#Didn't realize it was Halloween until an hour ago | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thisapplepielife · 3 months ago

Text

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

Get It Together

Prompt Day 14: Together | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Off-Screen Canon Typical Violence, Steve's Not-So-Great Parents | Tags: Steve's Relationship With His Parents, Or: Snapshots of Steve Harrington at Seven, Seventeen & Twenty-Seven, Future Established Steddie, Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Platonic Stobin, Good Uncle Wayne Munson, Hurt & Finding Your Comfort

1973

"Not on my tablecloth!"

Steve jumps, turning his head, towards the sound of his mother's voice. It's sharp, angry, and he knows it's not at him. Not really. But it scares him, all the same. He knows she's mad at Dad, again. He was supposed to be home hours ago. He's still not home.

"Sorry, mom," Steve says, he'll be more careful.

He's learned to be careful, but he just forgot. Wrapped up in painting, up on his knees in the dining room table chair, so he can reach everything. And he just forgot about the lace tablecloth his mom had folded back, putting down old newspaper under his paper instead.

"I'm sorry," he says again, and he's pretty sure he didn't get anything on the tablecloth. He was just getting too close to it. That's all.

His mother sighs, "It's okay. You're fine," she says, leaning over, and resting her chin on the top of his head. "It looks great. Your father will love it."

"Is Dad coming home tonight?"

She doesn't know.

Dad is always gone at work.

Steve hears them fight when his dad is home, even if they think he doesn't. And Steve doesn't understand why, not fully, but he gets enough to know she's always sad.

He nods. And when Dad comes home two hours later, Steve's excited to show him the painting.

"Aren't you a little old for this?" his father asks, and Steve looks down at the piece of paper in his hands. He's too old for art?

Steve yanks his hands backwards, ducking them behind his back, hiding the artwork. Stupid. It was stupid. A tear slides down his cheek.

"Get it together, Steve," he says.

Steve nods, eyes cast to the ground. It's past his bedtime anyway.

1984

He tries to sneak home without being seen. He knows what he looks like, eyes red, nose running. He cried in the car, away from any prying eyes.

He's bullshit, apparently.

Unfortunately, his dad is still up reading files when Steve tries to carefully sneak through the back sliding door.

"Steven?" his dad questions, and Steve wipes at his eyes again, trying to make himself presentable.

Steve knows he'll want to talk about basketball, his grades. Or something that he's found unsatisfactory, and Steve's just not in the mood.

"I'm home," Steve says, hoping that's all that will come of this, maybe his dad won't even look up.

But his dad looks him over carefully, "Are you crying? Aren't you a little old for that?"

He can't explain. What's he gonna say? His girlfriend got drunk and was mean to him? No way.

So, Steve lies, "Just the cold air."

"Get it together. You're late," his dad says, pointedly looking at the large grandfather clock. It's three after midnight.

"Halloween traffic," Steve lies again. If his dad can use bullshit excuses, so can Steve.

1993

Steve stands in the hospital hallway, crying. Robin's rubbing his shoulders. He thought they were done with this. It's been seven years. He hadn't been ready for Hawkins to unexpectedly rear its ugly head. He'd settled into a life with Eddie, blending into the city.

Living, being happy, not bothering anyone.

However, tonight, they hadn't realized they were being followed until Eddie had been knocked to the ground.

Andy. Chance. A guy Steve only vaguely recognized.

And in a particularly cruel twist of the knife, Tommy.

More retaliation for crimes not committed, years later.

They're fine. Bruises. Some stitches. Eddie's getting a cast on his wrist after being pushed to the concrete. It could've been worse. Being outnumbered, and unprepared.

Eddie didn't deserve this. Not in '86, and not now.

"You're okay," Robin says.

He starts to agree, when a familiar voice breaks the silence.

"Aren't you a little old for this?" his father asks, and Steve fucking hates that question. He's been asked it a thousand times during his lifetime.

And today, it's too much.

"For what? What am I doing now that is so fucking unacceptable to you?" Steve snaps, and his dad's eyebrows shoot up.

Steve's never talked back to him like that. Not once.

But he's twenty-seven. A man.

He's not seventeen, or seven. He's no longer going to be shamed for feeling things.

He doesn't have to get it together. He can cry.

Nobody should've called them. He didn't ask for that. He wants to be left alone. That should have been clear when he fled Hawkins and never returned.

"I don't need you here," Steve says.

"We've been looking for you," his mom explains. "The chief of-"

"I don't care," Steve interrupts. And he doesn't care what connection they exploited to find him.

"You should go," Robin snaps, angling herself between them.

"I wanted to know that you were okay," his mom says, and honestly, he believes that. He does. But his father? No. He just wanted to come rub salt into whatever open wounds he might find.

"I'm okay. So is Eddie, thanks for asking," Steve says sarcastically, and relishes them freezing up.

The exam room door behind him opens.

Wayne. Steve immediately feels more at ease.

"They let him get a black cast," Wayne says, and Steve wipes at his eyes and laughs.

"How very metal," Robin says.

His father starts, "We-"

"Were just leaving," Steve finishes for him, not caring what he was actually about to say.

"Great, I'll walk them out," Wayne says, holding out his arm, waiting. Giving no other option.

Steve loves him.

Robin holds open the exam room door for Steve, and clearly intends to stand guard.

He loves her, too.

Steve doesn't hang around. He slides into Eddie's temporary room, and sees him trying to get redressed with his brand new cast.

"Need some help?" Steve asks.

"Uh, yeah," Eddie says, and tosses Steve his pants.

"Well, I'm more practiced at taking these off," Steve says, and Eddie laughs as Steve squats down, "but I'll try my best."

They'll be just fine. Together.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! ❤️

#steddieholidaydrabbles #prompt: together #steddie #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steddie fan fic #wayne munson #steddie fic #robin buckley #stranger things #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles

180 notes · View notes

spookykoolkat · 1 year ago

Text

kinktober | sorry about your boyfriend - e.m.

kinktober day ten - phone sex

pairing: eddie munson x plus size!reader

wc: 3.45k

summary: when you had plans made for halloween night already, eddie was alone once again. but that didn't stop him from having his own fun, until his phone rang with your contact listed.

warnings: 18+ ONLY! minors are never welcomed! inappropriate thoughts, memories from a past hookup, masturbation (m and f), mentions of breeding, crude language, dirty talk, infidelity (reader cheats on boyfriend *again*), possessiveness,

reblogs are encouraged! i hope everyone enjoys this! feel free to like, comment and reblog everything is appreciated :P sorry 4 being so late :(((

⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧ °｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧

HIS OPPORTUNITY WAS PERFECT. eddie’s roommate left for the night, leaving him alone in the crappy apartment, it was halloween and he had zero plans after you canceled on him. his options were to watch a movie, go to sleep, or think about you.

he couldn’t even try to not think of you if he wanted to. it was only one night when the two of you hooked up, and it never happened again. it was almost six months ago when you and eddie ventured to a friend’s birthday party, drinking a little too much and finding each other at the bathroom door.

things were said, things that neither of you could take back, but somehow the two of you completely bypassed it. accepted that it was a one time thing, that friends aren’t supposed to do that, and you even tried to convince eddie that he wasn’t attracted to you.

which he thought was ridiculous. because eddie would’ve kissed the soles of your dirty shoes if you asked him to.

you’d been on his mind since that night, questions in his head that he never got the answer to, the way your body felt around him, on him. he never knew someone could be so perfect for him, how he found someone to connect with on every level.

so he thought about you as he laid in bed, eyes at the ceiling and hand palming his half hard cock through his blue plaid pajama pants. wondering if you’d ever give him the chance to fuck you sober, if you’d ever think about him when you touched yourself.

he didn’t even know how vocal you were until that night, seeing a side of you that he got angry at when he thought about anyone else seeing that side. seeing the way you bounced for him, how your body curved and was marked with beauty and stretch marks.

he was trying to remember what your cunt felt like again, remembering how juicy you were for him — he felt like he could lick between your folds for hours.

soon, he shimmied off the clothing that constricted him and pushed them to his ankles before spitting in his hand and lathering his length with it. he was thinking about how you looked when you saw him, saw how he throbbed for you.

eddie pulled down his jeans clumsily, releasing the aching member you craved to see. the minute it sprung out for you, red and leaking with precum, you let out a soft gasp and a moan.

“eddie,” you started as you shifted on your knees, your hand cupping his balls and moving to grip him at the base of his cock, eyes darting wide eyed between his cock and his eyes, “you’re so big,”

“so pretty,” you smiled and bit your lip, watching as he let his mouth hang open and breathing heavily before letting your mouth connect to his tip, licking up his precum and giving his tip small kisses.

he groaned, wishing he could feel your throat again. it was killing him, seeing you with this new guy you said was the one. the anger and jealousy eddie felt was sinful, knowing that nobody would be good enough for you. not even himself.

it wasn’t until eddie bucked his hips into his fist when his phone rang obnoxiously, eddie’s heart racing as he used his free hand to pick up the cellphone and look at the screen.

it was your picture you chose for the contact, and your name flashing. he could practically feel his cock throb at the sight of you.

“h-hello?” eddie breathed, realizing he hadn’t been talking since he laid in bed.

“hi eddie,” you smiled through the call, “i just wanted to tell you happy halloween, i’m sorry i couldn’t make it,” you sighed.

“i went to a party, i’m a little tipsy but i’m home. i just wanted to call you.” your voice was raspy, how it usually got after you smoked weed.

“you okay? do you need me to come stay with you?” eddie worried, his grip still on his hardened cock.

“no! no, no that’s okay. just wanted to hear your voice,” you admitted with a blush, the small amount of alcohol you consumed causing you to fluster as well.

“you like my voice, sweetheart?” he asked, something darker in his tone than you expected, but loved anyways.

you could admit the crush on eddie was ridiculous. until he did and said things like that, the way he did, and it made your thighs clench.

“you have a nice voice eddie, okay?” you said, finally stripping out of your clothes and deciding to just lay naked in bed.

“tell me moreee,” he dragged with a smile, slowly pumping his length as you spoke into the phone.

he knows it’s wrong. he knows it’s foul and sick. perverted even.

but did he care? not right now. not when you sounded so fucking sexy just by talking to him, in your sleepy high voice.

snuggled up in your blankets, you press the phone to your ear and smile at the wall in the darkness. “there’s a lot i like about you, eddie, can’t name them all.”

eddie’s heart twinged, and his cock throbbed.

“i have all night, sweets,” eddie breathed into the phone, trying to mask the pleasure he was inflicting on himself because of you.

you weren’t sure if you were hearing right, or if maybe it was just the cell reception, but you could vaguely hear the tremble in eddie’s voice and something that sounded wet.

“well, i like your voice, and your taste in music, and… mmm… your hands, those are nice. i also like your hair even though you won’t let me touch it.” you pouted and he could hear it through the phone, only making him think of how you pouted after he fucked your face.

it was magical to eddie. how could he forget the way your wide eyes stared up at him with spit traveling down your chin, the way you gripped his cock and wanted to suck him off more.

he let out a small groan, one he thought he concealed as he pumped his cock faster, feeling his precum leak down his shaft.

“you like my hands?” again, breathy and hoarse as he tried to keep composure.

“i do.” you smiled. you were intentional with your words.

you remembered telling eddie that when a girl compliments your hands, she isn’t admiring the fact that they’re nice. she’s saying they’re nice because she’s thinking of the ways your fingers would feel inside of her, or just touching all over her.

and he remembered it too.

“i like yours too,” eddie breathed and your face heated up, drowning in redness.

“i like your arms too, seems like all the guitar playing you do pays off.” you smiled and hearing the rasp in your voice made his cock jerk, stroking himself firmer and at a bit of a faster pace.

“did you have a good time tonight, sweets?” he asked, trying to keep it together even though he was trying to picture what you looked like. if you wore the dress that didn’t require a bra, pressing tight against the curves of your breasts and perfectly fitting them.

eddie knew your bra size, of course he did. he managed to rummage through your top drawer, seeing the panties and bras you had. he was shocked at how big they really were, and you ended up catching him with the cup of your bra on the top of his head.

“i did, but i just, i don’t know. i missed you. wished i could’ve spent your favorite holiday with you,” you said solemnly, like you were actually grieving the fact that you couldn’t see him today.

to eddie, he was getting mixed signals.

“sweetheart let me ask you this,” eddie said and halted his movements, “why are you on the phone with me instead of your boyfriend after the club?”

your smiled faded, “‘cus i wanted to talk to you,”

he could hear the pout from behind the phone and bit his lip, stifling the groan you elicited from him. his hand kept stroking his length, getting closer to his release the longer he had you on the other line.

“now can i ask you something?” you asked and heard it again, the wet noise and his heavy breathing.

“g-go ahead,” he stuttered, mouthing a curse word as he failed to keep his composure.

“are you,” you cleared your throat and sat up a little in bed, “are you touching yourself?”

eddie practically felt his heart stop. his breath caught in his throat, his cock ached, but he secretly wanted this. he wanted you to ask, he wanted you to hear, he wanted something to remind you of the words you spoke to him that night.

“i, uh, no i, just, i was uh,” it was too late. eddie couldn’t come up with an excuse, and as he felt fear in his heart and mind that you’d get grossed out and never talk to him again, you cut him off before he could embarrass himself anymore.

“are you touching yourself to me?” your voice turned erotic within seconds, sounding like the same voice that cried when you came around his cock.

he just breathed in through his nose, hearing the tone and letting himself get dragged back to those memories that replayed in his mind. “yeah, i, i’m sorry i’m a fucking pervert, i just, i was doing it before you called and, i dont know, i just, i can’t stop thinking about that night and,”

he rushed it all out while taking small pauses in his own embarrassment, and waited for you to say something in return.

“i like it.”

his words stopped, but his hand only kept up his rhythm and gained more confidence with the situation.

“what about kendall?” he breathed, only out of respect. he didn’t really care.

“what about him?” you grinned behind the phone.

you already had plans of breaking it off with him, knowing you couldn’t get eddie out of your head from that night. but nothing in you felt sorry enough to not entertain eddie right now, not after you’d spent all evening thinking about him.

“he can’t fuck me like you did. just didn’t feel right picturing my best friend when he fucks me,” your voice got low, sultry and seductive in attempt to make him go along with it.

“fuck,” eddie huffed, his cock aching for your walls again, “you don’t even know how much i keep thinking about you, about how you looked when i was inside of you,”

you shift to lay on your back, pushing the blankets off of you quickly and letting your fingers trail down your body to your mound. you teased yourself lightly, letting your finger run between the fat of your pussy lips and pushing it in between to feel the slick of your cunt, spreading it to your throbbing bud.

“i miss it,” you whined, “didn’t know how to tell you i wanted you to fuck me again without being weird,”

“oh sweetheart,” he groaned, looking down at his cock and imagining it was your hand that was stroking him, “i wouldn’t have to even think twice about it, i’d do whatever you asked me to, you know that.”

you grinned, closing your eyes to hear the bass in his voice, listening to the words he spoke and felt your hole clench around nothing. you widen your legs more, letting your cunt spread and moving to rub circles on your clit.

“really? you’d fuck me again if i asked you to?” you gleamed with joy, loving his admission.

“because i really really miss you. and your dick, and your fingers. i missed feeling you stretch me out,” you whined in a moan, and eddie swore he could hear your slick through the phone.

“fuck baby, are you playing with yourself right now?” he asked and moved to sit against his headboard, spreading his bare legs to fuck his fist again.

“mhm,” you moaned, your fingers teasing your hole and prodding it with your fingertips, “need it too bad, need you to fuck me right now eddie,”

eddie was tempted to hang up the phone and drive over the immediately, nothing stopping him from going to fuck you until your shaking on his cock. but something about this, something about hearing each other touch themselves to the other person, something about the tension of being best friends and you having a boyfriend — doing something that isn’t right over the phone just added to both of your arousals.

“baby,” he said, massaging over his tip in the way that you did, “i’ll be over there in ten minutes if you really want it, i’ll do anything for you,”

you moaned at his words, feeling your arousal drip and leak down your ass as you decided to slip your fingers in with a gasp.

“yeah? you’d come over right now and fuck me?” you asked, now eddie was able to hear your cunt squelch around your fingers.

“fuck, you’re so fucking wet, yes i’d fucking go over there right now, i, i promise i’ll fuck you all night,” he grunted, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to hold up the phone with his other hand. he spit into his palm again, and moved to rub it over his tip.

“i can just imagine what you look like right now, playing with your pussy and trying to reach that spot you know only i can reach, not even your fucking boyfriend could do,” he spit, his cock throbbing in his grip as he bucked up into his fist, “fucking useless, can’t even make his poor girl cum on his dick,”

you whined, pushing further into your cunt and flexing your fingers, trying to fill yourself like he did, “wanna be your girl eddie, want you to be the only one i touch myself to, the only one who can make me cum on your dick,”

he nearly growled, picturing you begging for him on your knees to fuck you, give you what you deserved. the image alone was sickening, making his stomach pull and tighten at remembering how you took his cock and cried for him.

“you are my girl, baby. always have been, i mean i could’ve told you that.” he chuckled hoarsely and you giggled, fingers still trying to fuck your cunt like he did.

“thought you already knew you were mine when i fucked you in the mirror, you didn’t see how fucking sexy you looked taking my dick? looked like you were fuckin’ made for me, wished i took a picture just so i could show you again.”

eddie didn’t know where this confidence was stemming from, not knowing how he even had the breath to talk to you like this but you were fucking loving it, you could feel your cunt gushing around your fingers like you’ve never felt before.

“tell me baby,” he said, feeling his release sting at his lower tummy, “how many fingers are you stuffing inside that pretty little cunt?”

“only two,” you cried, letting your cunt clench around your fingers.

“play with that clit, rub her for me, yeah? wanna hear how wet you are for me, alright baby?” he said into the speaker, slowing his hand down on his cock but still slowly stroking.

“okay,” you whined and opened your eyes, looking down at your hand as you pulled your soaked fingers from your hole and rubbed up to where your clit was.

eddie’s breathing was harsh, and he tried to quiet himself so he could hear the wet sounds of your cunt — and he was successful.

he listened to the same sounds he dreamed about ever since that night, he listened to your small whimpers and whines through the phone, the same ones that made his cock stiffen in a heartbeat.

“fuck, she’s so fucking wet for me, all for me, wish i could feel you on my dick again. you don’t know how fucking bad i wanna fill you up, how fucking bad i wanna see you cream all over my cock again,” he was panting at this point, and so were you as you rubbed firm circles on your clit until you felt tingling all over your body.

you were vibrating with pleasure, your body jerking and squirming on the mattress as you inched closer to your release and listening to eddie on the other line pant your name, and tell you how good you sound.

you could feel your back practically sticking to the sheets from your sweat, the feeling of heat creeping up your neck and down your body until your thighs tightened and squirmed.

“tell me you want me to fuck you again, tell me how bad you need me inside of that sweet cunt and i’ll come over there baby,”

“fuck eddie, please, need it, need you to fuck me and fill me up again, you’re the only one who can make me cum,” you blabbered as your arm got tight, fingers rubbing sloppier circles on your clit and between your pussy lips.

your eyes were screwed shut, remembering the way eddie fucked you from behind, watching you in the bathroom mirror. it was too much, too erotic, sending your cunt to clench as if he was inside you.

“that’s right baby, that’s my pussy, right? your boyfriend can’t fuck you like i can, so you need me to make you cum, make you feel real good, isn’t that right?” his words were so sharp, only sending shocks of pleasure through your body until you felt your hole clenching continuously around nothing.

his confidence was growing as he heard you fuck yourself, to him, for him. he was practically edging himself at this point, on the verge of cumming for you the more he heard your whimpere ring in his ears.

“yes! yes! need you eddie, only you, i’m yours baby, please make me cum,” tears were prickling at your eyes, your body heating and started to sweat as your legs squirmed to keep them held open.

“let me hear you cum for me, cum for my dick sweetheart and i’ll be over there right now, fuck you til’ the morning,” you couldn’t registar much over the slick sounds of him fucking his fist and the way his breath stuttered.

you could only imagine how he looked, almost hunched over with his dick in hand wet and sloppy just for you. you imagined how he’d feel again, remembering the way he filled you completely without even bottoming out completely. you even thought about how many times he’d jacked off to you in the span of your friendship and it only made your hips buck into your palm.

“gonna-fuck-gonna cum, eddie ‘m cumming,” you cried as you rubbed a few more sloppy circles on your clit, and feeling your lower tummy heat up as you came.

your orgasm took over your body, not having had a feeling like this since you fucked eddie. your limbs were limp and relaxed as they shook with pleasure, and you could feel coldness inch its way up your spine as you cried into the phone.

you could still hear eddie moaning and groaning at hearing you release, and you heard how he fucked his fist through the phone as he started to release.

“that’s it baby, sound so fuck, sounds so fucking pretty for me,” he stuttered, his balls taut as he let go of his shaft and watched as his cock jerked and shot ropes of his cum on his abdomen.

it was messy, just like yours was, his cum coated his tummy entirely and dripped down his sides. he didn’t realize how bad he needed to cum for you until tonight, seeing his own mess and thinking of yours. the way your cum dripped out of your hole and down between your asscheeks, eddie was craving to see it again.

his grunts were enough to send another jolt of pleasure through your body, and you moaned again as your wet fingers trailed up your tummy and rested there.

your eyes got heavy, feeling as if you were high on something and your limbs went numb. but still, something was missing.

“fuck baby,” he breathed, looking at the mess he made on himself and watching his cock start to soften.

“are you still gonna come over?” you asked softly, fixing the phone to your ear and becoming more aware of the sweat on your body.

“uh, hell yeah!”

TAGLIST

@awilderi @nerdieforpedro @cyb3rluvvxx @joelmillers-girl @pedritoferg @bethanymccauley @dirtydianaahah

comment if you would like to be added to my taglist! thank you for reading!

674 notes · View notes

farfromstrange · 1 year ago

Text

Halloween | Matt Murdock x F!Reader

PART 5 of The Vault

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Matt hasn't been paying attention to you lately. So, on Halloween, you decide to try and get his attention in a way he can't refuse.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), Dom!Matt, choking, praise, degradation, unprotected p in v, no foreplay, slight orgasm control, mentions of oral sex, use of "good girl", Matt looks like a bore in the beginning, there is a stranger who can't take a hint, a very common Halloween costume, protective!Matt, cliché tropes

Word Count: 4.7k

A/n: This is... well, let's just say that you can tell that it was written a while back and then rewritten in parts by Me today because the smut lacked depth, BUT I do kind of like it. It's a Halloween fic, so apologies about that. For this, I got inspired when I bought my "I'm Not Daredevil" sweater in 2022. Plus some general horny thoughts during my first Kinktober on Tumblr that I didn't participate in (2022). I hope you like it anyway.

He hasn’t paid enough attention to you lately.

Between work and the nights spent protecting the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, he is hardly home. He tries to be, but he fails almost every time. The bed is starting to grow colder, and his scent lingers only half-heartedly in the atmosphere. You miss him. You miss his touch, his skin, his voice but most importantly, you miss the spark. It has been two weeks of Matt being slumped, but that is more than enough to drive you crazy.

When it gets colder outside, you need your boyfriend by your side, to hold you and cherish you like he usually would. You miss being desired by someone. You miss being the center of his world. Not that you want him to ignore his responsibilities forever, but just for a few hours, you want him to yourself wholeheartedly. Missing him when he isn’t gone is the worst feeling, and it often leads to tensions in your relationship.

Matt can be so selfless that it sometimes starts to look and feel like he is being selfish by going after what he deems to be right. He doesn’t realize it though, not until he is hit over the head with it and suffers a concussion.

As Halloween rolls around the corner, having an absent boyfriend grows into a problem you can no longer ignore. And you don’t want to, either.

Karen decided to throw a party, and she sent out invites to her closest friends months ago to make sure everyone could somehow fit it into their schedules. She has invited everyone she knows and encouraged those to bring their friends as plus ones. Costumes are mandatory.

Halloween used to be your favorite holiday, but this time, you aren’t even sure if you can make it to the party without getting pitiful glances because your plus one has to be busy—the plus one that Karen also invited separately because he is her colleague and friend.

Matt doesn’t seem to care much about Halloween, especially not this party. Even though it’s not only important to Karen but to you, he has expressed how much he doesn’t want to go because he can’t neglect his Daredevil duties for one night. Not right now.

When you reminded him a few weeks ago, he told you that the 31st of October is boring and overrated, kissed you, and then you both went to bed.

You decided that night that it was time to use a different set of weapons. If Matt knew, he would go crazy, but that is what you aim for. You want him to go crazy. Crazy for you.

The first step of your plan sounds easier than it is: convince him to come with you.

“You going to Karen’s party?” he asks you one evening before going out into the night.

You answer curtly, “Yeah.”

“Got a costume?”

“You know I do.”

His lips curl into a smirk. “Are you going to let me feel it? Or do you want me to guess?”

“I want you to come with me.” You help zip his Daredevil suit back up. “I want you to put the mask down and come with me. Karen invited the both of us,” you say. “She’s gonna be asking questions.”

If it’s the disappointed cadence of your voice or the fact that he’s curious about what you’re going to wear, you’re not sure, but when he suddenly agrees, you’re taken aback. “I’ll join you guys later,” he murmurs. “Right now–“

Your excitement falls flat again. “The city needs you. Yeah, I know.”

You’re starting to grow sick and tired of that sentence. He doesn’t deserve this. He is trying his best, and you act like a needy child. You’re angry while he is saving lives and making sure the streets are a little safer. But you stood by for weeks without complaining once that you felt a bit neglected. You always show him unwavering support. Even now, you want nothing more than for him to do what he needs to do, but you do so with a bitter aftertaste. And a lot of misplaced jealousy.

Not having him close is torture. You need him. Even dressed in protective red leather, he looks too hot to handle, and that makes you crave him even more.

You brush off the ache in your core and focus on getting him dressed for the night. You don’t want him to get hurt.

“You going to wear the costume?” you ask.

He cocks an eyebrow. “You mean the sweater that says ‘I’m not Daredevil?’”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on, it’s a joke only the four of us will understand. It’s perfect!”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he says, his unfocused eyes darting up toward the ceiling. “I just… How about I just put a suit on and say I’m James Bond?”

“Please?” You wrap your arms around his neck.

He sighs warily in response. “Will you tell me what your costume is?”

“No,” you answer plainly.

That’s the second part of your plan; wear the most revealing costume you could wear, and drive him crazy when he does appear at the party and hears you mingling. When he smells your bare skin, and when he realizes that you’re getting all the attention he should be giving you.

“Please,” he copies your pleading tone, lips pursed into a frustrated pout. The conflict in his eyes is not yet covered by the red mask.

He’s contemplating. For a moment, he considers staying. He wants to spend time with you; he wants to go to the party and have fun. You love Halloween and he would do anything to make you happy, but he can’t. The city is busier than usual. Louder. More intense. His ears can’t seem to catch a break. He tries to focus on you, to tune out the noise, but he fails miserably every damn time.

He doesn’t sleep, not much, and he barely eats anymore because he drowns himself in work so deeply that he forgets his basic needs. He just needs it all to stop. He has to go out to get some semblance of relief—to fight, to get his fists bloody, and come home exhausted enough to get a few hours of shut-eye before the cycle inevitably repeats itself.

It has been like this for weeks now. He is always overstimulated, always overworked; he can’t even kiss you sometimes because the thought alone burns his skin. It hurts that much.

He isn’t going to stop. You know that. You understand, but even the devil’s advocate grows tired sometimes.

You’re so tired of the distance. You are so tired of him not talking to you when something is bothering him, and you’re tired of having to pretend it doesn’t bother you.

Still, neither of you want to start the conversation. It’s a series of petty attempts to gain attention, a constant tiptoeing around each other until one of you caves.

You peck his lips. “You come to the party, you find out,” you say. “You don’t, I guess I’m showing all of this ass for nothing.”

His ears perk up. “You’re what?”

“Nothing,” you wave him off.

“No, what did you just say?”

“I said you should come to the party.”

“After that. Is it—I swear to God if you’re wearing something short…”

“Then what? You gonna drag me home and spank me?” You scoff, trying your best to hide the fact that this is exactly what you want him to do.

The silk of your dressing gown hits the floor. It’s time to play even dirtier than before. Your plan is made to be adaptable, after all.

Matt stops breathing. “This isn’t fair,” he growls.

You smirk. “You should go.”

“You’re torturing me, you know that?”

“You decided to go out tonight,” you counter.

“Because I have to.”

“Do you?”

He curses under his breath, “Fuck. Okay, whatever game you’re playing, sweetheart, I need you to stop.”

You’re nowhere near satisfied. In all of your naked glory, you take a step forward. “Or what?”

“Or,” he says, and his voice lowers barely above a dangerous whisper, “I’ll stuff your cunt with my fingers until you’re begging me to come. And then, just when you’re about to, I’ll pull away and leave you to take care of it yourself because I know you won’t be able to come without my help. That’s what I’m gonna do if you keep teasing me like that.”

Your jaw drops. You’ve got him right there, with his teeth buried in the hook, but he knows that if he lets the trap fall shut, you win. This isn’t just a desperate attempt at getting his attention anymore—you’ve got that now. This is turning into a game.

Matt smirks, hearing the uptick of your heartbeat. He thinks he’s so smart. Reaching out, he cups your bare pussy with his rough palm, eliciting a sweet moan out of your mouth that shoots right to his cock. “Already so fucking wet for me,” he purrs.

His touch feels like electroshocks shooting right into your bloodstream. It has been way too long, and you’re already burning for him before you can even fight back.

You want to beg him to keep going, but as quickly as he has put his hands on you, he retreats again.

Matt marvels at the feeling of your slick between his thick fingers. He takes a whiff. Your arousal is so prominent in the air that his face contorts in agony. And then, he slides the digit into his mouth. Your distinctive taste explodes on his taste buds, and he moans, “Delicious.”

The show he’s giving you is utterly erotic, and it takes everything in you not to drop to your knees and take his aching cock out of his suit.

Pressing his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, he whispers, “I’ll see you later.”

He’s gone before you can protest.

He’s not the only one who has tricks up his sleeves though, and you’re more than ready to seek your revenge later tonight and finally get what you so deeply crave from him. He has to let go eventually, and he has to pay attention to you for longer than five minutes. You both need it.

Dressed in your costume and with a bottle of liquor, you make your way to Karen’s apartment. You’re determined to make this night last. Well, at least long enough for Matt to arrive, and then it’s showtime.

Your friend greets you with a welcoming hug. Her small living space is already crowded, and you make your way through toward the table with the drinks. You can feel several eyes on you. Without your coat on, the costume you’re wearing leaves little to the imagination. You wonder if Matt can smell you across the city, wherever he may be right now. Maybe he does, and maybe he can tell what the thought of him is doing to you. Maybe he can tell that this is exciting you and he will cut his patrol short tonight. But you know he isn’t paying attention to you. He only does so when he fears that you’re in danger.

“And who are you supposed to be?” a low voice asks beside you.

You turn to find a tall guy dressed as a werewolf approaching the punchbowl to your right.

“The tag said ‘slutty witch’,” you answer. “But I find the term a bit… problematic, so I’m a witch who likes to wear very short clothes on very cold days.”

He chuckles. Underneath his makeup and the fake fur, you can’t make out his features, but it’s not like you care anyway. “Well,” he says, “you’re a very beautiful witch.”

Oh, now he’s flirting with you.

Your plan for tonight includes mingling to draw attention to you and make Matt jealous when he gets here, not flirting with strangers. You would never do that to Matt. You also don’t feel the need to flirt with anyone who isn’t your boyfriend, even though the attention does make you blush for a moment— mostly out of discomfort.

You’re not interested in this man. Werewolves are only your type when they’re fictional, and even then you will always prefer your devil over hairy mythological creatures.

You take a sip of your drink. “I accept the compliment,” you say. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” the man answers. He takes another step toward you. “Are you here alone?”

You take a step back. “Yes, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Playing hardball, huh?”

“No, actually, I’m just not interested.”

“Nah, I don’t believe that. Is it another guy? It’s a guy, right? It has to be a guy.”

You glare at him. “Why? Because you’re so hot and irresistible and can’t take no for an answer?” Your voice drips with sarcasm.

He leans toward you, and he’s getting dangerously close to your personal space. “You think I’m hot. You said it,” he says.

Thankfully, he turns around to pour himself a cup of punch before touching you against your will. You wouldn’t hesitate to snap his neck like a twig.

Your heart is pounding as the adrenaline mixes with fury in your veins. You forget about Matt and the fact that you dressed like this for him. He will appreciate it, and his opinion matters most to you. You just hope that this guy will leave it be so you can join your friends on the other side of the room.

“No offense, dude,” you tighten your grip around your cup, “but I think I’d rather be anywhere but here.”

Karen and Foggy are mingling somewhere, and you know that you’re definitely safe with them.

The werewolf smirks. “Can I come?”

Before you can tell him off, the very thing you thought wouldn’t happen happens.

“I believe the lady said she’s not interested,” Matt pipes up behind you.

So he was listening to you from across the city. His locked jaw is an indication that he is fuming inside. More than fuming. He’s about to explode.

Oh fuck.

He appears next to you, and one look at him makes you beam. He is wearing the red sweater with the big, white “I’m Not Daredevil” written on it. He even put on the antlers.

The werewolf takes a good look at him when he wraps his arm around your waist, and he finally retreats. “She’s all yours,” he says.

“Yeah, she is,” says Matt. You can’t see his eyes, but the rest of his face is expressive enough to give the other man a faint idea of what he is capable of. As innocent as he may look, he isn’t.

There’s a certain dominance he carries that could make any grown human being weak in their knees. You are the only one who would voluntarily do so and thank him, and beg him for more.

Once the werewolf has disappeared, Matt turns you toward him. His feral demeanor slips for just a moment. “Are you okay?” he asks softly. He cradles your face in his hand, his thumb brushing your cheekbone, and you once again find yourself on fire.

For you, he put the costume on. For you, he came. And everything you have been struggling with these past weeks while he was absent feels so stupid now because he has been trying from the start, you just didn’t want to see it because you were so upset and needy.

You nod weakly, leaning into his touch. “He was just…weird,” you murmur. Reaching out, you touch his sweater. “You’re wearing the costume.”

Matt shows the faintest hint of a smile before it completely fades from his face again.

“Yeah,” his answer is breathless. “But what the fuck are you wearing?” His hand slips from your waist to your exposed thighs with a low growl. A shiver ripples through him.

“A costume.”

He brushes over your ass, and there is hardly anything there to cover the fishnets you’re wearing. If he grips a little tighter, he will hold your flesh in his hands. Just a little lower and he will touch your wet cunt. Your scent is overwhelming, and the feeling of your skin in the crowded room makes all the lights in his brain go dark as they burst. He’s already so hard in his jeans.

“Was this your plan all along?” he asks. His grip on your cheek tightens, and the other hand grabs your ass. “Get me to come with you just to hear your thighs brush against each other? To smell how wet you are with barely any fabric covering your pussy? Did you want me to bend you over in front of everyone just so I’ll touch you? Are you that desperate?”

You’re in trouble. Big, big trouble—and it’s exactly what you wanted. To be fair, it stands in a slightly different light now, but it’s Halloween. Things always go differently than planned on Halloween.

You swallow thickly, fluttering your lashes at him as innocently as you can. “You’ve been so busy,” you confess, “and I just missed you. I missed you so much, baby. I had to do something to get your attention.”

He bares his teeth. Those gorgeous teeth behind those gorgeously plump lips. You can only imagine them on yours. You can only imagine what it will feel like to have him between your thighs now, wildly licking at your slick folds while thrusting his skilled fingers in and out of your cunt. God, you want that. You need it. The thought alone is enough to make your thighs clench, and you cross them. You’re positively dripping.

“Listen to me,” he demands, and his grip moves to your chin. “You’re going to finish that drink, alright? You’re gonna drink up, you’re gonna say goodbye to Foggy and Karen, and then we’re going to get out of here so I can fuck that feeling of inadequacy right out of that beautiful head of yours. Are we clear?”

You stare into your reflection in his glasses. The blood is rushing in your cheeks. You don’t trust your voice; all you can do is nod.

“Good girl.” His hand drops from your face.

You’re shaking. Your knees are weak, and your legs feel like jelly. You breathe and you live solely for him. He has a power over you that is almost embarrassing to admit to.

When you try to down the rest of your punch in one gulp, Matt stops you. By slowing you down, he’s teasing you. You suppose that you deserve it, but you’re not sure how much longer you can wait.

It takes an agonizing while for you to finish your drink, say goodbye to your friends, and call a cab. Matt keeps his hands to himself. It’s so unlike him, but it gives you an idea of what’s to come, and the anticipation is killing you.

The door to his apartment hasn’t even fully shut behind you when he flips you around and pushes you against the wall, chest first. He does it with such force that your palms burn upon landing. You gasp.

“You’ve been teasing me all night,” he rasps into your ear. “I put this costume on for you. To be nice. If I’d known you would make it your mission to make my dick hard in front of dozens of people, I would have fucked you before going out tonight.”

You know that he wouldn’t have, but the thought still sends shivers down your spine. Not a single coherent thought is left in your mind.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t–” you break off into a moan.

Your tights are torn in two by his eager hands, and you moan when he pulls you back against his hard cock. You can feel his straining against your pants against your now bare skin. You want to reach out and touch him, but he won’t let you.

And then, his palm lands flat on your bare ass cheek. He doesn’t even bother to take the rest of the costume off.

“You didn’t mean to?” he asks. “Are you sure about that?”

You buck your hips. His dark chuckle grazes your ear.

“Answer me, sweetheart.”

“I meant to,” you cry out when his hand comes back down on your red ass cheek. It stings, but the pain shoots straight to your middle where it settles in your needy core. “And I don’t regret it.”

“That’s better.”

“Please.” You don’t know what you’re begging for, but this aching emptiness is driving you crazy. You need his cock, and it’s becoming pathetically obvious.

Matt gives your backside another slap before pressing you further against the wall. “Don’t ever doubt that you’re the most important thing in the world to me,” he says. “But slutty witch? You know what that does to me?”

You can’t help but smirk. “Yeah.”

He tears the underwear under your skirt in two.

“If you want to be a slutty witch,” he presses his lips to your ear, “then act like it.”

Without a warning, without preparation, he thrusts into you. Your lips part in a lustful moan.

Matt is relentless. One arm wraps around you, the other around your throat. He thrusts his hips upward, filling you to the brim with his cock. He pulls out just enough to move past your G-spot and directs the tip of his cock toward that spongy spot that makes you see stars.

His name tumbles from your lips like a mantra. Matt, Matt, Matt…

Your chest deflates. The corset of your costume is so tight, you can’t breathe. Your nipples ache underneath the fabric. They want to be free. They want to be touched.

“Matt,” you beg.

He doesn’t hesitate to open the ties at the front, pulling you free from the metal cage.

The air gets knocked out of your lungs. He tightens his grip, locking the oxygen in your windpipe. Skin slaps against skin, moans fill the air scented with the stench of sex and every time his cock penetrates your tight walls, he pushes you further to the edge of the precipice.

From around your waist, he moves his arm down and his hand to your pussy. He catches your clit with precision. His thrusts speed up. They hit deeper and harder, and your eyes roll back into your head.

Matt, Matt, Matt…

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he grunts. “Such a good little slutty witch for me, sweetheart. Push back against me.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You move your hips back to meet his thrusts. He lets out a moan of his own, digging his teeth into the soft flesh of your shoulder.

“That’s it.” He rubs in rapid circles over your clit. Your body is begging for a release.

The wall feels cold against your heated forehead. His fingers tighten around your throat again, causing you to clench around his cock. He twitches. You can feel every desperate drag of him inside of you, and he only keeps on giving you more, and more, and…

Your hand finds his against against the wall. The warning of your impending orgasm gets lost, but he doesn’t need verbal confirmation for something that he can feel every time he thrusts into the walls of your cunt that are hugging him so tightly, he is holding on by a thread.

As if to distract himself, Matt lands another harsh slap against your bottom. “Who do you belong to?” he asks, feeling the flesh jiggle under his touch.

You moan. “You, Matthew. Only you!”

Your screams of pleasure are music to his ears. He repeats the motion of his hand. You will have imprints on your skin tomorrow, and he will proudly feel them before you have to go to work. Leaving his mark on you is an exciting thought.

His balls tighten. He won’t last much longer if you keep squeezing him like that—if those thoughts keep popping into his head, and he barely manages to keep himself from coming right then and there, coming deep inside of you and fucking his cum into you until you#re overflowing.

The pain from the sloppy spanking—he isn’t capable of seriously hurting you—floods your system and your pussy at the same time, amplifying the lewd noise echoing in his otherwise silent apartment. With the added wetness, the circles he rubs over your clit with his calloused fingers become impossibly faster. The sensitive bundle of nerves starts to scream; you can barely take it anymore, but you need his permission to come. In this scene, at least. You must always wait for his permission when he punishes you like this.

You have a safe word for a reason, but you’re too blissed out to care. You love what he’s doing to you. You love how it feels, and you love how well the little pain he introduces you to every time mixes with the pleasure that consumes you whole.

He buries his nose in your neck. You smell of sweat, salt, and his shampoo. It makes you feel better, you told him. To him, it’s a sensory dream. You complete him, and your scent complements him in ways he doesn’t fully understand. All Matt knows is that it makes him feel good, and not just because he gets a little possessive sometimes. It’s a warmth that runs deeper than the words of the English language could describe.

Again, he flicks your clit. “I want you to come,” he finally says the five words you have been waiting for. “I want you to come all over my cock, and I want you to scream my name so this entire city knows who’s taking care of you.”

Your pussy clenches around him again, and with a shout, you come undone. Your legs shake as the coil in your lower stomach snaps, tearing down your walls. You spasm, and you cry out his name. No feeling could ever be as powerful as the orgasms that Matt manages to give you. They are like tsunamis, and they know no mercy. They are a force of nature that no one can control. You know it will happen, but you never know the force of it until it happens. And every time it does, you feel like you’re floating in a world far from home where only he, his godly hands, and his cock exist.

Matt fills you with his cum after a few more sloppy thrusts. He comes hard, and it doesn’t seem to stop for quite a while. He’s leaking onto your thighs at this point, but the stickiness is only another reminder of him, and it makes you feel warm inside.

With your breathing slowed to a more acceptable pace, you allow yourself to lean back against him. “Wow,” you mumble.

He catches some of his cum from the inside of your thigh. “Yeah,” he says. “Wow.”

You greedily open your mouth. The salty essence of him spreads over your tongue. He’s the only man whose taste you would carry with you proudly for days.

The kiss Matt delivers to your cheek is sweet.

“Did you like my—”

He cuts you off, “Yeah. Too much.”

“But it did work,” you say.

“You could’ve just talked to me.”

You look over your shoulder, you notice that he’s still wearing his costume, minus the glasses. His hazel eyes are full of hurt. Shame. Guilt.

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t think you’d listen.”

“I always listen,” he says. “Even when you think I don’t.”

You whimper at the loss of his cock when he pulls out. Matt doesn’t turn you around right away, and for a split second, you fear that this will turn into an argument.

Instead, he sweeps you up into his arms.

“Don’t disappear on me again,” the plea is whispered directly into his ear.

His hold on you tightens, carrying you toward your shared bedroom. “I won’t.”

“Thank you.”

“I love you.” The sincerity in his voice lights the candle in your soul that threatened to go out.

You answer without missing a beat, “I love you too.”

“Do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

Matt throws you down on the mattress. “Keep the costume.”

Halloween might just become his favorite holiday, after all.

Matt Murdock Smut Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x you #no y/n #daredevil #daredevil x reader #charlie cox #from the vault

250 notes · View notes

calmcoldevening · 11 months ago

Text

You had a bad day [Michael Myers x reader]

You had a bad day, a really bad day. It was cloudy outside, just like you're feeling at the moment. You had a headache after your boss's hour-long screams about how you did the job wrong; you got soaked in the cold rain; besides, your phone was dead.

Finally, you cross the threshold of your house, sighing in amazement. Dirty shoes remain at the doorstep while you slowly walk towards your room, simultaneously pulling off clothes stuck to your body. You climb onto the bed, burrowing into the blanket, and quietly sob. It was disgusting in my heart. It didn't help that you wanted comfort so damn much, but you were alone in the house. You didn't know where Michael was or how he was. He just wasn't there. He had been home quite rarely lately, after all, Halloween had passed not so long ago and Michael was still continuing his 'work'. But you missed him now. You wanted his clumsy, rough, but so warm hugs.

Michael wasn't the best guy. He was always silent, only occasionally nodding or shaking his head in denial, but he never spoke. Michael was never the first to make contact, but only stood in the doorway, looking at you through the black holes of his mask in mute expectation. He always did that when he was hungry.

And yet now you wanted to be the one who was looked after, cared for and loved. You sobbed softly, burying your nose in the cool fabric of the blanket. I wanted to disappear so that it would all be over.

After a good half hour, when you were already on the verge between sleeping and waking, you felt a pair of rough hands on your waist, squeezing your tender flesh. You instinctively flinched at someone else's touch. Your mind was wandering in terror. Exactly until you heard the familiar heavy breathing on the other side of the latex. Michael. It was your Michael. A stone fell from your soul when you breathed a sigh of relief, allowing yourself to relax. All this happened in a split second, when you finally realized that the guy initiated the touch himself. He was hugging you.

"Michael?" You ask quietly. Your tired voice breaks the tense silence like a knife. The man frowns, pulling you closer to him. He doesn't like your voice, the mood you're talking to right now. You were usually gentle and said his name with such love and care that his dead heart melted and seemed to start beating again. In those moments, he wasn't a Boogeyman, he was Michael. Your Michael. But now your voice was quiet, as if you were speaking with some kind of pain. Michael didn't like it. His broad palm began to stroke your stomach with amazing tenderness, while the nose of his mask gently rubbed against your bare neck. Like a kitten.

Transparent droplets of tears appear in your eyes, slowly flowing down your pale cheeks. It seemed that the whole weight of the last few years fell on your shoulders in an instant. You're shaking. The pain in your temples and aching heart make you cry like a little child. Michael tenses up. In an instant, you are turned over and you find yourself with your face pressed against Myers' chest, his chin on top of your head. His hands are holding you to him with a bit of desperation, stroking your back. You grab the fabric of his jumpsuit, so rough and old, like a lifebuoy, burrowing into his body in search of peace and relief. Your eyes are burning with tears, and your chest can't take a full breath of air.

"..it's not my fault.. However," you whisper softly, trying to keep the remnants of your composure, "It wasn't my job.. but the director thought otherwise. He.. He yelled at me. Strongly.. he was so angry, although my colleague is to blame.."

Michael's measured movements gradually slow down until his big hand leaves your back, leaving this place to be torn apart by the cold of the room. But then the loud breathing stops, and after it you feel Michael leaning back, putting something on the bedside table. The next moment, a pair of cracked, dry lips touches your forehead, leaving a rough but so familiar kiss on your skin. You don't dare to look up, but your sobs gradually slow down, turning into muffled sobs. Now the man's hand finds your place on your cheek, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. He is surprisingly gentle, as if you are a real crystal figurine made of pure glass.

You are his heart. Michael had never known what love or caring was before. His childhood and youth in a psychiatric hospital were filled with pain and alienation, from which he learned to hide from the rest of the world behind a solid mask of indifference, behind the mask of a monster. And yet, with you, he wanted to be real. It was difficult, and Michael didn't always know how to behave. But now, seeing you crying, something inside Michael tightened painfully, making him frown and clench his teeth. He didn't know why he was angry and didn't know why he felt that way. The only thing Michael was sure of was that he wanted to punch the face of the one who made you cry.

Finally, you calm down, letting out a nervous sigh from your lungs. Michael tenses up for a moment, but his heart skips a beat when he sees you visibly relax in his arms.. Are you happy? His stroking resumes when he wordlessly tries to persuade you to sleep. You obey, snuggling into his chest and closing your eyes. The man's gaze softens, his lips seem to twitch in a slight hint of a smile.

This will be one of those rare occasions when Michael stays with you all night. But he definitely thinks he should visit your boss the next night.

I just needed a little comfort from my boy. Have a good day ♡⁠

#slashers x reader #michael myers imagine #michael myers x reader #michael myers x you #michael myers

190 notes · View notes

aesthetixhoe · 2 years ago

Text

spooky flirting — E.L.

warnings: underage drinking? (you and ethan are 19), cursing, scaryyyyy movies ;)

word count: ---

pronouns used: she/her, reader wears a dress

request: “Hey! I saw ur ethan landry headcannon ab e’s fav holiday being halloween and was wondering if u could do a fic where the reader and him bond over their love of halloween or something similar! xx ” ily sm for this idea nonnie! <33

might make a part 2, let me know if you guys want it!

Parties sucked. You always interrogated yourself on why you even went to them, you always ended up slightly drunk, with some random dudes number in your phone because you were too nice to decline, and a slight hangover. You could say it was because you were trying to have fun, meet new people, maybe hookup with someone. But if you were honest, you didn't know.

You sat on a couch, red solo cup in hand, slowly sipping whatever was in it, until a very blocky costume came into view. Your interest peaked, you looked over at him. It was a boy from your econ class Ethan... Laundry? Loundry? Something like that. He was wearing a knight costume, made fully out of cardboard. It made you smile.

Normally at frat parties it's just guys half naked. Like the one who walked in with Ethan, who was wearing a hat, ascot, and shorts.

“So Ethan, who're you gonna hit on tonight?” Chad hits Ethan's chest while he asks.

“W-what? No one!” He stutters out, turning red. How could Chad talk so freely about hitting on someone?

“C'mon man, you're a snack!” Chad yells over the music. “What about her? ” He nods over to you. Your costume, your hair, your face, everything about you made his eyes widen and his mouth drop into a small, open mouth smile.

“Woah...” His admiration of you made his cheeks flush further.

“I'll take that as a yes bro!” Chad smiles. His face falls when he sees the look of panic on Ethan's face.

That is until he realizes the cause of panic is simply because you're walking over. “Look! She wants you too dude. I'll leave you two alone!” he drags out the last word while walking away. Ethan is left alone and panicked, seeing how you haven't changed your course of direction.

“Hey, I like your costume! Did you make it?” You shout over the music. His eyes avoid yours, almost as if he's trying to convince himself that you're not there.

“Thanks!” He yells back. He looks so scared.

“Did you make it yourself?” You ask, moving behind a wall so you can hear his response.

“Yeah! I made it like 3 hours ago.” He laughs, his eyes crinkling as his smile gets wide. He looks so beautiful.

“Really? That's awesome!” You exclaim. You nod towards the door, hinting that you wanted to go outside.

He followed your lead, moving outside and sitting on the porch of the house. You could finally hear each other without having to shout. “But yeah, I made it. I really like Halloween so I knew I wanted to do something handmade, but my room mate, Chad, didn't give me much of a heads up... That's why this isn't the best looking.” He explains, looking at his lap and playing with his fingers.

“Hey, I still think it looks awesome! Like your helmet? That has amazing attention to detail dude. Who knew a guy could be good at economics and art.” You snicker under your breath. He looks over at you bewildered for knowing you two shared a class. Sure, you didn't know his last name, but you knew he was Ethan, he was cute, and he was good at econ.

“You know we have econ together?” He asks quietly, almost as if he was asking it to himself instead of you.

“Yeah, I know you're Ethan... Something... I know it is like Laundry but not quite!” You say, embarrassed you don't know his last name.

“Landry...” He blushes.

“Well hello, Ethan Landry. I'm [Y/n] [Y/L/N].” You stick out your hand to him, which he hesitantly grabs. His hands are warm. “So you like Halloween you said?” You ask, trying to make small talk.

“Yeah! I uh... Actually went through a small cosplay phase where I made my pieces myself...” He trailed off, letting go of your hand as he gets embarrassed. “Yeah, Halloween is my favorite.” He says simply, and sadly.

“Mine too!” You nudge him with your shoulder. “There's no reason to be embarrassed around me, by the way. I think it's cool you used to cosplay, I kinda always wanted to.” you smile sweetly at him.

“I don't like to think about it...” He shyly laughs.

“I really like your laugh...” You think aloud, catching both you and Ethan off guard. You clear your throat, trying to move on quickly, “So, what's your favorite Halloween candy?”

“I like chocolate, so basically everything is good for me.” He jokes for the second time tonight. He was starting to get more comfortable with you, and you were really happy about it.

There's a beat of silence where you're both just looking at each other smiling. He had such pretty eyes. And lips... And face.

He leans into your ear and whispers in your ear “So [Y/n], what's your favorite scary movie..?” Yup, he was definitely getting comfortable. His breath was hot against your ear and cheek, giving you goosebumps.

This was a huge step out of Ethan's comfort zone. He never flirted with anyone. Let alone a very attractive girl like you.

“I uh... I don't know, would you wanna watch a scary movie with me sometime?”

“W-What?” He looks at you, falling back into his flustered self.

“Yeah! You could come to my place, I have Netflix, Hulu, all of ‘em. No pressure though, if you don't want to that's ok!” You preface looking up at him, awaiting a response.

“Uh... Yeah. Ok.” He smiles small, playing with his fingers again.

“How about tomorrow?” You ask him while pulling out your phone.

“Yeah, that's good for me.”

“Ok, type in your number and I'll text you my address.” You explain while giving him your phone. He smiles to himself, cheeks turning a light pink when he notices that for the contact name you've typed in “Ethan :)” He was smiley face worthy.

After you've taken your phone back, you stand, ready to say goodbye and leave. He was a touch sad, realizing what was about to happen. He really liked talking to you. He didn't want it to be over.

“I'll text you when I get home! See ya tomorrow Ethan.” You call out, walking backwards away from the house.

“Bye!” He smiles. God you were beautiful.

He just stood there, looking at the spot you were sitting in a few moments ago.

“Yes dude! I knew you had it in you!” He hears a familiar voice shout out from behind him. Ethan's head drops fully, groaning.

“Chad, shut up!”

#imagine #fluff #ethan landry #x reader #ethan landry x reader #scream6 #screamvi #scream #scream x reader #scream6 x reader #screamvi x reader #jack champion #jack champion x reader #hoe's requests

638 notes · View notes

c0la-queen · 5 months ago

Text

Harrowing Night | Viktor x Reader

Okay, I know I promised a drabble, but I've spent hours elbow-deep in the muck of League of Legends lore trying to figure shit out that I completely lost the motivation to write something complicated. However, I still have Thoughts that I want to share with you all, so I will post them in the form of Cola's Ramblings.

So, the only Halloween equivalent event I could find was something called Harrowing, but I noticed halfway through my research that this event was actually part of the old lore and is no longer canon. However, I am Not A League Player so I'm simply choosing to Ignore This.

From what I could find, it seems like Harrowing was a Ionian event that was spread to Piltover and Zaun through the Ionian refugees. (Again, I don't know how accurate that is, don't get mad at me if you actually know the lore please)

In my opinion, even though this holiday started out as a day of fear and caution, Piltover - as Piltovans are wont to do - takes this concept and decides to polish it until it shines as golden as the city itself. Instead of hiding away in their homes in fear of the dark, they decided to keep the spirits away by having fun. So, every October 31st, the throw a festival in the city plaza. There's lanterns, food and hot drinks, games and activities, music, and, of course, costumes! And they call this new version of the holiday Harrowing Night.

Reader absolutely loves Harrowing Night. She and Jayce, as childhood best friends, spent every Harrowing Night together. When they were young, they'd slip away from their parents' grasps and run off hand-in-hand to scope out what that year's festival had.

This excitement didn't fade away as they got older.

So, when October came around this year, your excitement steadily grew. You spent all month discussing costume ideas, trying to settle on the perfect one.

Then, the fated night arrived. As soon as you were done helping the boys out at the lab, you raced home to your apartment to get ready. As the sun sank below the city line and the sky turned from red-orange to inky indigo, you couldn't help but pace nervously. Jayce was 30 minutes late to pick you up. Where was he? Was he okay?

When you heard a knock on your door, that dwindling excitement built back up. You raced to the door as fast as you could, throwing it open and starting to berate Jayce for being so tardy -

...when you noticed that it wasn't Jayce. At all. It was Viktor, wearing comfy clothes and looking like he had just rushed over to your apartment last minute. (Had you ever seen Viktor in anything other than his Academy uniform?)

Viktor was having a hard time forming a coherent sentence. He had come over to your apartment in order to bounce some ideas for HexTech off you - something he'd started doing at your daily lunches together, something that he found helped him process his thoughts better. He would say this, but how could he say anything when you were standing there, looking even more beautiful than you already were? The costume you had chosen this year was an angel costume. You were wearing a knee length dress with your arms completely exposed - far too exposed for how cold it was outside at this hour - feathered wings with gold embellishments, and a matching halo headband. You'd done your makeup, something you didn't do often, and the glittery golden eye shadow really made your eyes pop. For the first time in Viktor's life, he was speechless. You were... ethereal.

He was broken out of his stupor when he heard that you were waiting on Jayce. Jayce? Ignoring the little pang of jealousy he felt (he hated it. You and Jayce had grown up together, and he was the newest addition to your lives. Of course you preferred Jayce over him.), Viktor was perplexed. You're waiting on Jayce? He asked. Jayce and Mel left for the festival an hour ago.

He hated how heartbroken you looked as that information set in. Viktor quickly realized what was happening. Jayce had ghosted you and taken Mel to the Harrowing Night festival without telling you. A hot flash of anger burned through Viktor.

In Zaun, Harrowing Night wasn't exactly celebrated. Plenty of Zaunites believed in it, but there was no grandeur to it. It was a quiet night where families placed jack-o-laterns and other wards in their windows and doorsteps in order to protect their homes from the spirits wandering about.

But Viktor knew that this night was important to you. You'd been rambling about it to him all week, telling him stories of the shenanigans you and Jayce would always get up to during the festivals throughout the years. You always had that sparkle in your eyes that he so adored.

The fact that Jayce, your best friend, did this to you? It infuriated Viktor. He thought that Jayce knew you best - a thought that had made Viktor bitter several times before - but he was quickly realizing that either Jayce didn't know anything about you or he just didn't care.

You didn't deserve that. You didn't deserve to be sitting in your apartment on your favorite night of the year, trying to hold back tears to keep yourself from messing up your makeup.

Viktor wanted to fix it. He was an inventor at heart. He took things that were broken or damaged and rewired them, restored them, and made sure they worked again. He was going to make sure he succeeded with you, too.

So, Viktor tells you that he'll take you to the festival instead. He may not be as passionate about Harrowing Night as you are, but he's passionate about you. Er... about your happiness. If that means biting his tongue and going to an overrated Piltie festival with you? Dammit, that's what he was going to do.

He even put on the stupid devil horn headband that you had bought for Jayce, that way you two were in matching costumes.

Viktor had to admit... the festival was pretty neat. While the music was a little too loud, he enjoyed the hot spiced cider that he had been sipping on while walking around the plaza. There were people in costumes everywhere. Little kids, parents, couples, and friends. The air smelled like cinnamon and apples.

But most of all, Viktor enjoyed your excitement. It was like he was getting a glimpse of your younger self, coming back out of hiding to partake in the nostalgia and joy. The warm lights of the lanterns made your skin practically glow and reflected in your eyes. You'd gotten several compliments on your costume, compliments you gave back with fervor to the other costumes you saw. It didn't bother Viktor as much as he expected it to - you'd worked hard on your costume, you deserved the recognition. Besides, how could he complain when you were hugging his arm as you two walked, your warm chest pressed to his forearm as you nibbled on the funnel cake fries you'd picked up.

Yes, you enjoyed yourself thoroughly. Until about an hour in, when you'd turned a corner and spotted a little crowd gathered around a particular booth. At the center of the crowd, soaking in the attention, were Jayce and Mel. They were wearing matching costumes - your matching costumes. Jayce had taken the concept you'd come up with for you and him and decided to use it with Mel. Even more heartbreaking, Mel's costume was much more breathtaking than yours. Her wings were bigger, her dress was more beautiful, and her golden makeup and jewelry shined brighter than yours. She looked like a goddess.

Viktor wanted nothing more than to beat Jayce over the head with his cane. He knew Jayce could be a bit thick sometimes, but this crossed the line into self-centered asshole territory. Unfortunately, he had to ignore that murderous rage in order to focus on you fully. With a "Let's go" whispered lowly in your ear, he nudged you away from the crowd and away from the festival. He had an inkling that you wouldn't be able to enjoy the festival anymore tonight, and his leg was starting to ache. It was time to go home.

Still... he couldn't stand how dejected you looked as you sat on your couch, unstrapping your wings. The night was still young and he had nothing else to do that weekend, so he - quite demandingly - ushered you off to your bedroom to get comfortable. In the meantime, he set up the living room with blankets and a few snacks and drinks from your kitchen. He even dimmed the lights and lit an autumn scented candle he found on your coffee table.

That's when you returned, dressed in warm, comfortable pajamas. Hair loose, makeup wiped off. The setup made you smile, looking at Viktor with a grateful expression. He could see the faint redness to your eyes. His job wasn't quite done.

You two spend the rest of the night tangled together on your couch, draped in blankets, watching different seasonal movies. You rested your head against Viktor's chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and you smiled. Maybe this Harrowing Night wasn't so bad.

As the credits of the third movie you watched rolled, Viktor noticed you'd fallen silent. He glanced down, blinking in surprise when he realized that you'd fallen asleep against him. As your chest rose and fell with your steady breathing, Viktor smiled. Maybe he could learn to love Harrowing Night.

#arcane #viktor arcane #viktor x reader #arcane x reader #cola's ramblings

22 notes · View notes

onim5 · 5 months ago

Text

🎃An Angel In The Demons Claws🎃

Portgas D Ace x Reader

🎃Halloween special🎃

Warnings: Um, eh, just read at your own risk. But I doubt you find this horrible and bad.

No mention of your gender.

-------------------------------------

Ace flew around his white pure wings, folding up and down as he took off again from the ground. Finally, entering around the white clouds, he started spinning and doing various moves. It was just for fun, but then the clouds darkened. And that only meant one thing. A demon.

Ace stopped immediately and tensed up. He knew it was stupid to fly around in clouds because it's so easy for an evil power to sneak up one. He hadn't been an angel for long, Marineford was, after all, only a few months ago. The clouds turned even darker, and then lightning struck down on him. The scream of pain he let out echoed, and it tore clouds slightly apart. The lightning had hit him right in between his wings, and now, he felt himself go unconscious. The cold air around him was clearer now since he fell, having it surround him.

You grabbed one of the angels' pure wings, piercing through it with your claws. What a stupid little angel. He should have flown out of the clouds as fast as possible. It's a better chance of survival in these situations. Lifting the poor angel a little higher, you inspect it.

"Ace. . . . . . . ." You mumbled, recognizing him from a time when both were alive. He had given you your last meal. And if he hadn't, you would have died of starvation. Groaning, you let go of his wing and placed him in your arms. His unconscious form hangs loosely, so you tighten the grip slightly. He was pure, handsome, and freckled. He was just as beautiful as he was when alive. Floating down on the ground, you began walking instead. It didn't take long until you arrived at your own stronghold.

Ace's eyes slowly opened, and the first thing he noticed was the warm chest he laid against. Groaning, he lifted himself up slightly, but then he got pressed down by an arm that laid over him. Though his delicate wings were over the arm, so as not to hurt them in any way. It didn't take long for him to realize he lay on top of a large demon. Feeling his fear, you also woke up. You sat up carefully to make sure Ace wouldn't get hurt.

"What do you plan on doing with me?" Ace asks. He didn't stutter, but you could feel his fear in the air. You took him and placed him in your lap.

"Are you gonna eat me, enslave me, burn me, or maybe torture me?" He hiss, knowing that's what demons usually do to angels they captured.

"Sleep." You groan tiredly, grabbing him again and placing him under your arm as you laid down on your stomach. Your powerful and sharp claws laid out before his head, in a way forming bars like a cell. Ace glances over you. It was hard in his position, but he got a good view of your face. Why is it familiar? The hours went by, and all you did was sleep. It took long, but eventually, Ace recognized you from seven years ago. You were just a hungry little child. Well, he was also a child, but not a hungry one. So he gave you some food that he had found in the forest. He had planned on continuing feeding you, but you disappeared.

Upon recognizing you, he let sleep take over him, figuring you to recognize him. It was nice laying next to you since you're so warm. . . . . It was a nice reminder of what it felt for him when he had his flame powers. . . . .

------------------------------

Masterlist

Halloween specials

#one piece #portgas d. ace #one piece x reader #fire fist ace #portgas #portgas d ace #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace x y/n #onepiece #one piece ace #one piece halloween #halloween special #one piece portgas d ace #onim5 #angel Portgas D ace x demon reader #Portgas D ace x gn reader #portgas d ace x gn reader #gn reader

21 notes · View notes

cissyenthusiast010155 · 2 years ago

Note

Hello☺ could i request a Larissa x 18+student please?

S and Larissa realized they were attracted to each other and even tho it's wrong, they decided they would "release some pressure together" (without feelings and everything). But each time they had sex, feelings started to grow, but they don't want to end what they have so they don't tell each other. One night, Larissa wants to try something new (strap) and when S was about to cum, she asked Larissa to hold her thight and kiss her, Larissa wasn't sure if she wanted to do that because she knew what it meant, but decided to do it. And then when S came, S said "i love you so much". Larissa was shocked (because they didn't want that to happen) but end up telling her she loves her too.

I hope you like it and want to write it☺

Heyyy there anon! Ofc, I’d love to write this for you 💕 I incorporated a friends to lovers vibe as well as a bit of angst… 😏

More than just Sex ~Larissa Weems xFem Student!Reader

Mommy…Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, implied eating out, d!ck riding, love confessions, bit angsty, age gap (all legal), friends with benefits, friends to lovers, etc…

Enjoy (;

You walked into Larissa’s office after a long school day to find her on the phone. You sat down by her desk and ran through your phone while you waited for Larissa to finish her call.

“Sorry about that Darling, how was your day?” Larissa asked, once she��d finished your call and hung up the phone.

You put your phone down, giving your attention to the blonde sitting across from you, “Pretty average. You?”

“Same. Buuut, it could be a lot better if you used that skilled tongue of yours…” Larissa purred with an edge of lust in her voice.

You chuckled as you came around her desk to the stunning principal and dropped to your knees.

“Anything for you, My Queen…” you toyed with your lover.

~~~

It had all started a couple months ago when the semester had just begun.

You had been attending Nevermore for years and knew Principal Weems well. You also knew yourself well, so you weren’t ignorant of your feelings to the tall principal. But you had had these feelings for years, and you weren’t about to act on them now. Even though you were 18 now…

The year had started as normal as one would expect. Larissa had gotten everything prepared to a T for the new semester. And eventually the students arrived. And you walked into the school… She had always liked you, but this year that attraction shifted. Larissa could feel her attraction had grown out of hand, but she was determined to keep it handled.

But all of that was thrown out the window at the Halloween Bash. Larissa and you had both drank a bit too much and eventually you had confessed almost everything to the other in a secluded corridor.

That night had started with Larissa kissing you against a column and had ended with you both completely naked and in Larissa’s private quarters.

From there, you were both concerned about you being a student and Larissa being the fucking principal. But you both were quick to admit that staying away from each other wasn’t an answer. So you both simply defined your relationship: you were fuck buddies. Plain and simple. No dating. No feelings. Just sex.

And that’s how it was. For months. Until everything slowly started to fall apart…

~~~

At first you thought you could ignore all the signs. The butterflies… The longing for her at all hours… The jealousy you felt when other flirted with Larissa… etc.

But walking back to your dormitory after your most recent meeting with the blonde principal, you left with a pit in your stomache.

You knew what this was. It was feelings. But you didn’t want to admit that to yourself. You couldn’t admit that. To yourself or to Larissa. It had been slowly growing over time, the more you and sex with the goddess of a woman, the more you fell for her…

You sighed, wanting to rid all and any thoughts regarding this, so you simply went to bed.

~~~

A week went by and you ignored Larissa out of ignorant guilt. On Friday evening, you got a text from the blonde…

Sorry I’ve been so busy lately… Got a new toy for us to try (; Meet me in 10?

You texted back,

You Bet (:

Before getting up to go meet Larissa in her private quarters. You entered her office thought out knocking and went straight to her attached private quarters. Upon entering and locking the room, your brain completely short circuited.

Larissa was standing next to the bed, unpinning her curls while in a deep scarlet lingerie set, but most importantly, she was also adorning a brand new purple strap on…. You gulped and we’re at a loss for words.

Larissa met your gaze and smirked at your dumbfoundness, “Well… What do you think…?” she purred, making her way towards you.

“I think I’m wearing far too many clothes…” you whispered, and then you immediately began stripping in front of the blonde.

Larissa’s eyes widened the more skin you revealed. Her lips quickly crashed into yours as desperate hands tore off your clothing. She kissed you all the way to the edge of the bed and allowed you both to fall onto it. Larissa backed up to the head board, and spread her legs to for you fill.

“How about you ride my dick, hmmm darling…?” Larissa purred with a lustful glint in her eye.

You bit your lip and nodded eagerly, coming to straddle her form. But before you were able to line your soaked cunt up to her massive dick, Larissa halted you by kissing and sucking on your pressure point. She then grabbed some lube from the night stand and graciously coated the plastic dick with the lube.

“Wouldn’t want me to split you in half, now would we…?” Larissa teasingly purred, as she then grabbed your hips and aligned your aching pussy with her member.

“Please Larissa please…” you groaned out.

You sunk down on Larissa’s cock with a guttural moan. Suddenly this all felt really vulnerable and intimate. You looked up to Larissa and you swore you saw something besides lust.

Once you had adjusted to her filling you up, Larissa helped you start to ride her. Strings of moans and cries flowed from your desperate lips. Your climax approached quickly and in an overwhelming nature.

“M’mm close… God Larissa…!!” You cried out and then smashing your lips into hers.

This kiss was different as well… It was more heartfelt and caring…

“Doing so well for me, baby… cum for me…” Larissa moaned into the kiss.

“It’s too much…!! Hold me…?” You whimpered out, not thinking straight.

Larissa parted from your lips for a moment and stared at you as if she was contemplating something. As if she was also thinking what you were thinking about constantly…

And she apparently decided that it was worth it. As her lips smashed back into yours and she took you fully in her embrace, rutting up into you and causing you to spill over the edge.

“Holy—Fuck! I love you so much…!!” You screamed, as you toppled over the edge on top of the blonde.

You hadn’t even registered the words that had come out of your mouth until you had come down from your high. But it was very apparent very quickly after that. Larissa had stopped all administrations and was staring at you, mouth agape.

You wanted to take it back. Say “No I’m sorry, it was a mistake!!” But nothing came out…

You gulped and looked down in shame, taking yourself carefully off the blondes dick. Larissa then went out of the room, and for a second you were concerned she was just going to leave… But she didn’t. She came back with a warm washcloth and helped clean you up. All in silence.

Eventually, the silence became unbearably awkward as the two of you were just sitting on the bed, staring at each other and then glancing away quickly…

“I’m sorry…” you managed to whisper out, but not being able to meet her gaze as you spoke.

Larissa head swiveled back to meet your gaze at your words. Her eyes were glossy and waves of emotions tore through them.

“I… I love you too…” the blonde quivered, stuttering to say such a vulnerable thing.

You were taken aback. What…?

Larissa then scooped your up and pulled you into your embrace, her lips ghosting the shell of your ear, “I love you too…” she repeated, “and I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to admit it…”

You melted into her embrace, tears beginning to flow from your eyes. You stayed in each others arms for a while, Larissa cradling your form and whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

~~~

Larissa Weems Masterlist

299 notes · View notes

soranihimawari · 1 year ago

Text

120 beats per minute

word count: tbd

pairing: reader x osamu// reader x atsumu

rating: t/m for lor love triangles and sibling violence

it's a funny thing, love. this emotion causes joy, anger, anxiety, so why does your best friend's brother stand before you with a soft smile. a warmth radiating off of him when his hazel graham cracker eyes which match his hair dye chooses to take you in, disheveled hair and all, and spots someone who deserves this sort of rendezvous too. miya atsumu is out of breath and has such a cross expression like he's about to go off on you for no reason, but his words fail him the moment you leap into his arms and he catches you.

ok, maybe if we start at the beginning, you'll completely understand why he's there at your house in an unholy hour of two in the morning.

[[twelve hours ago]]

you leave school in the sunshine afternoon of a day. there is a letter that falls into your school bag. a girl friend of yours invites you the karaoke club. what you didn't know was it was going to be a club building exercise between a few single guys from the volleyball club and your jazz band club. your best friend, the one whom you've been claimed to be inseparable since you were seven. imagine the look on your face when you see him canoodling up to one of the other girls in the group at the couch in the karaoke room. it's your turn to sing and you sing" la vie en rose" in a shaky voice. your eyes don't leave the spot on the couch when the girl from your group stakes her claim on with your best friend's lips. if there is a moment in time your best friend could hear your heart snap it must be the equivalent when your microphone drops to the cushion in the crescendo of the song. you rush out, no word or excuse of an apology. the boys sort of cheer on their teammate's liplocked confession, but two people in the room, your girl friend and one other teammate raises their brow.

you're home when your friends the girl who had invited you and the other teammate decides to text you together. both of them are apologizing saying that you didn't deserve it. they comfort you in their empathetic facetime call with you.

"y'know until that hussy kissed 'samu-kun, i thought he was gonna sit next to you," your girl friend from class nods.

"yeah, yeah!" a miya with blonde hair says. he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of the nose. "my brother is a bit of an oblivious dolt."

"a bit?! my closest friend these past three years whom you've quite literally grew up with yn-san and your brother locking lips with the biggest slut of the year!"

"guys, guys," you sound a little defeated about it. "it's ok. 'm sure 'samu liked her too."

you speak no more of this incident, rather after your friend hangs up first, the older twin brother of the young man you learned to like, suggests something gnarly.

"i like you, why not date me instead?" he's still on facetime and he hears you sniffle once, then twice, then he calmly expresses his brother might be an idiot, but for what it's worth: "i can be greedy too."

"but that's not fair to you," you say, all ounce of rationality makes your heart stutter a bit.

"osamu's an idiot," atsumu retorts. "how can he possibly not adore you?...and in case you've forgotten, yn, i've known you for the same amount of time--i've loved you for longer, trust me. i'm on your side. i just want you to win."

you say nothing as you let atsumu's words both stun and linger in your mind. it stirs something ancient in your wounded heart and immediately, flashbacks of your childhood with the twins play in realtime. for every scrape, ouchie at recess, every tear his brother had by proxy caused, atsumu was there bandaging you up with neosporin, giving you a piggy-back ride home from the playground, made you laugh by inserting jellybeans on his canines on halloween thus chasing you until you fall in his room side by side with him laughing into the night. love, you realize is a double edge of sword.

come the weekend after the karaoke mess, osamu and atsumu are rumoured to have an awful fight in the gym locker room. apparently the rumor was atsumu cornered his brother and charged him the crime of breaking your heart and soiled your self-pride. suna has it recorded the moment aran and kita walk in to the twins being pulled apart. osamu has as bloodied nose and atsumu has a busted lip:

"at least i was honest with my feelings ya scrub! how could you not know?!" atsumu's voice is quieter, angrier.

osamu shakes his head. "how can i when ya always make 'em smile?!"

the twins fought about twelve hours ago, but without warning, you awake to a rapping at your front door. the blue light of the netflix show you were watching were now adding an ethereal glow behind you. your box of tissues after watching the latest episode of a popular k-drama your cousins turned you to for heartbreak. you heard a familiar harsh, yet gentle voice you recognize as belonging to atsumu.

neither of you say anything as you pull back the door further, only to glance at him all aglow with a thin layer of sweat in the cool autumn night. it's a funny thing, love. this emotion causes joy, anger, anxiety, so why does your best friend's brother stand before you with a soft smile. he doesn't even speak your name, yet those memories from earlier replay in your heart of hearts you throw yourself at him and his arms hold you closer to him.

"hi sweetheart," his voice is breathy and deep.

"s'late," you whisper against his skin before he puts you back down to the concrete again.

"i know, but i needed to see you."

"want to come in?"

"maybe some other time," he plays with your hand before raising it to his face, which turns into you cupping his cheek until his breath catches up to him. he breathes normally for a few moments, he tells you about the fight word for word.

"are you alright?" your concerned worried eyes search his face for more minor injuries before you relent after he assures you, he's fine.

"jus' my lip is all," he chortles a little. "what's that pout for?"

you shake your head before standing on your toes to have your lips press against his. you don't have an explanation why you kissed him so when you pull away, his cheeks are a soft hue in the moonlight.

"'m sorry, did that hurt?" you ask and before you could receive an answer, the boy ahead of you smashes his lips on yours.

your hand on his face slides down to his chest, clutching the fabric of his pajama shirt the more you let him kiss you; his hand on your waist, the other cupping the back of your head, he leads you into opening your mouth a little more when he runs his tongues over the grooves of your lips. you gasp a little when you taste the mint of his toothpaste and he licks the salt on the corner of your lips from the tears you cried watching another kdrama recommendation (he knows your routine when something heartbreaking happens in your life).

it's two in the morning, you and miya atsumu have since declared that the hour is meant for the romantics whose heart beats quickly rise to 120 bpm.

[[bonus scene]]

you wake on the couch when you feel atsumu's hand brush back your bangs to tuck them behind your ear. it's a strange habit he developed over the years ever since the autumn of your second year.

"morning sweetheart," his hard g's at the ends of his words still cause your heart to flutter.

you, on the other hand, turn to smile at him from where you slept. someone else pitter patters up to you both, the reason why you slept on the couch in the first place and the reason why you have a row in your fridge dedicated to juice boxes.

"papa, why's da ray o' sunshine on our couch?"

"because," you speak up, stifling a yawn. "ya little gremlin took over my side of the bed!"

the kid runs after you made a monstrous, playful growl, and for what it's worth, the faux blonde who gets to witness this exchange the morning after coming back from an away trip with his team, just counts his lucky stars you answered your door that night. laughter fills the halls and they reach an all-time high with atsumu walking to see you scoop up the proof you two have of your love. the tyke holding on to you saying that they were sorry in between the giggles and kisses you give them; your lover in the doorway leans against it, swears he’s never had his heart this full.

“atsumu, c’mere,” you beckon him as the kid settles down and you maneuver your hold on the child to have them on your hip. with your free hand you smile at him when you trace over that small scar on his lip now nearly a decade old. you and osamu might have made up at the wedding shower, but knowing you were always going to wind up a ‘miya’ was predicted by your family and theirs. the kicker was when you stood in front of atsumu since everyone swore osamu was never going to let you go, but he did. that’s the funny thing falling for both siblings at different stages of your life: osamu was more of a puppy-love, yet atsumu, who seemed to glow like a solar flare, set your soul ablaze with the chemistry he provided you.

currently, atsumu stills breathing ahead of you, pressing his lips on the pad of your fingers before your shared child hides his face in your neck declaring: “papa! just kiss the monster and make ‘em pwetty again! ah miss sunshine!”

a chuckle is heard from you before atsumu kisses you quietly matching his lips to yours on this delightful morning.

you whisper, “i love you, g’morning.”

he in turn, tilts your face up again lingering his lips over yours before humming a quiet, “i love you and i will always remind you how you shine like starlight.”

you took a leap of faith when you kissed him at seventeen years old and now? now, the future has been bright ever since.

#🌻— flying around collecting pollen—queue #sora after hours #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #miya twins! x reader #reader x oblivious!osamu #atsumu x reader

51 notes · View notes

eponymous-rose · 2 years ago

Text

I was thinking about something that happened about ten years ago - I've talked about it here, but not for a while.

(tw: plane crash, death)

In college, I was close friends with a fellow student named Mike - we had all our classes together, we worked on every project together, we hung out at cafes and made big plans and drew comics in the margins of our notes to make each other laugh. He wanted nothing more than to be a pilot. The last time I saw him he and I and our group of friends were walking down some unused railroad tracks, knowing it was the end and we were all going our separate ways, excited and melancholy in equal measure.

I went off to grad school in 2010; he became a pilot. He flew supply runs in Antarctica, an absolute dream. He shared pictures of every flight he was on: spectacular vistas, impossibly remote places.

I moved to the U.S. in the fall of 2012 for my PhD. There I met some lovely people right off the bat; a somewhat intense woman who confessed to Facebook stalking me once she heard we were going to be in the same office, who introduced me to her awkward-but-sweet boyfriend, also in our graduate program, and promptly invited me to her birthday party to be held two weeks after meeting me. A quiet woman from Brazil who I uncharacteristically approached after class when I noticed she was looking a little down; we chatted and she confessed to feeling lost after moving so far from home, especially now that her husband had moved back. A cheerful woman with a bubbly personality who struck up a conversation with me as we walked between classes.

We realized our Brazilian classmate had never done a US-style pumpkin carving, so when Halloween rolled around I awkwardly invited everyone I'd met thus far to my apartment for just such an activity (where I met the bubbly woman's high school sweetheart, an entertainingly stoic contrast until we got to know each other better). I liked this group of friends, but I didn't know them particularly well, so when my birthday rolled around in January of 2013, I was a little hesitant when they announced they'd throw me a party, but I was cautiously looking forward to it.

Then I got word that a plane Mike was on had crashed in Antarctica.

At first, the news came through piecemeal - he might not have been on the plane, he was on the plane but they were pretty sure it had just made an emergency landing and due to weather they couldn't confirm, but then it was several days in a row of rescue missions being called off again and again due to dangerous weather. In the end, around midnight on my birthday while I was nervously messaging one of our mutual friends and refreshing the news pages, it was confirmed that the plane had been spotted and the crash was not survivable; not even his body could be recovered. I had to convey the news to my friend via text.

It was really devastating as my first (sadly not last) real experience with a death like that, inconceivable and impossible to prepare for and with so little closure. And then I got a message from my group of new friends - they knew what had happened and were okay with calling off the planned party that day, but if I was up for it, they wanted to see me and get me something good to eat and distract me for a few hours.

In spite of the voice inside that told me to wallow, I went. And - I tear up just thinking about it - laid out on the table at my friend's apartment was my name spelled out in cupcakes, with a little Canadian flag in a vase, and it was so cheesy and sweet and heartfelt that I couldn't help but be charmed, distracted from misery. We had a great evening! We ate great food and chatted long into the night.

And for that, and for so many other things, all of their names are engraved on the walls of my heart. I don't mean to make it sound transactional - they did this for me, I would do anything for them, that kind of thing. It's unconditional, it's a realization that near-strangers did something fundamentally kind and I have in turn been given the incredible gift, again and again, to do kind things for them in turn.

I've since been unfathomably lucky to have found another group of friends, the (in)famous Movie Night Crew, who similarly rescued me three years ago when Mom died and Hector died, and that's a story I can't tell yet because it still hurts. But I'm incredibly lucky. I just am.

That group of friends who sat around the table of cupcakes with me after Mike died are still very dear to me, and I'm leaving on Friday to attend one of their weddings (with the exception of the Brazilian woman who is on the other side of the planet being incredible, all the others will be there, including the bubbly woman and her stoic high school sweetheart, now married and part of my weekly D&D game!). As a shy and awkward kid, all I ever wanted was to be a good friend. To have been given these riches of opportunities to learn to be just that... I can't fathom how I got so lucky.

Sappy? Sure. But I hope everyone reading this gets a chance to find that kind of love. It radiates.

#eponymous text post tag

66 notes · View notes

iturmom · 5 months ago

Text

i've had a rough day. i made a new kitty friend just a few days ago. he's so sweet and friendly. he's talkative. but this morning he was being playful and he bit me a little too hard. he did break skin but it's the tiniest little nibble, only even one of his fangs broke skin and it was barely to the point that i wasn't even sure he did. but he's a stray, i'm sure of it bc his ear fungus and the sores on his body.

so i spent the whole day making phone calls trying to figure out what to do so i finally got through to the rabies nurse at the city health department and he told me of course to either get a rabies vaccine or call animal control so they could monitor him for 10 days. i can't afford to go to the er when i'm pretty sure he doesn't have rabies cause he doesn't seem at all rabid and i don't know if i can monitor him myself for 10 days bc i don't know when i'm moving but it seems like less than 10 days and he's a stray how would i know if he just didn't show up one day? i'm moving soon so i can't spend all day outside looking for him i'll need to pack and clean. and i've got other stuff going on too. i wanted to spend today preparing for halloween and cleaning and cooking food so that i didn't eat too much of the food for tomorrow and i wanted to make more food for tomorrow. and i wanted to hang out and watch spoooy stuff. but i couldn't think about anything else until i found a solution, so spent all day googling and making calls.

so i ended up calling animal control and that was a mess. the guy had me try to put the cat in a cage instead of trapping him with bait. he scratched me up good and i was so scared that he wouldn't trust me anymore but he came right back to me and he was all over me and it killed me when he nibbled me not once but twice bc he was so gentle when he nibbled so so gentle feather light nibbles barely there. and i was sobbing bc if he had just bit me that gently in the first place then today would have gone so much better for both of us! so then the guy finally brought out the live trap and the wet food. the poor kitty freaked out in the trap poor thing poor little guy.

the whole ordeal took an hour and a half of agony. i sobbed on the phone to my partner scared they might put him down and just about the trauma it caused him and how if he had just been so gentle the first time! i probably drove him crazy saying that over and over. but the animal control guy told me they won't put him down, and he even said he would request that they trap and release him without me even asking! so hopefully he'll just bounce back from the trauma. my partner made me get off the phone cause we have a big day tomorrow of going to the clinic (i can still go to the one at the homeless shelter for free for another year) since the rabies nurse at the health department said i should get antibiotics they can do that much at the clinic and maybe they might even have some resources for a rabies vaccine surely not at the clinic but maybe they can help me somehow wishful thinking. and then after the clinic we're going to celebrate halloween at my place so big day he forced me off the phone cause i was still hysterical. but he actually texted me back for a while which he never does when we get off the phone for the night. but i was still texting after he finished responding and i finally gave him the good news which i'm not sure that he was totally aware of cause he only heard my side of the conversation when i was on the phone with him while talking to the animal control guy, so i put into plain words how he said he'd request tnr and the hopeful declaration that maybe he'll just bounce back from the trauma before too long. and then i realized. i told my partner i was going to take him to meet the kitty tomorrow morning when he came over for halloween. but now he won't get to meet the kitty bc i'll certainly be moved before the kitty gets released.

and then i smoked a cigarette that i found on the ground recently. i haven't smoked a cigarette in over a year and at that point it was already rare that i smoked. that realization really made an already brutal day even worse. it like punched me in the face.

#i am having such a hard time processing what has happened today #there are so many choices i made and i regret all of them and i can't figure out which was wrong #i am sore all over and i'm running on 4 hours of sleep since 5am and i was so proud i woke up so early just to lose the entire day #i wanted to do something with my day. i just wanted to hang out with a kitty my new kitty friend and it ruined my whole day and maybe week #i need to go to bed but i made a cup of peppermint tea after my cigarette to rehydrate comfortably without caffeine #so now i need to stay up longer cause liquid before bed but maybe showering will be calming and then i can wake up a little later #but 6 hours of sleep isn't enough after running on 4 hours for an exhausting day #someone please tell me what i did right so i can feel better. or tell me what i did wrong i need to make sense of today #but i can't i'm too exhausted and it was such a cluster fuck of insanity i'm still reeling from the whirlwind i've been through today

3 notes · View notes

discodeviant · 2 years ago

Text

HARRINGROVE WEEK, DAY 4: Eighteen | Teen | 2.9k

SURPRISE: The Projection Room at The Hawk

How Many Candles on the Birthday Cake: 18 years old

Specific Dialogue: “I don’t need another friend.”

Thank you to @shieldofiron for assuring me that the intro didn't suck lol <3 Came from a separate idea I had a while ago and never did anything with, so I hope you enjoy it! 😚

Read on AO3

King Steve…

A burden so heavy that it kept his head down when he was finally single again. Even the freshmen had already been told about him, and they wanted him just as much as the other seniors did. Until October, at least, when they realized just how lame he’d become. But that was high school, and the girls didn’t matter. Nancy didn’t matter; they were still friends anyway, so not all was entirely lost. Steve still had pieces of the crown preserved by Tommy for a while, and then even he turned out to be low, and the king had no subjects.

People weren’t so interesting, then. His best friend was a middle schooler he babysat for 2 hours on weekdays and some Saturdays. Jonathan was an acquaintance at best, someone whose reputation was never high enough to care about it falling lower after his brother had gone missing. He rolled his eyes at the pity thrown his way; if it were Steve, he’d have gone mad. But those days, no one regarded him either, and skipping out on parties doubled his time at home alone to look at himself in the mirror and think he’d lost his charm entirely.

It was February when he looked at Billy Hargrove with more than disdain.

“Hey, man.”

Before, Steve tried not to look at him at all even in the classes they shared, but Billy found a way into his field of view anyhow. He answered the questions that Steve got wrong with just enough edge to keep his attention. He talked too damn much in gym class, and Steve always left with a pulsing headache. He shot spitballs, shoulder checked, knocked Steve down more pegs than he could count—since fucking Halloween.

And then, one day, one cold, sunny Tuesday, he didn’t.

Steve’s heart dropped a little when Billy Hargrove didn’t tease him at their lockers that morning. No spitballs, no shoulder checks, no more pegs. Steve had lost the last piece of his crown to Billy’s silence, and maybe it had never really been there to begin with. He hadn’t slept like a king since the night Barb drowned. In his pool. At his party—his last, artificial little get-together before he was riddled with guilt and nightmares that led him to isolate even more. He wasn’t going to college or getting hitched at nineteen like his parents did, and now he wasn’t even worth Billy’s daily torment. The fall of the king. He felt like a tragedy.

“Don’t wanna deal with Bravo either, huh?”

That was one of many days he’d been weighed down by the dense, foggy storm-cloud in his head. Zoning out since he woke up, voices blending into fuzz and lights making his eyes throb with the dull ache of an oncoming migraine—he skipped History to go outside. Under the bleachers by the running track where no one would see him close his eyes, rest into his palms, remind himself to breathe before he couldn’t. A moment to stop thinking about Billy and all of the reasons why he wasn’t worth Steve’s time either. He was crass and rude and cocky as all hell. His face was too intense when they made eye contact, that smile too wide when he shoved Steve into the the gym-mat wall. Billy played with his hair too goddamn much, and Sometimes Steve wondered what it felt like. No one had curls like that in Hawkins.

Somehow it turned out that his innermost demons had gone to haunt him anyway when he recognized that golden glint through the cracks of the stand. He stood and peered through, careful in case Billy noticed his presence because the guy seemed to have a nose for him. For a second, Billy looked over towards the bleachers, but his head turned back around. He scanned the track, walking quickly with a force in his step that Steve had only seen him with a few times. His fists clenched, and he tossed his bag on the ground by the starting line. Kept his jacket on to stay warm. Stretched a little. Took a deep breath. Ran like hell.

Steve’s head throbbed even worse looking out in the sun. Suddenly he was burning up even in the cold. Billy hadn’t changed out of his gym clothes, still in green shorts and a sweaty t-shirt. He held a steady pace but remained tense for a while, past the bleachers where Steve pulled back into the shadows so as not to be seen. His heart thrummed. Billy’s frame shrunk in the distance the further he went around the curve, then closer when he came back for a second lap. Steve dipped back and leaned forth again. It was too hot. He was too hot, and he had too much energy. Billy hadn’t seen him all day, so maybe he wouldn’t notice then either.

Steve thought he was right when Billy didn’t answer him. “I, uh—honestly didn’t really… get what the book was saying last night. You know, I… I start reading, and it just… poof!” It was harder to run in jeans than if he’d also stayed in his gym clothes, but it wasn’t his plan to follow Billy down the track in a sprint before matching his speed. Billy glanced over his shoulder for a moment before turning it back ahead of him, and still nothing, but he noticed. His fists relaxed, and Steve took that as something. “I don’t know. I guess I’m bored of American history. Rather go back to world—“

“Why are you following me, Harrington?” Billy asked, and Steve nearly stopped in his tracks.

“Well, I wasn’t, first of all. I got here first.” Billy slowed to let him catch up, and they ran side-by-side. “Besides, you haven’t said anything, like, all day. It’s weird.”

��Why, you miss me bugging you that much?”

Steve said, “You wish,” and looked over at Billy to see that his face remained unchanged. Tight lips, flared nostrils, sweat on his temple. He just grunted and stayed quiet for a while.

A full lap later, he finally spoke again, more audibly out of breath this time. “I don’t need another friend, you know.”

Steve huffed and rolled his eyes, and maybe it stung a little. He couldn’t be sure that Billy had any when his sister even rejected to spend more time with him than she had to. “Never said I wanted to be your friend.” Maybe he should have stayed under the bleachers. For the first time, Billy’s gaze blinked down, and his fists tightened just long enough to crack the knuckles in his thumbs. “Do you want me to go? I’ll leave you alone.”

“I didn’t say that.”

So Steve kept running.

When they reached Billy’s jacket again, he finally stopped, and Steve doubled over to catch his breath. “Fuck, thank god.”

Billy laughed, patted his back, and asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, fine—“ he said, straightening his back and stretching his shoulders, unintentionally pushing away the only gentle touch Billy had ever given him. For some reason, Billy stayed.

“Sure?” he asked, straight-faced again, looking so deeply into Steve’s eyes that he thought Billy was trying to pry something out of him. “You can say no.” The faintest hint of a smile pulled on Billy’s top lip—hardly enough to notice, but Steve did anyway. This time he was the one with no words. “You, uh… wanna get out of here?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s… yeah.”

So they took Billy’s car through Hawkins and around the next town, nowhere to go, no one to stop them. Billy smoked with the window down, still opting for silence over conversation, but Steve found that he didn’t mind his music so much when it backed the open road.

“What were you doing out there?”

“Hm?” Billy glanced over at him, cig in his mouth, eyebrows arched. “Out where?”

“The track. It’s fucking cold.”

He shrugged. “Clearing my head.”

“Did it work?” Steve asked at the cost of another scrutinizing glance. A little softer this time, but maybe his eyes were deceiving him.

“Mostly.”

“Did I ruin it?”

Billy smirked then, and Steve slouched with relief. “Nah.”

—

“You didn’t tell me it was your birthday.”

They’d been doing this thing for a while by then. Being not-friends because Billy didn’t need any, and Steve didn’t want to be his friend anyway. Meeting at the bleachers during class, running in silence, driving, listening, thinking instead of talking out loud. It was nice. They still weren’t friends.

“Was I supposed to?” Billy looked good with the single strip of sun over his face and in his eye when he blinked it away. His eyelashes shimmered brighter than his hair, richer than any gold Steve had ever seen. Smoke between his fingers that he let fizzle out more than he dragged. Maybe people weren’t interesting, but they weren’t Billy Hargrove. They didn’t give him the time.

“I mean. I don’t know. Could’ve got you something,” he said, and Billy smiled, laughing from his nose.

“King Steve wants to give little old me a birthday present.” Then he did take a drag. The hue on his face reminded Steve of their drive two weeks before, when they stayed out late because neither of them had kids to look after. Billy had kissed him and regretted it. Gotten shy before he decided to, even more so after it happened—when Steve wanted to talk about it, to ease the fear in his eyes with assurance that he liked it, that he wanted it again. He thought Billy would ignore him after that, but he showed up at the track like always.

“Friends usually do that,” Steve said, quiet, afraid that Billy would… leave?

“We friends, Harrington? You change your mind?”

He sighed. “No.” Billy passed him the cigarette and let him take a long, slow puff, not looking away even when Steve’s attention was on his lips. “Let’s catch a movie or something.” He handed it back.

“What movie?”

“I don’t know. Does it matter?”

“If we’re gonna see a movie, I’d rather not hate it.”

“We’ll see what’s playing. Come on.” For a moment, Billy didn’t move even when Steve stood up and fixed his jeans. So Steve leaned over with practiced hesitance, a special blend of careful and domineering just for Billy. This was something he had to take initiative on, so he did without second guessing himself. Billy accepted the gesture, allowed Steve to hold his hand, bring him to his feet and squeeze before they let go to head back to the parking lot. They drove their cars individually to the theater and met back up inside.

The ticket boy waved them in without a word, and Steve paid for their concession, much to Billy’s displeasure. “Not on your birthday,” he said, letting Billy roll his eyes all he wanted, knowing he wouldn’t change his mind. One bucket of popcorn, two drinks, a big bag of M&M’s, and Billy was ready to find a couple of back row seats on the off chance that Steve would hold his hand again, but the pull on his jacket kept him from going through the door. “This way.”

“What?”

“I help the owner out on weekends sometimes. Which means… free tickets, food discounts, and…” They walked through a door marked for employees. “Exclusive seats.” Billy went through with a questioning eye but didn’t ask where they were going. One short flight of stairs later, Steve was knocking on another door that opened not a few seconds later.

“Steve!”

“Hey, Marsh,” he said, letting Marshall—owner of The Hawk—pat him on the arm in greeting. “Got room up here?”

“Of course. Show’s starting in about ten minutes, then I’ll be out of your hair.” So Marshall let them in, and Billy’s attention was immediately on the window that looked out over the auditorium. About a third of the seats were filled with people who didn’t think twice about anyone putting the movie on for them, eating and talking until the lights would dim. “Cool, huh?” Marshall asked him, and he nodded with that nervous-excited face he wore sometimes that Steve liked just as much as all his other faces. Maybe not as much as when he smiled, really smiled, but that was a rare sight to see.

Ten minutes later, Marshall left with the request that Steve keep an eye on the film, which he promised he would. He and Billy sat in the two chairs, watching from their special view, taking turns eating out of their bucket—which sat on the desk—and remaining quiet for a while longer. Steve watched Billy more than the movie, and there were a few times when he’d caught Billy’s eyes looking back at him before they flicked to the screen again. The one time they remained on Steve, he asked, “What are you looking at, Harrington?”

“You,” Steve said, unashamed, whispering like they were in the audience.

“How many chicks have you brought up here, huh?”

“What makes you think I have?”

Billy faltered, eyes wide open as Steve ate another few pieces of popcorn with a grin that didn’t hide how much he enjoyed the moment they were sharing. All of their moments since Billy showed up in his dreary little town, all fire and burning rage that he let go of when they kissed two weeks ago. Steve said, “Chicks get the back row,” and wiped his hand on the knee of his jeans. “But, to be honest with you, I haven’t had a date in months.” Then, again, he reached for Billy’s, slipping his fingers between the gaps and rubbing his thumb along the back. “I come here to clear my head.”

Billy leaned closer and asked, “Does it work?” though Steve had a feeling the question ran deeper than that.

“Mostly,” he said, because all the times he cleared his head let Billy remain front and center.

“Am I ruining it?”

“Nah,” Steve told him, soft gaze peering into one that was hesitant and frightened, ready to bolt at any sign of deception that never came. “You’re the one thing I keep up there.”

“Steve…” Billy was already a nose away, having moved closer against his better judgment, chasing his heart that Steve had lassoed and reeled in so, so long ago.

“C’mere,” he said, whispered so softly that Billy could only hear because of how quiet everything else had gone. But he listened, and he leaned in closer, into Steve’s hand that found its way to his cheek and his hair. Steve kissed him first then, short and salty and buttery and still the sweetest thing he’d tasted in his life.

“Steve,” Billy said again, near-silent into another kiss that lasted longer, that Steve made sure would last until he knew it was real.

“Billy…” He was out of breath, hand gripping Steve’s tighter than ever. “I really like you, okay? I do.” Even speaking, their mouths didn’t separate, and they couldn’t hardly open their eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“What the hell does that mean? Yes, I’m sure.” Steve couldn’t help chuckling. He pressed his forehead to Billy’s, feeling that golden curl trapped between them, scalding like it would imprint on his skin just the same as every other part of Billy that had already. His gaze, his voice, his touch no matter how rough and daunting. They made Steve so weak to recall every morning and night, every time he closed his eyes, all over his body inside and out.

“Not just saying that ‘cause it’s my birthday, are you?” he asked, and Steve shook his head, rubbed his thumb along Billy’s cheekbone and curled his fingers in his hair.

“You’re a goddamn catch. How couldn’t I?”

Billy laughed, and Steve leaned back to watch that smile come and go, trying to hide itself away. “I’m an asshole.” Steve shook his head again.

“I don’t know, you’re pretty sweet to me.”

He blushed, and Steve liked to think he was the only person who could make him. “Sometimes.”

“More than you think.”

The longer they sat together in the dark, the deeper their kisses became, and the closer they sat. Billy was damn near in his lap by the time he had to work the projector, shaky and out of breath but still without a hitch.

“You should come over,” Steve said once he was done with the film, leaning down over the back of Billy’s chair and wrapping his arms around broad shoulders. He played with the buttons of Billy’s dress shirt, doing them up one by one and deliberately brushing his fingers against his chest.

“I gotta pick up Max at nine.” His head leaned back against Steve, eyes closed, forgetting where they were with a hot breath against his ear.

“And I’ve got cake mix that’s not gonna bake itself. Come on, let’s go.” Steve kissed his neck, his cheek, then walked back around to take his hand and stand him up. One last kiss to his mouth before they left for their cars again, on the way to Steve’s house where they still, after all this time, couldn’t just be friends.

#harringroveweek #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #steve x billy #one shot #fanfic #.discowrites #ao3

34 notes · View notes