#Listen as much as I rant about First Aid

[thunderwetter]

Tried soothing the pre-surgery nervosity by sketching a medic duo I'd trust to not f- it up

Ignore all the errors, I haven't drawn traditionally in a good bit LOL

Also, circumstances. Kinda uh, got a tube in my ribcage so I can breathe lol. And the hospital table is flimsy as HELL >:(

First Aid really do be breaking his shoulder to grab Ambulon's waist LOL

Maybe I'll redraw this properly when I'm outta this... sterile white prison.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

The Fight

Older Eddie x Reader. reader is mid to late twenties, and Eddie is thirty-nine.

You and Eddie get into your first big fight and aren't speaking, work is terrible, and you're running a fever and coming down with a cold.

❤️

"I'm not fucking speaking to you when you're being a brat. I don't know what is up with you today but I'm sick of it"

It wasn't really like you and Eddie to argue much but earlier you had gotten into an argument and the two of you were still not speaking.

You were being a brat, you felt off all day and had wrongly snapped at Eddie when he asked if you were feeling alright, the argument escalated from there and the both of you said stupid things.

Now it was radio silence between the two of you.

Anxiously you head to bed only to find him turned away from you, avoiding talking and big space between you, usually you fall asleep wrapped up in Eddie's arms but that wasn't going to happen tonight.

"Eddie?" You murmur softly but there's no response, he isn't asleep but he's not talking either.

Blinking back tears you get into the bed and burrow into the covers, it takes you longer to fall asleep than normal and when you do you're still tossing and turning, shivery one minute then hot then next.

Now you have woken up with a bad headache, and Eddie isn't there. He has left medicine and a glass of water on the bedside table but you wish he was here and holding you close, you feel terrible and just want him with you.

When you try to call into work your boss is a dick and won't let you have time off. He's ranting on the phone so you take the medicine and water and bundle up in warm clothes.

Work is a nightmare. It's a double shift that Austin can't get cover for and you're struggling to get through it. Austin is his usual "cheery" self and even though he can see you're sick he's still a dick.

On top of that, you haven't heard from Eddie and that is making you anxious. Do you text him first? He's super busy at work today so you don't know if he will reply or even if he will if he's still mad at you.

Nearing the end of your shift, you're tired and aching all over, you're pretty sure you have a fever. It's making you irritable and you have to bite your tongue when Austin is moaning about yet another thing.

Thankfully all is calm in the store and Austin leaves you in peace for the last half hour as you tidy up and get things ready to lock up.

It's so quiet that you rest just for a minute but that minute ends up being ten and you're jerked away by Austin.

There are cups to clean in the staff room which he's too busy to do and once again you bite your tongue and get on with the job.

You're tired, dizzy and really need to sleep so your reflexes aren't the best and one of the cups drops out of your shaking hands, it nicks your skin and stings harshly. Fuck.

"For fuck sake, you better clean that shit up, can't you do anything without fucking up?" Austin snaps and you freeze at this, heart pounding. You open your mouth to retort but nothing comes out.

"It was an accident" you manage to say but he's not listening and muttering expletives, well muttering them so loud that you can hear but quiet to anyone else.

It's a relief when the shift ends and you head back to Eddie's. Your hand is throbbing and everything that's happened during the last day has you close to tears.

Eddie is home when you get it and waiting on the couch, his expression anxious but it clears when he sees you.

You really don't want to argue again, you're so tired and sore at this point. "Where were you?" he asks softly and you slip your jacket off, desperate to change out of your clothes and get in a relaxing bath or shower.

"Austin sprung a double shift on me...what is it Eds?" He's gazing at you in panic.

"You're bleeding" he's up at once and taking your hand in his, eyeing the cut worriedly and then rushing to get the first aid kit. Shit you didn't think it was that bad.

"I dropped a cup" you explain and Eddie's eyebrows knit in anger. "Oh yeah, what did that dickhead of a boss of yours say about that?" he tenderly cleans your wound and bandages it up.

"Oh, the usual, insults and yelling" You sigh and vow that you really need to look for a better job. Eddie growls low in his throat and presses a kiss to your head then pauses, presses his palm to your forehead and swears.

"Fuck, you're burning up. He seriously let you work like this!" He's fuming and you soothe him.

"It's okay, I just need to sleep" You close your eyes barely being able to keep them open and resting your head on Eddie's chest. He's still tense but softens when you nuzzle into his chest.

"Hurts" you sigh and he swallows as he holds you close to him, you're dozing in and out in his arms as he carries you to bed and helps you out of your clothes.

"You're shivering, do you want to go for a shower baby?" That sounds like heaven and you agree, then begin sneezing.

The warm water is heaven on your aching bones and Eddie joins you, wraps his arms around you and holds you close to him.

"Why didn't you say you were feeling so shitty? Is this why you were so grumpy yesterday?" he caresses your cheek and then leaves soft kisses on your neck as you nod.

"Yeah, I was bratty though" you mumble and desperately just want your bed and maybe a few more cuddles from Eddie.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart. I've felt like shit all day about arguing with you. I wanted to talk to you and apologise when I got home from work, shit I thought you were mad when you didn't come straight here after your shift but it was that dickhead boss of yours keeping you"

"I'm sorry too Ed's" he kisses you, holding the kiss for a few seconds but his smile fades when your lip wobbles. Being sick always makes you feel emotional and out of sorts.

"I could kick Austin's ass for having you work like this. He's probably made you even worse and I swear if catch that prick anytime soon, he's going to get his balls ripped off for yelling at you" he mutters under his breath a few choice words and it makes you giggle.

Eddie's arms wrap around you and he presses soft kisses over your forehead. "I'd do anything for you, I love you so much, you know that princess. I'm sorry for being a jerk" he kisses you until you're laughing again and beaming at his goofy antics.

Unfortunately, the giggling erupts into a coughing fit and Eddie patiently helps you out of the shower and as you dry off, he finds your comfiest pjs which you change into and feel yourself relax for the first time today, even if you do feel like shit.

Your nose is all stuffy and you must look a mess but Eddie stares at you like you're the most beautiful thing in the world to him.

"Beautiful, I love these PJs" he toys with them and you snort. These are your favourite PJs and a little ratty, not sexy at all.

"Liar" you tease and he holds you close to him, "You're going to get sick too if you keep this up" you warn him and he shrugs unbothered.

"Don't give a fuck, need to make sure my princess is okay. I'm gonna get you some water and more flu meds, maybe some soup because you need to eat something"

Eddie makes the soup that his uncle made for him when he was sick, chicken soup and little stars. It's very sweet and delicious, he seems less anxious once you've eaten and had some meds and fluids.

"I'll call Austin tomorrow for you and you are going to rest, Brian can cover my shift, he owes me anyway and we'll just relax and do nothing, make sure you're all better" That sounds good, to be honest, you do feel a lot better but it would be nice to just rest and catch up on sleep.

The rest of the night is spent in Eddie's arms with his own brand of special medicine, kisses and cuddles to chase the cold away.

❤️

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Kinktober Day 20: Period Sex

Pairings: Sanzu x male reader

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom/trans!Sanzu, period sex, soft sex, drug usage (in typical Sanzu fashion)

Prompt credit: wylerkinktober 🧡

The silence is almost deafening, save for the ticking of the wall clock and soft whining somewhere on the couch. When you step into the room, you can easily identify the source of the noise.

Slumped on the cushions and clutching his abdomen tightly, your partner moans like a sick child. He doesn't notice you at first, not until you take a seat next to him and card your fingers through his long pink hair. “Aw, baby, what's wrong?” you ask lovingly. Sanzu's response is filled with exasperation as he explains his morning.

“Stupid fuckin' cramps… I barely ate anything this morning. Hurts too much…” he nuzzles into your palm before carrying on. “I tried everything! Even meds didn't work. This sucks.”

With a frown, you listen to Sanzu rant about the dreaded monthly torture that he experiences. Horrible pain, hot flashes, cold sweats, loss of appetite, increase in appetite, a strange craving for chocolate, and mood swings to boot. Not to mention the mess of bloodstains on his clothing and sometimes the sheets. And when none of the usual methods for combatting the pain work, it can be enough to make a grown man cry.

Though, judging by the way Sanzu slurs a few words, and the far-off look in his eyes, you'd wager that he has resorted to *ahem* …more unconventional methods of dealing with it. Not that you have a problem with that. You just know that drugs never seem to work for him either… you're convinced that he's only using them to forget the pain, anyway, rather than cure it.

Another deep, agitated groan, followed by Sanzu's body falling over into your lap. “Fix it…”

“Fix your cramps?” you laugh.

“…yes…”

With a soft smile, you offer “Well, I know of one other thing that, allegedly, helps with cramps. Are you in the mood?”

Sanzu glares at you through messy bangs. “What, ya gonna fuck away my period?”

……………

“Just… just put a towel down first, will ya?” he sighs.

—

His legs spread open, finding a comfortable position on your lap, facing away from you. Sanzu can feel your chest expand as you inhale, moving the hair away from his neck to kiss it. “Don't be nervous, just relax.” you breathe. “Focus on this…”

Sanzu's fingers tense around your wrist as you touch his entrance. Your other hand gently rubs circles on his tummy, hoping to soothe the cramps a little.

“How d'you feel?” you ask, cupping your hand over his cunt and rubbing your middle finger along his entrance.

Your pained partner exhales, tilting his head ever so slightly towards you. “Kinda nice.” he smiles. As you rub him a little more, Sanzu begins to loosen up, sinking further into your embrace and lazily rolling his hips. He's already pretty wet — whether that's from slick or blood, or a combination of both, you're not entirely sure. Whatever the reason, it makes it easy to plunge your middle finger inside, slipping in between his slick walls.

A soft moan fills your ear. Sanzu's eyes have closed now, and he appears to enjoy this so far. You notice how his face scrunches up every time you slide your finger all the way in, then pull it all the way out, and repeat. Sliding in a second finger takes no effort at all. “Ah~” he gasps, caressing your forearms. “Mhm~ Y/n~”

Two fingers now prod around inside of his pussy — by now, Sanzu's hips haven't stopped moving, chasing the tingly sensation you keep making him feel down there. You pull out and play with his clit until it's nice and puffy, drawing out more wetness to aid your efforts in a few minutes.

“You're so pretty, you know that? Do I say that often enough?” you coo. Your lips brush against Sanzu's ear, gently resting there while you hold him against your chest.

He replies, slightly giggling. “Only every day.”

“Good.” you kiss your beloved's neck and shoulder again. The hand on his stomach travels upwards, rubbing across his chest briefly before you hold his chin, turning his head towards you so that you can kiss him easily.

You can faintly hear the tiny schlik schlik noises his pussy makes as you finger him. Sanzu is squirming more now, exhaling giggly moans as his mind clouds—both from pleasure and the effects of the drugs.

His hand slides down, finding your thigh and clawing at it lightly, slurring, “More, moremoremore… don't tease me pleeease…”

“M'sorry, I wasn't trying to, Haru.” you reassure. “D'you wanna cum, or do you want me to put it in already?”

Sanzu whines, groping the area where he assumes your dick is. His silent way of telling you he wants your cock right now, or else he'll pout and be grumpy afterwards.

You were already pretty hard just from playing with your lover's pussy — hard enough to go ahead and slip inside. Sanzu's warmth envelopes your shaft, welcoming you with ease as you fill him up.

He arches against you, biting his lip. “Mm mhm~ feels good~” Sanzu's breathy moans and gasps fill the room as you stiffen inside of him, trying not to jiggle him around too much while you thrust. Making his cramps worse is not the goal…

“You're so well behaved today. Makes me want to spoil you even more~” you tease. At this, he smiles. Sanzu has always been something precious to you, and you do your damnedest to treat him like the prince he is. Moments like these bring out that need to shower him in kisses, and to fulfill his every demand.

Even when he demands; “In-inside! Don't pull out this time pleeease~”

And it's not that you don't want to fill his little womb, but… “Are you sure? But what if–”

Once all is said and done, you're both worn out and quite messy — Sanzu is too tired to move, so you offer to carry him once you've had a moment to rest.

Sanzu cuts you off immediately. “I won't! Promise! Just don't pull out~!”

After you draw a nice bath, you bring him into the bathroom, setting him down towards the front of the tub. Then, you slip in behind him, letting the warm water take over.

Sanzu leans back immediately. His head rests on your chest, and you let yourself soak in the affection.

“How are your cramps?” you question, taking some of the soapy bubbles and rubbing the sides of your lover's arms.

He lets out a deep sigh before answering. “You know, they're actually not as bad right now. I think your dick cured me.” you both laugh at the ridiculous remark. Well, as long as your Haruchiyo is feeling better, that's the important part.

[munsonthings86]

sunshine

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

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

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

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

wc: 6.0k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve was such a boy when it came to tidiness.

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

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

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

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

He always felt at home there.

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

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

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

"They make knives specifically for cheese?"

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

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

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

Looking at Steve was hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve was so helplessly in love with you.

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

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

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

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

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

Then you came.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, it was alright.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Just a tad," you laughed quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hoped to have another night like that soon.

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

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

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

The flashy things were dull to you, though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ready to eat?"

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm sure it does."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, did you wanna go too?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Screw that, he was in love with you.

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

"Hiding what?"

"That I love you."

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

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

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

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

"Kiss me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[zyafics]

i love love love your writing<3

rq: rafe had came up to tanneyhill's balcony for some peace at his own party. though he didn’t expect reader to be there, looking utterly lost. he knows reader is new. seen you before, too, hanging out with sarah’s crowd; under a pogue’s arm whenever they see him around, telling you rafe isn't anything worth talking, or interacting with.

first off, i am so sorry it took me so long to get this done (as with a lot of my requests) but thank you so much for enjoying my writing!! 🩷 i hope i do this prompt justice (literally shaking in my boots as i post this 😭)

ANGRY GOD | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (oneshot/mini series) | x Female Reader

Content — fluff, angst, Rafe spiraling (S2 Canons), Enemies Tension, Rafe growing possessive of Reader. Word Count — 3.2K.

Dedication — to @mintforadollar who listened to me rant about this plot a month ago, only for it to now be completed <3. Prompt credited to this on c.ai!

lıllılı Champagne Coast by Blood Orange

Rafe wants to be alone.

His mind is caught in a tailspin, muscles singing with ache from his latest altercation. It didn't help that the fucker managed to get some good swings in, ripples of pain spread from his jawline to his left eye. When he enters the second floor of Tannyhill, all he wants is to catch a breath of fresh air away from the party. His party.

He didn't expect to see you.

"Out." Rafe commands gruffly. You flinch at his abrupt command. "Second floor is off-limits."

He adds nothing else as he marches over to the edge of the balcony, digging his scraped palms into the smooth ridges of the handrails. He didn't want anyone here to witness the brunt of his frustration and disappointment, or how his mind swims with disoriented and incoherent thoughts. He wants to be alone.

But you won't let him.

Cautiously, you take a step forward—not in the direction of the exit, as he hoped—but towards Rafe instead. Lifting his head at the sound of your faint footsteps, agitation flushing through his expression at your proximity. "Didn't I tell you to get out?"

"You got into a fight." You mumble your observation, examining his hardened profile to discover the bruise that decorates his jawline, swelling with discoloration, the darkening under his left eye, and the split of open skin right above his brow.

He scoffs. "No shit."

"And you're bleeding."

He is? He didn't know that. All consumed by the adrenaline rushing through his system—that has yet to wind down—Rafe lifts his hand to run his fingers over the most prominent aches around his face. When he presses against something wet, he withdraws, finding a fresh coat of blood over his fingertips.

Rafe grimaces at the sight—not the blood, he's used to that—but the fact that his opponent succeeded in cutting him too.

Now, he definitely doesn't want you here. Before Rafe has the chance to kick you out the third time, you offer assistance. "I can help," you say meekly, messing with the hems of your top.

He didn't catch it over the loud thumping of his heartbeat in his ears. "What?"

"I can help," you repeat, louder this time, wincing at the projection of your own voice. You don't like the strain in your tone, the desperation seeping through. You'd do anything to avoid returning to the party. "I know how to patch up wounds. I'm training to be an EMT."

"I didn't ask for a life story." He snaps, a mechanical response to any aid. The idea of someone taking care of him is unheard of; unfamiliar and uncomfortable. He doesn't know how to react other than complete and utter rejection. "Besides, I can take care of myself."

Rafe assumes his harsh words would drive you away. The bite behind each syllable has been enough to scare off everyone else but you remain firm in your position. If anything, your expression softens, eyes washing over his rigid posture with a sympathetic look. He hates it.

"I know," you start slowly, eyes cascading down his face, carefully monitoring his reaction. "But... wouldn't it be nice if you didn't have to?"

His expression breaks.

Your kindness strikes directly to his chest and his heart clutches at the way you address him. With humanity. Even when he's been nothing but a complete asshole to you, demanding your departure, you respond with a sense of warmth. Rafe clenches down his jaw.

When he doesn't answer quickly enough, a sign of his contemplation, you add. "Please."

Reluctantly, Rafe gives in. "Fine."

Rafe moves from the balcony deck to reenter Tannyhill, not bothering to check if you're following behind. He heads straight to the ensuite connected to his bedroom, checking under the sink for his first aid kit, before throwing the box over the counter.

That's when he catches a glimpse of himself through the mirror, the ugly bruising that lines his face, the dried blood that stains his temple. His jaw tightens at the sight.

You enter shortly after, seeing him with his back to the mirror, his spine pressed against the rim of the porcelain sink. Your eyes do a quick sweep of your surroundings, before landing on Rafe and his rigid form, arms crossed over his chest, and a cold look on his face. He just wants to get this over with.

You glance outside, to his room, with its openness, before meeting his gaze. "Can we go to your bed?"

His answer is immediate. "No."

You frown but ask nothing more. Rafe's trying to make this difficult for you, refusing to cooperate because it's easier than submitting to your grace. Easier than admitting he'd like the help. You work around that.

Grabbing the antiseptics from the kit, you proceed to clean his wounds, softly massaging his flesh in the process. For a moment, it feels too good and Rafe fights the urge to lean into your hand before a sharp pain rips through him from the open cut and he hisses.

You immediately pull back, mumbling a quick apology.

His eyes squeeze shut, it takes a moment for the throb to cool down, and once it does, Rafe reconnects his gaze with yours to find the remorseful look behind your stare, the softening of your features met with utmost concern. You don't make another move to try again.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine." He bites out, wanting to rid you of that look. He's not weak. Stop looking at him as if he is. Despite the reassurance, you have yet to continue. "You're not going to be a good doctor if you shy away every time your patient gets hurt."

"I feel bad." You admit, chewing on your bottom lip.

"Why? You didn't do this."

He's the one who got into the fight. The one who swung first. While he may have won in the end, having knocked out the guy in the middle of the yard, it doesn't neglect the damage done to him in the process. But, at the end of the day, it's his fault.

You don't see it that way. "Because you're hurting."

You're too soft. That's what Rafe determines. Every little moment, little sprouts of empathy, every inch of sensitivity, is going to hurt you in the end. It won't save anything.

"I don't need your pity," Rafe snaps, giving you the first taste of reality under his razor-sharp tongue. He could be considerate, and understanding, but he isn't. That's how he learned.

"It's not—" You sigh. You don't want to argue and relent against his jabs. Without further commentary, you continue forward with your duties: aiding in his treatment and biting through the humane urge to sympathize with his pain.

Rafe takes the silence to observe you while you work. He knows you grew quiet because of his rough manners, and he won't lie to himself and say he enjoys it. He doesn't. But it adds to the list of everything else he has done wrong in his life; his long string of failures that his father can't wait to remind him of.

In the quietness, Rafe recognizes something about you. It takes a moment, after all the aches and throbs, but the recognition dawns on him that you're new. You hang out with his sister, Sarah, and the rest of the filthy group of no-good Pogues on the other side of the island. There have even been occasions when he saw you under JJ's arm, slinging around red solo cups and a grim soak of southside.

"Where's your friends?" Rafe asks, surprising you with the roughness behind his voice.

You lift your gaze to his. "Hmm?"

"The Pogues. Don't you hang out with them?"

You swallow hard, feeling like a child being caught with their hand in the cookie jar. You hoped your newcomer status would be enough to shield yourself from Rafe's wraith, especially his hatred towards your selected group. "Why?"

Rafe immediately picks up on the shift in your demeanor, the rigidness in your shoulders that tells him exactly what he needs to know. "You've heard about me, haven't you?"

You hesitate to answer. Rafe presses on. "What'd they say?"

Your friends have told you many warnings about the notorious Rafe Cameron. It all comes down to one conclusion: he's dangerous. He's irrational, self-centered, and narcissistic. He isn't worth talking to because all he cares about is himself.

However, you like to find out for yourself.

Rafe leans forward, lowering himself to meet your height and his face is right in front of yours. An arrogant smirk rises to his lips, a challenge for you to answer. "Come on, princess, don't tell you came up here without doing a bit of research beforehand."

You recognize this as a facade, a way for him to hide his true feelings because it's easier to disturb others. To mess with people and not reflect on your own. You place a hand against the solid of his chest and gently push him back, forcing him to reinstate the safe distance established before. You continue back to your line of work.

Your little push surprises Rafe. It also intrigues him too.

"They said you weren't worth talking to," you say softly, avoiding eye contact as he follows your every move. "That you're dangerous."

He scoffs at the reveal, but it pinches his heart that his own sister would agree. He values her opinion more than he'd like to admit. Drawing out a noncommital shrug, pretending not to care, he declares. "They're right."

You hum. "Maybe."

He looks directly at you with a raised brow. "Maybe?"

Your eyes finally connect with his, "I'm still figuring that out." You pull back, setting the supplies back into his aid box. "Done."

You're about to take a step back when Rafe grabs your wrist, holding you in place. Your breath shortens, and you peer down at the place of your contact before raising your gaze to his.

"What do you mean by that?" He demands, his expression hardens but his eyes are pleading. That juxtaposition, between who he is and what he wants, is the exact thing you're trying to uncover.

You aren't afraid of him. Not like the others.

"I don't know," you answer truthfully, sweeping over his face, reading the conflict his features can't seem to contain. Rafe, you're slowly unraveling, is someone who puts his heart on his sleeves. He just hasn't had anyone who cares enough to look for it. "I just don't know if I truly believe that."

"Why not? The rest of the island does."

It's almost a spiral. An edge closer to it. You think it's because Rafe finally has someone who looks past his mask, his deception that the rest of the island gladly takes. They're afraid of him; he engineered that reputation by hand. But you've met your fair share of burnt souls to know they're all worth saving.

You answer him.

"Your eyes." You explain gently. "They say it's the windows to someone's soul."

"And?"

"And, Rafe Cameron, you're someone who isn't as heartless as you'd like the rest of the world to believe."

His grip loosens from your words and you take the opportunity to slip out of his grasp and settle your arms by your side. Rafe watches as you offer him a soft smile, one that reaches your eyes, and you're about to return to the balcony deck for some peace when he follows you into his bedroom.

"That's not fair." He denounces, halting your exit.

You turn around to face him. "What is?"

"You can't come in here and make those assumptions. You don't know shit about my life."

Rafe doesn't like to be read so clearly; to know that whatever he's trying to front isn't deluding you. For some reason, he needs to convince you that every rumor and gossip is true. That he is bad. The idea of it is embedded so deeply into the crevices of his self-worth, that he's having a hard time believing anything else.

Rafe expects your reaction to meet his fury, but the slope of your brows furrow together calmly. A delicate practice over years of training. "I never said I did."

"You're acting like you do."

You frown. "Now you're making assumptions about me," you refute, pointing out his hypocrisy, and a tinge of sharpness slips through. "You asked and I answered. You can't be mad because you don't like them."

"Then why?" He snaps, irritation spewing with his venom. "Who the fuck are you to make that judgment?"

"I thought you didn't want to hear my life story."

He huffs. Rafe finds himself at a crossroads. While you're standing there, with your collected composure, he feels like he's unraveling by the seams. There's something about you. The way you read through him like glass. He doesn't know if he likes it or not. If he needs it or not.

"Bitch," he mutters under his breath at your lack of compliance, and your breath hitches at the term, a flash of anger goes through you like a surge. He recognized that look; it was something he was all too familiar with.

You turn around, about to sprint for the exit once again when Rafe calls out. "Wait."

You don't want to turn around this time. Rafe had managed to make you break through your own facade, your own composure that you spent years trying to cultivate. Something about being in the same room as the eldest Cameron makes you regress into your formative years.

"Turn around."

Your jaw is slighted, but you try to hold it together. You loosen your features before you turn on your heel. You still don't think Rafe is the person he's trying to present to the world, and you doubt that he truly carries that much cruelty in one body, but that doesn't mean you have to be in the same room as him.

But something made you stay.

Rafe crosses the large space, standing just in front of you. His breath is hot against yours, his eyes sharp. You tilt your head, meeting his stare, but to contrast his intensity, your gaze is soft yet firm, your eyes unwavering. Just because you are kinder than he is doesn't mean you are weak.

"You know what it's like, don't you?" He murmurs gruffly, his voice straining at the exposure. This questioning also carries the weight of admission underneath; to bridge a kinship. "Or are you a liar?"

You're not. But no one's ever asked the questions Rafe is asking either. Not your friends back home or the new ones with the Pogues. They treasure your friendship but they don't understand your depth.

"No."

"No, what?"

"I'm not a liar," you bite out. Rafe's mouth curls into a satisfactory smile, and he gets a glimpse of your real character. The true you underneath all that dignity. It's like his own dirty secret. "I know."

You saw through Rafe because you understood him. You shared the same sentiments. You groomed the same callousness. Every act he performs, you went through first. You can't point at his reflection without looking at the mirror yourself.

But you're a bit different. You learn to control it. You discovered that all that anger was something else. Hurt, pain, injustice. You take it all and put it in a box, caged behind thick chains and hard locks. Never to be touched again. Rafe takes it out to the open, free to play. You may come from the same origin but you take two different routes.

However, Rafe sees you much clearer now. To know you can understand him, see through his perspective, and filter out his incoherent thoughts. That's something he'd never experienced before in his life.

"The voices, anger, and impulses?" His voice shrinks, eyes searching yours. You hesitate before nodding once. "You get that too?"

It comes out when you're most hurt. "I do."

He feels like can breathe for once, to not feel completely isolated from the rest of the world. Rafe always feels off, like something is wrong with him. Nothing can be explained; nothing is allowed to be explored. Even when he sought therapy, his father denied his request. He thought he‘d be forever alone in all this.

He steps forward, closing in the distance until there's only an inch of space separating you. But even that feels too big. Oxygen stuck in your throat, Rafe connects his gaze with yours to whisper. "You're like me, aren't you?"

You swallow hard. You didn't realize understanding someone could be a reflection of your own damning soul. You don't know if it's a good thing. "Yes."

His pupils are dilated and nearly pitch-black. His breathing shortens, and his gaze pools with desire. You feel it too. Your heart accelerates beneath your ribcage, your stomach knotting with want. When Rafe leans forward, about to capture your lips on his, you ready yourself to let it all in.

But you're a bit different.

You turn your head away at the last second, his contact coming to your cheek.

"I'm..." You exhale, squeezing your eyes shut. "I'm with JJ."

The world stills on its axis, and you feel the gravity of it beneath your feet. You slowly peel your eyes open, only to find Rafe having pulled back, his hand, midway through the air to hold your chin, closes into a tight fist.

You let out a shaky breath, your eyes swimming with regret.

The look on his face is heartbreaking because you know him in parallel, you know what he's feeling. You take a step back, for your sanity or his, it’s unclear. All you know is the distance was safe. Until it wasn't.

"I should go." You whisper.

Rafe says nothing as you pad your way across his room, slipping out of the door. He remains motionless in the same spot, his jaw set, his fists clenched by his side. The adrenaline pulses return through his veins.

Fuck.

It takes a minute to gather himself. Hearing nothing but the throbbing bass beneath him, pulsing through the floor. His heart is wretched, his stomach full of nausea.

Rafe returns to the balcony to pull away from his room, the place where you had been, and he steps closer to the ledge. Everything in his mind is too quiet; sterile and white-screeching. He doesn't know how to fathom this change.

His blue eyes search across the lawn and he easily picks you out of the crowd. He knows you well now. Those brief, fleeting moments attached to his soul are permanent memories.

You rejoined the party with Sarah and the rest of the Pogues, while JJ saunters over and throws his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close and whispering something in your ear. You smile and laugh, but it doesn't quite reach your eyes.

When you look up, you find Rafe already watching. His eyes are set on yours, unmoving, and the intimacy of his gaze strikes something deep. You had to turn away to preserve yourself.

Rafe slowly comes to his understanding on his own. He never had someone who understood him, much less in such a short time. You unravel him behind gentle stares and quiet observations. You knew him because you knew yourself, and he doesn't want to lose that. He doesn't want to lose you. He can’t. 

So, he decided.

You weren't his.

But he's taking you anyways.

IMPORTANT: if you want to follow my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications!

[multifariousqueer]

Miles Morales Headcannons 🕸

A/n: Lmk if I should do more!!!! Also request some more miles fics pls!❤️

Warnings: Fluff and nicknames 

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

He’s definitely awkward at first, I mean who can blame him? You’re amazing

Climbs through your window to see you 100%

This man will come through your window in the middle of the night bloody and bruised

You have to clean him up bc of that. He basically relies on you for first aid since he can’t tell his parents

THIS MAN IS A SIMP OML

If he finds something he knows you like, he will give it to you

texts you all the time. In class?? He texts. On patrol?? He texts you. 

doesn’t want you mixed up in his Spiderman escapades AT ALL

LOVES LOVES LOVES cuddling but won’t openly ask for it 

hes a bit awkward at first but eventually warms up to it

listens to music with you and you exchange playlists 

Gwen and the Spider-people love you

His parents adore you

Will grab empanadas and chill on the roof with you for a date

speaking of dates, he loves chill ones

ones where you just vibe and eat

listenes to A$AP and Kanye 100%

NICKNAMES NICKNAMES NICKNAMES

“Mami” “baby” “mi amor” “mi corazon” 😫😋

Speaks Spanish to you bc he knows it makes you feral 😏

“Cálmate, Mami.” “te amo, baby” “Buenos noches, mi amor” 😫😍

He will stare shamelessly at you if you’re wearing something suggestive ;)

will rant to whoever is near about how much he loves you

Gawke hates it bc he talks abt you so much

“Oh did I tell you abt how she’s-” “yeah.”

Will help you with your hw if needed

you will end up having to cradle his head as he cries about some of the spider-man perils

after all, being spider-man is a sacrifice

never wants you to feel like you can’t tell him anything because he knows how it feels to not be able to express yourself

takes care of you

your screen time is 16 hours on FaceTime alone bc yall fall asleep together no matter what

however, most of the time, he will just come through the window

your parents love him

“Y/n!!! What’s that racket in your room?” “Nothing!”

It was Miles stumbling through your room and you cleaning him up

Before he goes home, he will stop by your room and make sure you’re okay

sighs in relief when he sees you sleeping peacefully

this man is so in love with you oml

AHHHH I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!!! REQUEST MORE MILES FICS

[o-sachi]

Then There Was You ‧₊˚ ⋅ Drabble (Request)

ଳ he swore to only keep his eyes on ume and follow his good example, but then you just had to become a distraction ଳ character; sugishita kyotarou (wind breaker) ଳ tags; floof, tsundere sugi, short fight scene, afab reader, no y/n

"You've been staring at her a lot lately huh?"

Just like that, Sugishita was snapped out of his stupor. He rarely narrowed his eyes at Ume, but if someone teased him about her... then not even Ume-chan is an exception to his grumpiness.

"No," he grunts and looks away.

Ume pats his back with a reassuring smile on his face. He said something about how it's okay to like someone because it's totally normal.

Yeah, right. Normal.

But the thing is—Sugishita's an anomaly. He's different in a way that he had never loved anyone before, let alone "liked." Some people were just not made for it and he believes himself to be one of those people. His purpose—he says—is to become stronger so that he can be someone Ume can be proud of. Even better if he could become someone that the great Umemiya Hajime could rely on.

However, he was nowhere near to attaining that. The idea of love is then out of question. He just had no time for trivial things.

It's funny though—how his mind and body are doing completely different things. A part of him doesn't want to stray from the path that Ume has carved for him, but another fuels this urge in him to simply stare at you. Admire you from afar. Because you were the most delicate thing in his eyes.

Compared to the self-assured and confident Kotoha, the new part-timer at the cafe was a bit laidback. But she was the bubbliest and friendliest person that the Furin boys have come across.

Each time they would come and visit the cafe, she'd be standing at the counter with a warm smile on her face. And once everyone has their food in front of them, she would happily listen to Ume's tales about the day's fight or Nirei's rants about the people he "observes." She'd giggle at Sakura's bashfulness and be amused by Tsugeura's enthusiasm.

She had a special talent in that she could make anyone feel at ease.

And Sugishita was sure that it would be the same thing all over again. No matter how nice or kind someone is—they'll be too intimidated to even converse with him.

But that wasn't the case with you.

He could still vividly recall how his heart skipped a beat the day he first met you. The boys had come to the cafe to wind down after a major scuffle. They had cuts and bruises all over, but they laughed as if there was no pain at all. As the newbie, you didn't know better and acted with the utmost concern.

Much to everyone's surprise, you came to Sugishita first.

"Does it hurt?" you ask, pointing at a cut on his arm.

His brows furrow and his lips press into a thin line—an obvious indicator that he is in no need of your help. But he should've known that it wouldn't be enough to push you away.

"Here," you say as you offer a band-aid to him. "Sorry, it's a bit childish with all the elephants on it, but it's all I have."

In spite of his unwelcoming demeanor, you persisted. Even the other guys around him were stunned at your resolve. But they remained quiet, wanting to see how Sugishita would react.

Sugishita sheepishly took the cute band-aid from your fingers, shoving it immediately deep into his pocket.

You smile. "You should wash that up and plaster it on as soon as possible or it'll get infected."

When he finally spares you a glance, he sees the maddeningly bright smile on your face. It almost reminded him of Ume when he annoys him.

"Thanks," he whispered. It took all of his willpower to say one syllable because he knew that there would be consequences.

Sakura piped up. "Oh, so you do know what gratitude is?"

The consequence being—a certain two-toned boy would get on his nerves.

Of course, the usual back-and-forth ensued. Sugishita got too heated up that he nearly forgot the band-aid in his pocket. When he glanced over to you again and saw how you laughed at their bickering... he swore you had done something to his forsaken heart.

He often found himself daydreaming like a kid when recalling that day. It made him happy to an extent, though he'd never admit it. But he mostly repeated the events in his head because he was trying to figure out why his heart was thumping so loud then and why he felt so nervous around you.

It bothered him to no end because he was this big hulking guy and you were... just a girl who probably wouldn't hurt a fly. He had fought guys thrice your size. Yet, here he was; scared at the thought of you sitting next to him and talking to him.

Throughout his daydream, he failed to notice that you had disappeared and went out to buy some milk for the cafe. Kotoha was busy cleaning the kitchen, so the errand was left to you.

It left Sugishita bored. He wasn't really interested in whatever they were talking about and Ume was busy eating anyway. And you were... well, he didn't know where you were. He'd rather be kicked in the shins twice than ask where you had gone.

Everything comes to a halt as they heard commotion from outside. And by the sound of it... it was you. His question was answered in the worst way possible.

"Let go of me! Stop!" you cried out desperately, but to no avail.

"C'mon, lady. We were askin' ye for some change so nicely, weren't we? Don't be a bitch and show us some kindness, will ye?"

The shady group of guys who were outside the convenience store saw you and decided to follow. So here you were, getting mugged.

Everyone in the cafe knew the situation straight away. They were all ready to jump into action, but none of them would have expected what happened next.

To put it simply, Sugishita just shot out of his seat without another word or thought. Kotoha was sure that the cafe's door would fly off the hinges with how strongly he swung it open.

His fiery stare was zeroed in on the scumbags that had you surrounded. His mind was empty except for two things: to beat these fuckers up and to save you.

He stomped over to you, the shady men becoming aware of his approaching and menacing presence.

"Watcha want, punk? Walkin' over here like a—"

The guy's sentence was left unfinished as Sugishita's fist met his face. His punch snapped and didn't waste any time slugging the rest of the men. Though they tried to fight back, they were no match for an extra aggressive Sugishita.

His senses only came flooding back when he felt a pair of arms around him. He inspected the ground below him where the men had fallen unconscious... and then he realized that you were clinging on to him like a koala.

"THAT WAS SO SCARYYYY," you cried. As you did, you squeezed him tighter. You were probably pushing his boundaries, but the adrenaline and fear got the best of you. You could apologize later for the tears that had seeped through his navy blue cotton shirt.

And normally, he would push you away, but strangely—it felt... really good. His hands hovered in the air, unsure of what to do with them. He helplessly looked around. But as he turned his gaze back at the cafe, he saw the boys and Kotoha watching them from a distance.

They were smiling and snickering, flashing a thumbs up at Sugishita for saving the day.

When it finally sank in—he was in a state of catharsis. He still couldn't put a finger on what it was that he was feeling. But all he knew was that he liked your warmth and that you still made him insanely nervous.

To some extent, it was like his eyes were opened to a world never seen before. And you were the key to that hidden realm.

He gulped and slowly placed a hand on your head, gently stroking it albeit he was shaking. Was it from punching too hard or was it because of you? He wasn't sure.

Buuuut, maybe Ume was right about this being totally normal.

o-sachi © 2024 pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[diodellet]

Sorry to bother you, but for your Valentine's Day event I wanted to ask Jamil and Leona with Prompt 15 please

💌Jamil Viper + Prompt #15 (Ranting about how insufferable they are, but your friend thinks knows otherwise. Bonus points if the subject of your conversation overhears Everything.) ++Reader is not Yuu, slight angst with a bit of comfort at the end

It was only something he said. Offhandedly, matter-of-factly, casually, all those similar words.

Aren’tcha happy to see your little fan?

…Not really. It’s annoying.

Then again, a sharp knife could still cut to the bone. Even in the hands of a careless wielder.

(Even if his cheeks warmed at the knowing glance that his clubmates gave him, seeing the flicker of hurt across your features sent a stab of guilt into his gut.)

Jamil scanned his surroundings. He last saw you duck into the hallway of the third year classrooms. Slowing to a walk, he considered your possible hiding spots. The ghosts kept staff rooms locked, laboratories and offices as well. In fifteen minutes, the doors to the classrooms would also be enchanted to keep from anyone entering. That meant—

…What was an empty coat rack doing here?

He walks past it, brow furrowing in confusion. Your—admittedly admirable—disappearance didn’t make any sense.

A potion? Your Unique Magic?

Just as he reaches the end of the hall, behind him, the telltale sound of a spell wearing off confirms his guess, revealing you in place of the coat rack. He half-expected you to turn and bolt.

Instead, your eyes turn glassy and tears slide down your cheeks.

At a quiet call of your name, you wave off the concern. “It’s true, I’m—I’m annoying, you don’t need to…to justify it.”

Your other palm is held out, stopping Jamil from approaching.

“I know, I should have talked to you properly and let it happen. I just… got scared.”

Jamil hated that, being scared. It led each careful and cautioned move of his. As much as he refused to let it step to the forefront of his mind, fear was a looming shadow. The calculated, sharp-tongued vice housewarden of Scarabia was born from a practiced skill in passing fear off as any other visceral emotion.

…Though you were annoying. Persistent. 

Always just a little out of reach.

His hand closes around your outstretched wrist.

The apology is worded perfectly in Jamil’s mind, but his throat refuses to cooperate. “...look, I didn’t…” When it’s just the two of you, he finds that he doesn’t mind being the sole recipient of your wholehearted attention. “As…as long as it isn’t in front of everyone, I’ll hear you out.”

Another tear rolls down your cheek, and your lips form into a shaky smile.

💌Leona Kingscholar + Prompt #15 ++Reader is not Yuu

“I don’t understand what’s his problem.” You wrench the locker open.

“Well, I am having a nice day, thanks for askin’,” Epel frowns, but doesn’t look up from folding up his training attire.

“Is everyone pretending they didn’t see me getting badgered on the field earlier?” Thank god, you still had band-aids. “Scoot over.” Epel makes space for you on the bench, winces when he sees the scrape on your leg.

“Yeah. This is what I get for trying to play and listen to the captain’s yelling at the same time.” You layer two band-aids. “I’m not even first-string, so why’s he on my case? He should be focusing on you and Ruggie more.”

“Hey!”

“In a good way! I just don’t get why he has to take his stress out on me.”

“I hear you.” He slings his gymbag over his shoulder. “I’d wanna stay and listen s’more but—” 

“Yeah, Vil would wring your neck or something. See you.” You’re focused on covering most of the scrape. Unsuccessfully.

Turns out you weren’t left completely alone.

Leona’s blocking your way out of the locker room. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed. Though he seems to always be frowning, you see a muscle in his jaw tense as you approach.

“...I’m guessing you heard that.” A part of you hoped that Epel would be forced to do penalties with you, he technically was a co-conspirator in your shittalking as the listener.

“Hmph, if you have such a problem with me running the team, then you might as well hand in your jersey right now.”

No way—is what you’d say if you had no shame. But you, mediocre as you are, fought tooth and nail for a spot on the Spelldrive team.

But he’s right. Your hand tightens around your bag strap, protecting its contents. The only marker of your effort. “I'm only…It won’t happen again.”

You’re burning. From shame, from frustration. Why would he take notice of you?

At that minute gesture, Leona steps aside. “Guess I was wrong to think that you could handle some tough encouragement.”

“Encouragement?” A satisfied grin stretches across Leona’s features. “No, no—training’s over. I don’t need to listen to y—this.”

“Now, hold on a second there.” It’s unfair how the authority in his voice is enough to pin you in place. “Next Monday, you’re running twice as many laps for warmups.”

a/n: ahaha this is sooo late... sorry 🙇‍♂️(girlie didn't think she'd struggle this much tryna figure out leona's character in a reader-insert way, this is my karma for making fun of housewarden stannies 🤧🤧) i hope it was an enjoyable read nontheless, i tried to spice up the interpretation of the prompt, make it a seat-grabber or sumn along those lines ahahaha NEways! have a (looks at scrawled writing on hand) happy summer! 💕💕

[fullofbees]

How the Brothers React to a Witch!Reader

As the title says; the brothers' antics when it comes to MC's withcraft.

CW: None!

»»----------► Reader is Gender Neutral

At first, Lucifer would roll his eyes in annoyance; there’s no time to entertain ancient human superstition. That is until you suggest putting some of Lilith’s keepsakes in the lounge; “Spirits are attracted to sentimental or familiar objects from when they are alive. If you place these on the mantle above the fireplace, maybe she can visit when you all hang out together.” The demon doesn’t believe a word MC says, but his brothers love the idea, and so it happens without his approval anyways. He stubbornly refuses to acknowledge the extra warmth it brings to movie nights.

The Avatar of Greed would beg MC for some kind of spell that would either bring money in or help him save what little he already has. MC warns him that sometimes the universe answers in ways you won’t expect. MC has him place a few cinnamon sticks in a jar along with a small handful of Grimm; though they keep it in their possession, so Mammon isn’t tempted to open it prematurely. Though he’s begging again only a week later, after having his scheduled packed with shift after shift at his various jobs. At least payday will cheer him up.

Respectfully, once Levi found out you couldn’t brew him a potion or cast a spell that aided in his otaku activities, he would lose interest. That is until he becomes hyperfixated on a novel/game from the human world that involves a plethora of references to their craft. Now MC receives messages every hour or so with a plea to explain the lore, an herb, or a philosophy so he can understand his beloved media.

Satan would be interested in the kinds of hexes or curses MC would be able to perform. They would struggle at first to explain how curses don’t work the same way as they do in the Devildom; they aren’t always instantaneous, and more often than not, you won’t get to see the results of the magic for yourself. Still, it can be an easy way of releasing your anger to the universe, allowing it to use the energy against your target if it so pleases. MC tells him that not every aggravating situation is worth your energy. It doesn’t stop him from trying to curse Lucifer.

Asmodeus is already fascinated with tarot and astrology; he would probably have MC read his birth chart, as well as have them make a synastry chart for their relationship. He would text the HoL group chat with MC’s interpretations, probably exaggerating it slightly to make his brothers jealous: “MC said that we’re destined to be together <3.” MC is then flooded with the brothers begging for their own synastry reading. Lucifer ends up banning birth chart discussions from the house because of the fights that break out.

He’s confused as to why MC places food upon an altar and leaves it be. He probably will try to sneakily eat the offerings, only for MC to shoo him away and fiercely guard it afterwards. All is forgiven when MC approaches the starving demon with the now cold food. He doesn’t care though, and happily munches away while MC explains how spirits consume the essence of the offerings. He doesn’t understand it that well, but is mindful to ask MC the next time he sees food upon their altar, and patiently waits for the spirits to have their fill first.

Like Levi, Belphie wouldn’t have that much interest. He doesn’t need any help sleeping, and he already has powers of dream manipulation. He would listen to MC rant about dream interpretation though, and help them relive previous dreams so they can get a clearer picture. Absolutely loves astrology though; the stars have always been sentimental to him, so to learn about the humans' different interpretations of the constellations softens his hatred for them just the tiniest bit.

•••✦ ❤ ✦••• Read Fics on AO3 | Submit a request •••✦ ❤ ✦•••

A/N: I have one ready for the other dateables ready, I just need to make little name banners for them. Also, please reblog as this helps me connect with more Obey Me fans! :3

[kenlvry]

Hi there I same you writing for South Park and I wanted to put in a request, how would the main 4 (separate) when their gf gets hurt/in a fight?

Also love how you write them sm

-orchrid anon

how the main 4 would react when their gf gets hurt in a fight

note: HELLO ORCHRID ANON, you sound so sweet, thankyou for the complement i hope you enjoy this one! tw: slight sa in cartmans

⊰⁠⊹ฺ

kenny mccormick

it was lunch and kenny and others was talking about the new game thats about to launch in a couple weeks, stan then asked kenny if you and bebe has been fighting lately.

he was quite confused and asked why he said that, "dude didn't you see? the entire class the both of them was staring at each other as if they wanted to rip each others hair out" kyle chimed into the convo, apparently the whole class noticed it, kenny was focused on something else during class so he didn't notice anything.

all of the sudden some other 4 graders was running outside, cartman asked what was going on and the 4th grader said bebes hair is getting ripped out by you

kenny was shocked af, you weren't the type to get into fights because of how you always forgave people. if bebe did something to you so much to the fact you would fight her makes him worried.

all of them rushed outside to see a big circle and in the middle with you and bebe ,you had your hair tied up with loose hair strands. your lips was bleeding and so was your eyebrow. you cheek was swollen, but if you look at bebe she was a thousand times worse.

you were sitting on top of bebe punching her and kenny knew if he didn't get involved bebe would be dead by the time the fight ended, kenny pulled you away from the fight with you trying to kill that bitch. he quickly took you home despite still being school hours

"what the fuck happened babe? if someones been bothering you, you could've tell me i can handle it" (because of his alter persona being mysterion) "that bitch was talking about my mom being a whore and effing her dad, how could i not get mad???" kenny settled you down on your bed for you to blow some steam off on your pillow.

coming back with the first aid kit he treated your wounds and bruises with you moaning abt it not hurting and wanting to continue fighting. "babe next time dont hurt your precious face like this, just tell me okay? i dont want you to be in trouble"

he was really sweet for comforting you and you calmed down. you kissed him for thanks "damn, do that again but longer" you laughed and so did he. he ended up staying over and listened to you ranting to him about how fucked up bebe is, you two cuddled and watched some movie knowing tmr you'd get sent to mr mackeys for fighting and ditching school . kenny also made a mental note to visit bebe tonight.. <3

stan marsh

school ended and you stan and the others promised to go play at your house, some of the girls called you out, they waited long for you outside of school and cartman was not having it, about 5 minutes later you came out the door

but it seemed like you got into a fight, your hair was a mess and your face was fucked up, even your coat and scarf was missing, you looked like you could have frost bite any second.

the four of them rushed over to ask millions of questions, while being questioned stan realized you were freezing and gave you his coat, he'd rather him being cold than you, now back to questioning.

"what happened dude? you look like shit" you explained that apparently when wendy and the other girls called you to the playground to "talk" it was about stan, wendy was not happy stan broke up with her for you, when you arrived they were wendy and her cronies surrounding you, "what did i tell you about touching stan y/n?! dont fuck with me!"

they all jumped you trying to fuck up your face so stan would loose feelings for you, what they didn't know though was you could take all of them while sleeping, you were a black belt and your dad always taught you self defense, you easily took them. you should've known that wendy had ill intentions towards you.

when stan heard all of this he was fuming he wanted to go in and beat all of them up, luckily he doesn't fight women (unless necessary) kyle and the others was also mad af, you told them to deal with it tmr because all you wanted to do was go home and play some games or wtv.

the next day stan marched right up to wendy, and wow did you handle her.her face was wayyy worse than you, stan almost laughed. anyways he yelled at her on how stupid of it for her to fight you just because they broke up. it got heated real fast, stan ended it with saying "well fuck you wendy, after this don't even think i'd even consider you as a friend!!" he wanted to say so may things but if he did even you would be mad at him.

he'd take care of you until your wounds and bruises gets better, when you do anything he'd act like a whole mother. after this wendy always glared and didn't dare touch you.

kyle broflovski

when he heard you got into a fight he couldn't believe it like "y/n??? y/n l/n??? my girlfriend y/n??" "oh my fucking god yes" he was waiting for you outside the counselors office (with the other of course), it took really long and it sounded like you and whoever it was, was arguing inside.

it ended with a loud sigh from mr mackey and telling the both of you to get out. you came out with your hands in your pockets looking annoyed, you had a tissue up you nose, your eyebrows was bleeding and you had a small cut on your forehead. they were shocked at the state of your face. then the girl that you fought came out. it was a random 4th grader the others haven't meet before, apparently it was the new kid.

you told them that she had moved to the house infront of you and caused havoc, she'd throw eggs at your window and rocks at your bedroom windows, would also ask you to come over just to ask you to clean up her house! you told your parents but they would never catch her in the act. you punched her one day not wanting to deal with the shit she puts you through and she promised the next time she saw you it was on. you just didn't know it'd be at school.

you sigh knowing you have to deal with your parents later. kyle immediately took you the school nurse getting bandages for your wounds and a ice pack for whatever he thought its for. he didn't knew how to do anything but tried so hard, so precious. he told you to stay still and wouldn't have to lift a finger because he and the others can handle it.

the new kid was introduced and everyone knew what she did, you were a very famous lovable person, everyone loved you. wendy rolled her eyes at her knowing what she did to you. everyone ignored her. even when she was being introduced nobody was paying attention, they were just playing. she was mad to say the least, she thought everyone would love her esp kyle bc she took a liking to him!!

when you came back from the nurses office everyone greeted you. asking if your ok and if you need help. the new kid looked pissed at the sudden fame you got. you asked kyle what happened and he told you that not only he told everyone what happened between you two, he spread rumours about her, telling everyone she was someone who'd steal everyones mans and how she liked to steal things

you laughed at his efforts and also didn't know he could be such a gossip girl you kissed him to show thanks, the year continued with the new kid having 1-2 friends just because she was a bitch to you <3

eric cartman

him and three others was at his house waiting for you so they can go and play basketball. while on your guys way to his house some 6th grader called you over, you did and told them to go ahead and wait for you. it was well past 20 minutes now and they re getting bored.

"dude where is your girlfriend? she's taking forever omgg" "i dont know geez" suddenly you burst open the door making them all jump. you were out of breath and looked horrible , your hair looks like you haven't showered in years, your cheek was swollen and your coat had a tear in it, "dude what the fuck happened" "yeah you okay?" you were in tears.

the 6th grades asked to borrow 100$ which you didnt have so you refused but they wanted it now, you told them you didnt have them, you were getting real scared and wanted to run away, you looked behind you to see if it was okay to run or if there was someone you can call for help when all of the sudden someone grabbed you shoulder and demanded the 100$, he grabbed strands of your hair and kissed it saying that you can pay with something else winking at you. the other two 6th graders just laughed and you punched him, you were grossed out. they were shocked, the other 6th grader punched you and it was a full on fight, you could handle two of them but the other was too strong, you just ran off to cartmans house scared.

after you told the story cartman wanted to go and burn the 6th graders house but he hold it in "dont worry, i got this" cartman said to your crying figure on the couch and left the house. you looked dumbfounded but wtv.

(the 6th graders pov)you went home after getting beaten up by some lousy girl, you made sure to make a mental note to meet her tmr. going up the stairs to greet your pet bird, he was your fav thing in the world, you lov- hes dead. what the fuck, your room was trashed, all of your clothing was torn apart and on the floor was a note written on it was (fuck your 100$ bitch) .............

when cartman got back he told everyone to go home and to just play tmr, except you of course you can stay, he acted all tough but he was actually so worried for you, he treated to your bruises immediately, he was surprisingly good, the next day the 6th graders didnt bother you, infact they were scared of you, whatever cartman did you were so thankful

you kissed him and hugged him, he cringed and made puking noises but he loved it, you both knew <3

hope you liked it, cartmans is a bit messy cz i got tired halfway writing all of this sorry!!

[stardewstardropthoughts]

What about the bachelors comforting the farmer who's usually very calm but breaks down in tears for the first time due to stress. *Cough* community house *cough*

If you didn’t mean the community center please let me know lol but damn mayor lewis really did us dirty with tasking ONE PERSON to what would easily require like five minimum 🫠

How the bachelors react to you breaking down about fixing the community center

Harvey:

He may be your doctor, but first and foremost he’s your husband

Even if he hadn’t been concerned about the physical toll that undertaking fixing the community centre on your own would cause, he was certainly worried about the mental toll

Would ask about how it’s going frequently, dispite your constant brushing off his worries

Until one day it all just became to much for you and he found you curled up in the bathroom head on your knees arms around yourself sobbing

Immediately worried something hurts or your feeling sick, asking a million medical questions a minute

When you finally tell him that your just overwhelmed because it’s such a huge task for one person he sits down beside you and listens

“I don’t want to let everyone down because I know mayor Lewis is counting on me to fix up that old building but it’s just so much for me to do alone, I don’t even know how I’m supposed to keep up with it and I’m constantly burning myself out trying to find what I need or come up with the funds to buy it and I just can’t”

He wraps his arms around you and holds you while you rant through hiccups and sobs into his shirt, gently running his hands up and down your back in a soothing pattern

“Sweetheart, mayor Lewis was wrong to throw such a huge task upon one person, it’s not your fault and it’s certainly not your burden to bear. You arnt letting anyone down and no one expects you to be able to do it on your own, it’s okay to ask for help”

Sam:

He is really impressed that you wanted to undertake fixing up the old community center yourself

He is also concerned since he doesn’t want you to burn yourself out but you were adamant that you could do it

He offers to help out every now and then but you assure him you’ve got it handled

You do not in-fact have it handled

He finds you face first on your bed one night sobbing violently into the pillow, covered in dirt and scrapes

He’s very concerned and immediately grabbing the first aid kit and some water for you

Asks you what’s wrong and if your okay, which only makes you sob harder to be honest

Listens as you tell him that trying to find all the necessary things to fix up the community center is quickly becoming an impossible feeling task and that your so afraid to fail because you don’t want anyone to be disappointed in you

He’s also crying now because how could anyone be disappointed in you? The love of his life who’s working so hard to better the community when no one else even tries

“Hey, baby baby baby listen, your doing so much more then anyone else has even attempted to do to make this town better, no one could ever be disappointed in you”

Holds you for the whole night, also asks you to take a few days off for yourself so he can pamper you and help you feel better

Elliott:

He doesn’t like that mayor lewis has put this much responsibility on you alone to begin with

He knows what it’s like to undertake to much work and then burn yourself out

So he knows what’s happened when he finds you sobbing in the middle of your sunflower patch

Immediately pulling you into his chest and shushing you gently while he runs his hands through your hair

“I know my love, it’s unfair of such expectations to have been thrust upon you. You don’t have to undertake such a burden alone, it’s alright to need help”

Continues to hold you for as long as you’ll allow him

“Even tear stained and sniffy your beauty still rivals that of even the most breathtaking sunflowers in this field”

Just wants to see you smile again, his heart hurts when your upset

Shane:

You’ve helped this man through so many breakdowns and he’s the king of being burnt out so he knows the signs when they happen

He also hates that the mayor just decided you could undertake such a huge task yourself, shouldn’t that be the mayors job?

He finds you face down in a pile of chickens who have all just settled around and on your sobbing form

If he wasn’t so concerned for your mental well being he might have snapped a pic

Very gently removes the chickens off of you and pulls you into his lap, Charlie his favorite chicken on your lap as extra emotional support

“I don’t even know what I’m doing when it comes to fixing up that old building and I took some drugs with a wizard to see some fucking junimos and they have so many demands and I don’t even know how to say any of this without sounding like I’m insane and it’s just to much to do alone”

Listens intently while you rant and sob into the chicken who’s very patiently sitting on your lap

“Love, first of all I don’t think mystery drugs with a wizard is a good idea please don’t get yourself poisoned, second, it wasn’t fair of mayor Lewis to put a task that he should have done himself on you and I have half the mind to tell the town about his little affair if that wouldn’t hurt marnie too”

Gently scoops you up off the floor and brings you into the farm house so he can make you a cup of coffee or tea and cuddle in the bed with you after a hot bath together

Sebastian:

This man probably wasn’t even aware you were trying to fix it up at first, especially since usually his mom has the big projects

So when he finds you just floating face up in the lake near his house staring at the sky while it was pouring he is concerned to say the least

When you explain through tears and shaky breaths that your just really burnt out trying to fix the community center and that it’s way to big a task he understands

Brings you back to his house and hands you a pair of his pants and a shirt and sweater to change into while he puts your clothes in the dryer

Comes back and wraps you up like a little cocoon in his blankets and holds you against him

“It’s not very fair to expect you to be able to do such a large task on your own, if you need help it’s alright to ask, my mom and Clint I’m sure would be able to help and more then happy to as well”

Let’s you fall asleep in his arms and once he’s sure your resting falls asleep as well

Alex:

He probably doesn’t even realize anyone’s trying to fix up that old building, it seems like a lost cause to him

Much less did he expect you to be trying but he does think it’s very admirable that you wanted to fix it up

Does not think it’s worth the obvious toll it’s taking on you

Finds you having a whole panic attack and sobbing on the beach after dark

Doesn’t really know what to do to comfort you at first so he just kinda crouched in front of you

“Hey, hey take a deep breath in with me okay? Good job, now out”

Does Breathing exercises with you until your breath evens out

“Good job baby, now tell me what’s wrong”

Listens intently as you tell him all about how you’ve been trying to fix up the old community center and most of it’s gone pretty good but your really struggling with some parts of it because the supplies is really hard to come by no matter how much you scoured the mines and your so exhausted but you don’t want to let anyone down

Holds your hand while stroking his thumb over the back of it

“What you’ve already done is more then amazing and you shouldn’t have felt obligated to try and fix it in the first place, it’s not your job to rebuild it babe, no one would be upset, it’s a pretty big job for any one person”

Makes a mental note to ask the mayor what the heck he was thinking assigning such a huge task to one single person because what the hell mayor Lewis

[starlightshadowsworld]

Chuuya: Bullshit! You did not have a worse time than I did.

Dazai: I had to sit here, face to face with Fyodor and pretend I was interested in his nonsense. You got all the fun.

Chuuya: I had to listen to all of his long ass rants against you. While pretending to be his puppet. The only fun part was shooting you.

Dazai: You would say that. But it’s only your first run in with him. I’ve been shot multiple times and stabbed by him. After pretending to be his pawn just like you did.

Chuuya: You being forced to go to a dinner party doesn’t compare to what I suffered. Besides when that happened I came to go bail your ass out of trouble.

Dazai: All that water must be clogging up your ears if you think you’ve suffered the most from Fyodor Dostoyevsky.

Atsushi: Hey what are you guys talking about?

Chuuya:…..

Dazai:……

Chuuya: Just telling Dazai how much of a dumbass he was for walking around on a broken leg.

Atsushi, sceptical but goes with it: You really should take more care of yourself Dazai. What would Ku-…..You should be more careful.

Dazai:…Hey, I will. I mean I’ll try but the slugs bed side manner could use some work.

Chuuya: Your lucky I’m helping you up in the first place.

Atsushi: I think I saw a first aid kit somewhere, hang on I’ll be right back.

Dazai: You know “suffered the most” is such a strong phrase.

Chuuya: Exactly, and it wasn’t that bad just annoying.

Dazai: So annoying and the lift was barely an inconvenience.

Chuuya: Barely.

Dazai, seriously: We’ll get him back, for all of this.

Chuuya: Count me in.

[liillyliilly]

Lotus and Odysseus

akaashi keiji x reader words; 1801 synopsis; Y/N will be the death of Akaashi.

[Her heart was golden]

She is a siren. Luring all those she speaks to into their deaths. Like Odysseus, Akaashi asks for the men on his team to hold him back from being lured in too deep. He wished he could fill his ears with beeswax to ignore her. But everyone else seemed to already do that when they were around her. So, as the Odysseus of his own story, he listens to the song she sings.

“Fun Fact: In Greek Mythology, there was a tale of these people called The Lotus Eaters. Odysseus and his band of men needed a break, and when they came across an island to rest, all the people there ate these weird Lotus things. And when they offered it to Odysseus and his crew, some accepted, not knowing that they would fall into an unconscious state. Then Odysseus had to drag their asses off the island to keep travelling.” Y/n explained, passing out water bottles to the boys on Fukurodani. Most of them nodded in slight understanding, but Akaashi listened with complete intent to try and understand the point of what she was trying to explain.

When she looked around, only to notice that the only person seemingly interested was Akaashi she scratched the back of her head in embarrassment.

“Sorry. I’ll keep my rambles to myself.”

“No, keep going, there’s a reason you brought it up.” Akaashi drank a large swig from his bottle, before going back to focusing on Y/n. Their next match wasn’t for a bit, seeing as Karasuno was still running up the hill behind the gym from yet another loss.

Y/n smiled, before taking his water bottle and walking off to fill it up, Akaashi following in suit.

“Well, I wanted to explain to you all that figuratively, a 'lotus-eater' means a person who spends their time indulging in luxury rather than handling any sort of practical business. And that, since you guys have been winning a lot of your matches, you seem to be easing up on your training.” Akaashi stood next to her, stunned by her intelligence and observational skills. But Y/n took it that he was feeling insulted. “Oh, no! You guys are working very hard I’m sure, but I was just, I was just trying, I’m try to help, since, well, I don’t really do much as the second-year manager, and you know I’m just really trying my best and-”

“Y/n. I understand. Calm down.” Akaashi puts a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. But that just makes her more stressed out. She removes his hand, and hands him the water bottle she had been filling.

“Thanks, Akaashi. But you really should be getting back to the court, Bokuto is screaming your name.”

[There were explosions]

His mind runs wild. I want you to scream my name. He shudders. He feels gross for thinking he would ever even say those words. And to Y/n? After saying a quick thank you to her, he runs off to get back onto the court.

She is a siren. And as Odyessus, he yearns to listen to her.

“Bokuto, what do you know about Y/n?” Akaashi asks as he dries his curly hair with a towel. Y/n had only just become a manager, seeing as the current managers were third years and needed a replacement.

“Hey, hey, hey, you aren’t interested in her right?” Bokuto asked. His energy taking a slight toll. He knew that Akaashi had been interested in her since the first time she ranted to Akaashi about the history of volleyball. Bokuto also knew what question was coming next.

“Why not?”

“She has a boyfriend. He’s kinda a douche though, but Y/n seems to really like him.”

Sirens drag people to their deaths. Y/n had told Akaashi this fact more than enough times for him to have it ingrained into his memory.

[The beast awoken...]

Akaashi was furious, and he knew exactly why. Y/n, she was the root of all his pain and his pleasure. Oh, how he wished he could be Odysseus and ask for help from the goddess Athena. Aiding him in all of his tasks that rained down on him from being a great warrior in the battles across Greece and Troy. How he wished he could rain hell upon any obstacle between him and what he wanted.

He wants Y/n.

And his obstacle was her boyfriend. Not unlike Odysseus however, Akaashi is patient and willing to take the time to work things out. First, in order to win the Trojan War against Troy, he needs an Achilles. And who better than Bokuto Kotaro.

“I am not helping you break L/n up with her boyfriend.” Bokuto exclaimed as he started to take down the volleyball net. “Are you literally insane Akaashi? You know I would do anything for you, but I am not willing to break a couple up.” Bokuto lifted the netting and carried it to the storage closet, all with one arm.

“But Bokuto, please. Your skills of being a good Ace can definitely shine through as you help Y/n break up with him. You have seen him, he’s a douche, he practically screams cheater and he has cheated on her, multiple times.” Bokuto feels an internal struggle. On one hand, he thinks his best friend should probably stop obsessing over L//n. On the other hand, he did call him a good Ace. Bokuto shrugs and says a small ‘what the hell’ as he shrugs his shoulders. Akaashi nods before going back to where Y/n was writing something down in her notebook.

“What are you doing?” Akaashi sits down the bench, not giving Y/n any space on her left side, seeing as she was sitting on the end of the bench. He hovers his head around her shoulder. She clears her throat before scooching down the bench slightly. Moving her shoulder to signal for Akaashi to give her space. He doesn’t give her any space.

That’s not how a battle is won. A battle is won with persistence and dedication. You don’t let up in a battle. Odysseus never gave up once. So, Akaashi won’t either.

When Akaashi still doesn’t let up, Y/n stands up and moves to stand in a more open area. Akaashi moving to still hover around her. She laughs awkwardly and rubs her neck as she opens her notebook. “I’ve just been recording data and the number of serves and spikes that end up getting across the net. It’s nothing much, but the probability of getting a point has increased about six percent since the training camp.”

“That's amazing.” Akaashi uses his pointer finger to bring her gaze up to meet his. “You’re amazing.” Y/n likes Akaashi, she won’t lie. But she has a boyfriend. She loves her boyfriend, right? Her boyfriend is super nice to her. But he also has a ton of other girls that drool over him and he does nothing to stop them.

“You shouldn’t be doing this.” Y/n holds her notebook close to her chest and starts heading her way out of the gym but not before turning around and smiling at Akaashi, “See you tomorrow.”

Akaashi sighs deeply. He feels entranced, Bokuto slapping his back breaks the spell. Bokuto chuckles when Akaashi shakes his head and stands upright again. Suppressing a smile, Akaashi fiddles with his hands, wringing his fingers with his other hand. Shifting the weight of his body from one side to the other, he looks to Bokuto.

“I have an idea.”

Akaashi was not stalking Y/n’s boyfriend. He was just carefully watching him for the time being so he could actually show Y/n that he was indeed, cheating on her. Akaashi was disgusted with what he saw. Her boyfriend practically made no attempt to hide that he was shoving his tongue down other girl’s throats. Bokuto just clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Y/n’s boyfriend had a pretty well-organized routine, the exact same place at the exact same time, just with a different girl each occurrence.

Now, the next step was getting her to actually witness her boyfriend in the act of cheating.

“L/n, please just let me show you what I'm talking about!” Y/n is throwing volleyballs at Akaashi as he tries to dodge them.

Maybe claiming that her boyfriend was a man whore in the middle of practice wasn't a good idea. A volleyball grazes his arm as he leans to the right, for someone who claimed to lack athletic talent, she sure could aim like a pro.

“My boyfriend is not a cheater Akaashi!” She throws another one from the basket that actually lands itself on his calf. Letting out a short yelp of pain Akaashi falls to the floor, Y/n immediately ceases and rushes to help him.

“Oh my-I am so sorry Akaashi.” She covers her face with her hands as she mumbles out apologies.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” Then it clicks in his head, “Well actually you can do one thing.”

“What is it? I’ll do anything. I am so sorry.”

“Let me show you what I’m trying to tell you.” Akaashi feigns innocence as Y/n huffs. But she does follow him to the small café later that day. She orders a bubble tea and sips it silently as she and Akaashi sit down at a secluded table.

Akaashi feels successful when she sees her boyfriend kissing the other girl. But seeing Y/n cover her mouth and her eyes get teary does not make him feel good in the slightest. “I want to leave.” Her voice cracks as she stands up.

“One second, can I have your drink?” Y/n slides it to Akaashi. He walks over to her boyfriend, ex-boyfriend now, and he tugs him up. As they stand face to face, Akaashi makes a closing statement. “I’ve wanted to do this since training camp.” Akaashi pulls off the lid and dumps what was left of the drink onto the guy. Leaving him soaked in tea and his face screwed into a distasteful look.

How could this guy even hold a candle to Y/N?

“Let's go.” Akaashi grabs her by her hand and walks with her outside of the café.

She sniffles as they keep walking down the street. “Thanks, I guess. I mean, for showing me that he is actually an asshole.”

Even though Akaashi feel resigned to just being her friend, he’s glad that he’s able to be around her. Maybe one day, just like Odysseus, he’ll be able to finally get what he wants. That day, wasn’t today however.

But soon enough it would be.

[uwukillmenowowo]

Hi!! May I please request something for a Starlo (Undertale Yellow) x Reader, maybe with Starlo taking care of reader after they got into a battle and now gets to tend to any cuts they may have and overall just being a worried protective mess? Thank you so much in advance, I hope you have a great day!

OML YES!!!

STARLO IS MY SECOND FAV IN UT: YELLOW

≧ ♥ ᴗ ♥ ≦

[Dalv will always be my number one- ]

Stay By My Side

(Starlo X M!Reader)

(+ Platonic Feisty Four)

Notes:

Reader will take the place of Clover

Reader will be male just because-

You've been living with Starlo and the others for a while.

They're practically your family

You do know that North Star is Starlo's actual name but you call him Starlo more just cuz it's shorter to pronounce

When you dreamed too much of your home on the surface

You left...

You found yourself traveling with Ceroba within the Lab

But that ended when you two came into contact with Chujin's robotic creation

WHO TRIED TO KILL YOU!

Thankfully you survived.

But after the tiering battle, you went back home

To Starlo

Hurt... Beaten... Battered. No weapons... low HP.

Slowly, you made your way out of the lab, blood leaking out of your wounds.

{Second POV}

~~~~~

You took in deep breaths as you slowly made your way back to the Wild East. You had no more items so you were clinging to life on one HP.

You couldn't find a save point nearby either. For some reason, all the previous save points you found before were suddenly gone. You didn't know why but you knew that you didn't want to fight Axis all over again.

With a heavy breath you finally made it back. Ed was the first one you saw. You called out to him, but barely. Your voice was horse with the screaming you did.

As soon as he saw you he ran over and picked you up carefully, yelling for the other four for a first aid kit.

You were carried to Starlo's house and you laid on his bed while the others either prepared bandages, or were panicking. While they did that, Starlo went into his room and sat on the side of the bed, watching you carefully as you took in small breaths.

'How... how did this happen?' He thought to himself as he brought his hand to your forehead, brushing away some of your hair out of your face. 'My poor deputy...'

He and the others already cleaned up and patched your wounds but most still had no bandages....

You were kinda just bleeding all over his bed...

After a few hours, the Feisty five patched up all your wounds. Starlo stayed by your side to keep an eye on your well-being. It's been days and you haven't shown any signs of waking up.

Before, Starlo was only worried and VERY SLIGHTLY panicking. After all, you were his one and only deputy, he knew you were strong.

But after days of seeing you still asleep, Starlo was now VERY VERY WORRIED and panicked 27/7 whenever he walked into his room and saw you still sleeping.

The others visited you every now and then. Each time, Starlo would complain to them. They would have to listen to Starlo's absolute panicked rants about "What if you never woke up?" "Were you in a coma?" "How long would you be asleep?" "Will all your wounds heal properly?" "You aren't eating and drinking as much- Will you be okay?"

Ed is refusing to panic, he's the one to keep telling Starlo that you'd be fine... There is a thought in the back of his head telling him that you won't.

Moray would sympathize with Starlo but say that worrying won't help much and that they should do what they can to make sure that you're still okay... She is worried that you might never wake up.

Ace is the most annoyed with this. I mean- You survived all four of them, and Starlo, you're pretty talented. There's no way you'd just stay down like that.......... right?

Mooch is just neutral with this. She does worry for you but she's not OVERLY worried. But while no one is looking she would whisper, "Please don't die. I don't want my partner in crime to get caught....... But if you do, at least wake up and sign all your inheritance to me."

After a few more days, you finally woke up. You wondered why your body felt so heavy and warm. You were shocked and embarrassed when you saw Starlo cuddling himself into your side.

You tried to recall what happened but you only remembered getting your ass kicked and running into Ed. You chuckled and raised your hand to Starlo's head before patting it.

Knowing him, he probably stayed by your side the whole time you were asleep. But for how long, you didn't know.

After a while, Starlo finally woke up. When he saw you looking down at him, patting his head, he immediately went wide eyed and hugged you tight. You laughed before hugging him back.

"Don't laugh at me, Partner! You've been out for days!" Starlo grabbed you by your shoulders and brought your head to his chest. Starlo kept telling you how much you worried him, how much he missed you, and how you should NEVER GO ANYWHERE NEW WITHOUT EITHER HIM OR ONE OF THE OTHER FOUR.

The next few hours were spent with Starlo constantly worrying over you, telling you that you should always be with him so that you wouldn't get hurt. You appreciated it.

Starlo was your best friend ever since you came to the underground. Dare you say that you kind of have a crush on him. He's caring and sweet, able to protect you but trusts you can protect yourself, overprotective but respectful of your boundaries. He's..... everything you've been searching for.

By that I mean, you've read a lot of stories when you were younger. You've always loved the heroes because of their strong sense of justice. 'Starlo was just like them...' You thought and brought your hand to his face, caressing his cheek.

Starlo looked at you and blushed. "P-artner? Deputy!? [R-R-Reader]?" He stammered, embarrassed since you were caressing his appendages very gently. When you smiled up at him as well- Dear Asgore, Starlo thought he was going to pass out.

You were so small compared to him, and the way you were looking at him just made him want to kiss you right there... But... Are you okay with it..?

"Again, Sorry for making you worried." You apologized. You were going to stretch your arms but Starlo held your wrists in place, your hands remained on his cheeks and Starlo nuzzled into your hands. "You... Shouldn't have... Next time, I want you to stay by my side... okay, Partner?" Starlo looked away while nesting his head in your hands.

You chuckled and caressed his face more, making him smile at your delicate touch.

[queenquinzel715]

1. John Shelby 18+

Wrd count 1,231

1. John Shelby 18+

Y/n P.O.V

If you told me I'd end up being a nanny to the peaky blinders I'd laugh. I was looking for a job when I got back from being a nurse in France. You would think I would've been able to get a job at a hospital, but no one will hire a gypsy. I met the Lees when I was at the fairs to become their first aid, and that's when I met Polly. She had the kids by herself, and they were pulling her around. I was standing next to the dart game, listening to them whine and beg for all different stuff. With one quick 'hey' they all stopped to look at me.

"Straighten up and act like you have some home training." I tell them with a small smile to Polly.

She asked me if I had any experience with kids, and when I told her my job experiences she asked if I could be a nanny. She told me it pays well, comes with rooming, and will have protection. I accepted when Katie asked me to stay with them, because she had fun with me that day.

The day I moved in was the day I met John. He gave me a hard stare as he was leaving, and didn't come back until dinner only to leave again. I can see why the kids act out, they want attention from their father. The longer I stayed the more angry I got, so one day while the bigger kids were in school I took the smaller one with me to the betting shop. I sat the toddler with Polly as I went to find John. I walk inside his office to him, lighting his cigarette.

"Why are you here? Who's hurt?" He walks around his desk to stand in front of me.

"No one is visibly hurt, but your kids are hurting to see you." I told him. "Yet you wonder why they act up so much."

"I see them when I can." He scuffs as he turns away.

"You see them when they eat dinner. You stay at the Garrison until late night when you could at least stay to put them to bed, and then go to the pub." I rant my frustration out.

"Who do you think you are?" He scolds.

''I'm the one who's drying your kid's face when they are crying for their father who would rather be at the Garrison than be with them!" I get louder as I talk.

With that I stormed out of his office, I couldn't look at him anymore. I sat with Polly until school got out, and she laughed at how long I lasted holding in my true colors. I told her I can't accept men who have an army of kids only to ignore them. As I leave John comes out of his office. He kisses his daughter on her head, looks me in the eyes, and walks away.

After that day he would stay after dinner, read to them, play with them, and would help put them to bed. It took a month for them to actually believe John would keep doing this when he was actually free. At some point once the kids were finally calm we would sit, and talk about anything that happened that day. It would be mostly me listening to his war stories.

"Thank you." He says randomly as we sit in the quiet.

"What for?" I smile.

"For yelling at me in my office. I should've been here." He sits his cup on the table with a sigh. "I won't be out long tonight." He put his coat on as I stood at the stairs.

"I've been told that before." I joke with a big yawn.

He chuckles at me while putting his cap on, and walking closer to me.

"I mean it this time. I know you stay up when you know you should be sleeping." I couldn't help looking down when my face started to burn from his playful scolding.

''I just know sometimes your work is dangerous, and it helps to know you got back." I mumble.

I almost jump out of my skin when I feel his hand move over my shoulder to run my thumb along my cheek. I look up to him closer than before. We lean against the banister of the stairs as he deeply kisses me. I hold onto his waist to keep him close, but we are pulled away from a small giggle.

"Bed, young lady." I call up to Katie who's somewhat hiding in the doorway of her room.

When I look back to John he's smirking at me, and with a quick kiss he walks out. I sigh while I walk up the stairs, putting Kate back to bed, and getting ready for bed myself. I change into my nightgown, roll the ends of my hair, and grab the book I've been reading. I'm halfway through my chapter when I hear the door downstairs close, and footsteps coming up the stairs. With quick quiet movements I grab my revolver to stand at the opening of the door that faces the top of the stairs perfectly. Once I see the top of the person's head I load the gun. They stop at the sound of the click, and raise their hands.

"It's only me, love." John chuckles.

"Sorry I didn't know you'd be back this soon." I put the gun away as he walks in behind me.

"I couldn't stop thinking about something." He stalks toward me as he smirks.

I slowly sit down as I keep eye contact with him. He kisses me with his hands on my thighs, and follows me as I lay back. We throw his clothes around the room as we feel each other's body, and once it comes to my nightgown he slowly runs his hands up my body. He groans when he sees I don't have anything under the gown. I wrap my legs around his waist to pull him closer, and to feel him rub against me.

"John please." I moan into his shoulder.

Once he enters me he hits the hilt, stopping for a moment to kiss me deeply, and let me relax a little. Before he starts moving he grabs the metal headboard to stop it from hitting the wall. The way I could feel every inch of him as he would vigorously pound away. I had to bite his shoulder to stop myself from moaning out, but I would whine out when he would grind a way that sent a shock through my body. With a loud groan and a muffled scream we finish together, and fall onto the bed.

That night changed a lot about how John would act around the house. He would come around a lot more, he told the kids that I wasn't the nanny anymore that I was his girlfriend. Katie kept telling him she knew he liked me, and that he waited so long. Of course I ended up pregnant not long after, and he proposed. Once I became too pregnant, the kids and I had to stay with Ada for our own protection. John still was able to make it to see his little girl, Diana, to be born.

[lovesick-feelings]

can you pls write hcs for yan withered foxy? istg hes so underrated;-;;

Your right dear reader! It's strange how unpopular Withered Foxy is compared to his variants. Well, that is if you remove all the fan-made comics with Withered Foxy as a protagonist (っ´ω｀c) Either way, I think it's because a ton of people see the original characters to be the same as the withered but broken and traumatized ⊙︿⊙ I personally see them as different entities tho. Anyways thank you for requesting lovely reader!! \(♡´౪<♡)/

❤ Years of loneliness and neglect have left Withered Foxy in total disarray. He can’t remember the last time he left the dark, dusty service room. He could always roam around, but what’s the point when there is nothing out there for him? Normally, he’d recline and reminisce about his short time on stage, but lately, it's been harder with how restless he has grown. That is until he hears two employees talking beyond the door. Something about a new guard being hired? 

❤ Like every other Foxy, he appears reserved. Your first couple of nights will be him stalking you from the shadows of the hall. As he observes, he likes to fill in the gaps about what you could be like. You smile at a drawing a kid has made of him. Do you have a soft spot for children? Or maybe you're a fan of his? Either way, the more he watches it fills his head with delusions. Ones where maybe… you were meant to be his.

❤ Only when given an opportunity will Withered Foxy start talking to you. He’ll inquire about you; ask you who you are, why you chose this job, and such. Oh, how sweet you are to him. So patient even though you were alarmed by his presence. You’re so amusing to him; perhaps he should look after you more. After all, there are things worse than him in this pizzeria. He’ll make it his duty to visit you every single night.

This man has two sides to him: 

❤ Very weary. He doesn't feel the motivation to do anything besides seeing you. He’ll shuffle his way to your office and talk about anything on his mind. Even if you don’t talk back, the thought of you listening to his ramblings about the good ol’ days comforts him greatly. If you're interested, he’ll even recite his classic pirate stories. He's very hesitant when he realises he's talked for too long, regardless of how much you assure him that you enjoy listening to him. He’s mindful of his off-putting appearance, so unless given permission, he won't come any closer. To show him you are not afraid, you can reach out to him. Beware as this can unlock some unwanted clinginess. 

❤ The other is frantic. Impulse drives him to become more animalistic. When the only thing pledging his mind is you, what else do you expect from him? Instead of his casual greeting, he hides in the dark, ranting about you belonging to him only. Before you can process, he's already launched himself onto you. He grips you with every ounce of strength to make sure you don't leave him again. He holds you tightly until you bruise, and if that doesn't stop you from struggling, he’ll mark you instead. The last thing on his mind is the agony you feel. Only to be with you, no matter the cost. What's worse is the way he “compliments'' and patronizes your helplessness. He goes on about how beautiful the color red is on you. How, if this were anyone else, you would have been killed in seconds. Of course, he could never because he loves you~. The Flashlight is your only hope of getting you out of this madness.

❤ Once he resets, it takes a second for panic to set in. The poor fox does anything he can to make up for whatever he’s done. He doesn't know what he's supposed to bring, so he's breaking the first aid cabinet and rushing everything he finds to you. With all the overwhelming emotions you give him, he can’t control his mood shifts. He doesn’t want to wound you; yet, he doesn't want to leave your side either.  

“You know yur ol’ Foxy adore ye too much to hurt his treasure~” 🥰

“This is your fifth time biting me” 😐

❤ Withered foxy is both possessive and jealous. The mere thought of you seeing someone else sends him into panic mode. Anyone he deems to be getting too close he’ll maul into pieces. Even his withered friends are not safe from his scowls whenever they get too buddy-buddy. He wasn't the first animatronic to greet you, but you gave him your heart when you welcomed him with that beautiful smile of yours. To him, that’s the equivalent of marriage. 

❤ The only other animatronics he trusts to leave you with is Balloon Boy and JJ. Withered Foxy resents the Toys with a passion. Despite this, he still has a soft spot for BB, as he cannot bring himself to hate children, and they make a good team. Same for JJ except he empathizes with her being left behind. They sometimes follow Withered Foxy whether he wants them to or not. On rare occasions, he leaves BB or JJ in charge of watching you when he’s away. If you're good with children you could use this opportunity to your advantage. 

❤ His paranoia always gets the best of him. He’s the type to have a dream about you cheating on him and get angry at you for it. Heaven forbid he finds someone showing any type of romantic gesture too. He will gut them until they are nothing but mush in front of you. He won’t beg or talk you into staying. He’s dragging you into the parts and service to trap you in a suit. If he doesn't, regardless, you’ll still be stuck in the parts and service room. Resisting or begging won’t help much with him thinking you don't know any better. Maybe you would've been better off being killed in a suit.

“If there be one thing a pirate never shares between his crew it be his treasure! And you, me jewel, shall be with me forever~ ”