorrow, then. “I’ll ask her to put you on for Monday, and then we’ll go from there. How does that sound?”

You swallow, a little miffed, brows knit high on your forehead. “That’s…that’s great. Yeah. Monday is good.”

He claps you on the shoulder and ruffles Steve’s hair, grinning at a server that passes by as he shoves his chair back into place with a loud screech against wooden floors. And then he’s off, leaving you to stare across the table at Steve, trying to hide the smile that creeps along your lips at the realization of what just happened seconds ago.

“So…” Steve takes a sip of his drink, grinning ruefully, “that happened. How are you feeling? First job in a few years, yeah?”

“I…I have a job.” Steve bursts out laughing as you nearly topple over the table in pursuit of wrapping your arms around his next. “I have a job!”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he chuckles, sliding a hand over the small of your back, grinning into your cheek. “I'm so proud of you. Think we should order a bottle of wine and celebrate a bit?”

That’s exactly what you end up doing.

——

In the mornings, you and Steve share coffee and breakfast. You’ll take turns cooking. Some days he’ll wake you with coffee in bed, Garfield lounging across your thighs. Others, he’ll stumble into the kitchen, eyes bleary and in search of the coffee pot, while chocolate pancakes cook on the stove.

Those mornings are your favorites, because you’ll often hear him murmuring to himself how much he loves you — and you try to deflect that feeling that crawls up from deep within you, the part of you that craves for him to mean it in the sense that he’s in love with you.

Later, he parts for work and you ready yourself for shifts at Eddie’s restaurant. Which is a learning curve, to say the least. Abi, Eddie’s soon-to-be wife, only laughs as you drop another plate filled with water cups in the back, landing on your butt in the process. A huff pours out of you, just as some of the cooks grin your way, offering condolences for your likely bruised tailbone, and Eddie’s head pops into view, all the dark curls that resist staying put in an elastic spilling around his face. He’s grinning but you’re frustrated, on day seven of utterly making a mess of things.

“It’s really not that bad,” Abi reassures you later that afternoon, your apron draped over your shoulder, punched out for the day. There’s a glass of wine in front of you, but you haven’t really had any of it. “It takes time. You’ll get it.”

“It shouldn’t be this hard.”

And yet it is. For years you’ve lived a life of luxury, shuttered away from society. Work was some lofty idea, left behind after you fled Hawkins. You want to pick up on things, want to be good at them, to make Steve proud. Yet you still struggle, still find yourself doubting your capabilities, wondering what it is Eddie saw in you when he hired you.

That night, Steve and you sit around the coffee table in his living room. You’re wearing a pair of cozy sweatpants and an equally comfortable hoodie and he’s there in that yellow sweater of his you told him to never get rid of. The one that has some holes in it now around the edges, but looks great on him all the same. A puzzle rests on the table in front of you both, the pieces scattered all around the wooden surface. Garfield snoozes on Steve’s lap, curled up onto a tight ball, his purring mixing with the crackling of the burning fire mere feet away.

“I’m proud of you,” Steve says, sipping at the beer on a coaster in front of him. The label is long scratched off, condensation dribbling down in little rivulets against the glass. Confusion pricking, your head tips to the side. “Eddie says you’re doing well at the Hideout.”

“He’s lying to you,” you deadpan, pushing another edge piece into place. “I’m struggling. But Abi says it just takes time. It’s definitely not like working at my old clothing store over at Starcourt.”

An edge of darkness flitters across Steve’s features at the mere mention. It shudders and ripples in the spaces between the two of you. Neither really talks about it all that much, especially now that he and you both had been in extensive therapy for it. And even then, the remembrance stings a bit. The reminder of what that day meant for your friend group. Hadn't then at all really to your detriments, when everything happened as it had. Instead you’d both pushed it away and hopped into Steve’s car some days later, with nothing but a map and some money pooled between the two of you.

But it had been enough. It had been everything. The road. The warmth of summer. The escape. The boy.

Steve’s not a boy now. Hasn’t been for a while, you realize, sitting there and peering into those hazel eyes that almost look like molten honey when the fire dances within their swirling depths. Your fingers reach over and twine with his. Just as they have countless other times, just as they always do. Seeking him. Craving the nearness of him. Comforting him, but also yourself.

A cheek of his twitches. Curls a bit with the softest of smiles. Steve Harrington’s smiles are your favorite. Have always been. They’re the kind that a picture can’t capture, an artist can’t form the likeness of. The only way to contain them is to see them, to bottle them up, to store them away in your heart. Sometimes, when you were younger, you imagined they were special. Meant only for you.

Still do now, if you’re being honest with yourself.

“Nothing is quite like working at Starcourt,” he teases, diverting to humor. You wince a bit at it, fingers around his twitching lightly. “Not everyday someone gets possessed, and you get abducted by Russians, huh? Bet the Hideout will feel like a walk in the park soon in comparison.”

“I hope so,” you mutter, more to yourself than anyone else. “I just don’t want to sit around while I’m staying here. Maybe I’ll…start saving up for my own place? For the time being, at least.”

“Or you could just stay here,” Steve says evenly, free hand stroking over Garfield’s fuzzy head, “I did say you could stay as long as you like. I didn’t just say that to say it. I like having you here. It feels…normal. It feels good. Really good.”

There’s a little rasp to his voice. A brokenness that clings to the edges of his speech. Your fingers tighten further, crawling up onto your knees to settle down at his side, shoulder bumping his as you reach over to place another puzzle piece down in the proper position. He leans his head against your shoulder, forehead shaking back and forth against the fabric of your clothing, and you just know he’s smiling without even seeing his face.

“Okay, okay. But the moment you get sick of me I’m giving you permission to kick me out —”

“Won’t happen,” he assures you, chuckling a bit.

“How can you be so sure?”

“For one, I’ve known you for years already. You clean up after yourself. You’re crazy loud, but we match each other in that, so it’s fine. You’re not bad to share a bed with — although you go all starfish on me in your sleep —”

“I do not!” you exclaim shrilly, cheeks burning up at the notion.

“You do,” he laughs, dragging you closer to him with an arm around your shoulders, “woke up with your drool on my chest the other day.”

“Yeah, because you’re a human furnace!”

“Doesn’t seem like you mind, seeing as you end up on top of m —” He pauses, the puzzle piece you playfully threw at him bouncing off of his cheek and onto the floor with a clatter. Garfield scampers off to eat, likely rolling his eyes at your antics as he goes, the sound of his collar bell jingling drowning out the silence in the room. “You just threw a puzzle piece at me.”

“I did just throw a puzzle piece at you,” you repeat slowly, bursting out into loud, shrieking laughter as Steve rolls you over onto the blankets scattered beneath him on the floor, body caging yours in place.

His fingers twitch along your sides, your body writhing and rolling beneath him, a frantic jostle of your stomach that has his face crashing into your shoulder, his smile warm against the skin of your collarbone.

You’re children again, you think, as your fingers slip under his sweater and pinch at his sides, earning a loud howl from the man. “Geez, not the pinchy fingers.”

“Mercy?”

“Mercy,” he pleads, his fingers pinning your hands at your sides, chest rising and falling rapidly in a direct mirror to your own.

“You look different from this angle.”

As in, your blood heats with it. Heart clangs at the proximity of your hips in relation to his. The way your mind itches and races to know what he’d feel like if he lowered himself a bit, the cradle of your thighs a home to him. He’s breathing heavy, his laughter joyful on your ears, eyes dark as they clash with yours.

“Different how?”

“Not a bad ‘different.’”

Not at all. He looks older now — is older now. His clothes fit differently now. He’s always been fit from basketball and baseball throughout the years. But he fills out his shirts and sweaters differently now. His chest broader, the stitching on his sweater hugging his biceps as they ripple around you — as you’ve seen them in the days since you’ve come back to Hawkins. Working as a carpenter seems to have had its benefits, and you try to not dwell on the fact you’re reaping them now.

His hazel eyes slide over your form searchingly. His chest still rising and falling as your fingers pinch in the yellow sleeve of his sweater, pulling at a thread that spills free from a stitched seam. The sudden shift of your form has your back flaring, right in the middle of your shoulder blades, a wince crossing your features before you can mask it. Worriedly, Steve rolls over onto his side, asking, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

No. Never. “No. Just…not used to carrying as much as I have the past few days, it seems. Pretty sad, isn’t it?”

He rolls his eyes at your self-deprecating remark. Sits up against the couch so his back is against it and pats the ground between his thighs. “Come here.”

“What…?”

“Come here,” he repeats, a little impatiently.

You return his eye roll with one of your own, clambering up and off the ground and into the space between his thighs. There’s little time to worry about the proximity of your spine to the muscular wall of his chest before his fingers are pressing into the curves of your shoulders, rubbing at the tensely corded muscles there.

It’s easy to relax like this. Can’t really think of a time when you last felt so relaxed. Usually you’re under the judgemental stares of dozens of eyes. Those who think they know you, understand you, and yet don’t. Defined by a name you had no name of being born to. It was only by circumstance. But you’ve always felt like yourself around Steve. No need to put on airs, to hold yourself to a certain standard, to lift your head a certain way or say all the right things.

He’s only ever wanted the fullest version of yourself. Probably has been one of the only people to ever understand you in the way you wished others did as well. For years you wondered if people knew you, really knew you, they wouldn’t like what they saw. But sitting here, in this cabin, with this man? You realize you don’t even care. Throw away the rest of the world, and leave Steve behind, and you’d have everything you ever wanted.

“Does this hurt?” he asks, thumb swiping along the top of your spine, right at the dip below your skull, before swiping in an arch along each curve of your shoulders. “I’ll stop if it does.”

“N-no,” you sigh, languid against his frame. “Although, I’m feeling mildly jealous of all those who may have benefited from a massage by Steve Harrington.”

A chuckle rumbles against your back. “Only you, really. In case you forgot, Eddie got me a cat to keep me company.”

A part of you, a very selfish part, rejoices inwardly over his confession. A little victory dance, sending giddy sparks throughout your bloodstream. That giddiness burns molten as Steve pushes the neck of your oversized hoodie down a bit, fingers wrapping around the fullness of your shoulder, tips of them dipping below your collarbone.

It’s a not at all sensual touch — and yet it has heat pooling between your thighs, has you biting back a quiet moan that inches up your throat, reminding you of the mere fact that it’s been a couple of years since being with anyone sexually coupled with the fact you’ve spent the past few days pressed up against the only one you’ve ever been in love with at night.

That’s all it is. The only thing that has you melting further against him, humming pleasantly as elusive sleep tugs you closer and closer into its comforting embrace. After a while, you’re not sure how long really, Steve’s arms start to slide around your waist, his chin against your shoulder, the sound of his comforting breathing a welcoming metronome against your ear. Your fingers reach up and slide into the holes of his sweater, brushing along the dark hairs you know line his forearms, lulling you and him into further rest. To anyone else, you know what the scene looks like: two people, intimately knowing one another, cuddling. Broken away from the rest of the world and into one of their own. To you, you know it’s another normal afternoon with the man.

And yet, your eyes lock with the dying embers crackling in the fireplace, wondering if it could ever be different. If only one of you were brave enough to broach the conversation, to see if the feelings are reciprocated, if now is finally the time to take a chance. A leap. To dare to dream a little. A silly, childhood dream that seems so insurmountable. Still, you crave it more than anything else.

You breathe in deeply, Steve’s arms tightening around your waist. His heavy, rhythmic breathing lets you know he’s fallen asleep now. Your fingers stroke along his arm again, a comfort to him but also you, and you finally close your eyes.

You rest, that question in your mind dying with the firelight.

——

“Monster Mash” blares from a speaker somewhere in the distance. Drowns out the chatter of those downstairs as you put on the finishing touches of yours, El’s and Max’s Halloween costume.

“Wednesday Addams again?” Max muses, pointing to the costume you managed to put together in a couple of hours, not knowing until the last minute you were going to a party to begin with. You’d also been Wednesday the last time you’d been living in Hawkins for the holiday.

You’re presently smudging red lines near the bottom of her jaw, adding little droplets of blood when and where needed. El is beside her, looking very much like a mummy.

“Hey?” Steve appears in the doorway. The hottest Danny Zuko you’d ever seen. You’d never admit that, though. “I don’t mean to interrupt but, uh —”

“Just finishing up,” you tell him softly, smiling appreciatively at the way his eyes roam your form swathed in black, “we’ll be down in a minute.”

Steve smiles and jogs down the stairs, leaving you standing in the bathroom once more with the girls, chewing on your bottom lip and likely smudging the dark lipstick you’d slapped on.

“I guess some things never change,” Max adds, beaming mischievously when your fingers stutter over her jaw, “still pining over Harrington.”

“I do not pine!”

“You pine,” Max giggles, blue eyes sparkling in her mirth as they glances to El for support, “She pines, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah,” El mutters, a bit more shyly than her best friend, “you pine.”

“Well I didn’t take Max Mayfield and El Hopper to be gossips,” you snark, dabbing a little red lipstick on Max’s pouty lips, voice taking on a higher pitch.

“It’s been, what? Almost ten years of you pining after him?” Max wiggles her shoulders, smirking when you glare at her.

“You were practically an infant then,” you balk, cheeks burning along with your chest, “not even in Hawkins.”

“Yeah…but…” El begins, tucking a hair behind her ears, “it’s kind of…obvious?”

“You two are lucky you’re my favorites of the children.” Though now, with them graduating this year, it feels weird to call them that.

“He pines too,” Max adds. “Right?”

El grins. “Definitely.”

“Is that so…?” You grin, a little rueful, hope blooming in your chest. “Tell me m —”

“Well look at this little band of creepy folk,” Argyle drawls from the doorway, shiny hair falling down around him in a halo, his Michael Myers mask dangling from his hand. “Don’t wanna interrupt this little gathering, but you know…”

——

As the Halloween buzz dies down around work and town, the frigid streets become full of the changing seasons. Leaves fall everywhere you go. Bursts of orange, yellow, red and gold swirl around busy side streets, packed with those investigating local farmer’s markets and slipping in and out of family owned businesses to purchase gifts to get ahead of the holiday season.

The Hideout becomes busier in those weeks. Countless patrons fill your stations, back screaming and head spinning by the time you end your shifts. That day in particular, you stand behind the bar with Abi, chugging down a glass of water she poured you before stripping your apron from around your hips.

“Did well in tips, it looks like,” she points out, gesturing to the wad of cash you promptly stuff into the pocket of your jeans. “Told you you’d get better.”

It also helps that you had multiple larger parties that evening, all of which were more than happy to pay a little extra once they’d gotten a second and third round of beer in them. Though you didn’t really appreciate the way one in particular had slipped his phone number, writing ‘for a good time call.’ You’d chucked that into the garbage with a huff, making sure to toss a wide grin over your shoulder as they later slipped out of the restaurant and he waggled his fingers near his ear in the shape of a telephone, as though you were going to run home and reach out.

“I told Steve I was going to make us dinner since he’s working late on a job, so I’m going to head out.” You huff out a breath, staring up at the clock that reads seven. “Though I think I’m going to need to grab caffeine. I don’t think I sat down once today.”

“Get out of here!” Eddie shouts, sneaking over to loop an arm around Abi’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to her temple. Something like longing bubbles up in your stomach at the sight, the craving for what they have simmering with it. “Or else you’re fired. You’ve worked late every day this week. If you get sick, that’s on you.”

“Fine!” Your hands wave in front of you in defeat, waving to the two of them as you slip out the front doors of the restaurant and onto the sidewalk.

At this time of evening, those wandering the streets are quieter. Bags full of goodies from their excursions. You tug your jacket tighter to yourself as you slip on by, waving to those who have started to become normal faces once more over the weeks in Hawkins. They wave back, grinning like they used to. Greeting you like you hadn’t been gone for three years.

It's strange to think of being gone now.

Strange to think of leaving again.

You find you don’t want to leave again.

And fortunately, no one from home has tried to make an effort to bring you back to the city kicking and screaming. Part of that is by design — leaving no way for them to contact you in the first place. No one knows you’re staying with Steve. No one really even knows where Steve is these days, given he’s not been in contact with his family since they left in 1986 as it is.

You want to keep it that way.

Smiling to yourself, you slip in through the front door of Hawkin’s Brew, a little family run coffee shop that sits a few doors down from your job, smelling like cinnamon and spices, and the freshly brewed coffee you can see percolating over the countertop.

A new barista lifts her head up over the counter. All wavy blonde hair that reminds you of a mermaid and sparkling green eyes around a pair of thick lashes anyone would die for. Gorgeous, she’s absolutely gorgeous and you definitely would have remembered her face if she’d been there before.

“Hiya!” she greets, beaming widely, revealing a glowing set of white teeth that flash in your vision. “You look confused. My mom, Mary Jo, is usually here with my dad. But mom wasn’t feeling well, and I’d finished up at the preschool, so I’m here to help. I don’t think I’ve seen you around. I’m Lucy!”

You offer your name and a soft ‘hi,’ still a little startled by the exuberant greeting. “Nice to meet you, Lucy. Sorry to hear about Mary Jo. I hope she starts to feel better soon.”

Lucy leans her elbow against the counter, and you can’t help but admire the cream colored chunky knit sweater she’s wearing with a flowing skirt to finish off the look. It looks effortless on her.

“What can I get you today?”

“A hot coffee, cream two sugars please,” you tell her, and she gets to work behind the counter.

Out of the corner of your eye you notice Steve’s truck he uses for work, the back full of leftover lumber.

“Oh, Steve’s here?” Lucy says, sounding a little faraway. Contrast to the ball of excitement she’s been since you walked in. “You know, he’s a confusing one, that guy.”

“Is he?” You laugh, watching as he rummages around his front passenger seat.

“Ever since the earthquake, he’s been giving up so much of himself. Charity, taking up the basketball team at the high school, helping out around town. Did you know he helped my parents build a shed last summer? By hand?” Her voice trails off, and that smile of hers grows once more, like she’s stuck in a far off memory. “And he’s handsome. Single. Yet he doesn’t date. Not really. It’s so…strange? But whoever he marries — they’re gonna be a lucky one.”

“Yeah…” Your brows furrow at her words.

Steve, your Steve, is something of a hero to these people. He’s your hero too, but it twinges in your chest hearing it from someone else. For so long he’d been yours, but now, it seems, he’s needed around here. Admired. Loved. And you’ve missed so much of it in running away. Time you’ll never get back.

He’s changed. You just never realized how much. An ache builds in your heart, wondering if maybe you’re too different now from who you both were years ago.

The man in question hops out of the vehicle, fingers carding through his hair as he gazes into the coffee shop, immediately lighting up when he sees you.

“Do you know him?” Lucy asks, voice raising in pitch as she hands you your coffee and you toss your bills onto the counter.

“Yeah,” you say, sipping at the coffee, “he’s been my best friend for years. I’m staying with him for the time being, actually.”

“Oh!” Lucy perks up, chewing her bottom lip. “So you’re the one he’s so —”

As your mouth opens to ask what Lucy means, Steve walks in. He immediately commands the attention of the shop, both yours and Lucy’s stares drawn to him as he slides an arm around your waist and tugs you against his side, oblivious to what he’s interrupted.

“I was going to grab you some coffee,” he says, fingers squeezing a bit at your side. He notices Lucy then. “Hey, Luce.”

Luce.

Familiar.

Jealousy burns. You try to tamper it down, to pretend the unspoken words between them don’t matter to you. But there are a thousand new questions that burn in your mind, with no words or standing to ask them.

Lucy waves in greeting, those pretty green eyes of hers glimmering in the moonlight spilling in through the front windows of the shop. “Always good to see you, Steve.”

“You too,” he agrees, head lowering closer to yours as he then asks, “Ready to head out?”

He’s leading you to the door, and you spare a glance over your shoulder to the woman you’ve just met moments ago. There’s a look you can’t quite place on her features, a furrow of her brows, a slight downturn to her softly parted lips.

You wave your goodbye, and try to push all of whatever that might have been into the depths of your mind.

——

Steve tosses and turns behind you. A fitful rest that has you rolling over onto your side, fingers brushing along the clenched planes of his cheeks. You can practically hear his molars smashing against one another, can feel the rapid thump of his heart in his chest as your fingers splay against his sternum.

At the touch, his face softens in the slightest. A low moan pours from him, a whine of ‘no, don’t’ cleaving your heart right down the middle.

“Steve?” It’s a whisper. A plea for him to come back to you in the waking world. He reaches out in his sleep and clutches at your tee shirt, clutching the fabric tight. Another whine. A whimper of a cry. “Steve, I’m here. I’m here.”

Sweat pools along his skin, despite the chill in the air. The tips of your fingers press to his forehead, running along the wrinkles forming high up on the skin there. His name is a whisper over and over again on your lips, a soft beckoning into wherever his dreams have taken him — a tether for him to grip onto, if only so you can reel him back in.

You’re no stranger to nightmares. They plague you, too. Dark, weaving things that sneak into your mind at night, tendrils clinging to the innermost workings of your mind. That day at the mall, watching as that monster loomed, dark and imposing in a colorful explosion of light. Billy, being ripped into over and over again. The spray of black blood, the cries of Max. The moments that came after, where Steve practically demanded an EMT to look over your ribs, despite the fact there was nothing one could do if they were broken anyway. And then there had been those images on the news — of classmates fallen to Vecna. Memories of the splintered down, the gaping holes in the earth, the spaces where many had disappeared into. Endless faces of the lost, declared dead or missing.

So much turmoil. More than some kids and teenagers were ever meant to see in a lifetime.

“Let go!” Steve shouts into the night, rolling over again so his back faces you.

“Steve,” you whisper, running a hand along his spine, “it’s me. Come back to me. I’m here.”

He rolls over again and his eyes open, locking on your features. Broad palms come up to cup your face, forehead descending upon yours. He mutters your name a little brokenly, moving to press his head into the space beneath your chin, arms looping low around your waist.

“I’m here, Steve,” you remind him.

There for one another, as you’ve always been.

In a world where people come and go, where you can’t rely on anyone, he is your rock and you are his.

“Shhh.” Your fingers thread into his hair, smoothing the messiness left in the wake of his endless tossing and turning. His breathing tapers off. Slows. Starts to deepen. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

But you fear the day he may no longer need you.

——

Steve’s…liked by most. Sought after. Desired. He’s popular, in a way that you’ll never be. With his friends, with his teachers, with women. Though he was your first kiss, you’re not even delusional enough to believe he’s only saving his lips for you.

He doesn’t do relationships often. He goes on dates and you watch him from afar. Can see the glow of his bedroom window, the hurt that burns like a knife when he sneaks a girl in while his parents are gone. Your curtains always shut when they kiss, when things start to feel like a betrayal to the foolish unrequited feelings you harbor.

It becomes a thing. Wishing and wanting your best friend as he loves everyone else around you.

Luckily, they’re always short dalliances. Flings. Dates that lead nowhere. And even though it hurts, there’s some comfort in the fact these things never last long.

That is, until Nancy Wheeler steps in. And you make yourself scarce. She’s smart and lovely and beautiful. She’s everything you could ever want for Steve — and she’s not you.

Just like everyone else he sneaks into his bedroom.

Because why would Steve Harrington ever look your way like he does theirs?

And therein lies the problem.

——

A month. You’ve been in town nearly a month and things are more or less exactly as they’ve always been. Platonic and full of yearning. At least, on his part. He’s not quite sure what to make of your feelings lately — and he’s never been one to push the envelope with you.

He needs a sign. A sign from up above or something just to show him that all his efforts have not been in vain.

It comes that afternoon. Sweat pools along his chest and stomach. Along his back as it ripples with each swing of the ax, splitting piece of wood after piece of wood. The plaid shirt he wears is long unbuttoned, stomach fully on display as he pauses a moment to reach down and sip some of his water set on a wooden stool nearby.

Thwack.

Thwack.

Thwack.

He’s so caught up in the monotony of the task, the methodical way he swings down and splits the wood, that he fails to hear your arrival. Only notices your form out of the corner of his eye, hiding behind a tree.

Or, at least, it looks like you think you’re hidden.

He can see the way your chest rises and falls rapidly, your fingers covering your heart, like you’re terrified he’ll hear it. The boots on your feet are pinched tight together, likely having stopped abruptly once you noticed you could potentially be caught.

And there’s that bottom lip of yours, tucked between your teeth. Biting back any noises that might slip out.

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes trail along his abdomen. How they linger on the newer muscles there, hewn by countless hours spent working as a carpenter. You look downright guilty — like a child with their hand caught in the cookie jar.

He adores it.

“I don’t mind if I have an audience, you know?” He muses, grin growing wider as you stumble a bit in the leafy pile at your feet.

His amusement grows as you tilt your head up to the sky, as if searching for something. Unfortunately for you, it’s a cloudy day, and there is nothing to see up above other than an endless gray sea.

“Steve…” you warn, still not meeting his eyes.

You’ve always been endearing. Sweet, in a way he finds adorable. And this sudden shyness when you’re typically so sure? It reminds him of those moments when he first kissed you, all those years ago. Your heart was like a hummingbird’s wings against his chest that evening, fingers trembling against him, unsure of what to do with yourself.

“Here,” he chuckles, walking over to curl a hand around your wrist and putting you out of your misery. He walks you over to where he’s splitting wood, “wanna try?”

“I mean, sure. How hard could it be?” you tease, back stiffening as he slips in behind you, sweat-slicked skin pressing against the curve of your spine before relaxing into him.

He’s already placed a new log on the block, the rest of his split pieces lying on a rack near the side of his home. Wide palms come to wrap around your hands, sliding them into place on the handle of the ax. One near the top for grip, another near the bottom for powering through the stroke. “Grip it nice and tight. Both hands.”

“Okay, like this?” you ask, looking over your shoulder at him, and his breath immediately hitches. Throat cleaning, he gives your shoulder a quick squeeze and steps back a little.

“Spread your legs a little. Shoulder width apart. Yeah — just like that.”

You’re a little sheepish as he steps over to the side, trying to put enough distance between you and him to feel safe enough. A cold breath puffs out of his lungs, the cloud billowing in the air before him as you glance down at where your hands are firmly grasping the handle, deep breaths to center yourself echoing in the forest.

“Now you’re going to pick a point on the wood and focus on it, raise the ax and strike through, focusing on that spot.”

“Sounds easy enough,” you nervously murmur, doing exactly as he instructed, the ax rising above your head.

As you swing downward, the ax wedges into the wood, and you stumble to the ground, kicking up leaves as your bottom slams against the forest floor. Steve stumbles forward to check if you’re okay, but when your sides start trembling with uncontrollable laughter, his face breaks out into a grin.

He loves you, and he aches with it. More — now that you’re living with him.

“Guess you don’t want me helping you on any jobs, huh?”

A couple days later, however, you do exactly that.

Mr. Gerry Jones is an older man in town, and in desperate need of a new paint job for his living room before he tries to sell his home. Steve agreed to help weeks ago, and when his partner comes down with the flu, decides to ask you if you want to come along. He finds you laying on the couch that morning with a book, and he hardly expects you to say yes with the amount of hours you’ve been working at the Hideout, but you quickly jump to attention with a nearly shouted ‘yes.’

Now you sit beside him on the floor, admiring the freshly painted wall, taking a moment to breathe before starting the next one. You’re wearing a pair of overalls, a ratty old tee shirt tied up beneath, revealing the curve of your side, a patch of skin that Steve’s been trying to not stare at for the past few hours.

His heart clenches as your head tips over your shoulder, a little splatter of olive colored paint across your cheek. Reaching out, he cups your cheek and wipes it away, warming as you lean a bit into his touch.

Neither of you dares to acknowledge the tension burning in the room. The way it feels like time seems to slow to a halt when you’re there, shuffling up onto your feet, moving over to the next wall. Steve only talks. Begins prattling on about anything and everything, trying to keep himself distracted from the feeling swirling in his gut — the desire that has only grown every day to see what might happen if he just dared to try. To close the gap between your lips and put to bed all the questions.

But he doesn’t. Instead he gazes ahead, mouth dropping open when he asks about what your relationship with Clark was like — in what feels like an attempt to torture himself — and you utter that you’d never really done anything with him.

“Or anyone…for that matter,” you add slowly, your bottom lip pushing between your teeth, voice a little quiet.

“Like…?”

“I’m not a virgin, Steve,” you bark out, eyes rolling a bit in your skull. “But I’ve really only been with one guy. And it wasn’t even good or anything.”

“You’re joking.”

“Steve.”

“I’m not making fun. I’m just…”

“Shocked at how pathetic I am?” you drawl, taking a step backward. Away from him.

“No — I just —”

“It’s not like the movies either. All of the explosions and fireworks.” You frown, and Steve grimaces at your words. At the sadness lining your features. “I just — I don’t know. It wasn’t like how you’d always talked about it. We barely even kissed during it and I didn’t…”

“Honey…” he sighs, taking a step forward. “Clearly, he wasn’t the right guy. The right guy would have made it extra special, because you’re special, and definitely would have made sure you finished before he did. And I’m sorry but he didn’t deserve you, because you deserve all the explosions and fireworks.”

“Yeah?” You sound so hopeful, eyes a little narrowed, mouth parting softly.

“I mean…hypothetically…” he steps a little closer.

He catches your slow swallow. The way your chest heaves on a breath, eyes trailing his form. Heat burns in the atmosphere as your eyes narrow a bit, staring at him like you had in the woods. Appreciatively, and not at all like a friend. How long had he missed those looks? How long had he not noticed the slow simmering desire beneath the surface? Suddenly he’s back in that closet and a teenager again, only now instead of your jean shorts, his finger curls into the pocket of your overalls, chest brushing yours. Cornered, your back bumps against the presently dry wall behind you.

“If it were me —” He stops. Thinks better of it.

“N-no,” you splutter out, voice a rasp, breath puffing, “go on. Hypothetically, obviously.”

“Well, for starters, I’d start by getting down on my kne —”

“Hey, kids!” Mr. Jones calls into the room, and you both jump like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t be. “Could one of you help me sort through some boxes? I don’t want to be a bother, but my back just isn’t what it was, you know?”

You throw a hand up in the air. “I’ve got it.”

Steve inwardly groans, his jeans suddenly a little too tight at what he’d been imagining doing to you only moments before — what he’d been imagining doing to you for years, if he was being honest.

You glance away, rushing over to Gerry, embarrassment rolling off your form.

And you’re gone, following the older man from where he came.

Conversation…over.

——

The window next door glows with lamplight. It’s after the earthquake that you see it. The earthquake that has you hiding in the doorway, holding onto the frame as the earth shudders and groans beneath you, pictures of your family now shattered frames scattered into a million pieces on the ground.

You grab a few things. Bandages, clothes, some water bottles. You can’t really tell how many people are over there, so you grab a pack. And when you ring the doorbell and Robin answers, looking stricken and covered in an inch of dirt, your heart groans too, because the look on her face is grim.

Steve throws his arms around you when you enter his bedroom, a whisper of, “You’re safe,” against your head. Reverently. Like he can’t quite believe it, like he wasn’t sure what he would find when he came back.

Your hands slide up and along his back, his body jolting at the contact, your fingers coming back a little stained with what looks to be fresh blood. “Steve, you’re hurt. I brought bandages.”

“He’s worse,” Steve utters through gritted teeth, “take care of him first.”

And there on the bed is Eddie Munson, with Nancy Wheeler there to rest a cloth against his head, whispering to the man under her breath. Soothing him, soothing those wrinkles that line his forehead — deep set in his pain.

With Nancy’s help, you get to work. Trying to cut him out of his clothes, careful to not agitate the wounds any further, apologizing for every whimper. Every broken sob of the man who fought to save a town that would have killed him on their own had they been given the change.

And later, after you’ve scrubbed your arms raw to try and rid yourself of the remnants of Eddie’s blood, Steve slides in beside you in the bathroom. Curls a hand around your head and tugs you against him, kissing your temple. Whispering something against your skull that you can’t quite make out. Steve’s not religious, but you swear he thanks someone for keeping you safe.

“You’re next,” you mutter, wiggling out of his hold, peering up at the dirty face of the man you love. “Strip.”

“See, in a different context, those words coming from your lips —”

“I’m not joking,” you sing-song, tugging at the bloodied shirt he’s wearing. “Off with it.”

“I can’t,” he winces.

“You’re getting modest with me now? I’ve seen you half naked more times —”

“I think it’s a little stuck,” he groans, turning around and peeling off the outer jacket. It falls to the ground and you can see what he’s talking about. The injuries, freshly reopened, cling to the fabric like a second skin.

You whistle on an exhale, and he laughs darkly. “It’s not so bad. Just looks like one area got a little angry. If you get in the shower, I can run a little water on it to loosen it up.” You lift the edge of his shirt a bit, noting the swath of bandages around his waist. “Who did these? They look pretty good.”

“Nancy.”

“Good,” you say, a little softly, “now into the shower, Harrington.”

You’re trying. Trying to make light of a terrible night. But you can see the pain in his form that runs deeper than the scratches on the surface. Can see it in the tension on his form as he slips out of his jeans and climbs into the tub with nothing but a pair of boxers.

Neither of you speaks for a while. As you turn on the water and try to soak his shirt. As you eventually peel the shirt away and whisper you’re sorry over and over when he hisses and bites back against the pain. Nor as you run a damp towel over the wounds to clean them, careful to not agitate his mangled flesh further.

But then you hear it. The sniffle. The shudder of breath.

“Steve,” you whisper, threading your fingers in his hair, feeling him tremble against your touch, “what happened tonight?”

He cries. Folds his face into his hands and cries.

You toss the cloth aside and climb in to hold him, because you’ve known physical pain, but this pain hits differently. Twists in you like a knife. You can handle your own pain, but seeing Steve break, seeing your hero crumble, is a pain that cuts to your marrow. Shatters and scatters your heart into a million pieces.

But you have to stay strong.

For him. For all the times he’s done the same for you.

He clings to you, fingers fisted into your shirt, and you don’t let go.

——

You don’t talk about that moment in Mr. Jones’ home. Neither of you bring it up for days. And yet — it’s all you can think about. The way he looked your way, the timbre of his words, the way heat had crawled up your spine. How it also pooled low, throbbed in your core in a way that was unfamiliar to you.

Was this passion? Desire? Lust? All feelings that seem so foreign, and yet you don’t fear them. You just ponder the new questions that arise. The curiosity of what this might mean — if it could lead to more.

On that particular day, both of you were off of work. Decided with Thanksgiving swiftly approaching, it was about time you went pumpkin picking. Pumpkin picking turned into a whole day event, where you and Steve took turns arguing over which pumpkins were suitable for the front of his porch, and which were suitable for decoration for the potluck gathering with some friends that upcoming weekend.

And after spending half the day drinking warm apple cider, sharing donuts on a hayride while bundled up in comfortable clothing, and racing each other through a corn maze, you’d decided the last thing on your itinerary for the “full Hawkin’s experience” was to carve pumpkins.

“In case you didn’t know,” Steve jokes, his knife poking out a hole for an eye in his pumpkin, “Halloween was a few weeks ago.”

“So what? We were busy and didn’t get to do this sooner,” you bemoan, cutting open the top of yours and moving to stick your hand inside.

“You’re just going in like that — bare hand and all?”

“What’s a little guts, Steve?”

“It’s gross,” he says plainly, eyes narrowing, “and messy.”

“What’s wrong with a little bit of mess?” Your tongue pushes out between your lips as you get to work, pulling out handful after handful of pumpkin guts into the garbage pail you set up beside the table the two of you worked on.

“I happen to not mind a little mess,” he teases, coming to stand over your shoulder, the heat of his chest at your back. “What are you making?”

“A Garfield pumpkin,” you tell him, scooping more of the inside out into a trash can. “I happen to be quite fond of your kitten. Maybe more than you.”

“Really?” he asks playfully, stepping a little closer to hook his chin over your shoulder.

“Are you jealous?” you muse, circling around.

Like this, your chests nearly brush, his palms come up to rest beside your hips, caging you in against the table. Heat pools low again at the look on his face. The firm line of his lips, the curve of his jaw, the round depths of his hazel eyes. There’s a look in them you can’t quite place — a look you’ve never seen in Steve’s eyes, or anyone’s for that matter. But you know you like it, thighs bumping a bit off of the table as you crawl up onto it, legs swinging beneath you.

Fingers come up to curve along your cheek, Steve’s thumb brushing the line of your jaw with a pinky. Delicately, like you’re precious. Like you might break. “You got a little something on your face.”

“Oh,” you whisper out, swallowing as he leans in closer, as his hips slide into the space between yours. “Steve…”

He steps closer once more. Hips brushing against the cradle of yours. There’s a heat from him that seeps into you. Grows as his forehead rests against yours and you both breathe in the same space, neither of you speaking, because there’s nothing this moment requires other than a nearness. His nose glides down the side of yours, one hand of his coming to curl around your hip, squeezing the curve of it. Your mind screams at you he’s going to kiss you, and your heart leaps because you want it.

“What are you thinking?” he asks, and it’s a loaded question.

You’re thinking you want to erase the space between the two of you. You’re thinking there’s a chance this doesn’t quite mean to him what this means to you. You’re thinking that you’re scared to allow Steve to see inside the part of you that you’ve kept from him all these years. But you’re also thinking if you’re going to play with fire, there’s a knowing chance you may get burned.

“I’m thinking…” you exhale, chest pushing further into his as your back arches a bit, propping yourself up onto your hands. Only, as soon as you do so, pain flares in the center of your palm, gasping breath coming out with a, “Shit!”

Steve’s there in a flash, fingers curling around your offended wrist that you show him. Blood pools up from the wound, the bloodied knife skittering beside it onto the forest floor when he shoves it out of the way. You hadn’t even remembered it was there, too caught up in the moment.

“Honey…” he sighs, thumb brushing along the curve of your wrist, glancing down at the cut, “let’s get you inside. You might need stitches.”

“No hospital,” you tell him, pinching your bottom lip between your teeth, “you’ve patched enough people up. This should be a walk in the park, right?”

“Yeah but this is you,” he says, and before you can ask him what he means by that, he’s helping you off of the table and steadying you when you land on the leaves below.

The bathroom is dimly lit by this time of day, even with Steve flicking the light on as soon as you enter. The edge of the tub is cool against your leggings, chilling your skin even through the fabric, as Steve rummages around in his cabinets for a first aid kid. And then he gets to work, sitting across from you on the toilet seat, making sure to irrigate your wound before dressing it.

“Not deep,” he says finally, inspecting the shallow cut that slices the center of your palm, “gonna disinfect it.”

A hiss pours from you as he does, pain flaring in the wound. Your free hand whips out to clutch at his pant leg, pinching the denim tight in your fingertips until the burning ebbs into a throbbing sting that beats in tandem with your heart.

“What did you mean before?” you ask as he starts to dress the wound, winding a bandage around and around your palm. “The whole ‘but this is you.’”

Steve pulls out a piece of medical tape and presses it to the end of the wrapping around your palm, his thumb rubbing along the inside of your wrist. “I can handle my pain, but I could never handle yours.”

You swallow, because you understand. You know first hand what he means — have experienced it yourself. Watching the man you love throw himself into harm's way and injure himself in the process. Having to mend his wounds, to see him hurting without a way to stop it, when all you wanted was to ease the pain.

“There you go,” he whispers, fingertips teasing along yours, before letting your hand fall back against your thigh. “No more pumpkin carving for you.”

“Thank you.” Your lip twitches as you climb off the lip of the bathtub, following him down the stairs.

“Steve, back there, I…”

“Come on, let me cook us dinner.” He pauses, stopping himself once you both realize you speak at the same time. “Wait — what were you going to say?”

You swallow thickly, the nervousness choking your words and drying them in your throat where they live and die instantaneously.

Not the time.

“N-nothing.”

——

“Don’t think I didn’t see how the two of you walked in together.” Robin twirls her drink around in front of her, brows arching as a smirk creeps along her features.

You sip your red wine, smiling to yourself over the rim. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Although you do. You arrived at Jonathan and Nancy’s new home with a freshly baked apple pie in hand, and Steve’s hand against your lower back, keeping you close to him. Clearly it hadn’t gone unnoticed, the evidence apparent in the look Robin was sending your way.

Out of the corner of your eye you notice Lucy struggling to open a wine bottle in the kitchen, and excuse yourself from Robin’s side to greet the woman. She’s beautiful today, in a pair of black jeans, and a brick red sweater. Effortless again, with endless wavy hair and those glowing eyes of hers.

“Here — let me,” you offer, helping her to get the cork out of the bottle.

Once it’s open, you pour the two of you new glasses of wine and clink your glass with her’s, peering out over the kitchen island to take in the sights around you.

Nancy and Jonathan went all out. They lined up multiple tables around the kitchen, making room for friends and family alike. Their parents sit at one table, while Steve, Robin, Eddie, Abi and Argyle talk amongst themselves. Holiday music filters in through the radio, as Nancy and Jonathan carve into the giant turkey resting against the table covered in Thanksgiving themed plate wear.

It’s been a long time since you’ve had a holiday like this. This is warm and inviting. Back in the city your parents would rent out restaurants and have wait staff take care of your evening. You’d always resented the thought that, while you spent time in a cold environment under the guise of “Thanksgiving,” those employees missed out on time they could spend with their own loved ones.

And when Steve looks over, you almost feel like you could fit in here. Almost allow yourself to dream big — to imagine a world where when he lifted his hand and waved as he is now, it would be full of love, full of the newness of relationship.

“So you and Steve…?” you can’t help but to ask, turning so your back rests against the kitchen counter, offering Lucy a soft smile.

She returns it a little tightly. “We…dated for a bit.”

“Oh.”

You weren’t expecting that. Had witnessed a little something passing along their features when you’d bumped into her weeks ago, but never thought to chalk it up to them dating. On paper it makes sense. She’s a teacher, they work together, she’s gorgeous, vibrant, bubbly, interesting. She’s here. She’s been here. And she belongs here.

And you — you don’t know what you’re doing most days. You’re living with Steve, but for how long? You want to stay, or think you want to, but what does that entail? There’s also the lingering doubt. The fear that you don’t quite belong as you once did. Can see it in the looks from people as you pass. Those who haven’t seen you in years now regard you as a stranger.

“Yeah, we’d gone on a few dates. He was always such a gentleman…but it just…” she exhales, and you watch as her eyes trail his form, “he always seemed kind of…detached? He didn’t want to commit. Sometimes we’d be spending time together and he just…didn’t seem all there? But it all made sense when I saw you two at the coffee shop that one day.”

“What?” you splutter, red wine dribbling down your chin at the suddenness.

“He lit up when he saw you. I’d never seen him look at me that way,” she admits softly, sipping her own wine. “I kind of wanted to hate you for it, but you were so nice and he deserves to be happy.”

“Oh — we’re not — it’s not —”

“Not yet,” she teases, giving you a little eye roll. “He’s happy. And he’s present. Both are things that have changed within him since you’ve been here. I don’t think that’s mere coincidence.”

Her words settle within you as you later join Steve at the dinner table, leaning into his shoulder as he scoops your requested dinner options onto your plate. They linger even as the kids arrive for dessert and the group ends up playing endless card games, laughter lyrical and swirling around the room, growing louder as the drinks continue to pour into awaiting cups.

And later, as you sit on Steve’s couch in no more than a pair of leggings, a comfy hoodie, and knitted socks you ponder Lucy’s words again while a fire crackles in the fireplace.

“What’s on your mind?” Steve asks, fingers kneading into the arch of your foot, your head against the armrest, eyes closed in contentment.

“Lucy is really pretty…”

“She is,” Steve agrees, his fingers pushing in again, drawing a deep sigh from within you.

“She works with kids, she’s bubbly, she’s established. All things that you’d normally go for.”

“Okay…”

“I’m just…I’m — I guess I'm trying to figure out why you two didn’t work out then.”

Steve pauses in his ministrations, shifting a bit on the couch to look at you. “Honey…you know why.”

“No,” you retort, feeling anxiety bubble up within you, “I really don’t.”

“There’s always been someone else.”

“I’m not understanding…”

With a sigh, Steve scoots closer. Tugs you up and onto his lap to get you even closer, your knees thumping onto the couch cushion at each side of his hips. He grips your hips and stares up into your eyes. There’s an unspoken question. A whisper behind his stare. Begs for you to look deeper, to see him, to see his heart.

“No.” You shake your head, anger welling. Replacing that anxiety. “I’ve looked at you my whole life and you never noticed. Now? Now you decide you —”

“It’s always been.” His strangled voice breaks your heart.

“Then why didn’t you say anything? All this time, all these years —”

“I tried,” he interjects, fingers winding tighter around your hips.

“When?”

“First time I visited you after you moved away.” He sounds somber. Heartbroken in a way that’s foreign to you. “You’d gone inside and your dad and I had a drink out back. Remember?”

You nod, swallowing thickly, fingers running along the hair at his temple. He gives you a little squeeze, forehead resting against yours.

“He…I told him about my feelings for you. And he…well, he wasn’t supportive.” He exhales a wobbly breath. “He had his points. I had no money. He was right about that. I worked at a dead end job and was going nowhere. I had nothing to offer you. He…painted a picture of us in a few years from now. Asked me how I’d be able to keep you happy…keep our family happy. And I thought maybe he was right.”

“Bullshit. Everything he said to you is bullshit,” you snap, climbing off of his lap. “I never wanted any of that. If I had you, Steve, then I would have everything.”

“I know that,” he cries, jumping to his own feet, looping an arm around your hips. “I know that now. I’ve seen you here the past few weeks and you fit here. With me in my life. I want to stop wasting time pretending you’re just my best friend because that’s all I ever thought you could be. I want you here. I want you in my bed every morning and night, I want to touch you and, I don’t know, hold you while we cook dinner together. I want to kiss you just because I can. I want to hold your hand. I want all of that.”

He tugs you close, your chests thumping. His heart throbs against your sternum and you raise a palm to settle there, to push him back, but you find you can’t. He sucks the air out of the room when he’s that close — when his mouth is mere centimeters from yours, and all you want is to close the distance.

“I never felt good enough for you,” he breathes against your lips, his breath a shaky exhale. Lips graze against lips, your fingers slide up further, along his chest, over the curve of his neck, the slope of his jaw.

“You’ve always been good enough for me, Steve,” you whisper back, forehead nuzzling forehead. “I don't need all the money. I don’t want fancy dinners or cars, I don’t need the newest clothes, shoes, pocketbooks. I’ve only ever wanted you.”

He slides a palm up against your cheek. A thumb draws a soft line across the curve of your jaw. “And now? What do you want right now?”

“I want you to kiss me.”

——

sorry about the delay. i’ve basically been sick since july, and wasn’t planning on having so many of my ‘bad’ days the past couple of weeks. the next chapter will be long, and i mean long. can’t wait to hear about what you think about this one! likes, comments, reblogs — all of that is such an encouragement to creators and means the world, so please consider 🤍

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

Hi :) I was wondering if you could do Poly Dallas and sodapop hcs? with a reader if you're comfortable with it, of course. I think it would be a funny dynamic

This was written in my anatomy class (can you tell that I don’t pay attention in anatomy?) so I’m gonna give @a-person-who-didn’t-want-to-be-here a big huge thank you for helping me out <4

Anyway!

There’s a really complicated getting together story here? I just haven’t figured it out quite yet, so I’m gonna leave that to you guys to think up cause there’s a few ideas swirling around my head, I just haven’t nailed anything down because I’m really not in love with any of my thoughts

But you’ve got the best of both worlds going on for you! A nice golden retriever boyfriend and a boyfriend who’s more of a german shepherd/rottweiler/doberman type-

Life is good!

Both of these boys run warm and they can both be very very handsy, made worse by the fact that they are both very very much in love with you

Jealousy is sort of wonky here? Cause Dally’s very loudly jealous, but Sodapop’s jealousy comes off as him acting more closed-off and withdrawn, he just kinda pulls away when you hang too much with Dallas

Also, before we get any further along, Sandy and Sylvia don’t exist here because I’m in charge and I make the rules :)

Parties! You’re always being dragged out to parties, whether it’s a drag race and you’re on Sodapop’s arm, or a late night party at Buck’s bar where Dally keeps you tucked to his side all night long

You’ve got the whole freaking gang honestly, the whole crew wrapped around your finger-

Dating Dally gets you Johnny in an instant, dating Sodapop gets you Pony, Dare, and Steve- the only one left is Two-Bit but ya know, he’s a good enough guy, he’s probably on your side in all this anyhow-

You’re at the DX a lot, just hanging around the pumps and the garage and the register while Soda’s at work (you definitely skip school to go see him, Dally picks you up and you guys waste the day over at the gas station)

Sodapop sneaking out to meet you and Dally down at Buck’s because there’s a party tonight and honestly he doesn’t care if Darry kills him for being at the Merrill’s establishment, he hasn’t seen you all week long-

Of course of course, you’re wearing Dally’s ring and when you and Sodapop are holding hands, he likes to twist it around your finger and fiddle with it

Dally asks him what he’s doing, asks if Sodapop’s trying to take it off as if he’s got some sort of problem with you wearing somebody else’s ring but Soda just kinda shrugs and says he likes fooling with it

Baby boy’s got no problem other than ADHD and he likes to mess with things 🤷

Patching them up after a rumble is such an obnoxious task- Dally’s whining about broken ribs and how he can barely breath and Soda’s slouched on the floor, holding an ice pack to his face and asking if you’ll still love him if he’s got a black eye

Suggestion? Try and keep them close together in this situation ^^ make them sit near each other, because they both want attention and if you’ve got to run back and forth across the living room every two seconds, no one’s going to be happy-

You spend a lot of time sitting in Dallas’ lap and you spend a lot of time holding Soda’s hand, sometimes these happen at the same time-

Imma say it, you’re not sharing a bed with both of them unless you’re hurt or sick because both of these boys are like portable space heaters and no matter how cold you may be, these human furnaces will make you feel like you’re being slowly cooked because they sandwich you between them

PET NAMES PET NAMES PET NAMES

Doll, baby, honey, sugar, sweetheart, babe….

Just…you’re gonna forget you actually have a name because they never call you by your actual name-

You’re dating two highschool dropouts, how do you feel about that?

Joking, joking, I know you feel wonderful, as you should, because you’re going with two great guys!!

There’s like?

A betting pool going around?

Because no one can figure out who you’re going out with (other than the gang of course)

And Sodapop and Dallas do nothing to help you out- they purposefully make it even worse-

You go to a party with Sodapop, hanging off his arm, and at the end of the night, you’re going home with Dally, spending your night in his room at Buck’s

You’re sitting on the DX counter (you don’t even work there but you have free reign of the place, let’s be real) and you’ve got Dally’s medal around your neck, Dal himself is off in reform and you and Sodapop are planning a date <3

One night, you get caught kissing Dallas, tongues down each others’ throats and all that jazz, and the next thing everyone else knows, you’re walking with Sodapop and he’s got a hand in your pocket

Everyone is town is anxiously awaiting the day that the boys figure out you’re two-timing them because surely, Dallas Winston isn’t going to stand for you messing around on him

But ya know, nothing ever happens, even when people try and get Sodapop and Dallas to see what’s going-

With Soda, they’ll point out Dally and you sitting at a diner booth together, asking him what’s going on, cause weren’t you guys going steady?

And Dal, they’ll ask him where you are when you’re not at Buck’s, mentioning casually that you’ve been hanging out around the DX an awful lot-

With Male!Readers?

You guys are labeled just as good friends all the time and it makes it a lot easier to lie about why you guys are together all the time (curse you time-period realistic homophobia *shakes my fist at the sky*)

I would loveeeeee to do a male!reader piece for this topic, just saying guys-

This….really got away from me-

Sorry for making this so long guys-

[hobvitr]

hi love, how are you? could you do an earth 42 miles morales x reader in enemies to lovers style? i really want to read this <3 thank you

miles morales 42 x reader

fem!reader

genre/warnings: enemies to lovers (kinda), angst, hurt, mentions of being assaulted, fluff, comfort, kissing, miles 42 may be out of character idk, unrevised writing

note: heyy darling!! thank you for this request! i tried my best to make it make sense and i hope it does! just finished it almost passing out from sleep :p recommended song: don't - bryson tiller

sinopses: your neighbor isn't the most friendly to you and you are intrigued by it, until he help you with a bad situation

you were making your way up the stairs of your apartment, humming the song that echoed throughout your earphones. too distracted looking the at the steps, you bump into someone going the opposite direction.

"oh, sorry-" you quickly apologize looking up to see who was it, and to your surprise, it was your neighbor, miles morales. he just stared at you, not bothering to answer or apologize too, and continued to made his way down stairs.

'damn, what a prick...' you thought to yourself, furrowing your eyebrows as you reached your door, carefully unlocking it with your keys. as you entered your cozy home, you throw your shoes at the entrance and made your way to the kitchen.

you started to rewind a little bit your encounters with morales while you gathered ingredients to cook some dinner, noticing that he never directed One word towards you, you didn't even know what his voice sounded like, just muffled when he was chatting briefly with his uncle and it happened that you heard. some neighbors are a pain in the ass but you didn't understand why he was so avoidant around you. although he was pretty unsympathetic he looked like a good person, because his mother, rio, was an angel.

as you were looking throughout the shelves for salt, you realized you needed to go to the grocery store to get some. you sighed with exhaustion, putting your shoes again and picking just your wallet to go down the street. it was already dark now, your classes ended a bit later than expected so you weren't used to go out alone at this time of the night.

as you walked down the street, you didn't realize you were being followed by some tall and pretty much bigger guy than you. anxiety started to burn into your veins as you picked up your pace, but his pace got quicker too. taking a deep breath you just kept going, not so far to the store, but you felt a strong hand hold your arm, making you flinch.

"where do you think you're going, lady?" the buff guy asked, his hold getting tighter around your arm and you started to tear up with fear. "where do you think she's going?" a low voice comes near you, catching your attention. morales?

"fuck off. now, kid." the guy said, reaching to the inside of his coat, but miles was faster, throwing a punch on his face, making the buff guy look like a little bitch now curled on the ground. your eyes widened as you looked at him, then at morales.

"s-sorry" you stutter at miles, not sure what to say. "shouldn't be apologizing" he replies. "y'kay?" he asks, making eye contact with you, scolding you towards the grocery store, not wanting the man to be near you.

"i think so... yeah.." you breathe out, still shaky from the shock it all was. he accompanies you in the store while you get your salt and some candy, and you almost forgot to thank him for probably saving your life. "thank you... so much, actually."

he nod with a slight smile you almost didn't see. your mind race with the thought of asking him why he didn't like you but still punch some guy for your safety. "i'm sorry for asking, but is there a reason why you never talk to me? did i do something wrong? 'cause i really don't know and i would like to improve if i'm being a pain in the ass" your voice filled with a kind of despair.

he stayed silent for a moment, making you feel embarrassed, but he finally answered. "you're fine, i just don't tend to talk to anyone" he didn't seem convincing, but you got along with it anyway.

there wasn't much mystery, really. he had difficult to get to know new people, you just didn't knew about that. you assumed he was popular between the neighborhood and school, but it was a wrong assumption and you still didn't know about it.

"oh, okay" you replied, slightly relieved you were clear. "well, I'm y/n l/n" you extended your arm for a handshake. "I'm no more anyone" you said smiling to him as he shake your hand. "I'm miles morales" he replied with a small grin.

you kept your optimism now that he helped and talked to you. everyday after that day you said the most sympathetic 'hey' at him, and day after day he was opening his shell to you, replying and catching up to know how you and your family are.

you started to feel weird, getting excited to see and talk to him when you two could. nothing wrong to be happy to see a friend, right? right, but wrong assumption. he wasn't just your friend, he was your crush too. when he appeared with braids you could swear you were passing out at the sight. that was the confirmation to your questions about why you felt weird about miles.

your phone vibrate, indicating a new message. you read 'miles 🐈' on the screen, making you pick up to see what was it.

'can u come to the rooftop?'

'sure'

you replied, putting on a coat that he lent to you and a pair of snickers. you made your way through upstairs and made to the rooftop. you saw him sitting on the edge of the roof.

"what's up, morales?" you got closer to him at his right side, supporting your elbows where he was sitting. you were a bit afraid of doing the same as him.

"hey" he replied, looking at you. for whatever reason you were nervous about meeting him, and you did it almost daily. "why'd you called me here?" you asked nonchalantly, faking tranquility.

"i just wanted to see you" his words came out like honey, your heart melting as you heard it, but you can't show your weakness as you don't know how he feels about you. "that's cute" you tease him, a grin escaping from your lips and he bumps you with his elbow. "shut up" you know he was smiling as he said.

"i was thinkin' earlier... that I'm not being honest with you" he started, making you cut eye contact with him. you knew something was up and now you are sure everything was being dumped in trash at real time. you stayed quiet, not wanting to interrupt his vent.

"i don't tell you everything, i even lie to you" his tone was low, but you could still hear him, and that was the problem. you didn't want to hear anything more and go home to process everything and cry your eyes out locked in your room. "i don't think we can be friends anymore" he stated, your heart swell completely, tears threatening to fall but you were strong to hold back. "i want to make you happy, i want to love you property" he confessed.

your mind was racing now, trying to understand what he meant exactly, you didn't want to be delusional and state you liked him back, what if he was talking about something else.

"i know you're overthinking right now, there's no need" he chuckled briefly, looking at your poor confused expression. "i like you. more than as a friend" he said clearly, not one misinterpretation was possible to happen now.

you finally looked back at him, teary eyed while you chuckled at your situation and the theatre he made just to confess to you. "fuck, you don't confess to someone like this, miles, you almost killed me" your hand was covering your face, letting some tears roll down your cheeks. "i like you too" you confessed, voice mumbled, as you were still shy to admit it.

he was smiling beautifully, both of you with shining eyes. miles got back to the floor, now standing at your side. "sorry about almost killing you" one of his hands traveled to your cheek, his thumb caressing slightly your soft skin. "can i redeem myself?" he ask with a grin and you reply with one as well. "don't get me waiting" he almost cutted you mid sentence crashing his lips onto yours.

even with the excitement of both of you, the kiss maintained a slow and soft pace, making you smile at the moment. miles placed his other hand at your waist, backing up for air. "we have to catch up all that time we didn't kissed each other" he say, getting a chuckle out of you. "we'll manage it" you winked placing your arms around his neck.

[aph-mable]

dpxdc; My Uncle is Nuts.

My Uncle Is A Nut

Written by:

Aph-mable

@thegatorsgoose

Having been announced the heir and Co ceo of D.A.L.V co, Danny has gotten used to being dragged to formal events with Vlad against his will. Getting caught up in saving one of the many galas he’s forced to attend, Danny catches the eye of one Lex Luther. 

Chapter 1

Danny tries hard not to sigh for the umpteenth time as Vlad drags him towards another group of rich folks and reporters.

When his Godfather had publicly announced Danny as his heir during one of his mayoral speeches he thought he was going to die all over again from sheer embarrassment and frustration, especially when he started calling Danny out of class to work on ‘special’ projects or drag him to Gala’s like this one.  

Usually at least one member of team Phantom would come along, usually Sam since her parents often forced her to attend anyway, unfortunately this time everyone was busy.

Sure Danny could have asked, but he didn’t want to take away what little free time they had during spring break, so for now he was going to face this party on his own. After all nothing really interesting happens at these and he’s not going to end up socializing much anyways. 

At the moment Vlad had rolled him over to a group of men who were chatting away about their latest technology, a nerdy looking yet buff reporter taking notes on everything. 

Danny was only half listening to what was being said when the frootloop budged in, something about wanting to partner up with Wayne tech since DALV co was already partnered with Lex co.

He could only roll his eyes and cringe as his crazy arch nemesis wrapped an arm around the shoulders of the bald ceo who looked just as done as he felt.

Seeing Vlad finally to distracted with his deals Danny took his chance and snuck away, moving his wheelchair as fast as possible to make a break for it, away from the party and to explore the building. maybe even escape if he was lucky. 

Unfortunately as he reached one of the doors the pesky security stopped him, saying he needed to stay within the building, so he pulled out the oldest trick in his book. 

“I have to go to the bathroom, can you at least point me to it?” He even pulled out his pleading eyes to look as innocent as possible to make the security guards feel uncomfortable.

“It’s through those doors over there, just across from the kitchen… do you want-” before the guard could finish Danny was already zooming to the door and shouting, “No thanks, byye!” 

Once out of sight he at least made an effort to head towards where the bathroom was but stopped in front of the kitchen.

First double checking all sides of the hallway, he pushed himself into the kitchen in search of something to tinker with. Danny swears he will drop dead if he doesn't get some kind of technology in his hands. 

When he entered the place was completely empty of any staff. makes sense as they had set up a huge buffet in the main hall and had all the kitchen staff stand against the wall to show who cooked what, like it was some kind of grand show. 

This left Danny to ‘borrow’ a few appliances, they’re rich they can afford it!

He ends up taking a toaster, a blender, and some kind of cylinder air fryer, stuffing them all into his magic bigger-than-it-looks bag and bolting out of there as fast as his wheels could take him so as to not get caught. 

Once he re enters the gala he parks himself in the furthest corner near a window. He starts pulling out his mini tool kit and the items he took, trying his best to hide them by making them semi invisible so it just looked like he was messing with his tools as he gets to building an ecto gun. 

Danny tried to stay alert and scan the room on occasion but nothing much was happening, Vlad was still bragging to the group of men, and there were only three other kids around his age hanging out on the opposite side of the room. One looked ready to pass out while the other two stood next to the door arguing over who’s dog was best.

Danny pulled his goggles down over his eyes and rolled up his sleeves so his specialized gloves could start putting power into the ecto gun. He quickly starts to hyper focus as he tinkered with the homemade gun, his mind drifting off to play among stars that were just out of reach. 

Even with everyone talking around him it all faded to white noise, finally quiet enough he now focused his power to flow through the machinery as he twisted the screws into the right place. 

His very core sang with how peaceful it was as he finished making the home made ecto gun and set it down in his lap. 

Just as Danny turns it invisible to put it away, his chair is suddenly jerked as he’s dragged towards the now frightened guests, a group of men dressed in green and purple question marked suits threaten everyone into a corner as they start setting up strange equipment.  

Clutching his invisible weapon tightly in his lap one of the goons tries threatening him with a gun, but before Danny could react Vlad steps in front of Danny, letting out an instinctual growl to make them back off. 

The goon rolls his eyes before directing them to where he wants them to go, trying hard to not let his hands shake too badly as he thrust more people into the now overcrowded corner, keeping watchful eyes on Vlad who is seconds away from losing his temper and ripping someone's throat out.

Now most people in this situation would just listen to their captors, sit still, be quiet, all that jazz, especially with how many of the goons were now bringing in strange green canisters of gas that gave off the scent of pure fear.

Yet as Danny rams Vlad’s ankles with the wheels of his chair it's pretty clear he wasn’t like most scared civilians. For once he was siding with his godfather as he was very, very angry. Angry that they were targeting innocent people, angry that Vlad was treating him like he was helpless, angry that he had to show up to this stupid gala in the first place… He had noticed some of the other kids giving them the slip earlier, at least there’s that. 

Just as they bring in the last canister one of the goons trips and nearly brakes open the container, which got the already annoyed second incharge to yell at them. 

“For fucks sake! Be careful with those things, we don’t even know what they’ll do yet!”

The younger looking goon, who looks barely out of their teens, shrinks away as they whimper out an apology. He sets the items down as others around them either stare in frustration or sympathy. 

Yeah, no. 

 “Wow you people are pathetic.” 

The second in command turns at Danny’s outburst, taking a step forward and clenching his fists. “What the fuck did you just say?” Danny rolls his eyes before glaring at the goon “I said you’re pathetic, did you get that or do you need me to repeat myself again?”

The crowd looks on in half horror, half shock as the leader walks up to Danny, resting his hands on his arm rests and leaning down to stare at Danny threateningly. Danny leans back in his wheelchair and looks up at him with a bored expression, unphased. Vlad tries to shove his way to Danny, but is held back by several goons. Danny spares a quick glare at his godfather, he has everything under control.

“I may be a criminal, but even I don’t like kicking a kid when they’re already down.” The goon says, moving his eyes down to glance at Danny’s wheelchair and back up again, glaring into his eyes. “So I’m going to give you one last chance to take that back.”

Danny narrows his eyes at the goon as he clutchs the invisible ecto gun in his lap, it’s now or never. With near inhuman speed he quickly reaches for his bag and pretends to pull the weapon out, aiming it right at the goons temple. There’s audible gasps from the crowd as the goon stumbles away with wide eyes before gaining his footing and going right back to glaring.

“And I’m going to give you one last chance to reconsider what you’re doing with your life” Danny smirks at the goon, already reading up the lecture in his head.

“It’s 30 minutes past start time, what is taking you so-“ Danny’s smirk evolves into a full shit eating grin as the Riddler walks in to scold the goons, what perfect timing.

With the crowd distracted Danny uses his other hand to unlock his phone. With a few simple swipes, Danny has the gala on lockdown. With the main asshole inside.

Perfect.

_____________________________________________________________

Damian puts on his Robin suit with trained proficiency once they make it to the cave. Unfortunately he and Jon were the only ones able to leave on time, the rest of the family having been dragged away. Truly, this proved that he had good reason to not mingle with the crowd. It had nothing to do with the noise. Or the lights. Or the small talk.

Truly.

“Who do you think it is this time?” Jon asks, an excited smile on his face. But even while being carried, Damian could see the tension in his frame, the nervous tick in his brow. His friend was worried. “I mean, they have the question mark thing going on, but they also had the gas canisters which I don't think the Riddler does that? And the gas itself kinda smelled like lavender and hazelnuts like fear gas but it was also kinda minty? And not like candy cane minty but like straight mint leaf minty? I don’t know, I only know there’s a difference cus ma tried to make mint tea that one time cus she was super sleep deprived and she read online that mint tea could improve memory or something, that stuff reeked!” Another indication of Jon’s nervousness, rambling. By the time Jon had finished his rant, they had already made it to the gala.

Once he’s put down Damian dusts himself off and turns to Jon. “It is most likely a team up, then.” He pulls out his katanas and readys himself for the fight ahead. “Once you break down the door our job is to stall long enough for the others to get out. We don’t know what the gas can do, so keeping the containers safe is our top priority.” As much as it pains him to admit, just him and Jon won’t be enough to handle it themselves. There’s too many people, and they need some of the bats to disperse around Gotham in case the riddler has set up a larger plan.

Jon smiles at him and nods, hopping from foot to foot in excitement (which he doesn’t find adorable at all). “You ready?” Damian gives a sharp nod before Jon kicks in the door.

“-I mean COME ON, people would PAY you to have a chance at your game show! You could even do your whole “riddle me this!” Thing as it’s own segment! But noOOOOooo, you wanna risk the lives of countless civilians so you can get a fucking furry to answer your stupid riddles, most of which aren’t even original! And NOW you wanna partner up with a fear junky cus why?”

“I-“ a clearly startled Riddler tries to answer before being interrupted.

“Oh yeah, cus your BUDDY, your PAL scarecrow, thought it would be so FUNNY to release an UNTESTED gas in a gala for a fucking THRILL HIGH.”

But instead of a fight they walk into.. this.

 A wheelchair bound boy with black hair and blue eyes (who he’s sure his siblings would call “adoption bait”) holding a strange silver and green gun that looked straight out of one of Damian’s sci-fi mangas, at a confused and startled Riddler. It seems the crowd used this as an opportunity, as the rest of the goons were restrained near the walls by a mix of his family, Kent, and various gala attendees, while the middle of the room was occupied by the armed boy.

“Huh?” Jon let his arms rest at his sides as his head tilted to the side in confusion (it does NOT remind him of a confused puppy, absolutely not). However before Damian could say anything, it seems the boy has finally noticed them.

“Oh, you’re here. Took you long enough.” The boy finally puts the gun down and into a bag at his side. “Have fun.” He says in a bored tone as he turns and starts pushing himself in the direction of a man with silver hair, Vlad Masters, who met him in the middle only to start fussing over him, seemingly much to the boy’s annoyance.

Finally shaking off their shock both Damian and Jon rush to detain the Riddler until the police show up, yet Damian’s curiosity keeps bringing his eyes back to Master’s and his ward. outwardly, the concern seemed genuine, but with how the boy was reacting to just being touched by Master’s… made him think otherwise. 

Even Lex Luthor was side eyeing the man instead of resuming his chatter with father or Mr. Kent, meaning something was happening and Damain was determined to find it out one way or another. 

For now though, they have their hands full because of Riddler and Scarecrow.

Domain knew he should have stayed back with Ace. 

____________________________________________________________________________

End of chapter 1