#THROWING MY HANDS IN THE AIR! GOD! I want the writing to give a shit about how it constructs Dana and what that implies about the kind of

[fellhellion]

it feels like im reading against the intended tone of the relationship and character but god. if you take dana’s actions purely at face value the kind of person it paints is like. One I have a lot of complicated feelings about. 

[applecrispy]

Oct. 2 ; Begging

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Male! Reader x Finnick Odair (The Hunger Games)

HEADS UP!

Second Kinktober prompt, set! Enjoy this drabble

Ended up being a bit sweeter and not too 'begging' as the prompt said, but hey! There's always another chance to re-write this after kinktober!

Also, ignore the fact I haven't posted day one yet ajdhkcjks I'll probably post it later since I'm a tad stuck on it.

And how out of practice I am in writing- but I swear, all my thirsts will (hopefully) get better overtime!

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Finnick moans, his hands claw at the kitchen counter top as his boyfriend pounds into him from behind. He aches a bit, but god it's amazing and worth it all.

He had teased (Y/n) earlier today, he was in the mood, and seems like (Y/n) was as well after having Finnick drop to his knees and suck him off from under their dinning table. He wouldn't admit it straight up, but Finnick has been itching for his lover's touch since a few days ago when (Y/n) had returned from his trip to District 13 to check in. The kiss they shared at the station, Finnick liked it a bit too much, maybe he missed (Y/n)'s lips against his, the gentle touch on his sides, how he didn’t push him-

"(Y/n)- baby, fuck!" Finnick chokes out, another moan leaving him.

His chest felt cold from being pressed against their marble counter, but (Y/n) simply continued to piston into him. A hand gently holding his thigh up to the side, granting him a new angle, and Finnick felt his legs shake, and at some point he's pinned to the counter. He can barely keep himself up on the floor, and (Y/n) seems to notice because Finnick yelps briefly as he's flipped over and he's now with his back to the counter, staring up at (Y/n) as he hikes his legs up. Now presented with a canvas, Finnick reaches up and wraps his arms around his boyfriend's back, moaning as he tries to bite the noises back by biting his bottom lip.

His hair is disheveled, messy, and not in the usual styled and seductive manner that his ex-stylists used to fix it into, but rather into something raw and honest. His fingers draw down (Y/n)'s back as he shudders and soon sputters on a noise and breath.

"Another- inside, please-" Finnick begs quietly, he doesn’t care how he aches faintly from the past three orgasms he's already had which have stolen all the air from him, he needs another load inside of him. One more.

(Y/n) smiles slightly, both love and pure unadulterated adoration, and he leans down to groan into Finnick's ear "You want another inside? And here I was thinking of pulling out and finishing all over your thighs instead... why so desperate?" He teases, and Finnick scoffs as much as he can before he breaks into a choppy whimper mixed with a moan "I- Oh right there... There! Nail right there!" He can't help but purr out, and when (Y/n)'s thrusts slow and intentionally miss, Finnick is digging his face involuntarily into (Y/n)'s neck "Please- please please... So good, please, inside. Another, right... right tHE-" his words are cut off and hit a high as he throws his head back, and if it weren't for the gentle hand on the back fo his head that stops the movement by catching his head and curling a hand into his hair, Finnick would've slammed his head open. But he's too lost to properly adore the action, instead he only lets out a heavy, and noisey high pitched moan.

(Y/n) had shifted his thrusts, and was now thoroughly fucking into him, right into his prostate as he had asked, and the tease just chuckles breathily.

"There?"

"Yes... Yes! Please inside, inside." His last few words mold into messy shapes and noises, still coherent in a sense, but debaunched with his ecstasy. He lets out another softer whimper, and Finnick swears this man is the only one who has been able to reduce him to these honest words, begs, and noises. He's a mess, but shit it's so nice.

It doesn't take too much longer, and (Y/n) gives a small tug to Finnick's hair, reeling his mind back to quickly ask for honest confirmation "Inside?" And Finnick can't help how he begs.

"YES! Inside, inside, please- please (Y/n), need it. Please, need to feel it, feel you-" and Finnick is cut off with a yelp and moan as his hips are grabbed and he's pulled down to be plush against (Y/n)'s hips. He shudders as a weak orgasm leaves him, untouched, oversensitive, and the feeling of being filled and pumped with a orgasm once more in him, Finnick lets the fingers he hadn’t noticed that dug down (Y/n)'s back fall lax.

He lets his expression drop, content as he bathes in the after glow, breathing in heavily as he lets out weak little noises. He gently holds onto (Y/n) as his partner seems just as breathless as he is, pulling back to smile down at him as Finnick feels his heart briefly flutter at how he looks at him.

"Seems like you've missed me." And Finnick groans in complaint and jokingly tries to shove (Y/n) away with a little tired grin on his own face "Oh piss off!" He scoffs out a playful laugh despite how breathless it sounds, quickly diving in to kiss (Y/n) once more in something sweeter.

Yeah, he had missed him.

[deesixxs]

CW; breeding k!nk, slight choking k!nk, very rough and dark!abby. That’s all I can really think of, have fun!

Authors note:

Dni if ageless, under 18 or a man!!

Thank you for reading this, this is my first ever time writing a fic, if I need to do anything to improve please let me know! This is the raw unedited version and I hope you enjoy

Love yall!

You have never been so bored, so horny. Abby was at the gym and you had nothing to do except lay on the bed and wait around. You groan and you grumble when an idea pops into your mind. Sure, it’s dumb and possibly dangerous. You decide to give Abby a call. Calls are only reserved for emergencies but you being this horny should count as one. The phone rings and you are met with no answer. You try again about 4 more times before she answers. “Is it an emergency?!” She sounds panicked. “I’m horny and I need you.” You respond back. She’s furious. “Really? Are you serious? Fuckin’ wait until I’m home” she hangs up the phone and you got the answer you expect, but not the one you wanted. You wanted her to speed home and fuck you the moment she walks in the door. You begin to grow impatient and start to touch yourself, you pick up your phone and take a picture, sending it to Abby. You know it will drive her mad and it will get you in trouble, but maybe that’s the fun of it. You don’t receive a message back, she only leaves you on read. It’s what you would expect from her but still, you wish you could see her face when she received the picture. About 10 minutes later you hear the door slam and a heavy bang of her gym bag on the floor. The sound of footsteps filling your ears along with the fast thump of your heart. You know you’re in deep shit. The door slams open and you feel hands wrap around your ankles and pull you towards the end of the bed. The blonde girl sits down next to you on the edge of the bed and then props you over her knee. You know what’s about to happen. And you know it’s going to hurt and there will be no mercy. “Fucking whore. You couldn’t wait hm? You wanted to get punished didn’t you? So fucking stupid.” She strikes your ass open palmed with a thwack. “Answer me you little shit. You wanted this?” Your mind races, barely able to form coherent thoughts. “Y-yes” you finally mumble out before another blow meets your round, and now red ass. She grabs you by your hair and throws you onto the bed, your ass up in the air, facing her. She places her cold hand against your spine and pushes down, making you arch. Without warning she licks a fat stripe from your clit all the way to your hole. She slurps up all your juices mercilessly. She kneads your ass and smacks it once more before grabbing you by your neck and pulling your back to her chest, you let out a small whimper and a yelp. “You gonna be a good girl and listen to me? Huh, princess?” Her hot breath tickling your ear and your neck. She pushes you with full force back against the bed before she stands back up. You already know what she’s going to grab, you don’t have to see to know what’s going on. You hear her rummage through the closet before pulling out a black box. She pulls out a breeding strap and buckles it to her hips. She sits back on the bed and without warning she slams deep into you, immediately hitting your cervix. You let out a loud yelp and your back arches upward. It hurts, the immediate impact to your insides. She doesn’t care, she keeps going and continues to pound fastly into you. “God, so fucking tight. Look how this pussy just swallows and begs for my cock.” She whispers in between thrusts. You can feel her hips start to falter and her breaths get quicker, you know she is about to cum, and so are you. You’re quick to get to the edge just before she runs her finger over your clit, rubbing tight circles. It makes you cum instantly, you let out a loud moan of pleasure, “good fucking girl, just wait, I need to cum..” she’s overstimulating you, chasing her own release, and just as she cums, you feel a warm fluid filling your insides, you can feel it drip down your thighs, she pulls out in awe, seeing the cum drip out of your wet and puffy pussy. She is quick to take off the strap and grab you water. “Here, drink” she passes you the water and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before kissing your forehead. “Was I too rough? Are you ok? I’m sor-“ you cut her off with a kiss to shut her up “it was perfect my girl, I love you”

[velvetstreets]

Something where Jack and the reader have a great sex life but the reader isn’t nearly as experienced as him and gets insecure sometimes and Jack reassures her - doesn’t have to be exact but something along those lines pretty please :))

None of the people in my writings portray the actual people I write about! It’s all a work of fiction, I have no idea how they are/act irl.

Warnings: fluff, smut, fingering (f!recieving) penetrative sex (f!receiving), swearing,

“Hey. Please don’t do that. Cmon’, talk to me baby..” Jack dipped his head down to meet your eyes, having tucked your chin into your neck, embarrassed.

You huffed, throwing your self back into the bed, throwing your hands over your face as you groaned.

Jack gently curled his hands around your wrists, pulling your hands from your face so he could look at you.

“Y’gonna tell me what’s wrong? Or am I gonna have to get it out of you another way…” he trailed off, a smirk forming on his face.

“Jack… don’t-“ you warned him, but it was too late.

Jack’s fingers dug into your skin, tickling you everywhere as you gasped and erupted in giant laughs and giggles.

“Jack!”

“Y/N!” He copied you with a sly grin.

“Fuck off!” You giggled loudly, squirming in his grip.

“Tell me what’s wrong!” He countered, smiling as he continued his tickle attack on you.

“Fine, FINE!” You gasped for air as he let up.

He laid in between your legs, chin on your tummy as you regained your breath.

“I just- hnnnnggg,” you groaned as your threw your arms over your face.

Jack waited patiently, giving a reassuring rub and peck against your tummy.

“I just feel so… inexperienced compared to you. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I just- I- I want it to be good for you too. I just- yeah, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing and I feel dumb.” You huffed your confession, arms still over your face.

“Y/N,” Jack shuffled up and removed your arms from your face, his hands cupping your cheeks, forcing you to look at him.

“Every moment with you is good for me, it's fucking great for me. Yeah our experiences aren’t the same, but they aren’t supposed to be. Nobody’s is,” he said caressing your cheek.

“And none of that shit matters anyways. Doesn’t matter if you’ve slept with 50 people or 5 or none at all. Just because I may have technically been with more people-“ he said raising his hands to do air quotes. “Doesn’t mean that this isn’t new to me too. I mean fuck-, d’you have any idea the effect you have on me?” He questioned, leaning to plant kisses along your jaw.

“M’always afraid I’m gonna bust too quick every time you let out one of those sweet little sighs,” he mouthed at your neck.

“Or that m’not doing enough to get you there, that I’m not gonna be able to make you feel as fuckin’ deliciously insane as you make me feel when you tighten around me-“ he groaned, grinding his hips into yours; a thumb reaching down to erotically swipe at your nipple.

You let out a pleasant sigh which turned into a whine, your hand threading through his hair to tug on, resulting in a deep groan from Jack.

“Fuck baby,” Jack’s mouth found yours, desperate to feel your soft lips against his, to meld together and never separate. God he could kiss you for hours upon hours. The way he melted into you was euphoria, why would he ever wanna be anywhere else, with anyone else?

Jack's hands were practically shaking, he was electrified by your soft gasps and touch, he couldn't wait to show you what you meant to him.

"Y'make me feel jittery, like I'm on a sugar high," he groaned, kissing your neck, and down to your chest. "And I wake up every day, and can't believe you're mine. I get to kiss you and hug you," he explained.

"And fuck you-" he mouthed at your lips as he rolled his hips against yours. You let out a moan, your hips reacting on their own accord, wanting to meet his delicious bulge again.

"Please..." you whispered.

"Hm? Please what, baby?" Jack teased; you felt his grin press into the crevice of your neck.

"Please, take care of me Jack. Want it... want you, bad." You struggled to form a cohesive sentence, his roaming hands and mouth and the roll of his hips into yours were driving you crazy.

"Yeah? My pretty girl's gonna let me take care of her? Let me fuck her how she deserves? Gonna let me make you cum?" He taunted you.

"Yes, yes, please Jack-" You nodded furiously, grasping at the fabric of his shirt, desperate to feel him.

"Okay, princess, I got you." Jack promised, kissing your soft lips.

His big hands swept under your shirt, slowly pushing it up your body, littering kisses all over your tummy and up your chest, before taking it off. Jack let out a groan of approval, kissing you again to calm his heart rate down a bit.

"Mmh-, Jack..." your brows slightly furrowed together, tugging at his shirt. Jack couldn't help but chuckle before tearing his own shirt off.

Your hands immediately went to his torso, palms sliding up from his tummy to his chest, exactly as he had done to you. You wet your lips, ogling his porcelain skin, his chest smattered with hair and freckles.

The two of you sat like that for a few seconds, just admiring eachother, nothing but soft pants of neediness filling the room

Jack leant down and pressed a few kisses to your lips and one to your nose - making you giggle, before he continued his plan of action. You lifted your hips so he could slip your shorts off easily, to which he pressed kisses to your pooch, and one to your clothed mound. Jack stood up momentarily, pulling his sweats off before climbing back over you.

He grinned, dimples digging into his cheeks as his eyes roamed over you. "So pretty..." he exhaled, his thumb rubbing over the skin right under your bra.

You weren't wearing anything special, just a simple black bra, with mismatched purple panties. But it didn't matter. None of those details that would've plagued your mind - whether it be your inexperience with sex, your mismatched underwear, if you shaved or not, stretch marks, the way your breasts looked, - none of them mattered. Jack loved them all, he looked at you like you were the sun.

"So fuckin' pretty, angel..." he spoke as if he was in a trance. "So good," he said as he settled in-between your legs, his nose tracing against yours. Jack slipped his hands behind your back, unclasping your bra and throwing it to the side, his grin digging deeper into his face as he was met with your breasts. He happily leant down to give them his undivided attention, kissing, licking, sucking. One thing about Jack, he loved toying with your nipples and clit, wanting to see and feel them grow hard against his touch. "So soft, all mine..." He groaned as they grew hard, causing his dick to do the same, and continued to mouth at your breasts. He left a few hickies against your chest in his wake, before moving on.

"So smart, so funny, so wet-" he said as he slipped two fingers under your panties and ran them through your folds, wetting them with your slick. Jack pulled his fingers back, now pressing the pads of his fingers against your swollen clit.

"Oh, fuck," you gasped, your back arching, chest pressing against his.

"I know baby, I know. Feels good, huh?" He panted.

"Y-Yeah- so good," you sighed.

"Yeah? And how 'bout now?" He asked before working his fingers into your wet swollen pussy.

"Oh, god-" you whimpered, your eyes squeezing shut in pleasure as he began to pump into you. Jack kept his thumb on your clit, pressing hard against the little nub every time he thrusted into you.

"Fuck, Jack- I'm gonna-" you gasped as the pads of his fingers tapped against that spot in you, your pussy contracting around him.

"C'mon baby, you got it, take what you need mamas-" Jack encouraged you, unable to keep his hips from writhing against the mattress as he watched you tip over the edge of your orgasm.

Your insecurities and worries melted away as you let the euphoric pleasure wash over you. Jack slowed his thrusts, until stopping them completely as he witnessed you sink into the mattress. He gave you a moment to calm down, before he pulled his fingers out and started to place kisses all over your face.

You shivered, grinning as you pressed your face into his neck, wanting to be as close as possible.

"Y'alright?" He asked, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you so you now laid on top of him, and he laid on his back.

"Mhm, the best." You nodded as he held you. And although he gave you a phenomenal orgasm, you couldn't help but want more; and you knew he did too by the hard outline of his dick through his black briefs, but you knew he wouldn't do anything until you initiated it. So you did.

You angled his face towards yours, bringing him in for a hungry kiss, making him sharply inhale.

"Need more." You whined against his mouth.

"Yeah? My baby needs more?" Jack grinned.

You nodded before you slid your panties off, and tugged his briefs after he nodded at you.

His dick was always a sight to see. Big but not intimidating, and girthy. You couldn't help but drool a bit as you watched his sticky cock blurted out a few drops of pre-cum.

You licked at his head, earning a hiss from Jack, and you smiled; loving the reassuring feeling that he loved this as much as you did. You wrapped a hand around him, jerking his cock a few times, making Jack grunt, eyes shut and brows furrowed as you lapped at him a few times.

"B-Baby, please- not gonna last if you keep, fuck-" he groaned as you swirled your tongue around his head.

"Sorry-" you giggled before moving up to straddle his hips.

"Don't be. Just wanna cum when I'm in you." he said panting as his hands rested on your hips.

"Well, you technically were," you grinned at him cockily.

"You know what I mea- oh fuck," he moaned as you sank down onto him.

You started to grind your hips against his, working him into you more until he reached the hilt. Your arousal seeped through you, drenching his cock with you, creating a nice sticky mess against his trimmed pubes, matting them together. Your clit rubbed against his pelvic bone, making you throw your head back as your palms found home on his broad chest.

"Wait, wait-" you heard him say, his hands stilling your hips.

He pulled out momentarily, and flipped the two of you over, so you were on your back.

"M'supposed to be taking care of you, remember?" He smirked, planting a kiss to your lips.

Jack sat back on his haunches, dick in his hand as his jerked his cock a few times, leaning over and tapping the head at your clit and sliding the length of his cock through your folds, but not fully putting it in yet.

"She wants me real bad, huh?" Jack teased, loving how he'd almost slip into you, and then pull out and keep pressing against your slick folds.

You let out a frustrated whine, and Jack chuckled. He finally slipped the head past your entrance, slowly thrusting into your sopping pussy.

"Fuck, fuck, so warm and tight- fuckin' hell," he exhaled, nuzzling his face into your neck as he held himself up by his forearms.

Jack started to snap his hips a little faster as he felt you relax, his tip kissing your core, making you cry out as you held him closer to you.

"Jack, oh my fucking god!" You whined, threading one of your hands into his curly locks, tugging on them every time he thrusted.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you gasped, hips trying to meet his as he fucked you.

"Good girl- good fuckin' girl, taking this dick so well," Jack muttered in your ear, mouthing at your jaw as a thumb snuck inbetween the two of you to rub at your clit.

"shitshitshit, keep doing that, fuck-" you cried out. All your senses were on ten; you felt him everywhere, it made you dizzy in the best way. You felt your wetness becoming messy, dripping down between your cheeks, as it made Jack's glide smoother.

Neither of you had the ability to form a cohesive sentence anymore, only communicating through grunts, whines and moans.

You were close, the tight rope in your tummy reaching the last of its elasticity, about to snap at any moment. Jack felt it too, the way your walls hugged him only made his balls tighter, and he felt how full they were as they slapped against your ass.

"Shit puppy, not gonna last much longer-" Jack uttered into your neck.

"Cum in me, Jack, I need it," you panted.

You felt him nod in your neck, snapping his hips faster and harder, both of you just kissing the peak of your orgasms. You came first, walls squeezing his thick cock in pulses, raking your nails down his back as you moaned.

The tightness of your pussy and the sound of you cumming drove Jack to his release. His hips stuttered as he gave three sharp final thrusts, emptying his release in you with loud breathy grunts.

You stayed like that for a few minutes, enjoying the gentle floaty feeling of your orgasms, and feeling his cum spill from you, down your ass and over your thighs. You squeezed your thighs around him once more, reveling in the feeling.

Instinctively, you raked your nails against his sweaty scalp, making his shiver and nuzzle closer against you as he let out a "mmmm".

Jack finally brought his face out from your neck, eyes hooded and dreamy, completely in love with you.

He smiled, messily kissing you, not wanting to move from the warm cocoon you two had made.

He was about to pull out, but you locked your legs around him tighter.

"No. Not yet. Stay like this, please?" you pleaded, not wanting him to be apart from you.

"Of course, whatever you want, smush." He kissed you once more, settling his head on your chest, his arms smoothing up your back, laying his full weight on you as he let out a deep satisfied sigh.

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Tag list: @hoodharlow @moody4world @lcandothisallday @harlowthot @triplexdoublex @thinkingaboutjharlow @bbyharlow @primadxna-girl @curlyhairclub @inluvwithladybug @babyharleezy @harlowcomehome @rebelxsun @jackharloww @harlowsbby @iknowdatsrightbih

[sh1-n0bu]

This anon know what is good, i guess i never make a ask so i'm doing now. Can u do that concept with any character (and mc of course) , may a hybrid? Idk, sorry if is confuse, a lil nsfw maybe?

-🍑

✿ 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝙩𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙘𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 ✿

characters: cat!6reeze x nb!reader

warnings: fluff!!!! fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff! also modern au!

notes: wanted to take a break from writing smut and take inspiration from my own fluffy bby for this one. also @junerixi , simping for only one☝️anemo boy is an illness. i hope you recover soon😚 honkai:star rail ver can be read here!

art by Mechodes on twt

oh gods

a menace

a complete menace i say

you know that thing cats do? when they just keep a direct eye contact with you as their little fluffy paw slowly pushes your potted plant or a cup full of drink to the edge of the table while you watch hopelessly bc your hands are dirty or busy doing smt?

yeah, it’s the 5th time the flower shop owner is seeing you this week and your wallet is crying

it’s almost as if you two were sworn enemies in your past life and scaranya is out for blood

doesn’t have that much of a zoomie episodes but when he does oh boy

you better retreat into a safe place but even then you’re not safe from scaranya’s terrifying zoomie powers

he’s literally running and jumping around everywhere

the table, on top of the fridge, the curtains, on top of the washing machine, your little bookshelf - everywhere

scaranya is such a little shit (affectionately)

his preferred way of waking you up is faking puking noises and when you throw your covers off and literally zoom into the living room, he gives you a look as if saying “finally awake, you silly human slave”

sometimes he even jumps on top of your chest harshly but that’s only used if you’re oversleeping with your alarm clock snoozed for the past 20 minutes and you’re running late to work

despises baths with a burning passion

if you’re taking him anywhere a large body of water is, he’s trashing around, kicking, hissing, biting, scratching - the whole pack

after a successful bathing time, with added new scratch marks on yourself, he would not approach you until you fall asleep

after you have fell asleep, he would quietly approach your sleeping figure and give small, shy licks to the angry red scratches he caused as if apologizing for being so aggressive

hates rainy days too, especially the ones with thunder and lightning

jumps up 5 ft into the air if a thunder strikes and runs into your lap, shaking small body curling into himself with all of his cockiness and pride out the window

scaranya appreciates you greatly but he’s just a bit too bad at communicating and so he shows his affection by lapping up the scratches he gave you

“scaranya, aren’t you gonna go out to the back garden and play with the rest? it’s nice outside today”

hmph! what do you mean by play with the rest of the cats? he’s a royal! he’s superior! scaranya has never heard of such bullshit befor- oh! a bird! must. catch!

scaranya and miao gets into fights sometimes and whenever you separate them, scaranya goes to sulk in the corner of the house silently

until you go over to him with a sigh and pick him up gently, he doesn’t even resist - just choosing to simply curl his tail around your wrist

a solid 9/10 kitty if he would just stop being a tsundere

art by Mechodes on twt

miao acts more like a guard dog than a cat sometimes

the smallest out of all the kitties yet also the strongest one. honestly the sheer amount of times miao has taken down a wild dog 10 times his size just keeps giving you more and more heart attack

doesn’t get zoomies, if anything he stops the other kitties’ zoomies if they go a bit too far - which most of the times escalate into scaranya and miao fighting

cleanse the land house through slaughter bug hunting

a sweet baby

miao’s preferred way of waking you up is to silently sit on your side of the bed and stare until you get that feeling of being watched and wake up to 2 piercing yellow eyes just staring holes into your soul

yes, you have yelled and fell off of your bed many times due to that

you found little miao at a dark alleyway, covered in blood and barely on the brink of death with his tiny paws twitching constantly

grew up malnourished on the streets with his 4 siblings dying out one by one, so due to that miao’s body is very small and he’s extremely territorial with you - his one and only sweet human

always leaves his scent on you by rubbing his head around your ankles

miao is indifferent when it comes to taking a bath, unlike scaranya, and he can be very obedient as well

when rubbing soap into his legs and washing his paws he would stretch out his limbs to make it easier for you to wash him - anything to lessen the load of his favorite human

he also seems to like your co-worker, zhongli a lot

one time you came home with zhongli due to a deadline of a great project coming closer and upon seeing him, miao immediately jumped into his lap, purring lowly, rubbing his head on zhongli’s hand

yes your heart broke at the betrayal and yes miao apologized with a dead rat in his mouth

but if it’s any other guests you’re bringing home, then miao would either get on top of the fridge and simply watch or hiss at the guest

oddly likes being in high places

one time, you made him a small necklace-collar thingy out of a few pearls and he wears that with pride, chest puffed out (a replica of his necklace)

loves sleeping on the lower parts of your bed at night. it’s soft, fluffy and he can keep an eye on you and keep you safe so it’s a win-win in miao’s book

“miao-miao, do you wanna come with me to the back garden to pick up the tomatoes?”

before you can even finish your question he’s already at the back door, staring at you expectantly with his tail thumping slowly against the floorboards

thanks to miao and kazunya your house will never get any bugs, roaches or mouses inside

if feeling incredibly vulnerable and soft, miao paws at your arm to ask for pets bc he just needs the comfort of his favorite human

literally a 9/10 kitty if he would just change his way of waking you up

art by ayon🌿 on twt

heinya is another little shit (affectionately)

he likes to cause trouble and drama here and there

also really enjoys spilling tea to you

it doesn’t matter if you’re waking up and is still groggy or just coming in through the front door, back from work - heinya is spilling all the drama of the shows he watched on the tv while you were away or the different birds he saw through the window - meowing away at you excitedly

another helpful hand

if you’re coming back from grocery shopping then heinya can take some of the smallest and lightest bagged things and dragging them to the kitchen alongside miao, kazunya and nyaether

heinya’s preferred way of waking you up is to make biscuits - you know that cute thing cats do with their paws squishing at their favorite spot over and over - on your stomach or lower back or! he just meows besides your ear over and over until you eventually wake up

the perfect alarm - heinya

he’s such a sweet baby

and heinya really likes watching real life crime documentaries for some reason

at first when you found this out, you couldn’t help but think heinya is going to murder you in your sleep but soon you realized he just loves crime related things

and bc he like crime related things, you bought heinya a cute spy glass shaped squeaky toy

when getting the zoomies, heinya decides to bite and kick at the spy glass shaped squeaky toy - making the toy let out squeaks at every little kick

heinya enjoys spending time outdoors, sniffing at the different scents wafting in the air, tracking down all different sorts of footsteps and paw marks with great interest - you sometimes wonder if heinya was a detective in his past life

loves to bring you all sorts of interesting things he found - an old ripped part of a newspaper article, a weirdly shaped leaf, a flower he has never seen before, a half bitten chicken still warm - wait where’d he get this?

loves to sleep using your hand as a pillow my cat does that to me so rip bc you have been captured by the amazing detective heinya and you won’t be moving for hours on end, let’s hope you had a nice snack and a toilet break beforehand

chose to wear the smooth, black satin you tied around his neck as a collar - either bc he loves to wear soft things or he just loves it bc you gave it to him

heinya is an incredibly affectionate kitty, always meowing for you for pets, cuddles and perhaps his favorite soft wet food? he’s been really good!

doesn’t really mind taking baths as well, if anything he uses this opportunity to shake bubbles everywhere!

for some reason, also loves to groom your hand. maybe it’s just something your kitties all share?

overall another solid 9/10 kitty, if you don’t mind being splashed with water and bubbles while bathing him

art by @bbadtime on tumblr

kazunya, me beloved

literally an angel, how could you ever be mad at him even as he took a whole bite out of your potted plants’ leaf?

another kitty that loves staying in high places like miao and stay outdoors like heinya

joins miao on his duty to cleanse the land house through slaughter bug hunting from time to time

a lazy, sweetheart of a cat that loves to sleep on warm places and the sunlight - you literally had to buy a window sling just for him to nap under the sunlight

another helpful hand!

will drag the lightest and smallest bagged things to the kitchen whenever you come back from grocery shopping - more so if it’s cat food

isn’t a picky eater but sometimes, just sometimes, prefers food with fish in it’s ingredients

kazunya is mostly tasked to wake you up by the other kitties bc he’s the sweetest

wakes you up by purring and snuggling with your face, neck, hands - anything just you in general

soon enough, the small fluff purring and cuddling you wakes you up and as a reward for waking up, kazunya gives you a small kiss - a lick to the tip of your nose - making you laugh

doesn’t meow a lot, only when he has to or if it’s an emergency such as the litter boxes not being cleaned, the food trays being empty etc

always gives you a kazunya kiss as a thank you

a gentle baby, even to the guests

whenever a guest comes over to your house, they always gush about the cute white cat with a small red streak in his fur

kazunya doesn’t get zoomies. even if he does it’s rare like only once a week

always grooms himself to keep himself clean, not to mention his white fur sparkling as well

surprisingly enjoys bath times, would even suggest you to bathe him by tugging on your sleeve then pointing to the bathroom with his fluffy paw!

however there’s just one thing that kazunya does that makes you shiver

it’s that he always, always! brings you dead animals or bugs. birds, rats, mouses, cockroaches, crickets - anything that he managed to hunt - he brings over to you with his tail swishing happily behind him

it’s considered a gift in cat language, you know that! but it’s just a bit dirty especially if he brings over different bugs. the rats, mouses and birds you can handle but the bugs brrr

one time, kazunya proudly brought you a dead wolf spider as you held back a tear and a screech, deciding to take his gift with a forced smile

you never recovered from that

a 10/10 kitty if he would just stop bringing you dead spide - kazunya is that a mf dead tarantula in your mouth?

art by os_Amaniwa on twt

another best kitty!

a sweet kitty that never complains!

helpful, never complains, never picky with his food - a literal angel

however sometimes nyaeather disappears randomly, coming back after a day or so

he always seems to be searching for something - his twin - you soon found out, by registering him and getting his pet password

and so you decided to help him reunite with his twin by putting up posters, articles, news on the internet, tv, radio - anything to make nyaether happy

after a whole half year of dedication and endless search, nyaether’s twin was finally found!

turns out the person who adopted nyaether’s twin was your co-worker, dainsleif, the quiet and mysterious tall man

after talking to him about the situation of the twin kitties, you both have come to an agreement to let the kitties have a play date once a week

when the day of the first play date has arrived an someone knocked on your door, your kitties gave you a confused look

upon taking nyaether in your arms, you walked over to the front door before unlocking it and letting dainsleif inside. as the blond man placed down the catbag and opened it, from inside stepped out a cute, similarly blonde furred kitty with a baby blue colored collar

upon seeing the kitty, nyaether jumped out of your arms and tackled his twin. cuddling her and licking at her face with a teary eyes - you and your co-worker dainsleif couldn’t help but laugh at the adorable situation

since then nyaether had made a silent oath to always be beside you and be your best kitty! you have done a lot for him by helping him reunite with his twin - nyumine - so he would do anything in his power to lessen your load!

nyaether’s preferred way of waking you up is by giving a gentle meow beside your ear and give your cheek three kisses - repeat the process on the other side until you eventually giggle and wake up

another kitty that doesn’t mind taking baths! however he just prefers the water to have a bit of bubbles to soothe his nerves

likes to sleep in your arms since he has separation anxiety like scaranya - due to the incident with his twin

“nyaether, keep the others in check okay? i’m going out on a quick grocery shopping!”

“myaaa!”

such a sweet baby🥹

his meows are higher pitched and not full “meow” like kazunya or miao’s instead it’s a short “myaa!”

a solid 11/10 kitty. highly recommend, get yourself a nyaether today!

art by os_Amaniwa on twt

a little shit AND a menace (affectionately)

very hyper too! sometimes you wonder if nyenti has ADHD but in cat version

it’s like he’s always in his zoomie mode as if to make up for having 2 kitties that barely has zoomies - which are miao and kazunya

his affectionate attitude doesn’t help as well

twirling, rubbing himself on your lap, hand, bageling his way around you - he’s always sticking close to you 24/7

one time as nyenti was rubbing himself on your hand while you were working on your computer for an important document, he tripped and fell on your keyboard - deleting your entire progress of work with a “myeeew!”

yes, you cried that night

unlike heinya, nyenti doesn’t really enjoy being outdoors - he just prefers to stay on your lap, lazily bathing in the sun - as he sometimes meows with heinya about some dramas

another kitty that loves to spill the tea to you

him and heinya meows your ears off with the things they have seen, watched, witnessed and heard - sometimes even adding some dirt on the other kitties such as kazunya eating leaves from your potted plants, scaranya sleeping on your hoodie bc he missed you, miao destroying the pantry during his duty to cleanse the land etc etc etc

nyenti’s preferred way of waking you up is to play with your hair. whether it be grooming at your hair, playing with them, tugging on the ends gently - it doesn’t matter which form - as long as nyenti wakes you up, that’s all

he also doesn’t do much hunting either, preferring to watch from the sidelines as the others chase some bugs and small animals they found

for some odd reason nyenti likes you to put flowers on top of his head or a flower shaped charms as a collar - his most favorite and preferred one being the white lily

cut the flower's bud and place it on top of nyenti upside down like it's a cone hat and nyenti would give you the biggest, affectionate "myew!" while rolling around on the ground, showing you his tummy

a sweet kitty if he would just stop being a little zoomie induced shit

nyenti is another kitty that hates taking baths

doesn't react as aggressive as scaranya but he likes to yell his defiance a lot and i mean a lot

overall, a solid 8.5/10 kitty if he would just stop meowing loudly in your ears everytime you take him for a bathtime, making you more and more deaf

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Hello!! Love your writing. Not sure if you are doing requests, but ANYTHING Logan Howlett x Plus Size reader would be awesome 💗🤩

fem!plus size reader, wc: 582.

a/n: THIS IS SICKENINGLY SWEET OH MY GOODNESS. maybe this may seem out of character to some people, but in my opinion, I think logan is a big ol' softie.

cw! mentions of knarly injuries and stitches + mentions of a needle.

Okay yes, Logan might be brooding, and emo and mysterious but God forbid that you actually get hurt, because this man would lose his shit (in less than dignified words).

Let’s say metaphorically you go out on a mission and when you come back, you’re a little worse for wear. You already know by the time you make it to the clinical room Logan would have raised hell on his path there. 

You have a few seconds of silence as you sit down on the medical table before you cringe at the sound of Logan’s voice booming down the hall. Jean gives you a look and all you can do is sigh exasperatedly.

You love him, you really do, but your head hurts and so does your side, which has been gracefully exposed to the open air, a less than preferable gash ripped through your skin. You’re trying really hard not to look at it - or even think about it - rather focusing on the Wolverine who’s now glaring at you.

“The hell happened?” 

“Wow Logan, I can really feel the love.” 

He gives you a look that makes the next bite of sarcasm die in the back of your throat. Instead, you replace it with another fruitless sigh.

“Big nasty metal thing,” You say with a wave of your hand, “‘Was just throwing shit at people and I got hit with a nice piece of shrapnel, but I’m good.”

“Good? You call being cut up like that good?”

“I really don't want to fight right now, Wolvie.” You pinch the space between your eyes. He softens ever so slightly at the intimate nickname and it doesn't take a mutation to know that the extra presence of your peers wasn't needed.

“Just let me stitch you up and I'll leave you guys to talk.” Jean says, already tweeding the thread through the needle. You wince, sparing a glance at the redhead before reaching Logan's eyes once more.

“This is going to fucking suck.” You grimace. 

Taking the hint, Logan walks and hops onto the bed as gently as he can so as to not jostle you. He doesn't speak when he takes your hand in his, squeezing it ever so slightly in a show of alliance. 

When Jean gets started you force yourself not to look, turning your head to bury it in Logan’s burly shoulder, breathing in his cigar scent stained flannel. It’s comforting to say the least, and it’s the only thing keeping you from passing out. The worst part was the numbing needle really.

“Alright, I’m done.” She says, slipping the medical gloves off and throwing them away. 

When you make eye contact with her, she gives you a knowing look. “I’ll leave you to it.”

The room is silent for a moment before he speaks. “What were you thinking?” It’s a petulant grumble, and you smile fondly. “It wasn’t like I actively tried to get myself hurt, you know.” 

He sighs, and pulls away from you so he can cradle your cheek. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me one day, you know that?” 

You laugh out loud, leaning forward to rest your forehead on his. “I guess you’re just going to have to keep up with me then, old man.” You tease. He smirks, “Old man? Really?”

“Mhm.” You nod with a grin. Logan places a sweet, long peck onto your lips.

“Maybe I’ll just handcuff you to the bed.”

You snort, “I’d like to see you try.”

[stevie-petey]

episode six: the spy

Steve looks like a kicked puppy as you storm ahead of him and Dustin, putting enough distance between you guys so that you can’t hear their conversion that follows.  “Shit…” “You’re awful with women.” Dustin says, now continuing to walk. He doesn’t bother to follow after you, knowing that you need your space to cool down. “I wouldn’t follow her, by the way. Let her cool off.” Steve sighs, now walking as well, “Yeah, I know.” 

Summary: dustin and steve haggle a butcher, you throw some meat at steve and then have a weird conversation about love, you stop dustin from becoming an incel, and then you wrestle some demodogs like any real woman would. side note: steve is hot protecting the kids.

Rating: general, violence and swearing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, violence and swearing, blood mention and ptsd mention, weapons, fire, probably more

Words: 17.1k (i fear how much longer these next few chapters become)

Before you swing in: its here !!! god, this chapter was ROUGH. the conversations between bug and steve took many rewrites and editing. i wanted to get it just right, and finally i think im satisfied with where they landed. bug and steve aside, i absolutely loved writing this chapter with the kids. i sincerely hope you guys enjoy, this chapter took blood, sweat, n tears lmao

-

You’re the first to break the silence as you all stare at the hole Dart created in the wall in shock.

An obnoxiously loud yawn escapes your lips, and Dustin and Steve shoot you simultaneous weird glances. You feel your face heat up in embarrassment. “Sorry… It’s been a long day.”

Steve huffs. “Yeah, no kidding.”

Dustin clears his throat before standing up. He wipes off some dirt that got on his jeans and then offers you his hand so that he can pull you up as well. You accept it and stand, your bones a deep, weary type of heavy that only comes from pure exhaustion. 

“Okay,” Dustin begins, and you can already see a plan forming in his mind. “Steve, you’ll spend the night here so that way we can all get up bright and early to start our search for Dart.” 

Steve attempts to argue, but Dustin puts his hand up to shush him and continues with his speech. The older boy throws his hands up in the air and gives you a look of disbelief over your brother’s antics. You stifle a laugh, which he only rolls his eyes at. Steve, whether he likes it or not, will have to get used to Dustin’s… Dustin-ness.

“If he escaped through the tunnel, then we have to assume that there’s an opening somewhere above ground.” Dustin finishes. 

You nod your head slowly, still unconvinced. “Okay, but how do we find him? Better yet, what happens when we do? It took Nancy with a shotgun, my knives, Steve’s batting skills, a ton of fire, and almost dying a bunch of times to take down the Demogorgon.” 

Dustin lets out a tired sigh. “I’ll figure it all out, alright? For now, let’s just get some sleep. Maybe it’ll come to me in a dream or something.” 

“A dream? Seriously?” Steve looks at the two of you as if you guys will start laughing and tell him it’s all a giant joke. Unfortunately, it isn’t. 

Steve spent all last year and most of the summer getting to know you. He’s used to your quips and soft spoken teasing, but Dustin? He’s uncharted territory and you’re secretly relishing in seeing Steve fumble around him. You’ve never had anyone else interact with your brother before, only Jonathan, so this change is odd, but welcomed. 

Dustin pays no attention to you and Steve as he begins heading up the steps, back to your home. Once he disappears, you nudge your shoulder against Steve’s. “You know you don’t actually have to spend the night, right?”

“Ya know, I can’t quite tell if the kid will let me leave or not.”

You laugh. “He’s harmless… Mostly. I promise I won’t let him bite, but I also understand if you want to leave.”

Steve looks away, sensing the undertones of what you’re saying. You’re giving him another out, one last chance to leave and go back to pretending like everything's okay. You wouldn’t blame him, and you get a sense of deja-vu from that night at Jonathan’s. When you tried coaxing Steve to leave, to spare himself from everything he inevitably ended up suffering from. 

After a minute or so, Steve shakes his head. “I’ll stay. You need my help.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say need–”

“Shut up and let me help you, Y/N.”

You sigh. There’s no arguing with him, he’s made up his mind and your truce that you shook on ten minutes ago burns your hand. He’s staying. 

“A ‘please’ would’ve sufficed, but fine.” You link your arm around Steve’s and make your way up the cellar steps. “C’mon, Dustin is probably waiting for us with some new insane plan for where you’ll sleep.”

– 

You know that your mom is safe, off at the other side of town, searching for your dead cat, but it’s still lonely walking into your empty home. Dustin is standing in the living room waiting, but you can see that it makes him uneasy as well. 

Steve follows behind you and takes a look around. When he spots the lumpy, old, sagging couch in front of the window, he frowns. It’s barely bigger than he is, his feet would definitely hang over the edge. “This my bed for tonight?”

“It’ll have to be, unless you want to come snuggle with me in my bed.” Dustin says. 

“I wouldn’t, he kicks in his sleep,” you tell Steve, attempting to make light of the situation. 

“That doesn’t surprise me,” he snorts. Then, as if he’s done this a million times before, Steve flings himself onto your couch and his feet do indeed hang over the edge. “Oh, yeah. This will definitely be cozy.”

You wince. “I’m sorry, you’re still free to go home. I completely understand and–”

“Unless…” Dustin begins to brighten up and he wiggles his eyebrows at you. Pure horror washes over you; you know that look on his face. He’s scheming. 

“Dustin, whatever is about to come out of your mouth–”

“Y/N has this giant bean bag in her room. Practically takes up the whole space, and, luckily for you, my new friend, it’s Steve-sized.”

Steve whips his head to face you, a curious look on his face. “You don’t say, Little Henderson?”

Both boys look at you, a matching glint of evil in their eyes, and you realize you’re trapped. When did they manage to sync up to make you miserable?

You weigh your options against your morals. On one hand, it’s your room and you and Steve are still warming back up to each other. However, on the other hand, Jonathan has spent countless nights on that bean bag himself. 

Dustin’s right. Steve would fit perfectly. 

Damn him. 

You shuffle your feet, averting Steve’s eyes. “I mean, I guess you’d fit.” 

“You guess? Steve, she’s had Jonathan sleep on that thing like a bajillion times.” Dustin waves his arms out, gleeful that he’s won. “In fact, I think our mom specifically bought it just for him.”

He now steps closer to Steve and eyes him up and down. “I’d bet money that you two are about the same size, so as I stated earlier: it’s Steve-sized.”

“I’m actually taller than him, so…” Steve mumbles to no one in particular, but quickly clears his throat and changes the subject. “And I’d finally be able to see Y/N Henderson’s room? Count me in.”

You blush furiously. He’s getting a kick out of all of this and he’s such a little shit, honestly. You’re not sure why the thought of having Steve Harrington in your room, eager to be in your room, makes your stomach flutter and your cheeks burn painfully. 

Steve sees your blush and he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “C’mon, Y/N. It’ll be like a sleepover.”

“You’re far too pleased about all of this.”

“We can pretend to be back at Bookstrordinary. I’ll even stack some books that you definitely have in your room.”

Dustin stands between you and Steve, his face alight with joy and curiosity. “Can I please know when you two became best friends?”

“No, you hid Dart from me.”

“I’m not gonna live that down, am I?”

“Nope.”

Steve clears his throat, clearly amused by your banter with Dustin but still unsure about everything going on. “So… What do ya say, Y/N?”

You bite your lip and look at him. He’s pathetically too large for the couch, it wouldn’t be fair to just force him to sleep there because of the weird way he makes you feel as if you’re floating yet falling all at the same time. 

Exhaling, you give in. “Fine, but do not touch any of my books in the room.”

“Yes!” Steve high fives Dustin and you roll your eyes at them both. 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. It’s late, can we please just go to bed now?”

Dustin sends you a wink, which thankfully Steve doesn’t see. “Sure, sis. Have a good night.”

And with that, probably because he senses you’re about to throw a shoe at him, Dustin flees the living room and runs to his room. As soon as he’s gone, Steve bats his eyelashes at you and playfully teases, “Take me to bed, Y/N.”

You snort, despite how exhausted you are. “Never say those words to me again.”

He laughs and stands up, following behind you as you guide him towards your own room. A part of you feels like you should give him a house tour, but logistically it’d be useless. You can’t imagine that Steve would be over at your house again once the Dart situation is handled. 

You have to remind yourself that there are still roses for Nancy, currently wilting, in the backseat of Steve’s car. 

They’ll work things out eventually, or maybe they won’t, but Nancy Wheeler still has Steve Harrington’s heart. He is hers entirely. 

Lost in thought, you almost miss the turn to your room and have to grab the back of Steve’s jacket and yank him towards your bedroom door. 

“Hey–” 

“Sorry, my room is here.” 

“You Hendersons are just a delightful bunch, ya know that?” 

“Be thankful you don’t have to meet our mother, honestly.” You fling your bedroom door open and gently push Steve inside. 

As soon as he’s in your room, you watch as he takes it all in. His eyes scan every corner of the room, and you hold your breath as you wait for them to land on the Spider-Man poster he gave you for Christmas last year. 

When Steve sees it, he smiles shyly at you. “I see you kept the gift.”

“Duh,” you walk over to your bed and sit down. “Still one of the best gifts I’ve ever been given.”

“One of?” He asks, tone light but curious. 

Unconsciously, your fingers go to your bee necklace from Jonathan. You play with the pendant and smile softly. “Sorry, Jonathan kinda beat you to it.”

“I figured,” he shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, uncomfortable. “I noticed the necklace the day I gave you the poster. Didn’t want to, uh, assume. I guess. But the necklace was from him?”

“It was,” you clear your throat, talking about Jonathan with Steve has always been such a foreign feeling for you. 

Steve seems to be thinking the same thing and starts to wander around your room instead. You silently thank whatever god is up there for giving you the motivation to clean your room earlier that week. Normally you’re a neat person, but ever since Will started showing signs of post-traumatic stress, you’ve spent more time obsessively researching rather than tidying up.

Therefore, there’s still books strewn across your desk alongside some comics. Steve sees a Spidey one and holds it up with a laugh. “He’s everywhere.”

“He is.” You say proudly, now getting up to go into your closet to pull out the blankets and pillows usually reserved for Jonathan.

Steve wanders around some more as you dig through your closet. He lingers in front of your dresser, which holds photos of you, Dustin, and Jonathan. 

“Here,” you hand the bedding to Steve and motion to where the bean bag is. 

He looks up from a photo of you and Jonathan from last year. It’s your favorite of the two of you, he stands behind you in the picture with his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin on your shoulder. You’re both smiling widely at the camera, the moment captured by Will because he wanted to try out the camera Jonathan had gotten that summer. 

“You guys are really close, huh?” Steve asks.

You nod, although confused by his question. He spent half the summer with you and Jonathan at your job. You had conversations about your friendship together, but you suppose it’s different seeing the excess of love you have for the boy within your room. Jonathan is everywhere, if you look hard enough, you’ll find him. 

Steve pauses for a second, as if he wants to say something else, but shakes his head and turns towards the bean bag. He arranges the pillows so that they’re flush against the wall facing your bed, which you think is an odd choice, but say nothing. Once he’s arranged the pillows and blankets, Steve turns to you and clears his throat. 

“I hate to ask this, I really do, but I also don’t want to sleep in these jeans,” he waves his hands over his pants, which have always been a bit tighter than you thought was necessary. “Any chance I could wear something of Jonathan’s?”

You think for a moment and dig through your dresser. “I’m not sure, but if I can’t find anything of his then I think my old camp t-shirt can fit. As for pants, won’t your boxers work fine?”

Steve’s face turns red and he clears his throat once more, speaking in a slightly squeaky voice, “Y–yeah, I guess so.”

He’s stumbling over his words, which makes you pause. There’s no possible way that he’s nervous right now. He’s usually so confident and comfortable around you. Hell, last summer he offered to be your first kiss (by kissing his fingers and pressing them against your lips, but still). 

“Are you shy right now, Steve?”

“What? No!” He scrambles to the other side of the room, putting as much distance between the two of you as he can. 

You raise your eyebrows at him, but your cheeks are flushed as well. “Okay then, whatever you say.” 

It’s painfully quiet after that as you continue looking for something for Steve to wear. You swear that Jonathan has left behind some of his things, and right before you lose hope, you spot a pair of gray sweats and an old The Clash t-shirt of his. 

“Here,” you toss the clothes to Steve without even checking if he’s looking. You hear a crash and know that he, in fact, had not been looking. 

“Gee, thanks.” He says sarcastically, but you giggle. 

“No problem,” you begin to gather your own pajamas before pointing towards your door. “There’s a bathroom to the left, down the hall. You can change there.” 

“Then our sleepover can commence?”

You wave him off, but you smile anyway at his question. You missed his boyish charms. “Sure, buddy. Go change.”

Steve salutes you and then leaves the room, softly closing the door behind him. You change while he’s gone and tie your hair up. After a few minutes, you assume Steve has had enough time to change and make your way over to the bathroom so you can brush your teeth. You’re so excited to go to bed. 

However, the door is closed when you approach, meaning Steve is still changing. You knock on the door, “Are you almost done in there?”

“I’m having… problems.” 

Your hand hovers over the door, mid knock. “Problems?”

There’s only silence for a moment, almost as if Steve is contemplating elaborating. Finally, after several seconds, he says “I’m definitely taller than Byers.” 

You roll your eyes and begin knocking again, just to annoy Steve, until he finally swings the door open. Before you can even stop it, a loud laugh escapes you. The sweats are at least five inches too short on him, while Jonathan’s shirt is a size too small. He looks absolutely ridiculous. 

“It’s not funny!” Steve whines, his face once again red. “I thought you gave me Jonathan’s clothes, Y/N!” 

More laughter escapes you, making your ribs begin to hurt. Every time you try to speak, you laugh even harder, and it’s impossible for you to get any words out. Steve watches, not amused in the slightest, and crosses his arms as if to appear more dignified. 

“I’m sorry,” you manage to gasp out, more laughs threatening to spill from you. “I guess they’re clothes from when he was fourteen.”

“I’m reconsidering our truce from earlier.” 

This gets you to stop laughing, and you gasp and smack Steve’s chest. “You wouldn’t dare!”

He sighs, hanging his head low. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“Exactly,” his admission makes you giddy. “Now, either make yourself cozy in the bean bag or watch as I brush my teeth. Your choice.”

Steve shrugs and steps to the side so that there’s room for you to enter the bathroom. It’s a tight fit, but he ends up sitting on the edge of the tub and just watches as you begin the process of brushing your teeth. “I didn’t actually think you’d stay, ya know.”

“I know, but I’m bored and you’re here.”

You spit into the sink. “Fair, I guess.”

“Plus,” he picks at his nails, trying to look disinterested while wearing Jonathan’s too small clothes. “We still need to have that talk.”

You pause, toothbrush hanging from your lips as you stare at Steve, wide eyed, in the mirror. Honestly, you were hoping he would’ve forgotten about that. It’s not that you don’t want to know whatever he has to tell you, but you’re tired and still reeling over the fact that he’s spending the entire night in your room. 

“Oh, right.” Turning the faucet off, you finish brushing your teeth and awkwardly wipe your face. Steve watches quietly, and once you’re done, you motion for him to follow you back towards your room. 

As soon as you’re back in your room, Steve immediately curls himself upon the bean bag and brings the blanket all the way up to his chin. Dustin, as always, is right: the bean bag truly is Steve-sized. “Cozy.”

You laugh at him as you crawl into your own bed. “Yeah, I’d hope so. Jonathan has slept in it for years now.”

“Well, uh. Speaking of Jonathan…” Steve sits up a bit so that he can properly look at you. “I wanted to talk. Ya know… About you and him. Nancy, too.”

He pauses, furrows his brows, and then adds. “Actually, I want to talk about what really happened this summer. Everything. I want to know everything.”

“Everything is a lot,” you dodge, turning away from the boy. 

Steve sighs. “Y/N… I missed you.”

Missed.

“I want to be friends again, be how we were before, but… I don’t know. There was a lot unsaid between us. Even from the start. I mean, I understand. I do.” His eyes never leave yours, despite how much you try not to look back at him. “You’re, well–If we’re going to be friends again, I want to start from the beginning.”

“The beginning?”

Now Steve is the one who looks away. “I don’t know, it’s stupid, I guess–”

“It’s not stupid, Steve.” You reassure him. He’s trying, he’s inviting you in after everything you did to him, and it’s all you could’ve asked for. 

But you’re fucking terrified. 

You and Steve became close before, sure, but it was something more surface level. An act between the two of you. While Steve was able to read you over time, learning and asking and paying attention to you, there was still so much you never let him in on. What you haven’t let anyone in on, besides Jonathan. 

If you start from the beginning with Steve, someone you know has come to view you as this selfless and kind person, you’re scared that it’ll change the way he sees you. 

But Steve is looking at you from the bean bag, looking ridiculously cozy with the blanket wrapped around him and his usually carefully curated hair has fallen in his eyes; his gaze is open and trusting. There isn’t a pressure behind it, he would understand if you backed down, but you promised him you’d try. 

To try is to be human.

And you really, really missed Steve. 

“I moved here when I was twelve. My family and I had moved all the way from Virginia after the divorce. I remember being really mean, back then. An angry kid with all this hurt within her that she perpetually displaced upon everyone else.” 

“Angry?” Steve asks, his voice soft. 

You shift uncomfortably in bed, but you remind yourself that you agreed to this. If you’re going to begin again with Steve, then he deserves to know the true person he’s befriending. “Angry. I didn’t take the divorce well. At all. I acted out a lot, closed myself off, and was just a fucking awful person.”

Shifting again, you take a deep breath. “My anger got to the point where Dustin, who was nine, had to practically plead with me to be nicer to him. He was a kid.”

“So were you,” Steve gently chimes in, but you roll your eyes at him. 

“Being a kid didn’t give me an excuse to abandon my loved ones like I did. Like my father did. It wasn’t until Dustin called me out on my bullshit that I realized the irony of the situation. There I was, blaming everyone else for my own problems and running away, because I was so hurt by my father doing the same to me.”

Steve clenches his jaw, and you know he wants to say more, but you watch as he exhales deeply and decides against it. “Okay, so you were mean and then you became kind again after something traumatic… So what?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I mean,” the boy sighs. “I was a dick for like, ten consecutive years. It took losing a fight to Jonathan, embarrassing myself in front of Nancy at least five times, losing my bullshit ‘friends’ Tommy and Carol, and some blonde guy with a fucking mullet before I was even able to become a decent person.” 

You frown. “What’s your point?” 

“My point is that you came back.” Steve shrugs. “The second someone you loved asked you to, you came back to being the selfless angel that you are. Which, by the way, is an impressive feat in itself.” 

He says this as if it’s obvious and that the months you spent hurting everyone around you can be redeemed. As if you haven’t spent every waking hour tirelessly devoting every piece of yourself to those around you to make up for them. To repent for your anger. 

Steve takes your silence as more defiance, and he runs a tired hand through his hair. He’s merely a few feet from you, at the foot of your bed on the bean bag, and yet it feels as if he’s inches yet yards away. “I know I can’t change your mind, but… I think that’s what matters the most in the end, ya know? You became kind.” 

“So did you,” you finally say, not quite ready to accept what he’s saying. 

Now it’s Steve who looks away. “Still working on the whole ‘kind’ thing.”

“Isn’t that what matters in the end?” You tease, feeling yourself warm with pride when you get him to laugh. 

“Touché.” 

Silence falls over the two of you, letting the tension lazily slip away for now. Your body hums with energy; the only other person you’ve told about your father to is Jonathan. You both have long since bonded over shitty father figures. However, even when you had whispered these truths to Jonathan back when you were thirteen, you don’t remember feeling quite so raw and vulnerable as you do right now with Steve. 

“I meant it, you know,” you catch Steve’s eye. “Back when you first drove me home last year. You’re alright. Not too shabby, honestly.”

This time a full body laugh cascades through the boy, He clutches at his stomach as he doubles over, breathless with joy. “Thanks, Y/N.” 

Steve is still laughing and this is the happiest you think you’ve seen him in months. The realization makes all the warmth you’ve felt earlier, vanish. You remember the hurt on his face earlier this week on Halloween, the tears in his eyes when he confessed that Nancy didn’t love him. 

You know how plagued Steve is about never being good enough, and for the first time since you’ve truly gotten to know him: you understand him in that very moment. 

Your eye catches on Steve’s adam’s apple as he swallows. It’s a tragedy, really, how attractive he is. You suppose it’s what caused his downfall, in the end. A pretty boy, rich and popular yet easily able to be taken down; it must be a lonely life with all that vulnerability.

“Can I tell you a secret?” You whisper, voice cutting through the darkness of your room as Steve seems to remember where he is, why and how the conversation started in the first place. 

“Always,”

“I’m scared of the compulsive need I feel to take care of everyone. It’s like… I don’t know, this debt that I feel I owe for existing, for the fear I feel because of my father leaving. I overcompensate for this fear now, terrified I’ll become mean again.”

Steve stares at your ceiling. “The whole ‘debt’ thing, I understand. Believe me. Rather than being a perfect angel, however, I just try my fucking hardest not to disappoint everyone around me and make them leave.”

Nancy, as she always seems to do, lingers between you and Steve now; you both can feel her presence without him having to say her name. He told you what she did to him, you tried to reassure him that it hadn’t been his fault, but Steve isn’t an idiot. 

Nancy never loved him. He knows this, now. 

You don’t say anything, you don’t think he’d want you to. Giving him some time, you allow Steve a few minutes to collect his thoughts, sensing he has more to say. Then, softly, he whispers back to you, “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Always,” you echo. 

“I just want to be loved.” 

With just one confession, a string of six words in succession, Steve Harrington crushes you. 

The words come crashing upon your chest and you wish you could tell him how easily you see yourself falling for him. How, even if you can’t admit it just yet, you’re already falling for him. You think you have been for some time now. 

Somewhere, in between him driving you home last year and the way the summer sun kissed his face months later, you began to fall in love with him. 

While you’re thinking this, Steve is laying in the bean bag, absolutely terrified of the words that have come out of his mouth. He’s always had the fear, deep down, that he was unlovable, but to admit the fear out loud… He’s never felt so weak before.

You’re silent and Steve thinks he’s finally done it. His pathetic need to be liked and loved by everyone around him has finally scared you away. How couldn’t it scare you away? You so naturally are loved by everyone while Steve compulsively demands it because he’s still that scared ten year old boy with a father who never showed him love. 

Then, because you’re an angel, you give Steve the response he hadn’t even known he needed to hear. “It’s natural to want to be loved. We all do. It’s human.”

He exhales at your words, still staring at the ceiling as if to somehow lessen the impact of what you’re telling him. There’s something there, hanging in the air after your words have disappeared, that Steve can’t quite understand. 

It almost sounded like you were trying to reassure yourself, as well.

“What’s the deal with you and Jonathan?” Though Steve’s voice is steady, you can tell that he’s trying not to sound too interested. 

The question is a simple one, but it’s the hardest question you’ve ever had to answer. Everyone asks you, sooner or later, if you and Jonathan are together. You never blame them for asking, because ultimately the two of you are  closer than the average friends, regardless of gender. 

It doesn’t make the question any less painful to answer, though. It doesn’t make hearing Jonathan’s laugh cut any less deeper.

As for Steve, he’s asked this question before, albeit with teasing and disbelief whenever you’ve told him there’s nothing there. Despite the numerous times you’ve corrected him, he’s never quite believed you.

This time, it feels different. There’s a weight behind Steve’s question, and your silence is all the answer that he needs. “You love him.”

The words aren’t a question, and they harbor no malice. He says them as if they are a fact; you suppose that it is. You don’t say anything, but you do nod your head at him. “I do… I think I’ve always loved him, honestly.”

You’ve never, ever said those words out loud. Not to anyone.

And now, you’re confessing them to Steve, who doesn’t have to ask you why your voice now holds melancholy within it. He knows, he’s always somehow known. Jonathan doesn’t love you, a fact in which Steve has never been able to wrap his head around. He’s watched the two of you for years, how easily you love one another, and yet somehow the love never blossomed into something more. 

Everything stills between you and Steve, allowing both your confessions to surround the two of you. “I’m sorry.”

Steve’s apology only causes you to shrug. “He’s still mine, at least for now. Is that so bad?”

“I mean, I guess not, but… Doesn’t it get exhausting?”

“God,” you squeeze your eyes shut, finally able to voice all you’ve been feeling to someone who can understand. “It feels like this crushing weight upon me every time I see him smile, like it’s a burden, carrying all this love within me without being able to express it freely. I just… I never thought that love could be so exhausting. ”

As the words start to come out, you find that you’re unable to stop. “I grew up with Jonathan, I learned the way he breathes and the way his hands feel pressed against my skin, but so much has changed and…” Your breath hitches. “He’s not someone I reach out to first anymore. It almost feels like I can’t. I love him, I do, but I also miss how it used to be before I realized everything.”

The pressure of tears builds behind your eyes and forces you to stop talking. If you say anything else, you’re afraid you’ll start crying. While Steve has been so lovely tonight, it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to console you so pathetically. 

Steve seems to hear the tears lacing your voice and speaks for you, having finally pieced together everything he’s been unable to articulate since November of last year. “With Nance, it feels like I’m always somehow two steps behind her and her feelings. Constantly playing catch up while the rules keep changing on me… I get the whole ‘love is exhausting’ thing.”

Though you know Steve means well, his words fucking terrify you. If he feels the same way towards Nancy, a girl who never ended up loving him despite how much he poured his heart out for her, what does that mean for you and Jonathan?

For the first time, you question if the exhaustion you feel surrounding your love for the boy is really something else. Something different, disguised as exhaustion. 

You wonder, deep down, if you’ve started to fall out of love with Jonathan.

Who are you if you have?

The boy has become so intertwined within your life, the threads and strings and lines have tied you to him indefinitely. He’s the reason behind your everything. If you no longer love Jonathan, then who are you, really?

The realization washes over you like cold rain in the middle of winter. It spills over you and pricks at your skin and you suddenly want the conversation to end. While you’re so relieved to be talking to Steve again, the conversation has left you with more realizations than resolutions. 

“It’s late,” you fake a yawn, desperate to cut the conversation short. “We should go to bed. Knowing Dustin, he’ll have us up at the crack of dawn to start looking for Dart.”

Steve sees right through you, he knows he’s somehow crossed a line and that you’re once again retreating. You’re closing yourself off from him again, but he’ll take whatever he can get from you. You’ve told him more than he ever thought you would, so for now he’ll play along. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He says, watching as you reach for your lamp and turn the light off. Then, as soon as you’ve rolled over and closed your eyes, you faintly hear his final words. “Don’t we make a pathetic pair?” 

You remember, before drifting off to sleep, feeling relief wash over you that Steve once again considers the two of you a pair.

– 

You wake up the next morning to the faint sounds of Dustin getting ready. His shower can be heard from your room, and through the years it's become your morning alarm. Yawning, you roll over and rub your eyes and take a few minutes to let your brain wake up. 

Bits of yesterday’s events come back to you. 

Dustin confessing about Dart. 

Locking the Demodog in your cellar. 

Radioing everyone in the party for help and getting no response. 

Going to the Wheelers for Mike and coming back with Steve. 

Dart going missing. 

And, most importantly, your bizarre conversation with Steve last night. 

The boy in question lets out a loud snore from the bean bag, blankets haphazardly twisted around his legs, and you stifle a laugh. Even in his sleep, Steve Harrington somehow catches all the attention in the room.  

You throw your blanket off and get out of bed, tiptoeing so as to not wake up the sleeping beauty, and head outside to your kitchen. If yesterday was any indication of how long today will be, then you need all the coffee in the world to get through it. 

The coffee has just finished brewing when you hear Steve stumble into the kitchen. His eyes are bleary and his hair is the worst it’s ever looked. “I guess even Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington can’t escape bed head, huh?”

Steve acknowledges your quip only by grunting, still stumbling around through your home. So he isn’t a morning person, you think with a smile while bringing your coffee mug to your lips and taking a careful sip. 

Eventually Steve makes it to your kitchen table and plops down, letting out a loud yawn and smacking his lips. He looks pathetically endearing, really, especially given his outfit that looks even worse after sleeping in it. The shirt has ridden further up, exposing a bit of his stomach (which you divert your gaze from, feeling yourself blush), and one of his too-short pant legs has ridden up to his knee. 

“You really are a natural beauty in the morning, Steve.” 

“Ha,” he says boredly, looking around the kitchen. “Do you guys have any food? I’m starving.” 

You toss him an apple from the fruit basket on the counter, and Steve only just manages to catch it in time to avoid it hitting his face.

“Christ!” He exclaims, glaring at you when you chuckle at his reaction. Maybe it was a little mean, but you see the small smile he tries to hide. 

“Is this all I get? An apple thrown at my face?”

You walk over to the table and set your mug down. “Were you expecting a home cooked meal?” 

“You’ll have to earn a Y/N Henderson breakfast,” Dustin says as he enters the kitchen and joins the two of you. His hair is still wet from his shower and he drips onto the counter, which makes you cringe. He’s such a boy, sometimes. 

He makes his way over to the fridge and rustles around, looking for something to eat. Truthfully, the reason you threw the apple at Steve is because there’s no food in your house at the moment. Your mom normally goes to the grocery store on Saturdays, and in her frantic rush to find Mews she hadn't left any money for you to go to the store. 

“There’s no food,” you inform your brother. 

He sighs dejectedly, grabbing a banana and then plopping himself next to Steve at the table. “All right, are you two awake enough to discuss the plan?” 

You nod immediately at Dustin’s question while Steve slumps further into his seat, groaning. You run a hand through his hair to try and settle down his theatrics. Dustin sees this and raises an eyebrow at you, but you shake your head and motion for him to keep quiet. 

“So,” he takes a bite from his banana and begins speaking with his mouth full, which you make a face at. “I was thinking we lure Dart with bait to a secure area that we can catch him in.” 

“Wait,” Steve sits up a bit in his seat, careful to not knock your hand off his head. “That’s all you got? That’s the entire plan?”

“Yes. Is there a problem?” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” he begins eating as well, his mouth also full and disgusting to look at, “Do you know how we’ll lure him? Or where? Better yet, how will we even catch him?” 

Dustin narrows his eyes. “Okay, so it’s a working idea. You got anything better?”

Steve opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He pauses for a second before seemingly drawing a blank and closing his mouth; he sinks back into his seat in defeat.

“That’s what I thought.” Dustin says smugly.

You take another sip of coffee, enjoying the mug’s warmth around your fingers. “Well, we at least know what Dart likes to eat.”

“We do?” Steve questions, looking up at you.

“Oh, just wait until you hear this,” you motion over to Dustin. “Go on, tell Steve what you’ve been feeding Dart.”

Now it’s your brother’s turn to sink into his seat, embarrassed. He mumbles something that Steve can’t quite hear.

“What?”

He mumbles again, only a tiny bit louder this time.

“Little Henderson, I can’t understand you.” Steve says, smirking when he feels you laugh against him. 

“I said he eats Musketeers Bars!” Dustin shouts, now incredibly defensive. 

In sync, you and Steve share a look. While you have an exasperated fondness on your face, Steve looks like he’s questioning every choice he’s made in his life. It’s cute that he thinks this is the weirdest things will get.

“Okay…” Steve looks over at your brother. “Unless you plan on buying out an entire candy store, we need something else for bait.”

In the corner of your eye you see Mews’ cat bed laying against the window, and an idea pops into your head. “Dustin, did Dart only eat the candy bars before he killed our cat?”

“Yeah, why?” 

As you walk over to the kitchen sink to place your mug in it, you begin explaining. “Then clearly he’s outgrown his sugar needs and would probably eat just about anything with flesh on it.”

Steve wrinkles his face with displeasure, not enjoying the thought of going after this monster that craves meat. He’s already done that, and call him crazy, but he really doesn’t want to experience anything like that ever again. 

Dustin’s eyes light up, following along with what you’re saying. “Raw meat! You’re a genius, Y/N!” 

“And then we can follow the train tracks to that old junkyard, the one that El brought you guys to last year. It’s a straight shot, Dart won’t get lost, and then we catch him.”

Dustin squeals. “That’s perfect!”

He stands up to hug you, which you gladly accept. “Yeah, yeah. We Hendersons are known for our genius,” you gently push your brother away and start exiting the kitchen. “I’m going to go shower and get ready. Steve, you’ll take Dustin to the butcher and see if you can haggle some raw meat out of him.” 

“Uh… can I change first?” He asks, running a hand through his hair with displeasure. 

Only now does Dustin notice Steve’s appearance and he lets out a loud cackle. “Oh, I think you look great!”

You shoot your brother a warning look, not wanting to upset Steve too much. He’s the only one with a car, and the party still hasn’t responded to Dustin’s calls, so he’s all you have right now. Plus, after last night’s conversation, you’re sure he’s feeling just as wound up and tense as you are. 

“We can swing by your place on our way to the train tracks. Your house is right next to it, anyways, and Dustin and I can scout the parameters while you shower and get yourself all pretty. For now, just go to the butcher's shop, please.” 

“But–” 

“Please, Steve?” You pout, daring him to argue with you again. Steve is only able to stand his ground for about five seconds before he groans and nods his head.

“Fine–” You quickly hug him before running towards the bathroom to get ready. 

Once you’re gone, Steve searches for his keys while Dustin stands in the kitchen, shocked. “I so need to know when you two became such good pals.”

“Go wait by the car, Little Henderson.” Steve waves him off, though he’s secretly pleased with how the morning is turning out so far.

–

“C’mon, man. It’s just chunks of raw meat, it doesn’t even matter what, uh, body parts they are, I guess.” Steve argues with the butcher, having no idea why you’ve sent him on this journey with Dustin. Neither of them have any idea about butchers and meat, so they’ve been arguing back and forth for a solid ten minutes with the guy. 

“And I already told you, it’ll be $15. Take it or leave it, pretty boy.” Pat, the butcher, says. 

Steve scowls at the name, “That’s insane for five pounds, you realize that? It’s just a bunch of meat chunks from god knows where, it’s not like we want prime rib you dirty sack of–” 

Dustin cuts him off, snatching the boy’s wallet from his back pocket and pulling out a twenty. “Ignore him, please! Here, thank you so much for your lovely service, good sir.”

Pat narrows his eyes at the boy, and for a split second Dustin is afraid that he’s trying to figure out the best way to skin them alive, before he simply grunts and takes the money. 

Relief washes over Dustin and he scrambles to grab the bags of meat, tugging at Steve’s sleeve in urgence until he gives in and begins to help as well. Within a few seconds, they’ve gathered all they need and head towards the car. 

“Keep the change!” Dustin calls out behind him. 

As soon as they’re in the car, he yells at Steve to step on it. It’s already been twenty minutes since they left the house, and he knows from experience to never keep you waiting. 

“Okay, okay, god.” Steve complies, pushing down on the gas and speeding away from the butcher’s shop. 

The smell of raw meat immediately infiltrates the car, so Steve rolls down the windows and sighs. This is definitely not the weekend he had in mind. He thought he’d apologize to Nancy, kiss and hopefully make up, and maybe even swing by your place to tell you the good news. 

Instead, he has buckets of raw meat in his car and his head is swimming from his conversation with you from last night. While he’s happy it happened, there’s still so much Steve feels like you aren’t telling him. To top it all off, he hadn’t been able to sleep in his own bed, but rather a bean bag that Jonathan apparently has slept in a million times before. 

As Steve is moping, he realizes that there actually wasn’t even a real need to spend the night. 

“Hey, Little Henderson,” Steve gently hits Dustin’s shoulder to get his attention. “Why did I have to spend the night at your place?” 

“Oh, you didn’t.” Dustin says as if it’s no big deal.

Steve turns his head towards him, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d actually spend the night if we’re being honest. I just thought it’d be funny to mess with you.” 

“I tried arguing with you, but you shushed me!” Steve exclaims, putting both hands back on the steering wheel aggressively. 

The younger boy shrugs, “What are you, seventeen? Eighteen? Why would you listen to a thirteen year old?” 

“Well, I–” As much as he wants to, Steve really can’t defend himself on this one. Shit. It’s not like he can tell Dustin that he mostly stayed because his sister is pretty and makes him feel safe.

Dustin smiles, happy to have won the conversation at hand, and decides to really rub it in as they pull up to the house. “I also thought it’d be hilarious to pair you up with my sister. Hope you two made smart choices last night.”

And with those words, Dustin springs out the car, leaving a speechless Steve behind. He turns the car off and sits there for a moment, completely at a loss for words. He’s only spent a total of sixteen hours with the kid, and already he knows he’s in for a world more of trouble. 

If you’re Hawkins’ sweetheart, then Dustin is the town’s horribly terrifying weasel. 

Meanwhile, you’ve just finished lacing up your shoes when Dustin walks in.

“Where are the rubber gloves that mom likes?” He asks in lieu of greeting you. 

“In the closet, second shelf, next to her cat figurines. Where’s Steve?”

Dustin rustles around the closet and pulls out three sets of gloves, “In the car, moping.” 

There’s a crash and then he tosses two buckets onto the carpet. You crouch down and grab the buckets, placing them on the table. “Why is he moping?”

“Why is who moping?” The man in question walks in, throwing himself on the couch and narrowly dodging the third bucket that Dustin throws out. “Why do you guys keep throwing shit at me, Jesus!” 

“Language! There’s kids around,” You snap your fingers at Steve, who quickly cowers in shame. “And if it makes any difference, the bucket wasn’t intentional. The rest were, though.” 

Just as Dustin is finishing up in the closet, you spot a can of gasoline and an idea sparks in your head. If you learned anything at Jonathan’s house last year, it’s that these Demogorgon things really hate fire. “Hey, grab the gasoline as well.”

He does as he’s told, no questions asked, and then hands it to you. You add it to the pile on the table, along with two backpacks from your brother and your beloved switchblade. 

Steve gets up from the couch to investigate your stash, nodding approvingly. “Not bad, guys. What are we going to put in the backpacks, though?” 

Dustin goes into the kitchen and begins grabbing the few items within it. The remaining fruits in the basket, a few pieces of bread, a bag of chips, and some water bottles. “One bag will have our food, the other will have our weapons.” 

And with that, you guys are all set to head out. While Dustin is distracted with grabbing his backpack, you run towards Steve’s car and throw yourself into the passenger seat. Every man for himself. 

“What– Y/N!” He calls after you, but he’s too late. You’ve already buckled yourself up by the time he and Steve get into the car themselves. 

“She beat ya, buddy.” Steve teases, flashing you a proud smile. 

Dustin grumbles in the backseat, unamused, and for a moment you think he’ll leave it at that. However, because he’s Dustin, you see from the rearview mirror as his eyes spark with revenge. “So, Steve.”

The tone in his voice terrifies you. 

You place your head in your hands and sigh, mentally preparing for whatever your brother is about to say. 

“Yes, Dustin?”

“How long have you been friendly with my sister?”

“Dustin!” You whip your head around, lunging towards the back seat to swat at the boy, but he quickly scoots over to Steve’s side and avoids your hands. 

Steve, however, surprises you by simply shrugging and taking the question in stride. There’s no embarrassment on his face, no ounce of hesitation in his voice. “About a year now.”

“A year?” Dustin exclaims, having completely not expected such a response. “Y/N, how could you keep this from me?”

“She didn’t hide anything from you, buddy.” Steve defends you, eyes focused on the road. “I convinced her to be my friend after I saved her life–”

“You saved her life?”

“And then bought you boys snacks at the hospital afterwards. Then, because I really wanted to be her friend, I basically stalked her at work every day and annoyed my way into her life. We’ve been pretty close ever since.”

Dustin’s jaw is practically on the ground after Steve’s quick explanation, left speechless for the first time in his life. As for you, you’re admiring the way the early morning sun causes Steve to glow. You’ll never be over how often his beauty distracts you; you wonder how Nancy, or really anyone, could deny him love.

If you didn’t know Steve, if you passed by him on the street one day as complete strangers, you’re sure that a part of you would fall in love with him. 

Even with pieces of his hair standing all over the place, his shirt still being too small, he was a delicate kind of handsome that made you feel a certain warmth.

“Did I forget anything, Y/N?” Steve’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, and you quickly divert your eyes away from the way his arms look while holding the steering wheel. 

“No, uh.” You clear your throat, still recovering. Steve seems to be in good spirits for once, it’s a breath of fresh air seeing him so content, and yet it also serves as a stark reminder that you made the right choice when you first distanced yourself from him. He’s just too easy to love. “I think you pretty much covered everything. Unless Dustin has any questions?”

“Give me three to five business days to process this, please.” Your brother mumbles from the backseat, which you and Steve laugh at. 

The rest of the ride is relatively peaceful after that, and a few minutes later you arrive at Steve’s house. It’s different in the daylight, only ever having seen it late one night driving the boy home from the Halloween party. 

It’s a beautiful home, the smell of chlorine fills your nose. The pool, you remember Nancy mentioning his pool when she explained what happened to Barb. You shiver, now aware that you’re in the same place that your friend took her last breaths at, just a year ago. 

“The tracks are just over on the other side of the street, and I shouldn’t be too long, so you Hendersons can start figuring out the plan in the meantime.” Steve instructs you and Dustin, getting out of the car and entering his house. 

Dustin begins getting out as well, so you unbuckle your seatbelt and follow. Thankfully you decided to wear jeans today with a simple tank top and cardigan with your knit socks; though it was late October, it’s unusually sunny outside and the walk from Steve’s to the junkyard was easily four to five miles. 

The two of you walk over to the tracks and you survey the area. You’re not sure what exactly you’re looking for, but you figure it’s best to look focused in case Dustin yells at you. 

“We’ll need to go that way,” Dustin points in front of you, and you nod as you follow along. “We can drop the meat chunks every few sleepers so we don’t waste any of it.” 

“Sleepers?”

“These.” Dustin’s shoe scrapes against the bottom wooden planks. 

“You would know what they’re called.”

“Ha ha, any more quips or can I continue?”

You put your hands up in surrender and Dustin begins to speak again.

“Then once we get to the junkyard, we can dump whatever meat is left in a pile and put the gasoline on it. Once Dart is distracted and eating, we’ll light it on fire.” His words catch a bit at the end, and you suddenly feel bad for him. He clearly still cares about Dart, but you know your brother understands the risks of letting the Demodog live. 

Without saying anything, you reach over and pull Dustin in for a hug. He fights it at first, but after a couple seconds he gives in and hugs you back. You aren’t the most affectionate pair of siblings, but you love your younger brother fiercely. Not for the first time, you wish you could’ve done more to prevent him from discovering the Upside Down. 

You know it’s irrational to blame yourself and feel guilty, but maybe if you’d been more involved last year, then maybe he wouldn’t have so many nightmares. 

“I’m sorry about Dart,” you say softly against his hat. 

Dustin breaks away, shrugging his shoulders. “Gotta protect the party, right?”

“Right.” You flick his hat. “C’mon, let’s go back to the car and start putting the meat in the buckets.” 

True to his word, Steve is ready to go after about twenty minutes. He walks out of his house, freshly clean and put together, right as you and Dustin finish preparing the bait. He approaches from behind you, and you can smell his cologne. Memories from when he’d have his arms around you and you’d smell the familiar scent now wash over you. 

Clearing your throat, you turn to hand him gloves and a bucket, but almost drop it when you see him. 

He looks good. Like, frustratingly good. His hair is back in its usual style, but he’s wearing a dark blue polo and a gray jacket that fits him criminally well. You almost feel underdressed standing next to him with your ratty old cardigan, which you know is ridiculous to be concerned about. Plus, you’ve always known that Steve was attractive, so it’s stupid to be affected by it suddenly now. 

You guys had one emotional conversation. 

“Y/N?” 

Steve’s staring at you quizzically, and you quickly snap out of your thoughts and hand him the bucket full of bait and instruct him to put the gloves on. He listens, dutifully putting them on and placing the bucket on the ground and starts searching for one of the backpacks in the trunk. He’s seemingly in a much better mood now, which you’re thankful for. 

“Dustin! This is Lucas. Do you copy? Dustin?” 

Lucas’ voice rings out from Dustin’s walkie, and you perk your head up, relieved that he’s okay. The radio silence from the party was something that unnerved you immensely. With Dart on the loose, Will’s increasing episodes, who knows what else is happening in Hawkins at the moment? 

“Well, well, well, look who it is.” Dustin responds, placing his hands on his hips like a disappointed mother. You chuckle at him and continue helping Steve unload the trunk. 

You hear Lucas sigh into the walkie. “Sorry, man. My stupid sister turned it off.” 

“Tell Erica I say hi!” You call out, knowing Lucas will hear you. He always resented the fact that his sister is so nice to you. You’re the only living person who didn’t receive Erica’s insane insults, which is something you’re very proud of.

“Y/N?”

“Hi, Lucas!” 

Dustin shoos you away and continues to speak. “Well, when you were having sister problems, which really aren’t that hard to handle–” 

“Says you,” you butt in. 

“Dart grew again, he escaped, and I’m pretty sure he’s a baby Demogorgon.” Your brother finishes. By this point, you and Steve have pretty much unpacked everything in the car. 

“Wait, what?” You’d kill to see the look on Lucas’ face right now. 

“I’ll explain later, just meet me, Y/N, and Steve at the old junkyard.” As Dustin wraps up the conversation, Steve shoves his bat into the bag and you watch him with disappointment. He’s trying really hard to make it fit, and you almost pity the boy. Bless him. 

There’s a pause before Lucas asks, “Steve?”

Dustin doesn’t elaborate, instead instructing his friend to bring his binoculars and wrist rocket. You suppose it’s a good idea to add more weapons to your arsenal. Better safe than sorry.

“Steve Harrington?” Lucas asks again, this time even more confused. 

“He’s a friend,” you say, shoving your own weapons into the bag and slinging it over your shoulder. 

Steve closes the trunk and says, “Damn straight I am. Alright, let’s go.”

You follow after him, saying goodbye to Lucas as Dustin tells him to be at the junkyard stat. 

Dustin stashes his walkie in his own bag and then the three of you are off. Your brother and Steve walk a bit ahead of you as you all throw the meat chunks onto the ground, doing as Dustin instructed. It’s slow work, but you’re happy to have some time to yourself while the boys are distracted with each other. Their friendship wasn’t something you’d expect, but you’re incredibly happy about it.

You love the party, you’d do anything for them given all that you’ve been through together. However, as they grow older, you can’t help but notice how much they’re changing. Mike hasn’t been himself since El disappeared, Dustin is now hyper focused on science, Lucas is becoming his own person, and poor Will is just trying to recover from the trauma of last year. 

It’s been hard watching them grow apart, in a way. Nothing will ever be the same after the Upside Down, you know that, but watching the party slowly drift makes you sad for your brother. You’re glad he’s seemingly found someone like Steve to bounce jokes off of and feel appreciated by. You know that someday the kids will all come together again, it’d be impossible not to with how strong of a connection they all have, so you try not to worry too much.

You shove the thoughts down, you need to keep focused on Dart and contacting the rest of the party. So, you dutifully place the bait down and follow behind the boys and feel the time pass by. After about an hour of nonsensical conversation between Steve and Dustin, you hear the older boy finally ask the question of why your brother even hid Dart in the first place. 

“It’s complicated, okay?” Dustin defects, clearly uncomfortable with the change in conversation.

You keep your distance from them, but you keep an ear out just in case you need to intervene. 

“You claim you wanted to get famous off of it or whatever,” Steve drops meat onto the tracks and kicks his foot. “Call me crazy, but you don’t hide something that supposedly makes you famous.” 

He has a point, and Dustin scrunches his face up. He casts a glance your way and you do your best to appear distracted by the job at hand. You know Dustin’s guilty face well, so whatever he’s about to tell Steve will be good. When Dustin shuffles closer to Steve and lowers his voice, you get closer as well so you can listen.

You’re his older sister. It’s your damn job to be nosy.

“It was for this girl.” 

Simultaneously you and Steve react. He hums in approval, almost proud, while you scoff. “I knew it.”

Dustin turns around, horrified. “You knew?”

“Duh, you’re awful at hiding things from me. After Max was just conveniently outside the AV room when Dart originally escaped, I pieced it together immediately. Also, side note: you’re too young to be impressing girls. I told you to just be yourself, dummy.”

Steve lets out a snort. “Pretty ironic coming from you, Y/N.”

Suddenly you feel uncomfortable with his attention on you.

“I’m sorry?” Your voice is steady, but you can feel your hands shaking as you continue throwing the bait. 

“Ya know, your massive crush on Jonathan ever since you were twelve.” He laughs, as if it’s the funniest joke in the world. 

Dustin clears his throat aggressively, pointing to your hands. Steve sees the way that they shake, the tension you now carry in your shoulders, and he’s become familiar enough with you to know your anger cues. The teasing smile that had been on his face drops. He runs towards you so he’s now by your side, and Dustin sighs in disappointment. 

“I didn’t, like, mean anything by that, you know. I–uh, I was kidding, Y/N.” Steve tries to catch your gaze, but you pointedly stare straight ahead and clench your jaw. He’s stumbling over both his words and the tracks beneath his feet, trying desperately to appease you. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“You’re an asshole, Steve Harrington.” 

“Y/N, please, I said I was sorry–”

You finally face him, grabbing his elbow to ensure he doesn’t move. “I told you that stuff about Jonathan in confidence. You don’t get to throw it back in my face, joking or not.” 

It doesn’t help that you’re already confused enough as it is about the boy and your feelings towards him. To have Steve tease you about it, especially because he knows how painful jabs about Nancy are… It really fucking hurts. 

Steve looks like a kicked puppy as you storm ahead of him and Dustin, putting enough distance between you guys so that you can’t hear their conversion that follows. 

“Shit…”

“You’re awful with women.” Dustin says, now continuing to walk. He doesn’t bother to follow after you, knowing that you need your space to cool down. “I wouldn’t follow her, by the way. Let her cool off.”

Steve sighs, now walking as well, “Yeah, I know.” 

They walk in silence for a little while, Steve hanging his head in shame and Dustin leading the way, frustrated by being stuck with two overly emotional teens. 

After a while the silence eats at Steve, so he decides to continue the conversation from earlier. “So, this girl… is she someone you’ve known a while?” 

Dustin shakes his head, “No, she’s new at our school. She’s super cool, though.”

“I remember back when I based my attraction to girls on their coolness.” Steve mumbles. 

“And look where basing it off their hotness has gotten you.” 

“Ouch,” Steve rubs at his chest, wounded.

Dustin laughs and flings some bait at him. “I thought that if I showed her Dart, she’d think I was cool, too, and like me.”

Steve sidesteps the thrown bait and tries to comprehend what the younger boy is saying. “So, you kept something that you knew was probably dangerous in order to impress a girl who… you just met?”

“Alright, that’s grossly oversimplifying things. And anyways, who are you to give me girl advice? My sister is literally three hundred feet ahead of us because you pissed her off with one singular sentence.” Then, almost as if as an afterthought, Dustin adds, “congrats, by the way. I’ve never seen someone piss her off so quickly.” 

“Look, this isn’t about me, okay? Sure, I messed up with Y/N, but it isn’t like I was hitting on her to begin with,” Dustin makes a disgusted face as Steve quickly continues, panicked. “So she doesn’t count. I just feel like you’re trying way too hard, man.” 

“Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, alright?” Dustin grumbles. 

Steve shakes his head, slightly amused by the boy’s antics. He’s so much like you, and yet so different, and Steve is realizing it’ll take a lot to keep up with the kid. “It’s not about the hair, dude. Chicks dig more than just a good hairstyle.” 

“You’re literally known as Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.”

“Hey, ‘King Steve’ is also there.” 

Dustin flings even more bait at Steve, now annoyed with him. “Whatever man, it’s not like you’d be any help anyways.” 

“Oh really? Well, Little Henderson, I’m about to blow your mind: the key to girls is just acting like you don’t care.”

“Even if you do?”

“Yeah, exactly.” Steve now brightens up, happy to finally be getting through to the boy. For Steve, he’s long since learned that the best way to avoid getting hurt is to pretend that he doesn’t care. “It drives them nuts.”

“Then what?” 

“You just wait,” Steve looks ahead, watching you and feeling like a complete dick. He really hadn’t meant to hurt you, hell the two of you were finally starting to get somewhere and yet… Steve fucked it up. As always. 

He can see that your shoulders are still tensed up, you’re walking faster than you need to be. He feels a heavy weight in his stomach, one that he’s never felt before; he doesn’t like it. “You wait… until you feel it.”

Dustin furrows his brows. “Feel what?”

Steve tears his gaze away from you and turns back to Dustin, beginning to explain the electricity between someone you’re interested in. Being the geek that he is, Dustin turns it into a scientific discussion and Steve does his best to steer the conversation back. 

“No, like sexual electricity.” He explains.

As soon as the words leave Steve’s lips, you whip around and shout, “Are you seriously talking to my little brother about sexual electricity?”

Both Dustin and Steve freeze in place, dumbfounded. You let out a loud groan and continue stomping away, now even more aggressively throwing the chunks at the train tracks. 

“How did she even hear me?” Steve whispers, terrified. 

“I don’t know,” Your brother whispers back, also equally frightened. “Sometimes I think she has powers like El.”

Once you’re a safe enough distance away from them, Dustin hesitantly brings the girl conversation back up. “Hypothetically, what do girls like?”

Steve takes a second to answer, carefully rolling the question around in his mind. “It depends on the girl. Some girls want you to be aggressive, ya know? Go in for the kiss, make them feel protected. Strong, hot and heavy. Like a lion.” 

Dustin hums to indicate he’s following along, but ‘like a lion’ has him a little worried about the reliability of the conversation. He knows that Steve is a lady’s man, but he’s also never seen him with any girl besides Nancy, and the one time he saw him with you, he had immediately pissed you off. 

So for all Dustin knows, it could be lies. 

Steve continues his confusing explanation. “But others? You gotta be slow, you gotta be stealthy… like a ninja!”

“Okay, what type is Nancy?” Dustin asks, hoping to get the teen to stop making stupid analogies. Lions, ninjas… maybe it was all lies. 

The question catches Steve off guard and he stumbles a bit, feeling the familiar sense of protectiveness, insecurity, over the girl as well as a new sense of loss. What type is Nancy? If he had been asked this a week ago, Steve would’ve told Dustin that she’s a nice girl, a girl he could happily bring home to his parents and proudly wrap around his arms. Now? He’s not so sure. 

Not when he can still see the anger and disgust in Nancy’s eyes that night at the party. 

“Nancy’s different,” he recalls his conversation with you from last night, how he’d confessed to always feeling two steps behind the girl and how exhausting it all is. “She’s just different. Let’s move on to the next question.” 

Dustin notices Steve’s change in demeanor but doesn’t say anything. He supposes that you and him have a lot in common, then. “Okay, what type would you say Y/N is?”

Once again Steve isn’t expecting the question Dustin asks. “What–” he trips over a twig and just barely manages to catch himself. “Why would you ask me that? She’s your sister, and I don’t even like her–”

“Relax, Romeo. She’s just similar to Nancy and the girl I like, and I figured you’d know Y/N well enough by now considering you guys slept together–”

“I slept on her bean bag–”

“And have been friends for like, a year. Plus, she’s in love with Jonathan, you’re in love with Nancy, and coincidentally they’re in love with each other. Figures that there’s some type intermingling between the four of you.”

How the hell does everyone know about Nancy and Jonathan? Steve thinks bitterly. 

He’s silent for multiple seconds, absolutely at a loss for what to say. He doesn’t know where to begin or what to even deny. Technically the boy is right, as much as it hurts Steve to admit. He’s all but lost Nancy to Jonathan, and you’ve lost Jonathan to Nancy. 

In an extremely messed up way, you and Nancy do have the same type. On top of that, both you and Nancy are close to Jonathan, so it’s safe to assume there’s similarities to the both of you that Steve doesn’t even want to touch on right now.

Even more importantly, Steve has yet to really decipher why your presence alone can make or break his entire day. Why, after months of not talking, it now feels like he’s finally come home again with you back in his life. 

He looks at you again, still angrily throwing your bait, and he supposes that you’re a lot like Nancy in certain aspects, and yet completely different from her. “Y/N is also different, I guess. She’s incredibly intelligent both emotionally and academically. Isn’t she like the top of her class?”

Dustin nods, proud of the Henderson intelligence, and Steve continues. 

“Right. I’d say she’s like Nancy, except she’s softer?” Steve cringes at his own words, suddenly uncomfortable with comparing the two of you. In his mind, you’re both your own separate entities that infatuate him in different ways. 

You both burn Steve; Nancy is like a shot of whiskey, the thrill that follows the burn. But you? You’re a fireplace after hours of being out in the cold, the burn of it warming his bones.

“Y/N is just… she’s special, but everyone knows that. Your sister is the most caring person I’ve ever met, and I know I’m a lucky son of a bitch to be someone she trusts.” 

Dustin snorts. “Yeah you are.”

Up ahead, you finally slow down and face the boys, now waiting for them to catch up and call out, “C’mon, ladies! The sun sets soon, I don’t want Lucas waiting in the cold all alone.” 

“Looks like I’ve been forgiven.” Steve says, relief evident in his voice, something that your brother doesn’t miss.

Dustin lets out another loud snort, patting him on the chest, “Oh, my sister may be forgiving, but she never forgets.” With that, he walks away to catch up with you. 

“Well, isn’t that ominous.” 

You greet the boys with a tired smile, knowing there’s no use holding resentment towards Steve. He couldn’t have known about your mixed feelings towards Jonathan, you know he had only been trying to get along with Dustin. 

Things are still weird between you two, despite the conversation from last night, but it’s hard to stay mad at Steve and honestly, you don’t really want to be mad at him. It’s been so lovely having him around again, and your own confusing feelings can wait. 

Steve leans in close to you, gently grabbing at your hand so that you don’t walk away. “Hey, we okay?”

His eyes are full of concern and his voice is sickly sweet like honey. With the honey, the remaining bits of anger vanishes. “Of course we’re okay.”

Steve exhales deeply and you giggle at him before remembering that Dustin is quite literally a few feet away from you two. Coughing, you hold up your bucket to point out how it’s almost empty. “I guess in my rage, I flung more than I intended. How are your buckets holding up?” 

The two boys hold their buckets up, giving you a mock solute to indicate that all is good. You laugh, impressed by how synched they’ve become in such a short time. 

“Alright, then. Let’s get going.” As you all begin to walk in line again, you ask, “What were you guys even talking about, anyways?” 

The boys glance at each other in a conspiring way, which causes you to roll your eyes. They’re acting like you asked for their deepest and darkest secrets. They seem to have a silent conversation for a couple seconds before Steve finally speaks up. 

“I was just giving Little Henderson some girl advice. Nothing serious.” 

You raise your eyebrows, your heart swelling a bit at the idea of Steve giving your brother advice. It’s sweet, really. “Girl advice, huh?”

“Yeah, why do you sound so skeptical?” 

“Because you’re terrible with girls.” 

Dustin now butts in, “He told me to be aggressive.” 

“I did not!”

“He also said that you’re softer than Nancy.”

You make a face. “Thank you? I think?”

Steve tugs at his hair in frustration. “You two are the worst people I’ve ever met. You know that, right?” 

In unison, you and Dustin reply, “We get that a lot.” 

Steve stares at the two of you with slight horror in his eyes. “Yeah, alright. I’m out.” 

You grab at his sleeve, gently stopping him from storming away. You give him an apologetic look and pull him close so that your chest bumps against his. “You’ve gotta get used to the Henderson humor, Steve.”

He looks surprised by your tugging at his sleeve before he lets a smile cross his face. He doesn’t do anything else, but he also doesn’t back away, either, and you find yourself blushing a bit under his gaze. 

You clear your throat and let go of his sleeve, stepping back a bit. “Anyways, why don’t you tell me what wise advice you have for my brother.” 

The smile that was just on Steve’s face vanishes as he looks away from you. “I was just telling the kid to not fall in love with his little crush. He’s too young for heartbreak and all that other shit.” 

“I’m not in love with her!” Dustin exclaims in disgust, but you’re too distracted by Steve’s words to assure your brother that you believe him. 

“Well, I believe that love is something beautiful.” You say, your words only meeting Steve’s turned back. He doesn’t acknowledge you, but you know his indifference holds no malice. He’s still hurting, still in love with Nancy Wheeler. “Dustin, you may be too young to be in love, but don’t listen to Steve. To love and be loved is the luckiest thing we can ever do, regardless of how it ends.” 

Dustin blanches at your words, grossed out now. “Okay, okay, stop! Love is gross. I get it.” 

You softly mumble sorry to him, now suddenly remembering that he’s only thirteen. When you were his age, the idea of love also grossed you out. Now, love is a concept that you’ve found a comforting warmth in, even if it's burned you a few times and has left you more exhausted than exhilarated. One day he’ll understand (in the far off future, hopefully). 

For now, you flick your brother’s hat and follow after Steve, finishing the rest of the bait journey in silence. 

– 

By the time the three of you get to the junkyard, it’s already about midday. 

It’s different from how you imagined it, filled with old cars and a giant school bus. It’s more open, too, not as “junkyard” as you assumed. 

You, Steve, and Dustin stand at the top of the hill, surveying the area. Your feet ache from the walk and the sun is hurting your eyes. Seeing you squinting, Steve wordlessly hands you his signature Raybans and motions for you to put them on. 

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, this will do. It’ll do just fine,” He says, satisfied as he begins to walk down the hill. Then, as an afterthought, he says to Dustin, “Good call, dude.”

Dustin beams with pride and you fill with so much happiness, seeing the boy getting along so well with Steve, that you almost regret not having them meet sooner. However, there’s no time to wallow in what-if’s and you put Steve’s sunglasses on to follow after the boys. 

Immediately you and Steve get to work, working seamlessly together side by side, months of him joining you in Bookstrordinary finally being put to use. While you and Steve silently scatter more meat and grab supplies, Dustin surveys the area.

Just as you’ve dumped the remaining meat in the middle of the field, you hear Lucas’ voice call from a few yards away, “I said medium well!”

The boy is with Max, who looks slightly displeased, yet curious, to be here. Despite her still obvious hesitation, you still feel excited seeing the girl. You’ve been meaning to talk more to her, she seems like such a lovely girl. 

“Who’s that?” Steve asks you.

“Max! She’s great, and–” You start gushing about the girl, eager to go and say hi, before you see the crestfallen look on Dustin’s face when he realizes why she’s with Lucas. You remember, then, the weird tug-of-war between the boys over her. Shit. 

You grab at Steve’s hand and pull him aside. “Actually, Steve, why don’t we start finding some panels to cover the bus?”

Steve gives you a questioning look, but when you silently motion towards Dustin and he sees his despair as well, he catches on and just nods, following along. Without having to tell him, he understands that you want to leave Dustin alone so he can talk to Lucas. 

As always, you’re forever thankful that he can read you so well. 

After guiding Steve away, you and him begin to prep the junkyard alongside Max. While the boys are talking, you take this as an opportunity to get to know the girl better. 

“So,” you begin, helping Max carry a large piece of wood over to the bus. “I see you’re back again.”

“Looks like it,” she shrugs, not really feeling like talking. Seems like she’s still mad at you for yesterday, taking Lucas’ side over hers. 

You sigh. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”

“That’s a first.” Again she deflects, but you know she’s doing it out of hurt rather than maliciousness. 

“I know you don’t really like me right now, which I totally understand, I just wanted to let you know that while I don’t like that you’ve been dragged into this mess, I’m happy you’re here.”

Max frowns at you. “You guys act like I’m going to like, die or something.”

A scrap of metal that you’d been carrying slips from your hands. Steve hears this and comes rushing over to help, but you gently wave him away and focus on Max. “I don’t know what Lucas told you, but it’s all true. It’s dangerous, being here, and I just… If you ever get hurt, any of you kids, then it’d be on me and I’d never forgive myself.”

“Way to be a buzzkill, Y/N.” Steve nudges you, trying to get you to smile before your ever-present guilt bears down upon you. 

Max bites her lip, still disbelieving, but she recognizes the pained look of protectiveness on your face. It’s not something that someone can easily fake, and from what she’s heard about you, your kindness is one of the few genuine things in Hawkins. 

Before she can say anything else, Steve lets out a huff and grabs a chair to bang on the car that Lucas and Dustin are talking behind. “Hey! Dickheads! How come it’s only Y/N and some random girl helping me?”

“Language!” You chastise. 

Steve sends you a thumbs up, not really listening. “We lose light in forty minutes. Let’s go!”

Dustin and Lucas reluctantly start helping, both calling Steve an asshole and throwing him dirty looks, which you can’t help but laugh at. 

Lucas sees you laughing and points at you. “Are you the reason Harrington is here?”

“Mhm,” you respond, nailing another piece of wood to the bus. “He’s done more to help than you have, so either pick up some metal and help or go sit in a corner and sulk. Up to you.”

Steve high fives you. “Yeah! What she said!”

Lucas’ shoulders sag, completely at a loss as to how any of this has happened. “This is so weird.”

“Dude, I’ve spent all day with them. Imagine how I feel,” Dustin groans. “I think I died a little when I found out they’ve been friends for like, a year.”

“A year?” Lucas gasps. 

“Guys!” You throw pebbles at the two boys to break up their little gossip session. “One, I’m incredibly hurt you two didn’t think I had any friends besides Jonathan. Two, start helping before I throw more rocks.”

“Yes ma’am,” both boys grumble in unison, which Max finds pretty impressive. 

After that, the five of you get to work. You guys use every item available in the junkyard to secure the bus, hoping that with enough stacked against it, you’ll be safe from Dart once he’s lured. Barrels are rolled, more sheets of metal are placed against the bus, and within the next hour or so you’ve successfully managed to build a decent base. 

All that’s left is to pour the gasoline trail, which you help Steve with as the kids watch from inside the bus. 

“I’m getting major deja-vu right now,” you mumble as Steve pours. 

“Gasoline at Jonathan’s?” 

“Mhm. God, he wouldn’t believe what we’re doing right now.” You know he would’ve loved this bizarre interaction. You, Steve, and the kids all in a junkyard trying to lure a baby Demogorgon. 

You’ve definitely had better babysitting days, and Jonathan would have a field day with this one. 

Once you’re done with the gasoline, you and Steve return to the bus. He waits behind you, making sure you’re securely in the car, before he heaves the old bus door closed. As soon as the door is closed, you and Steve exhale together.

You share a look, both in silent agreement to keep the kids safe no matter what. It’s your guys’ job to keep them safe, to fight for and protect them. 

Deja-vu again. You’re back in Jonathan’s house, holding a switchblade while Steve wields his bat. 

“Ready?” He asks you, extending his hand out for you to grab. 

You interlock your fingers through his. “When am I ever?”

Steve laughs, dispelling away any remaining uncertainty and fear. You know, that no matter what, that he’ll be by your side to help. With this in mind, you join the kids further into the bus. 

Lucas climbs the ladder up to the top, something you’re not fully okay with, but he’s the one with the binoculars and you the switchblade, so it makes the most sense. As the boy climbs, you sit down next to Steve as he flicks his lighter on and off. You’re pressed shoulder to shoulder, his presence grounding you.

Dustin paces, and all you can do is watch him as you try to settle your own nerves. Max has seated herself at the other end of the bus, her arms crossed as usual. 

After a few moments of silence, she finally speaks. “So, you really fought one of these things before?”

Steve nods and you hum in agreement. “Unfortunately.”

“And you’re, like, totally, 100% sure it wasn’t a bear?”

“I mean, to be fair I also had that same thought last year–”

Dustin cuts you off. “Shit, don’t be an idiot, okay? It wasn’t a bear.”

You roughly grab at your brother, yanking him towards you to shut him up. “Dustin–”

“Why are you even here if you don’t believe us?” He sneers at Max, something you’ve never, ever seen your sweet brother do. “Just go home.”

Max clenches her jaw and you send her an apologetic look, but she rolls her eyes at you. “Geesh, someone’s cranky. Past your bedtime?” 

“Max, wait–” She ignores you and climbs up the ladder to join Lucas. You groan once she’s gone, now more than ever wanting to strangle your brother. “Dustin, what the hell was that?”

“That was good, Y/N!” Steve says, a proud smirk on his face. “He showed her he didn’t care, just like I told him to.”

“Oh, so it’s your fault my sweet, innocent baby brother is now some woman hating misogynistic piece of–”

“I don’t hate women, Y/N.” Dustin tiredly says, before directing his next words to Steve. “And I don’t care.”

Steve winks at the boy, but immediately flinches back when you raise your hand to smack him. “Yeah, cower away, you idiotic and moronic–”

“Y/N, stop overreacting and Steve, stop winking at me.”

You raise your eyebrows at Dustin’s tone and he quickly clears his throat and steps away from you. Steve puts some distance between you two as well, scooting away a bit so that he’s out of hitting range. 

It’s quiet again, both boys now scared of your anger, and you anxiously wait for Dart to show up. 

Steve goes back to flicking the lighter, Dustin paces again, and you tap your foot nervously. The silence is killing you, it’s always been your least favorite part of the Upside Down. The waiting, hoping you’re prepared for when all hell inevitably breaks loose. 

You flick your own blades out, admiring the way the blades catch in the moonlight, when you hear a loud growl come from outside. Instinctively you raise your blades to your face while Steve and Dustin scramble to peek through the metal sheets to look out the window. 

“You guys see him?” Dustin asks as he crouches next to you. 

You shake your head. “No,”

There’s nothing outside, only a thick haze of fog that has settled over the junkyard. 

“Lucas, what’s going on?” Your brother calls up to his friend.

“Hold on!” The boy responds. 

Your heart begins to beat faster, your blades never straying away from your face, poised for a fight. Steve sees the way your knuckles whiten over your weapon and he grabs your spare hand, gently coaxing you to calm down. 

Your fingers tighten around Steve’s and you remember his words from last night, promising you that he’ll be there, and you believe him. 

From the bus’ roof, you hear Lucas call down, “I’ve got eyes! Ten o’clock–ten o’clock!”

There, in the haze of fog, you see a hunched figure stalk its way towards the bus. Seeing Dart, you’re filled with complete dread. He’s grown again, much bigger than you’ve ever seen him.

He’s practically the size of the Demogorgon from last year, the same one that almost killed you and Steve. 

“What’s he doing?” Dustin asks, as if anyone else would have any more information than he does. 

“I don’t know,” Steve sighs, his eyes never leaving Dart. 

You squeeze his hand again and hold your breath as you watch the Demodog. He slowly approaches the bait, inspects the area, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in it. You send a silent prayer to whatever god is above that your plan will work. 

It has to work. 

However, Dart starts to back away from the bait and Steve leans even closer to the window. “He’s not taking the bait. Why isn’t he taking the bait?”

“I don’t know,” you want to cry from exhaustion and fear and defeat. 

Dustin looks over at you. “Maybe he’s not hungry?”

Something seems to click, then, for Steve. His eyes light up with an idea, and before he can even get his words out, you grasp at Steve’s arm and try to talk him out of it. “No, absolutely not. You’re not going out there.”

“Maybe he’s sick of cow.” Steve tries to make you let go of him, but you quickly tighten your hold on him and fight back. “Y/N, let me go, I can run fast and–”

“You can’t just use yourself as bait!” You plead, but Steve has always been stronger than you and he drags you behind him as he makes his way towards the bus door. “Steve, listen to me!”

“Steve? Steve!” Dustin finally catches on to what’s happening and he grabs at the teen as well. “What are you doing?”

Steve ignores you both and with a quick jerk of his arm, he frees himself from you. As soon as you’ve let go, he runs towards the door and snatches his bat from the ground. You curse, knowing there’s no way in hell he’s going out there alone, so you follow after him. 

Dustin sees this and panics. “Y/N, please don’t tell me you’re going–”

“Stay put!” You command, scrambling after Steve, who has now begun to open the door. He tosses you the lighter, which you toss to your brother. “Just get ready, Dustin!”

“Y/N!”

“I love you!”

Dustin continues to shout, his pleas laced with more fear than you’ve ever heard from him, but you force yourself to leave. Just as you’ve stepped outside and re-closed the bus door, Dustin pounds against the glass that you’ve locked, tears in his eyes.

You look away, despite how fucking hard it is, and it takes everythin within you to leave. 

Steve saved your life last year. 

Now it’s your turn. 

It’s tense outside as you and Steve walk back to back, weapons out. He twirls his bat a few times, a move that you find yourself smiling at due to its familiarity. With your back against his, you whisper to Steve, “You look for Dart, I keep an eye for anything else?”

He nods, and together the two of you slowly follow the sound of Dart’s chittering. 

“C’mon buddy,” Steve taunts, beginning to whistle. 

“I know we named it a Demodog, but I don’t think whistling will help.”

“We could be about to die, and you’re seriously questioning what I’m doing?”

You shrug, eyes now on the skyline as the fog slowly thickens. “Habit.”

Steve chuckles, which brings some comfort to the fucking awful situation at hand. He whistles some more, continuing to taunt Dart. “C’mon. Dinner time.”

“Again with offering Dart meals while we’re near him,” you shake your head, not at all liking where any of this is going.

“What? At least human tastes better than cat.” Steve responds, now at the pile of raw meat.

You both stop here, Steve facing the bait and you facing the bus, still scanning for literally anything else that could possibly go wrong. Because you’re Y/N Henderson and nothing can ever, ever go right for you. 

Dart lets out another growl, now having spotted Steve, and the teen swings his bat around. You spare a quick glance behind you and see Dart, who has placed all his focus on you and Steve. 

Well, at least the live bait plan is working. 

You turn away again, and as soon as you do, you see the other Demodogs now suddenly appear. Your blood runs cold when you see the two up ahead, one directly in front of you and one on top of the cars. 

For a moment, your words seem to fail you and no sound comes out when you try to speak. All you can do is stare at them, overcome with fear. You’re back in Jonathan’s once more, the fear strangling you as the memories paralyze you. 

From the top of the bus, Lucas yells, “Steve! Y/N! Watch out!”

“We’re a little busy here!” Steve yells back, eyes still on Dart. 

The Demodog in front of you starts to approach, which finally seems to break you from your spell. Shakily, you tell Steve, “There’s more.”

“What?” He tries to turn around, but you shove at him to not lose sight of Dart. You can’t distract him now. Another Demodog has joined.

“Three o’clock! Right in front of Y/N!” Lucas screams, his voice cracking with fear. 

“Y/N?” Steve fully turns around now when he realizes that you’re also in danger, and when he sees the three other Demodogs, he lets out a curse. “Shit.”

Suddenly, you and Steve are surrounded by Demodogs, more than you ever could’ve imagined. More than the two of you can even fight on your own. 

Back at Jonathan’s, it had taken guns, fire, knives, and bats to kill a grown Demogorgon. 

You don’t think your knives and Steve’s bat will be enough for Demodogs. 

“Steve! Y/N! Abort!” Dustin has flung the bus door open, screeching for the two of you to get out of there. 

It’s too late. Dart has opened his mouth and is running towards you two, his friends joining as well. 

“I go left, you go right!” Steve has just enough time to direct you before Dart lunges. 

You dodge, going right as instructed while Steve flings himself on top of a car to avoid the monsters. As Steve hits Dart with his bat, crouched against the car, you narrowly avoid the other Demodog and drop to the ground as it jumps over your head. “Shit!”

Steve swings his bat again and tries to make his way over to you, but you’re off the ground in a heartbeat and run to him instead. Two of the Demodogs are on him now, and there’s only so much damage his bat can do. Breathless, you run over and stab at their backs, doing everything you can to give Steve an opening to run. 

Faintly, you hear the kids in the background cheering you guys on, urging you two to come home.

One of the Demodogs lets out a harsh screech as your blade pierces its skin. It crumbles to the ground, giving Steve just enough of an opening to begin running towards the bus. When he goes to run, you notice one of the Demodogs eying him, and before you can even process what’s happening, you’re throwing yourself in front of him and you feel nails tear at your ribs.

You scream, clutching at your side in agony, feeling blood quickly beginning to spill from your wound. “Fuck!”

“Y/N!” Steve starts to run toward you, pale with fear. 

“No!” You shove him back towards the bus; you can’t let him get hurt because of you. “Go, I’ll be fine!” 

He tries to argue, but you take a deep breath and grip his jacket tightly, practically flinging him inside the bus just before Dart lunges again. Together, the two of you stumble up the steps and barricade the door. 

As soon as it’s closed, Dart begins slamming against it with his entire body. 

Steve uses his legs to hold the door closed while you lay sprawled on the ground, trying to steady your breathing as more blood spills from you. The room is spinning and you’re pretty sure you can taste blood in your mouth. 

Awesome. Cool. 

The kids are screaming and Dart’s body causes the entire bus to rock as his friends now join, throwing their own bodies against the bus as well.

“Are they rabid or something?” Max screams, but everyone ignores her. 

Steve, quick as ever, finds a spare piece of metal and wedges it against the door and uses his legs again to hold it in place. He looks over at you on the ground and feels his heart jump to his throat. You���re pale, a sheen of sweat now dotted across your forehead, and there’s now a concerningly large pool of blood where you lay. “Dustin, go help your sister!”

Dustin looks up and finally notices your injury and almost faints at the sight. In a daze, he runs over to you and kneels down, terrified of how much blood there is. “Oh my god.”

“I’m fine,” you wince, trying to clench your teeth and bear through the pain. “Honestly, this is like a paper cut.”

“Y/N–” The sound of glass shattering cuts Dustin off as a Demodog breaks through the window. Everyone screams, and your brother grabs your arms and drags you further towards the back of the bus to avoid any glass getting on you. 

Wearily, you watch as Steve does whatever he can with his bat, and a part of you wants to laugh. He looks like he’s playing the hardest game of wack-a-mole ever. 

Meanwhile, Lucas and Max have joined you and Dustin. When they see you, Lucas lets out a choked scream while Max covers her eyes. 

“Are you okay?” Lucas kneels over you as well, and you find his sincerity endearing. He’s always been the sweetest in the group, the most comforting. 

“Never been better,” you wheeze out. 

Dustin instructs Lucas to stay with you while he tries to radio for help. “Is anyone there? Mike? Will? God? Anyone!”

“God would be pretty nice to have.” You remark, pain making you even more delirious than usual. 

Max looks at Lucas. “She’s losing it.”

“I think I’m doing great, all things considered.”

Dustin continues to scream into his walkie for help while Lucas tries to stop your bleeding. Max is running around, looking for anything to help, and Steve is still stuck at the front of the bus playing wack-a-mole with Demodogs. 

The situation is so fucking grim, and you’ve never wanted to laugh more. 

Then, to make matters even worse, the ceiling of the bus starts to creak. You see the faint outlines of what suspiciously looks like Demodog footprints on the roof. In slow, agonizing footsteps, Dart makes his way over to the emergency exit on top.

He leers over, and Max, who is at the bottom of the ladder, screams. 

Steve shoves the kids back and you try to get up, but Lucas pushes you down and shakes his head at you. 

“You want some? Come get this!” Steve places himself between Dart and you and the kids, screaming at the thing and waving his bat around, and you’ve never been more attracted to him.

Dart lets out a blood curdling screech, his mouth full of rows of razor sharp teeth that killed your cat just the other day, and you cling onto Lucas’ hand. Another screech, and just before Dart strikes at Steve, it jumps off the bus and runs away. 

Everyone freezes, unsure what to do, as more distant growls and howls can be heard from outside. Steve and the rest stand up, and you notice Lucas holding Max’s hand, and at least something good came out of this hellhole of a day. 

“Any help here?” You finally ask after a minute or so, still lying helplessly on the ground as you bleed.

“Shit!” Steve drops his bat. “Where did it get you, where’s the bleeding? Dustin, did we pack any bandages, or–or an EMT stretcher or–”

“Steve,” you grab his hand, urging him to calm down. “It scratched the fuck out of my ribcage, but I’m not dying. I promise.”

“You’re not?” Dustin asks, tears in his eyes. 

“I’m not. I just…” you shift, wincing at the pain. “I just really need a bandage and I’ll be good as new.”

Steve swallows, a frenzied look in his eyes, and nods. Without thinking, he tears a piece of your bloodied cardigan off and gently lifts your body up so that he can wrap the shred of cloth around you. He weaves it tight, his movements slow and delicate, his eyes never leave yours. 

You can feel his hands shaking as he tends to your wound and ties the cloth with a knot. When he’s done, even though you’re aware of the kids’ eyes on you two, you bring his hands to your lips and kiss them. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” He whispers, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. Dustin coughs, which seems to make Steve remember where he is, and he clears his throat. “Right, well. Try not to lose any more blood, yeah?”

“I’ll try,” 

Steve nods and stands back up, knowing Dustin and Lucas will want a moment with you, and makes his way back outside. He knows that they’re all still in danger, even if for some reason the Demdogs seem to have left. 

Once Steve is gone, Dustin and Lucas help you stand, and as soon as you’re up, both boys try their best to give you a hug without hurting you. 

“Don’t do that ever again,” Dustin sniffs, squeezing your uninjured side tightly.

“What he said,” Lucas sniffs as well, though he tries to hide his tears from you. 

You laugh, your own tears evident as you hold the boys tight. “I promise.” 

“You saved Steve,” Max notes, though her tone is neutral, you can see she’s impressed.

“I had to even out a debt.” 

“Guys,” Steve calls from outside. “The coast is clear.”

Slowly, you and the kids make your way out of the bus. It takes some help from both Dustin and Lucas, but eventually you’re able to walk on your own, holding your side, and walk down the steps. 

“You okay?” Steve is by your side as soon as you’ve stepped down, holding you so that he’s not touching your cut. You’re thankful for his support, the pain still making you feel woozy. 

“We’ll talk later,” you motion towards the kids, not wanting to worry them any further. 

He nods, although he hates that you feel like you can’t focus on your own safety. 

“What happened?” Lucas asks the group. 

“I don’t know.” Max looks around, and you think she’s finally starting to understand what she’s gotten herself into. 

Dustin points to you and Steve. “Maybe they scared ‘em off?”

“No,” Steve shakes his head. It couldn’t have been that easy. “No way.”

“They’re going somewhere.” You finish for him, confirming your worst fears. Suddenly, more pain shoots through you and you wince again, squeezing your eyes shut. 

Steve bends his head down, guiding you a bit away from the kids so that they won’t hear. “Hey, we don’t have to follow them. We can go home, you know.”

“We can’t.” You clench your jaw as pain rings throughout your body. The goddamn Demodog got you good. “We have to follow. It’s all connected, Will and his episodes, Nancy and Jonathan with the detective, and I’ll be damned if I back down now.”

“So we follow?” Steve asks, trusting whatever call you make.

You nod, knowing you have to do this. While you guys are safe for now, you know that everyone else has to be in danger; you have to protect them. “Unfortunately.” 

-

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[victoria-grimesss]

tear you apart - part I

masterlist

->Pairing: König x fem!reader

->Words: 2.2k

->Warning: sexual thoughts, use of Y/N, close proximity, and tension, eventual smut

->Summary: König is kinda mean, dark and a little possessive but it’s all in good fun! A new girl catches the colonel's eyes, and he won’t let her go. Inspired by my favorite song Tear you Apart by She Wants Revenge.

->A/N: please let me know what ya’ll think, this is my first time writing anything spicy so im open to feedback. Also my requests are always open :)

The base is cold as it should be at this time of year, you transferred from the states to the Austrian KorTac base against your own wishes, you are a specialized stealth agent that the higher ups thought could be a valued member to the KorTac team. Wishing to be back in the sun but alas your new skies are clouded and mean.

It is what it is, you thought to yourself, lacing your boots, and emerging from your room. It’s always a weird adjustment process when you transfer to a new base, learning the way around like learning a new maze each time. The people were friendly enough although you didn’t know if it was because you were a new soldier or just because you were a new pretty face around that hadn’t heard any rumors about the seedy guys and their proclivities.

Altogether you have heard one rumor,

One big, tall, menacing rumor.

König

“The king”

Curiosity killed the cat and God help you, all you wanted was to know if what they said was true. Before you left for transfer you heard whispers when they found out where you were going.

“She’ll be miserable under his watch.”

“He’ll have her running laps and doing reps the first day for sure.”

“He’ll eat her alive.”

 “He’ll eat her alive.”

 Did these whispers make her shiver? Yes

Did these whispers make her restless? Yes

Did these whispers make her ache in anticipation? Absolutely.

 It’s been a long while since the last body occupied her bed, a touch a century ago, a kiss eons ago. All these fairy tales about this big, tall strong man that could throw her two football fields didn’t help her desperation at all.

She knew these thoughts weren’t appropriate, sleeping with a superior was frowned upon. He was probably married and happy, men like that don’t stay on the market for long. And from the stories she heard she obviously has no shot with him.

She rounded a corner from the barracks and exited to the outside courtyard, the air nipping at her skin. Dark clouds looms and the trees are barren of leaves ready for life anew. Approaching the main building the smell of sweat and metal entered her nose making way to the meeting room.

——

The debriefing was the same as all the others, the captain explaining what to do and who goes where. She nearly fell asleep until the doorknob turned, that’s weird, usually people don’t barge into these things halfway through… unless they’re king of the castle.

He enters the room, his aura dominating those around him. His stature is something to behold, well over six feet of pure muscle. He could break me over his knee like a glowstick and I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it…

He stalks into the room greeting the captain, his voice it deep and dark and you want to hear more of it.

His gear makes him all that bulkier, his mask concealing his face and yea, if I were the enemy and I saw him running towards me I would definitely shit my pants.

He stands at the front of the room observing everyone in it and maintaining concentration on the presentation the captain is giving for the next mission. You try your hardest to maintain the same concentration but he’s just so tall and all the rumors are true he’s an enigma. You find your eyes drinking him in, from his shoes to the metal plates on his shins, to his..oh god… his broad broad shoulders. You imagine taking your hands and tracing over them feeling the thick muscles underneath his war-torn skin as you bring your hands lower-

 He shifts in place.

 Your eyes quickly dart away then to his eyes, his eyes locked on yours like a predator watching his prey.

You immediately break into a sweat, his eyes like a spotlight and they don’t move from you.

You look again to see if he’s still looking, he tilts his head a bit to the side and raises an eyebrow teasingly. Shit. oh no he’s hot. Like really hot.

Shifting in your seat, nervous beads of sweat dripping down your neck, the meeting is coming to a close and people start tucking in their chairs. König is still standing by the door, his eyes still locked on yours, I wonder what he’s thinking. I mean, surely if he’s a married man he wouldn’t be looking at me so hard….right? Maybe no one told him you were transferring so he’s just confused on who the fuck is this new girl in here I didn’t approve this. By now most of everyone has left the room, the projector is turned off, the map put away, the captain gone. You move your gaze to the floor and get up and tuck in your chair, clearing your throat, now realizing how eerily quiet the room is and you haven’t heard König make a noise since he greeted the captain. You make your way to the door, preparing to walk by him and out of the room.

An arm shoots out to block the doorway and you are forced to stop dead in your tracks keeping your eyes dead set on the long dark hallway in front of you.

“Your name soldier.” He barks, his voice smooth and dark like black coffee. The sweat beads up again and you know for a fact your face is growing hot.

“Y/N, sir.” You straighten your back and maintain my straight state.

He leans down. You can tell he’s looking at you and you raise your eyes to meet his and your heart is racing a million miles an hour and nerves are on fire you breath is uneven and you know he knows, I mean who wouldn’t be uneasy this close to him.

“I-I’m the transfer from the states sir, from the stealth unit.”

“I know who you are hübsches Mädchen, read your file. Approved your transfer myself.”

He replied, his eyes never leaving mine. He’s even more intimidating this close but something deep within you wants to reach out to him and quell this thirst for his touch.

“I appreciate you thinking me worthy to serve on this team, I won’t let you down.” You affirm with the little strength you have left. His gaze is piercing but intoxicating all the same.

He removes his hand slowly from the doorframe and straightens his back standing at his full height again. His begins again,

“Training at 0700 tomorrow morning be there, I’d like to see you demonstrate some maneuvers see if you need any additional training. I will be watching closely, do not disappoint me.” His arms are crossed now and he’s even larger than before.

“Yes, of course sir, I’ll be there.”

“I look forward to it.” His tone is light now, maybe even teasing.

You swear you saw him wink but maybe it was just the lighting and how it hit his mask.

“Well run along kleiner Hase; you need your beauty sleep after all.” He motions to the hallway and you take quick steps back to your room, cheeks still hot and breath still quick. It was going to be difficult to have him as your commanding officer.

——

Sleep didn’t come easy, tossing and turning and thinking about the way König devoured you with his eyes made you sweat and frankly being that close to him and replaying that moment over and over again didn’t help with your insomnia. You thought of him a lot that night, more than once, enough to make your hand cramp up. By the time it was daylight you were running off 4 hours of sleep and a large coffee you picked up from the mess hall. You trudged your way over to the main building again where the gym and training room was, once again passing through the courtyard.

The trees are still barren, and you almost slip on the sleet left on the pathway cursing to yourself and hoping to god no one saw.

The gym smells musty, the air vents clearly working overtime since the gym has some activity. A couple groups of pairs work on sparing on the far side and others work out alone. You walk over to the mats and stand to the side watching the two pairs fight for the upper hand, takedown training great, you knew how to do it most of the time on missions you were equipped with a silenced pistol and other quieter tools. Stealth takedowns are your forte but it can’t hurts to get more practice with face to face takedowns.

The fight with the two are done and you were too busy thinking to hear your voice being called.”

“Sergeant L/N!, to the mat.” König barked, his authority shaking the ground, not the best first impression on training day.

You apologize quickly and step onto the mat, your opponent being someone a bit taller than you but not by much, a weight to weight equal, should be easy enough.

König’s eyes watch you as you grapple with the opponent twisting his arm and throwing him over your shoulder onto the mat, you brace your knee on his neck and apply a small amount of pressure, the opponent taps out. He won’t lie, König felt his pants get tight from seeing you work so effectively. Your work is certainly good, he won’t lie, taking down someone so easily.

“Again, another.” He barks once more, his accent thick.

You take down another three opponents, you clearly are growing restless from the muscle exertion and signal to take a break. König watches with amusement.

“A break? What if this was real combat kleiner Hase, will you beg your advisories to adjourn their dissatisfaction for you? Beg them for a time out?” By now he’s stepped onto the mat with you, today he’s shed the outer layer of his gear just wearing his mask and usual military uniform, he still looks just as hot.

“There’s no time for breaks out there as you know, and when you come up with a larger enemy you must be able to take them down as well.”

Fuck.

He wants you to take HIM down, your muscles are already weak from the last three fights he surly knows you’ve exerted yourself right? Right?!

“Go on schatz, I’ll let you make the first move.” His voice has an edge of teasing to it and you want to rip off his mask and see the smirk you know he’s displaying.

You huff

“Very well sir.”

You move to grapple his middle trying to take out his legs, he’s sturdy like a tree and you think if you can take out his legs he’ll go down like one. He budges only slightly when you hit on a pressure point and just when he’s moving and you think you’ve gain the upper hand he sweeps your legs from underneath you and has you pinned. Your wrists are bound by one of his hands above you head and he’s got both of his very thick thighs straddling you.

Your face grows hot at your defeat, especially all your other coworkers seeing it too. But it burns even hotter when he comes down close to your ear and whispers to you,

“You look very pretty underneath me schatz, so pretty when you are short of breath.” He laughs, that bastard.

You can’t admit it but your panties grow damp at his words and your body is on fire, although to those around you it just looks like you’ve over exerted yourself with a tad too much training.

König stand, his height from down here is astonishing. He reaches a hand down and lifts you to your feet but he’s so strong you accidentally collide with his chest before taking a quick step back. You mumble an apology.

“You fight well L/N, no doubt you will be a fine addition to this team. Although you will need to know how to take down large adversaries so I can help you with additional training of course.”

He holds his hand for you to shake it and you meet him halfway, his large hand grips yours and you get a flashback to feeling it wrapped tightly around your wrists, you shiver.

König’s gaze casts down upon you, no woman has yet to capture his attention the way you have. Many have tried. Thrown themselves at him in an unsavory manner, but you, oh you’re different. He admires the way you speak to him, although not many words have been exchanged between the two of you he prays there are more.

Your hair, your eyes, your body, all of it has entranced him and the moment he laid eyes on you, the others know. The way his gaze is steady and dark on you the others know you’re off limits. He yearns to learn more of you, to hear of your history as he strips your clothes off one article at a time under the dim lights of his office. He must be patient though. You are like a deer, scared in the spotlight and he must not spook you, he stands still until you come to him. For now he stares.

[virtualvault]

Full Body Workout

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

Summary: You challenge Miguel to a sparring match.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+ ONLY, teasing, begging, oral (m/f receiving), unprotected p in v, wrestling/ grappling for control, too many positions to list lol, mirror sex, dirty talk, creampie

WC: 3.4k

A/N: This prompt won the poll that I put out AGES ago. Sorry it took so long, personal life and work life have been getting in the way and my mental health tanked so I didn’t have it in me to write anything. But, I’m back and feeling inspired again so I was able to finish this. Also, let me know your honest opinion on the positions I wrote reader and Miguel in because holy shit that was harder than I thought it was going to be. I wanted to really capture the feeling that they were wrestling around on the floor, but didn't want to make it too confusing. Please let me know if it made any sense lol. It was a challenge, but fun to write so I hope you enjoy and as always, feedback is encouraged and appreciated!!

Miguel is excited that you agreed to join him for his mid-morning workout. But excitement quickly turns to regret as you begin stretching on the mat in front of him. “This was a mistake," he mutters, and you look back and give him a questioning look.

 “How am I supposed to focus when you’re doing that?” He gestures to your ass on full display, sticking straight up in the air.

 You smile cheekily. "Well, if you don't want to watch me stretch, why don't you help me instead?" You teasingly wiggle your hips to entice him. It works, and he comes over to kneel on the floor behind you. Little do you know, he's planning to do a little teasing of his own as payback for distracting him. 

 He runs his hands up the backs of your thighs and gives your ass a light squeeze before maneuvering you onto your back. He raises one of your legs up and throws it over his shoulder, then leans over you. The tension in your hamstring causes a familiar burn and a thrill runs through you. When he switches legs, you feel his hardening bulge rub up against you and a soft moan slips from your lips. You try to move your hips against him, but before you can he places a quick kiss to your forehead and sits upright.

 "Alright, I think you've been thoroughly stretched out, now let's get to it." He shoots you a wink as he stands. You had been hoping he'd let his dick do all the thinking and forfeit his original plans for an entirely different, and way more desirable, form of workout. But he seems determined to stick to his normal routine, much to your disappointment.

 You get up, begrudgingly, to begin your own workout. It's leg day and you decide to start with some lunges. You intentionally face him, not wanting to miss the show. You love watching him workout. His sheer strength never fails to amaze you. Not only that, but he always does everything with such finesse and ease,, and you usually end up just bailing on your workout to watch him, your mouth watering and eyes glued to his body.

 It's not only his movements that are entrancing, but the sounds. My god, the sounds he makes. All the heavy breathing and grunting causes a wet heat to flare between your legs. If you close your eyes, you can picture him above you, fucking you with the same power and agility he's showcasing right now.

 He's in a pushup position, doing reps with a weight bigger than your head. Every time he pulls it up to his chest, he lets out a jagged exhale through his nose and you wish desperately you were feeling it on your neck while he pounds into you from behind.

 You find yourself completely mesmerized by the sounds he's making, the furrow in his brow, and the sweat glistening on his skin. It's a delicious sight and you realize you've completely stopped moving and are simply standing there, staring at him.

 He takes notice as he moves the weight to the other hand and catches a glimpse of you out of the corner of his eye. You quickly look away but judging by the smirk on his face you know he caught you. He's too distracting, so you decide to finish the rest of your workout on the elliptical, just waiting for him to be done and hoping he'll take you back to the apartment and relieve you of the ache he's created between your legs.

 As you set your pace on the machine, you curse yourself for not bringing headphones. You can only just barely see him out of the corner of your eye, but you hear him as he's laid out doing bench presses. The grunting is going straight to your core and you feel a warmth starting to form in your belly. Now alight with burning need, you step off and go to stand in front of him. If he's not willing to postpone his workout to fuck you silly like you want, then you think you've got the perfect compromise.

 You walk over and stand in front of him, hands on your hips. “Let’s spar."

 "What?” he asks, finishing the set and then sitting up.

 "You heard me. I wanna spar. C'mon. Or are you scared I'm going to kick your ass?" You goad, knowing full well he could squash you like a bug if he actually tried.

 He smiles at you, amused by your trash talk, but hesitates. "I don't know if that's such a good idea…" It seems like he wants doesn't want to risk the chance of hurting you, which you both know he wouldn't let happen, but he's really just trying to fight the urge to fuck you. He's been struggling since he saw you saunter out in your tight workout clothes this morning. If you were to spar, he knows being that close to you would make him lose what little control he's clinging to.

 "C’mon, I just want to give it a try. I promise, I'll go easy on you," you joke.

“Okay," he chuckles, "but nothing too crazy. Just some basic grappling stuff." He rises off the bench, and lets his eyes roam your body. He curses himself for it as he feels himself growing hard. His eyes stay glued to your ass as he follows you to the mat in the middle of the room.

 He verbally walks you through a few maneuvers and you pick one to try. He gets into position behind you and holds you up against him, and you're supposed to duck out of his grasp. You attempt the move, and fail, so he pulls you back into him to try it again. You get into position, gripping his arm, and wait for him to give you the go ahead. He leans down to speak softly into your ear. "Good, just like that. Now try it again, but just a little faster."

 His words send a tingle across your skin and your grip on him loosens. With your guard effectively down, he spins you around and sweeps your feet out from under you. You let out a squeak and feel brace yourself, but he grabs you before you hit the mat and lowers you to the ground. You notice he now has you completely trapped under him. He holds your arms to your sides and uses his leg to pin one of your own down. He leaves one leg free, and you plant it on the ground, attempting to push yourself out of his hold, but it's useless. You let out a frustrated sigh.

 "Ready to give up?" he taunts, eyes gleaming with mischief.

 "It's not fair. I'm at a disadvantage," you whine, still attempting to free yourself from his grasp.

 "And why is that?" he questions. There are a million reasons you're at a disadvantage going up against him, but your answer is not one he is expecting.

 "My pants," you state plainly.

 "Your…pants,” he echoes, amused, but waiting for clarification.

 "They’re too restrictive. I don't have full range of motion." You wriggle under him and his eyes fall to your shorts. He admires the way the taught fabric hugs your thighs.

 “Hmm. Well, we wouldn't want this to be an unfair fight, would we?” He leans back and grabs the top of your pants and frees you from their confines. He sits back on his haunches and tosses the clothing side. Then, with as much force as you can muster up, you use your feet to push against his hips, effectively knocking him off balance. He topples over and his back hits the mat with a light thud. He's quite impressed, but before he can sit up and praise you, you crawl over to him and straddle his hips.

 "Nice move," he comments, and looks down to see you resting on his bulge and he can feel the wet heat of your core through his shorts. "Thanks. I learned from the best, " you say with a wink and begin grinding on him, causing the fabric to drag along your folds. You quicken the motion as you feel him twitch beneath you.

 After a few moments, you turn the other way and attempt to rid him of his shorts, giving him a glimpse of your bare ass in the process. The second you finish taking them off, he's pulling you back to hover over his face. You steady yourself and go to scold him for taking back control, but before you can say anything he pulls you down onto his face. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you gasp as he begins exploring you thoroughly with his tongue. You shiver at the warmth of his mouth against you.

 When your eyes finally flutter open, you catch a glimpse of his tip dripping with anticipation, begging to be touched. You lean down, grip his thighs, and begin gliding your tongue over his length. He grunts and you feel the sound reverberate over your clit.

 You want to feel it again, so you take him into your mouth and start sucking his head. He bucks his hips, pushing himself to the back of your throat. He lets out a long groan this time and you pull him in deeper. You gag a little and he grips your thighs tight as your throat constricts around him. You feel his heavy breathing grazing your skin as he laps you up feverishly.

 With your own pleasure building rapidly, you pull your mouth off of him and begin stroking him while letting out a steady stream of moans. You can tell you're getting close. Miguel can too, so he sloppily sucks at your clit, then rolls it gently between his teeth. This proves to be too much for you, and you grip him at the base as your orgasm washes over you. As the pleasure rolls through your body, you clench around nothing and realize how empty you feel without him inside you. He nips at your thighs as you come down and you give him a few sloppy strokes before sitting up, desperate to feel him fill you up.

 You start to crawl down his body, but he quickly pulls you backwards. You land with your back to him, and he secures you in place with his arm across your chest. He spreads your legs, holding them open with his own, and uses his free hand to begin rubbing himself against you.

 "I wanted to ride you," you pout, and angle your hips so that his tip catches on your clit as he slides back and forth against you.

 "By all means, go ahead and try." You attempt to wiggle free but it's futile. "Guess we're doing it my way," He enters you slowly, gliding in with no resistance. You both let out a low moan.

 "You take me so well," he praises. You sigh as he bottoms. He places kisses all up your neck while giving you a few seconds to adjust. His free hand settles on your hip, and you expect him to start thrusting into you, but he surprises you when he flips the both of you over.

 He cages you in against the floor and grinds into you, slowly but deeply. He has you whimpering into the mat, needing him to go faster. But you know he loves to torture you like this, intentionally setting a pace that has you writhing and begging for more, while keeping your climax just out of reach.  You crane your neck to try and get a good look at him, but he has his face buried in your neck. You tug on his hair to get his attention.

 "Let me see you," you whine.  When he lifts his head, he's enthralled by the sight of you, lips bitten and eyes wide. He crashes his mouth into yours and glides his tongue over yours, hungrily, before pulling away and flipping you over. He grabs one wrist in each hand and anchors them to the floor above your head.

 Desire flares in you as his eyes meet yours, staring back at you with such fervent need. He brings his face closer, and your noses brush as he stares deep into your eyes. Then without warning he's back inside you and begins fucking you with much more momentum than before. You wrap your legs around his hips and the new angle has his length reaching so deep you swear you can feel it in your stomach.

 "Oh fuck, just like that," you say, breathily. Your ankles dig into his lower back, pulling him even deeper, causing his tip to find the exact spot that sends jolts of pleasure straight to your core. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as he stretches you. His grip on your wrists loosens and his eyes fall shut as he gets caught up the feeling of your silky walls hugging him. As you contract around him again and again, he drops his head.

 You now have a good view of his exposed neck and can see the sweat glistening on his skin. Your mouth starts to water at the sight, and you place a few sloppy kisses up the slope of his neck before dragging your tongue along the skin to get a taste. You feel his hips falter and he relaxes his grip on you. You take this moment of weakness to muster up as much strength as you can and roll him over until you're straddling him.

 He grunts as his head comes to rest on the floor. He moves his hands to your hips to attempt to regain control, but you grab them and put them above his head, mirroring the position he had you in just moments ago. "Who knew a few kisses to the neck is all it takes to overpower you," you tease. You begin to grind on him nice and slow, your walls dragging along his length. He moans and his lips buck under you.

 "Come on. Please," he implores, voice dripping with want.

 "Lucky for you, it's leg day." You plant your feet on the floor and begin to ride him in earnest, and his breath quickens. As you bounce faster and faster, he squirms underneath you, so much so that his wrists come free from your grasp. You place your hands on his chest to hold him down that way instead.

 Your palms travel the broad expanse of his chest and find it increasingly harder to stay steady as the pressure inside you builds. He senses you're struggling a bit, so he grabs your hips to help guide you up and down on his cock.

 Soon your whole body is thrumming with pleasure and, no longer able to hold yourself up, you collapse on his chest. Not wanting you to lose your momentum, he quickly begins thrusting up into you. He wraps his arms around you to pull you down onto him. Within seconds he has you crying out as you tumble over the edge. You bury your face in his chest and plant light kisses across his soft skin as you ride out your high. He fucks you through it, but you're so wet he eventually slips right out of you.

 You're still buzzing from you last orgasm, but he is desperate to feel your warmth again. He rolls you over into your side, then spots the mirror that panels the wall. He sits up and pulls you into his arms with your back pressed to his chest. He holds you tight to him, arm across your chest like a seat belt and the other across your waist.

 He gets up onto his knees and his eyes meet yours in the mirror. Anticipation pulses through you as his arm momentarily leaves your waist to line himself up with your entrance. Raw with need, he slides in and returns his arm to your waist and begins pulling you down onto him in tandem with his thrusts. If it weren't for his tight grip on you, you would have toppled over.

 Your breathing comes out in short, sharp pants and you look up to see the two of you in the mirror. His body is completely engulfing yours.  Not only are his arms around you, but your thighs are enclosed by his and they're pressing yours together. It makes you feel even tighter and Miguel grunts into your neck, and he can feel himself creeping closer to his own release.

 He lifts his head to kiss up the side of your face, then meets your gaze. It'd be apparent to anyone who could see the two of you like this that he has the upper hand. You can barely move except to angle your hips to take every forceful thrust. But you both know you have just as much control over him and his pleasure as he does you. It's evident in the way he squeezes his eyes shut and his hips stutter every time you walls grip him tight, and the way he has to do everything in his power not to cum as he hears those heavenly noises pouring from your mouth.

 He has to keep himself from cumming, determined to pull one more from you before he finally gives in. Your eyes flutter shut, and you attempt to reach up to run your fingers through his hair, your other hand hanging onto his forearm. Your nails dig into his skin, and he lets out a soft growl at the delicious burn.

 He dips his head down to nip at your ear. "Touch yourself," he commands, and you go to look at him over your shoulder, but he grabs your chin to angle your face to meet his in the mirror.

 "C'mon. I want you to see how fucking good you look when you touch with yourself.  I know your clit must be throbbing, don't you think it deserves a little attention?" The grovel in his voice and his measured thrusts have your mind a little hazy, so you don't move right away. Before your hand can catch up with your brain, he grabs your wrist and shoves it between your thighs for you. He stills his hips and pulls your legs apart so he can get a good look at your spread folds in the mirror.

 "Mmm. It's so swollen, just begging to be played with. Go on, play with that pretty pussy."  He gently glides your hand over your exposed nub, then pulls away you start moving on your own. "Look at you, getting yourself off while I'm inside you. Dirty little thing.”

 You do your best to nod in response. "You make me feel so full," you moan out as you swipe back and forth over your clit.

 He involuntarily bucks his hips, pushing himself deeper into you. He curses under his breath, and you lay your head back and look up at him. “You gonna fuck me?” You question while simultaneously rolling your hips, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

 “Or am I going to have to finish the job myself?” You feign a pout, and he leans down, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth.

 Your words spur him on, and he starts moving again. He's giving you slow, hard thrusts and you squeak as each one hits deeper and deeper. He notices your hand speed up and he fucks you faster to match the pace. The feeling of him filling you up, the soft squelch each time he bottoms out and his ragged breathing grazing your skin is all you can focus on, and he sees your wrist go limp. He's quick to replace your hand with his own. His fingers swirl in fast, tight circles around your clit and you let out what sounds like a sob.

 The sensation is too much, and you go rigid in his arms, white hot pleasure shooting across your body. He sees your eyes roll back as you gush around him, and whispers sweet nothings into your ear. You don't even register what he's saying and eventually go limp in his arms. He can still feel you fluttering around him, and he lets out a deep, guttural moan and releases inside you.

 He gently sets you down onto the mat and collapses beside you, thoroughly drained. As you're attempting to catch your breath, he pulls you up into his side and you rest your head onto his chest.

 "If I knew working out could be this fun, I'd come with you every day," you jest, although you'd be more than willing to add this to your routine.

 “So, same time tomorrow then?” He asks with a smile.

[partycatty]

Hello!

I read your last story with the Lin Kuei brothers and it was really amazing. Could I please ask for a story with the Lin Kuei brothers (I love them❤) where they watch their s/o's dance performance at Madam Bo's? Kind regards!

GOD. YES. and thank you pookie :D

lin kuei trio > dancer

bi-han, kuai liang, and tomas vrbada watching the reader dance at madam bo's!!

notes: KUAI FAVORITISM AGAIN IM SO SORRY. this is a sweet change from the heinous shit i've been writing eeeeee kicking my feet and twirling my hair! also i know that says s/o but i had some ideas i just couldn't ignore..

masterlist <3

♡

bi-han >

• somehow, the lin kuei brothers are convinced by the earthrealm chosen ones to attend a dinner at madam bo's after their victory at armageddon. come on, just once! bi-han only attends because his brothers do, and because liu kang might show offense if he declined. so, here he was, pretending he wasn't enjoying the food as much as he was.

• as his mouth hung open to take a bite of a dumpling, kung lao and johnny find a couple of spare instruments and get that "you thinkin' what i'm thinkin'?" smirk. nobody in their sane mind thought either one of them were musically enclined, but then suddenly there was a two-man band singing and galloping about. you, as one of the earthrealmers, start laughing and clap to the beat, as does the entire group. kenshi, liu kang, kuai liang, and raiden chuckle, syzoth, tomas and ashrah get up to dance, and bi-han puts his chopsticks down with crossed arms and a frown.

• he couldn't help but be mildly amused at the ridiculousness, scoffing to himself. but his scowled expression turns soft when he glances over at you and watches you lift yourself from the chair you sat on and shimmied over to the dancing group, starting to enjoy yourself. you moved in such a coordinated way that bi-han was only accustomed to seeing in combat. he didn't think such elegance could be used... for fun.

• the entire group is mostly ignoring bi-han, but not intentionally. everyone's just caught up in their own enjoyment. you playfully dance to the impromptu rhythm, twirling ashrah and bumping shoulders with kung lao. as you twirl, you lock eyes with the cryomancer and he tenses up when he realizes he'd been staring.

• "come on, blueberry ice!" you shout over the crowd and music, extending an arm. "you're too damn rigid all the time. loosen up with me?"

• "no," he replies, accidentally far colder than necessary. you groan.

• "it's one night! i'll tell johnny not to record. you work too hard. shang tsung is in prison, and our timeline's intact. that doesn't deserve at least a little shimmy?"

• "i don't dance," bi-han again replies, leaning back in his chair. he wouldn't admit it, but he finds your persistence cute. perhaps he won't give in just to see you keep trying.

• you try to do anything possible to get him to join you without actually pissing him off. the lasso trick doesn't work, and neither does the "pass on the wave" trick. you give up, throwing your hands in the air in a surrendering pose before walking backwards back into the group.

• the dancing and celebrating goes well into the night, and the entire time, his icy ass is PLANTED in that damn chair. he eventually becomes a part of the furniture.

• kuai liang leans over to speak to his brother with a grin.

• "you aren't going to dance with her, brother?" kuai liang asks, cheeks tinted with pink from the alcohol. "i understand our clan has much work to tend to, but must you have turned her down on a night like this?"

• "i am not dipping so low as to act a fool," bi-han replies, eyes fixated on your dancing still. you're now dancing with johnny in a ridiculous duo choreography you're pulling from your ass as you go.

• "bi-han, you are as dull as you are sharp," kuai liang laughs. "she was showing interest."

• bi-han launches his glance to his pyromancer brother, eyebrows shooting up. he doesn't seem to believe it, but then it clicks. you wanted to dance with him! YOU wanted to dance with HIM! it wasn't just a kind offer, dammit, it was flirting!!

• you let out a loud laugh above the crowd as you enjoy the festivities. as you calm down, you once again lock eyes with the grandmaster. it feels like only you two know of this secret tension. you extend your arm with a raised brow and flushed grin.

• perhaps one night of foolishness won't hurt.

♡

kuai liang >

• a quiet night in the shirai ryu was unheard of, considering it's still trying to pick itself up. kuai liang was always so damn stressed with work, training hanzo and finding more recruits while also upgrading the compound.

• you were one of the first recruits, so you held a sense of seniority within the clan. kuai liang often confided in you regarding these aforementioned stressors. you were his favorite rubber duck to rant to while he tried to figure things out.

• his head was buried in his hands as he sighed deeply, books and papers strewn across his workspace. you frowned, standing in the doorway.

• "how about a night away from the clan, grandmaster?" you'd politely suggest. you didn't actually expect for him to agree so easily... or know a place... or invite you.

• madam bo greets kuai liang with a sweet smile, offering up whatever she cooked for the night. he insists that anything she makes is perfect, and requests one of everything.

• you sit across the table from your grandmaster, not really sure on what to talk about. it was always work, training, and hatred for bi-han. but now you had to talk about... everything else? even so, his tense shoulders easily surpass your own nerves.

• "at ease, grandmaster," you gently say, reaching across to put a hand on his arm. he visually does ease, comforted by your touch. "enjoy yourself."

• hold on sorry i'm tweakin rn he is so fucking fine i need to chew on his man bun

• "i appreciate you more than you'll know," he replies gently with a smile. "i needed this, i suppose. to be away from a table that isn't cluttered. to eat a nice meal..."

• the plates are cleared as you two chat peacefully about anything and everything. as it turns out, you actually had a great deal in common with your grandmaster. and damn, in the restaurant's dim lighting, his features really stood out..

• as the thought crosses your mind, a small band of fengjian musicians step up to the center of the room and start to play a slow, sweet song. kuai liang swivels in his chair to view the band before turning toward you.

• "do you dance?" he asks suddenly, a little smirk playing at his lips.

• "d-do i...?" you stammer out, almost choking on your tea.

• "dance," kuai liang repeats. "do you?"

• "i-i was a dancer when i was younger. on occasion. yes."

• suddenly, kuai liang stands up and holds his hand out to you. your jaw drops.

• "i shouldn't," you insist shyly. "you're..."

• "i'm your grandmaster," he finishes your sentence. damn, this guy does that often. "yes, yes, i know. but you said tonight is to enjoy ourselves. tonight, i'm not your grandmaster. i'm kuai liang, and i'm asking for a dance."

• he eventually pulls you into a small crowd of other dancers, and you two start with shy steps, eventually understanding each other's style and speed. you wouldn't believe it, but he's actually a good dancer! he follows your every move and allows you to lead. if he focused even a little bit more on you, he'd surely lose his footing. you were just so natural with your movements. there was an attraction there that wasn't there before, and it made kuai liang feel impossibly hotter.

• a small crowd gathers at your coordinated dance. anyone would've assumed it was choreographed ahead of time, but this was entirely you two having a deep understanding of each other's movements. the music felt like a fuzzy white noise and the people disappeared. it was just you and kuai liang.

• the songs ends with you in a dip. you're both catching your breath, flushed, and giggly at the spontaneity.

• "i need nights out more often, if they're with you," he'll mumble to you still in his dip.

♡

tomas >

• tomas only had one objective that day: to determine if kung lao and raiden were ready for to be recruited. what he didn't anticipate, however, was that tonight was the night you were meant to perform at madam bo's.

• a tiny stage sat in the center of the room, and you stepped atop the platform. a couple of men to the side played their instruments for you, and you instantly got to work. as your hips swayed, your flowy garments swung around you, like a perfect gust of wind twirling you.

• tomas stood on the roof alongside his brothers, ogling at the sight. his jaw dropped behind his mask, and his eyes softened. he was supposed to be the big strong leader of the staged confrontation, but god. it was just so hard to be stone cold in front of such a beauty.

• the entire room was so focused on your dance moves. tomas could only mentally equate you to a gorgeous swirl of smoke. or perhaps a cloud—?

• bi-han elbows him in the side with a scowl.

• "focus, you idiot. the farmers, not some foolish performer. do you see them?"

• tomas is that meme where the guy goes "SHE IS VERY GORGEOUS TO ME!!! ☝️"

• tomas shakes his head with a light blush, partially shocked with himself for being so distracted by just one person. he's a ninja. he's killed, defended earthrealm, seen so much shit, and yet he's winded by a dancer. he just had to know more, had to see if you were as alluring up close as you were from afar.

• the men drop from their position and wait outside of the entrance for a moment, mentally preparing themselves. once they are, tomas enters first and stands in front of kung lao and raiden menacingly.

• just as planned, him and madam bo go at it with a fake argument ending in a fight. madam bo gets flung over the railing, mere feet away from where you froze on your little stage. tomas stops completely, forgetting that the two farmers were charging at him. he glances over at you, and how your movement stopped and was now terrified. you scream and take cover behind the bar, peering over to watch the fight.

• he was so trapped in his adoration for you that he forgets to fight back when raiden lands a damn hard punch to his chest, sending him backward. groaning and standing up, he chucks a smoke bomb at the ground and vanishes completely.

• then, before you could process anything, a puff of smoke shrouds your vision and tomas is beside you. you yelp out and crawl backward, terrified by his strength and sudden appearance. making sure bi-han and kuai liang are adequately occupied, tomas leans down to you.

• "hey, hey," he'll say cautiously with his hands out. "shh. you're alright. you're in no danger." your breathing slows from the hyperventilation, looking up at him with innocent eyes. he almost melts then and there. if he could turn into a comical puff of smoke, he would.

• a lin kuei ninja crashes down the railing and lands on top of the bar. you flinch, tomas doesn't.

• "what do you want? money?" you reply in a weak voice, still uneased and confused. tomas frowns, coming up with an answer. he doesn't blame you for being confused when three colorful ninjas and their little sidekicks saunter into a small village restaurant.

• "no, no money," he replies quietly, now crouching down to your level. "everything will make sense in time. now... now please—" tomas gestures toward a nearby exit. "be safe. i apologize for frightening you."

• he extends a hand out, and you take it. for a moment, it feels like it's only you two in the room. no "dead" madam bo, no raiden kicking the shit out of scorpion, or kung lao flinging his hat at sub-zero. it's just you and this mysterious, muscly man in grey.

• "your dancing was... beautiful, by the way," he'll admit sheepishly, his eyes showing his smile behind the mask. "i hope to return to watch it, sometime."

[angelofsmalldeaath]

Could you write anything about Andrew in his blue jeans. They got my going feral, absolutely loosing my shit

a/n: the blue jeans aren't heavily mentioned but i think they still do play an important part

cw: andrew having a dire desperate crush, very slightly suggestive

it’s thirty minutes until he’s supposed to be on stage. 

he’s in a city he’s played in multiple times, he knows the setlist from back to front, and he’s already thinking about what twists he can put on the songs tonight. the backstage is pretty crowded and bustling; his drummer sits on a chair, idly drumming away to whatever’s playing in his ears at the moment. his bassist has a laugh, chatting with some of the backing singers, a cigarette in one hand.  

he sits and watches. 

he knows she’s far too busy running around from one person to the next, making sure everything is perfect and ready to go. her staff lanyard swishes back and forth every time she dashes past him, and his heart squeezes every time she throws a casual smile at someone else.

“you’re running around like a headless chicken,” he calls out as soon as she’s within earshot. 

she staggers to a stop, looks at him with a raised eyebrow, “yeah, well,” she shrugs, “i have a million last-minute things to look at.”

he knows it’s literally her job, but in this moment, all he wants is for her to sit next to him (better yet, for her to sit in his lap) and just talk to him. about anything and everything. but then a small smile blooms on her face and his heart skips a beat. 

“your pins are all wonky,” she laughs a little and gestures for him to stand up.

it’s become a bit of a habit for him now, wearing the pins crooked by just the slightest. it happened a few months ago on accident when he was rushing, but then he saw how it irked her and how she was dying to fix it. how close they both stood while her fingers worked deftly at aligning them.  

and so now he does it on purpose, wears them just crooked enough to irk her so she would come over and fix them for him. but he has to be careful enough not to do it every time. and on days he wears them perfectly, he constantly dreams about what it would be like to have her hands still brushing against his chest.

“blue jeans today?” she quirks an eyebrow, looking him up and down.

“oh, you know all about my fashion choices, do you?” he teases, trying to compensate for how breathless he feels. a faint scent of jasmine washes over him—her shampoo or her body lotion, he doesn’t know—but his mind has started associating the scent with her and her alone. 

“no…” she trails off, looking at him a little sternly, and he worries a bit that he’s teased at the wrong time.

she was clearly running around, busy with other things backstage and now he’s sprung an additional task on her. he’s worried that he’s come across as a petulant rockstar who needs assistance for as simple a task as this. 

“they look nice on you. better than the black,” she bites her lip to stop herself from smiling and his brain short circuits. 

for one, she’s just teased back, even if it was barely anything. and now all he can think about is biting her lip while holding her in his arms. 

the height difference between them means that every time she looks up at him, it’s through her eyelashes. his lips part slightly, like he can’t get enough air into his lungs. and he can’t; he can’t just go around burying his face in her hair and inhaling deeply. so he has to collect little bits and pieces of her whenever he can and store them like stolen candy. 

“there,” she says once she’s done and gives him a little pat on his chest, “now you look all handsome again.”

him. handsome. she thinks he looks handsome. he’s sure he has the stupidest, silliest grin on his face.

“oh god, don’t smile at me like that,” she blurts out. it’s rushed, almost a whisper, almost like it wasn’t supposed to be said out loud, but her eyes widen. and she looks away in an instant.

“why?” he feigns arrogance, seamlessly slipping into the confident artist his fans meet, “does my devastatingly handsome smile make you go crazy?”

she rolls her eyes but doesn't take a step back. she doesn't even move her hands from his chest. which is a bit of a problem because his heart is racing. 

“you okay?” she asks and he watches her brows furrow in concern. 

shit. shit. shit. he has to think on his feet, and the only thing he can’t do right now is focus! 

“just nervous about the show?”

it comes out more like a question, and he wants to kick himself for telling such an obvious lie. she knows he has played here like four times before. she knows he has everything rehearsed and ready to go, and whatever amount of nerves he might feel, they’re nowhere near enough to make his chest pound like this. 

she gives him a sceptical look and opens her mouth, about to say something, but someone calls her name. both their gazes snap to see another person on the staff, clipboard in hand, feet tapping impatiently. he feels an instant annoyance because how dare they look at her with anything other than adoration, but then his gaze snaps back to her. 

“i gotta go,” she gives him a small smile. “but good luck out there, you’ll be fantastic.”

he nods absently, like a pathetic idiot. 

“and,” she grins “wear that blue jeans more, will you? it really does look gorgeous on you.” before he knows what’s happening, she stands on her toes and presses a tiny kiss on his cheek. and just like that, she’s gone, running around the set once again. 

in a daze, his fingers come up to lightly touch his cheek. multiple neurons in his body are misfiring, and he feels a bit like he’s about to fall off a cliff. 

he wonders if he should follow her and kiss her hard enough that he will taste her for days. he wonders if she tastes like the cherry lip gloss she uses. then he worries that she’s just a friendly, affectionate person. and finally, he burns with envy that someone out there might be getting a real, proper good-luck kiss from her. 

“alright, mate?” his bassist appears, finally back from a cigarette break, and he has to stop himself from unloading everything on him. 

it’s ten minutes until he’s supposed to be on stage.

and now all he can think about is his blue jeans on her bedroom floor and cherry-flavoured lips. 

[sinsofnivan]

More rough sex with Krauser pls👀 , he just wants to train and discipline the reader who is a rebellious rookie :(( hhh I luv ur writing

chokeholds are illegal! — JACK KRAUSER x YOU.

SUMMARY: “where were you? i thought i had made it clear that i wanted specialists with an H2H* evaluation score below 65 to come spar at 1600. it’s 1830, L/N.”  "huh?" your brows narrow. "my teammates said the passing score was 60, and i got a 64." your hands rest on your hips, your glare practically piercing holes through his eyes. "you don't report to them, do you? are they the ones who give you orders, rookie? huh? this is negligence and insubordination on your part." you rolled your eyes, and krauser scoffed. "stop fucking rolling your eyes. get in the ring." krauser raised the ropes as he slid into the training ring, and you were staring at him in disbelief.  "you're due for a sparring session. but since your teammates, the people you're supposed to spar with, already left, you're paired with me.

PAIRING: JACK KRAUSER/you.

TAGS: blah blah blah brat tamer krauser place name backstory stuff, female reader, sparring, pronebone, mean sex, degradation, nasty sex, sort of masochist reader, sort of sadist krauser, edging, save me brat tamer krauser save me, krauser has a big dick, size difference, SLIGHT knifeplay, choking, SIR KINK, power gap/imbalance, dubious consent, cervix fucking, mind break, inappropriate workplace relationships, humiliation, overstimulation, instant loss?, slight dacryphilia, GUYS DON'T SLEEP WITH YOUR SUPERIORS, sort of dubcon because of said power imbalance but reader likes being put in her place anyways

WORD COUNT: 3908

A/N: i love krauser sm. RAHH. the gif divider is not mine! credits to kdanie!

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

"c'mon, L/N. already panting? i'm not even sweating yet." 

you scowled, clenching your fists. it has been a long 10 minutes of taking blows and returning jabs and hooks, and your shoulders are aching from how he practically slammed you on to the ground earlier. sure, it was a little cushioned, but god, he was fighting you like he hated your guts. you wouldn't be able to physically overpower this 6"3 hunk of muscle, because judging from the size of his biceps alone, he benched twice your body weight for fucking breakfast. 

so relying on your speed it was. you saw many opportunities to strike after dodging his kicks and punches: an elbow to his ribs, a knee to his face, and even sweeping him off of his feet. but that was 5 minutes ago, and this fucker's absolutely terrifying—because he was beginning to get used to it. and he was right. there was no droplet of sweat beading on his temples. 

"you're fast, L/N." taunted the major, and you wanted nothing more than to punch the shit-eating grin off his face. "but not invincible," the sight of him lunging at you was terrifying, and you dodged—tried to dodge—but he cornered you in whichever direction you chose to step in. "going somewhere?" krauser grinned, just before he throws a right hook. you barely avoided it, the rush of air from his fist brushing past your cheek. you grunt in exertion, quickly punishing him by a hook to his jaw. it hits squarely, making his head snap to the side. but krauser remained unphased. 

krauser's hand quickly wrapped around your wrist, his vice bruising and unforgiving. he pulls you forward with a vicious yank, his knee driving into your stomach—once, twice—each strike forcing a groan from your lips as the air was driven out of you. you jabbed your fingers into his sides, his ribs, god, anywhere just to hurt him. but fuck, this man was made of steel. you might as well be punching concrete. "are you tapping out?" he asks arrogantly, and you groaned, trying to break free from his hold. "i'm not," you groaned.

the mocking laugh from him makes you mad. so, so fucking mad. 

he pushes him off of you, watching you stumble and attempting to catch your breath as you used the ropes for support. krauser's footsteps from behind you are menacing, and you're just convinced that he's gonna fucking kill you for all the trouble you've caused him. but, fuck, you'd rather die than tap out. right before you could stabilize yourself, a hand reaches out to grab your shoulder, and into his hold.

specifically, your head, into a chokehold;

his bicep crushing your throat as he pinned you against his chest. it was tight enough to limit your breathing, but not enough to suffocate you. he wanted you to tap out, to actually surrender to him—and you knew it was what you were supposed to do, as you could easily feel how lightheaded you were getting. but you didn't want to. your pride wouldn't let you. "i'm waiting, Y/N," krauser cackled, and your response was a pained grunt.

you tried to shove an elbow into his stomach, to try and get him off of you, but it was futile. krauser growled, clearly pissed that you can't accept your defeat, and you won't fucking stay still. "you think you're faster than me? stronger?" he whispered in your ear, breath fanning over the shell. "little miss untouchable. dodging orders, playing your little fucking games. that ends now." you grit your teeth, trying to think of something to say. 

"are you gonna follow everything i say from now on, rookie?" oh, the things krauser would give just to see that defeated look on your face. it takes you a while, but you begrudgingly stammer out a weak—"yes,"—much to krauser's glee. 

"yes, what?"

"yes, s, sir,"

your vision's getting cloudy, and your nails drag on his forearms for desperation; leaving red, angry lines on his pale skin as you scratched him."chokehold's illegal." you croaked. your protest makes krauser laugh, tightening his grip. "is it, rookie? just when i thought you were being a good girl." he could feel his cock aching in those damn tight pants. 

"i don't fucking care." krauser released you, easily using his strength to make you face him. you were bracing yourself for another punch, but the warmth of his big hands greet your cheeks instead; pulling you to him and letting his lips crash harshly on yours. you don't know what came over you. you hated your stupid fucking superior right now, but fuck—your lips reciprocated that forbidden liplock. 

your arms wrapped around him weakly, and krauser began to feel your body, squeezing your asscheeks through your jogging pants. you bit on his lower lip, hard, and krauser groaned, the taste of copper beginning to register on his taste buds. still bratty, still fucking mischievous, like always. 

the kiss breaks as krauser pushes you off of him, hungrily eyeing your body. "strip." he'd scowl, and so did you. "i'm not going to do that." you heaved, and krauser claimed your lips again. a little angrier this time, whilst his hand bundled up your shirt in fist, and then—

rip!

you gasped, and krauser held your neck with another hand, threatening to squeeze. his kisses trailed from the corner of your mouth to your jaw, then lingered just beneath your ear. "you're so," he growled, biting you hard, making you groan and hold on to his broad shoulders. "so fucking bratty. you drive me insane. i fucking hate you." he could feel your laughter buzz against his lips as his tongue dragged all over the inch of your sweaty skin. your scent, your taste, stirred something feral in him.

"yeah? doesn't look like you fucking hate me," you dipped a hand between your bodise, palming against his bulge. did he have a hard on while he sparred with you? y'can't remember. "shut up. just shut the fuck up," he was expecting to feel up your tits—but was only met with the foam of your sports bra, and krauser disappointedly clicked his tongue. 

"keep still." he glared at you, who was just observing everything he did. reaching behind him, you hear the familiar hiss of his knife being unsheathed from his holster. your breath hitches in your throat, and of course, krauser noticed. he grinned, bringing the sharp, cold end to your cheek. "yeah, you're gonna stay still." he cooed, gently tracing your lips with the dagger. this was the first time he's seen you follow your orders. 

"don't wanna be cut now, do you?" 

he retired the knife from your face, but you're yet to be at ease because he brought the cold blade down to your chest. "don't. fucking. move." he raised your sports bra up, beginning to cut through the fabric. maybe he didn't hate you as much as you thought, because he was really trying to not cut you. you can't say the same for your sports bra, however, as he easily cut the straps that prevented him from yanking that stupid fucking bra off of you. "here's what's going to happen, slut." your nipples rouse under his knife. "starting from now, you're gonna address me as sir." for once, you're rendered speechless. actually cautious about getting on his bad side now, because if he added even the slightest bit of pressure, you knew the blade would break the skin beneath it. "and you're going to be good. you wanna know why?" 

the tip feels crookedly ticklish as he dragged it up to your collarbone, and ultimately your chin; forcing your pretty eyes up on his face. "because i'm so fucking done with your antics. you have exhausted every bit of my patience." and just to make sure that you knew he wasn't playing, he gently pressed the sharp edge to draw the littlest of blood, letting it stain his knife. "are we clear?" you frantically nod. "yes—yes sir," krauser hummed in contentment. 

"atta girl. so strip."

the humiliation seeps through your cheeks and body, tummy twisting in taboo anticipation. i shouldn't be doing this. you thought as you kicked your boots off, tugged those pants down. i shouldn't be doing this. krauser thought as he brought the knife to your pantied cunt and began to gently glide it up and down. you couldn't look his way, too flustered—but you weren't suppressing the soft cries that left your mouth as his knife toyed with your clit. "dirty, dirty girl." krauser chuckled. "you actually like this, huh? i've killed people with this knife, slut. have some shame." the knife slid beneath the seams of your panties, impatiently tearing through the fabric. 

his knife has served its only purpose it seems; because, you hear him tossing it somewhere out of the ring. and in the next minute, he's —

⟢

"fuck!"

it's a big stretch. a biiiiig stretch. it hurt so, so good as krauser's cock cruelly shoved his cock in your pretty cunt; the lubricant being only his spit and your own slick. "tight—you're so fucking tight," he growled. your eyes roll back to the pits of your sockets as he began to pound you. his thrusts were mean and harsh, as if determined to break your pelvis. the cacophony of your sex—flesh slapping against flesh, the lascivious harmony of your voices, and the squelching of your soaking pussy—filled the room, loud and unabashed. krauser's bruising grip is on your waist, trying to ensure that every thrust had the tip poking your cervix.

"is this why you're such'a— hnggg, shit—! such a . . fucking brat?" he smacked your tits, making you yelp. "so you could get hatefucked by me? huh?" a devilish grin tugged on the corners of his lips, followed by an amused laugh. "all y'had to do was ask. c'mon, girl. ask me to fuck you harder." the pleasure has you reeling, has your cunt tightening from being used like a toy by your superior. you couldn’t utter a denial, you couldn’t even utter a single word—and it was just so unfair! 

as much as krauser loved your cries and how you melted under his mercy—it's not enough. he's greedy like that. "i said beg—!" krauser's demand is followed by a smack on your poor, used cunt. he took in every reaction you gave him, the whining from the sting, how you struggled to speak, the cries of his name, everything—he loved it. "p, please," you plead quietly. "please s, sir—need you to . . a-ahn! god—fuck!" he purposefully rams into you hard. it was so satisfying, finally breaking in his brat. you looked so pathetic, drooling, eyes watering as the pleasure made you tear up—and it was better than what krauser fantasized about. "need me to what?" his thumb traced your soft, kiss-bruised lips. "pleasepleaseeeplease, sir! need you t'fuck me deeper and h-harder—!" this is how he wanted you. 

obedient. respectful. fucked out.

he didn't even ask you to go deeper, but he figured he'll grant you your wishes, you were being so good for him, after all; your legs are manoeuvred by scarred dexterity to wrap around his waist, to have him closer, deeper. his thrusts begin again. it's rough, feral, but the sting's been long gone, replaced by overwhelming pleasure that only krauser could give you. 

oh, that fucking look on your face, god. brows scrunched up, mouth agape, rosy cheeks, lashes beaded with the tears that's yet to fall–-fuck, you're so "—fucking gorgeous," krauser babbled on, hips never relenting with his vicious pummeling. "big—," you whimpered in your stupefied haze, eyes widening. you could feel his tip kiss your perky cervix with the adjusted position. "yeaaaah, baby. that's— that's all me," krauser laughed, watching you place a shaky hand on where you felt him protruding through your skin. "gonna fucking—ruin you. 'til nothin' gets you off but your sir's cock, y'hear me?" nod, nod. "please, sir!" 

the title seems to have renewed his vigour, because fuck—the pleasure's so toe-curling, so mind-numbing; krauser's burying himself in your neck again, biting, kissing, sucking, branding you as his. he's barely acknowledging the cerise crescents you litter on his built back—does he even realize it? from how he's drooling, probably not.

he can't stop fucking your cunt, hips moving on their own animalistic fervour. he needs to cum, needs to get his little brat all stuffed full 'nd knocked up. the idea of colleagues catching him—and you, of course—didn't even cross his mind anymore. let them hear. let them know, that he was taming you, that you were completely wrapped around his finger. 

he grabbed your hips and practically used you as his personal fucktoy, raising you by your hips like you weighed nothing. your pussy twitched—yearning to cum, and he would have loved to see you fall apart, but—"don't you dare cum without my fucking permission," you scoffed at him, clearly irritated, and a particularly forceful thrust in you quickly corrects your indiscipline. "look at you, you fucking bratty bitch." he cackled cruelly. "givin' me attitude again? remember—," you winced when his fingers sink a little harder, and then– 

SLAP!

"this is—

your fucking

fault—!"

his frustration shows in each hard, mean thrust. it would have sent you to the edge, but he stops in time before it could blossom into something more, leaving you whining and quivering. unfortunately, his thrusts came to a brief halt, forcing you to feel all inches of his dick—every bump, every vein. when you were coming down from your faux high, his pounding resumed, catching you off guard. "cumming—," he growled, and your cunt just clenched around him as you whimpered. poor little thing. your name's what he wails, your face is what he envisioned as his eyes rolled back and intense pleasure washes over him.

it's torture to feel him fill you up, hunger temporarily satiated as he kept bucking his hips, spilling all of his thick, sticky semen into your pretty hole. "Y/N—!" he's so fucking deep—he's literally fucking splitting you open! you whimpered, losing strength in your legs and relying on nothing but his strength to keep your hips up. pulling away, he lets his cock slip from your cunt. he lowered his gaze, and—"fuck," 

your pussy was twitching and gaping, and his chest heaved, panting as he gasped for air. can't take his hungry eyes off of your cunt. fuck—it looked so pretty twitching and leaking his cum . . you were just about to get up, obviously unsatisfied and irate, but—

"on your fours."

"huh?"

"what, huh? i said on your fours."

"you're not done yet?"

"just get on your damn fours!"

you hated that you felt excited. excited that his cock was still twitching atop your cunt, excited that he wanted more of you. so you obliged, rolling over to your tummy the second he loosened his grip on you. you could barely keep your hips and knees up as they shook 'neath you. you could feel krauser's arrogance from the front. god, what a pri—!

smack! 

a startled yelp reverberates around the facility as his hand comes down on your asscheek. it's a mean slap, and you could feel just where his hand was as it stung like hell. 

smack! 

"think i shoulda jus' did this from the beginning," krauser chuckled, amused. very, very amused. "have 'ya sprawled on my lap and fucking spanking this—" smack! "—ass 'til it turned red," smack! then, you feel krauser's thumb on your clit, gathering up all your dripping, sticky arousal on his finger. "wet from being spanked? naughty," he wished you saw how he licked his fingers clean after—and he wished he could just bury his fucking tongue deep into you; but he'll save it for next time, when you're good. positioning himself behind you, you could easily discern the crown of his cock prodding against your pussy—using calloused digits to spread your pretty hole wide.

it's still a tight fit—but it's much, much easier to slide into you with his cum as lube. and he laughed, actually laughed when your knees gave out beneath you as his girth filled you up again. though, he didn't tell you to keep your hips up. instead, he keeps sheathing himself in you as you laid prone. don't worry, he understands. you were just dicked down two minutes ago, after all. 

you familiarly feel his arms wrap around your head, and fuck, krauser growled when he feels your cunt tighten up. "you think i'm done with you, slut? think 'm like those losers you sleep with?" his taunts are accompanied with the obscene plap! plap! plap! of your skins. you'd think for someone who just came, he would be slower, sloppier—but no. quite the opposite, actually.

his bicep was lathered in your drool as your face was squished between the muscle and his forearm. your breaths weren't cut off entirely, but you'd be lying to yourself if you said you got enough air lungful after lungful. "guess what? i'm not. hear me? y'even conscious?" he brought his thrusts down with fierce, punishing slams, and you laid there helplessly, unable to push him off of you, unable to escape his brutal thrusts. "y, yes sir!" 

"goooood fucking slut. i'm gonna ruin you. gonna make sure your pussy's the shape of me," all his possessive rambling is making you whimper, making your pussy twitch around him. his cock throbbed with overstimulation—it hurt, hurt so much. but you made him feel better. made the pain so fucking worth it. "sir k , krauserr—!" you sobbed, holding on to his forearms for dear life. felt like he was gonna fuck the consciousness outta you. 

krauser, who was reserved, strict, disciplined—this was at his rawest. logic forgotten while he feels himself drool from this addicting post-orgasm torture. his mind only seems to properly work when he feels that cunt spasming. "don't cum. fucking keep it in!" he demanded cruelly. how couldn't you—when his cock hit your most sensitive spot again and again. "n , noooo—please . . please, want to cum," you pleaded him. "please—i need to, need to cum—♡!" 

though, he wasn't having it. he can't have you satisfied yet. he was so mean! 

with frantic, sporadic thrusts, he uncontrollably spilled his cum into you again. his whimpers filled the room, continuing to drag his orgasm with brutal slams. it completely leaked from your pussy—he still came lots even after cumming prior. you whined when he slumped over you, his tip pressing against your cervix snugly as he gasped for his breath. he may have freed you from his crushing hold, but fuck—his body resting on yours had the same effect.

and you still haven't cum, still irate and needy amidst your stupefied state. 

"get off—," you whined, trying to wriggle beneath him; you could feel his cock softening up but it was still just as girthy—you curse him and his fat cock. it takes a minute or two for him to get off you, pulling out of your creampied cunt. krauser grinned as you turned over to your back, sweaty 'nd tired from the pounding you just took. you sat up, grunting. "'m g'nna head back," you mumbled with a pout, and krauser stretches an arm out to cradle your cheek. "we're not done yet, baby—," "stop touching me you—!" a thumb ran over your eyes, already wiping off the tears that wanted to fall. "shh, shh. i know, baby," he kissed your cheek, the corner of your mouth, your eyes—before coaxing you on your back again. 

he has you lay on his arm while he rests on his side, spreading your legs again with one hand. "you must be sooo frustrated," he grinned, running his middle and ring finger over your slit. "yes, please," you were jus' so frustrated, so needy—you did everything he asked and he was still mean. . . "gonna cry?" he cooed, before sliding two thick fingers into your dripping cunt.

the stretch isn't the same as his cock, but you don't care. y'just needed him. "beg me again, sweetheart. i promise it'll be the last." he curved his fingers up slow, so agonizingly slow. "please, sir. wanna cum. need to cum, pleaseplease—," "yeah? i got you, baby. you've been so good for me," dear god, does this man ever get tired—? he began to pump his fingers in your pretty cunt, his cum spilling everywhere whenever it would slide out. his thrusts are similar to the pace of his pounding—and your cunt twitched thinkin' about how he fucked you. 

"you're such a stubborn brat, no? don't worry, i'll break those bad habits outta yer head," he leans down to kiss you, capture that sarcastic mouth and muffle all your whines as he picked up his pace. you held on to his wrist, to him—to fucking wherever—kissing him back sloppily as he had you writhing from just his fingers. when you tried to pull away, he would just chase your lips back, it made it so harder to breathe, but you had to kiss him back. you have to kiss your sir back. 

he's kind, but unkind at the same time, not giving your pussy a break, but letting the coil in your stomach tighten. you could feel it. so so close! krauser lets you breathe, a string of spit dripping from your lips. not ounce did his fingers falter—those wet noises, fuck, you're so wet. "you're such'a good girl," he hummed, eyes hypnotized with your creaming pussy.

your eyes widen when he finally doesn't stop fingering you—breath becoming faster and more ragged as your orgasm neared. he flickered his gaze back to you, entertained with your reactions. it was so worth it, saving the best for last. "yeah? uh-huh. you're so pretty. my pretty brat. sir's sorry for making you cry." "fuckfuckfuckfuck—'m cumming. sir, 'm cumming—♡!" your legs shook, and the moment the pads of his fingers graze that spongy nub in your pretty cunt, you're cumming undone. 

you would have screamed if it wasn't for the hand covering your mouth. you whimpered against his palm. "shhh, shhh. baby, i know. i know. it's too much, right?" but his fingers didn't stop, continuing to shove it knuckles-fucking-deep inside you.  "shh, shh. i know. but you asked for this. you wanted to cum, right? right?" krauser chuckled heartlessly, keeping this onslaught on your sensitive cunt. you were twitching so much around his fingers—and he knew you would be his next addiction for . . . god knows how long.

he abruptly pulled his fingers out from you, easing out another squirting orgasm from your poor cunt; using the same fingers, he gently rubbed your puffy clit. you squirmed, hips bucking and legs kicking. your eyes pricked tears, feeling too good, too sensitive. from covering your mouth, he moves to hold your jaw gently—wanting to hear your pretty, broken sobs. 

he feels the familiar tap on his arm. one, two. "aw, tapping out? you're not allowed to tap out." your eyes rolled to the back of your head, wailing when he adds a little more pressure on to rubbing your clit. "sir—sir please—, please. i'll be good, i'll be good—♡, please," you scratched on to his arms, biceps—anywhere you could get your claws on. "please— need a break," 

you? a break? when you're bucking your hips like that?

"hmm . . i don't think so."

end.

A/N: sorry if it's a bit sloppy, i wanted to compensate for taking too long to upload. i'm not very well-informed with military themes so i just kinda word vomited HAHA. but thank you soooo much for reading!! THANK YOU, THANK YOU! H2H* means hand to hand. according to google anyways. 

[prettyoatmeal]

Shouldn't Have Shared (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Following up my previous post LOL. This is also not proof read, I was listing to a documentary and listening to music in the background of writing. I didn't intend for this to be so long, but I kinda got lost in writing this.

GENRE: Smut

Summary: 'CAUTION! Do not share or this man will appear in your room!' is what the post said. Of course, it was just a hoax.. wasn't it? Sharing it to feed into your obsession for this fictional man from a video game, you're woken up to a pleasant surprise.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, creampie, overly possessive Ghost, primal, mentions of claiming and ruining.

Word Count: 1009

NSFW UNDER CUT

Masterlist here!

***************

Rustle... rustle, rustle...

Stirring in your sleep, you could feel something was.. off. You felt the air tensing around you, becoming hyperaware of your breathing and heartbeat as you began to wake up from your slumber. Opening your eyes and rubbing the sleep from them, you turned away from the wall only to see the shadow of a large man staring right down at you. Your life almost flashed before your eyes.

Feeling your heart stop, you let a loud shriek of terror at the unexpected silhouette. Sitting up quickly, you push yourself to the corner of your bed, your body working on autopilot as you pegged one of your stuffed animals at him.

You could see the little stuffy you threw bouncing off from his chest, hearing him chuckling under his breath.

"Gonna take a lot more than a stuffed lamb to take me out."

You'd recognise that voice from anywhere.

Holy shit.

Turning on the lamp of your bedside table, you finally got a look at the mystery man standing at the edge of your bed. Eyes adjusting to the light, your eyes widened at the realisation.

"Easy, love, no need to be frightened. It's just me. You know who I am, don't you?" Taking another step, he bent over and leaned his palms into the plush edge of your bed, allowing you to get a closer look at him.

Hmm, blond eyelashes. Cute. Full gear... hot. You nodded, swallowing. He was so much bigger in person. Over a screen you couldn't properly picture yourself next to him, but now that he was up close, it was jarring.

"Good, of course you do."

Slowly, he crouched down and picked up the soft toy, throwing it back next to you. Hearing his voice in person, you couldn't help but shudder as you stared in awe. He was so close, so close to you. If this was going to end in any of the ways you've fantasised about, it was going to end with-

"Tell me, sweetheart, did my character on a screen do me justice, or am I even more striking in person?" he smirked, his voice lingering with an arrogance which would make you gag if it were any other man.

He was real... and damned cocky too.

You hadn't said any words yet, and he noticed your silence, his head tilting as he was almost kneeling on your bed at this point.

"Answer me, lovie."

"Yes."

"You're good at listening, aren't you?" He continued, his voice low in just the right way to send a shiver down your spine. "Now tell me something else, you've always wanted more than just pixels on a screen. You've played the game, you've fantasised, you've shared."

Fuck.

"Fuckin' cheeky for sharing that knowing I'd come find ya, and now I'm here to give you what your imagination can't. Would you want that, lovie?"

Fuck.

You swallowed, hard. The air charged with a palpable energy. It felt as if the room was closing in on you two, the erotic tension flooding the air around you as you felt yourself becoming warmer. While you felt your fluster, your fantasies in turn were becoming more and more real by the second.

God, you wanted this. You needed this.

"Yes."

___

"Quit squirming, damn it."

Your eyes were rolled back. His hand was over your mouth, muffling your pathetic whines. You couldn't risk waking up the house, could you?

Your body pinned down against your bed, his clothed chest against your back. Slamming into you at an ungodly speed with sloppy noised, it was everything you'd dreamed about.

"I said," he started, pulling your hips up with his free hand with a grasp tight enough to bruise, angling every thrust which made you lose your mind, "quit squirming."

It was hard to not drool over his palm, the unholy echo of skin slapping together made you pray that no one else would wake up to hear it.

"Ghost-" you managed to moan out his callsign, muffled against his palm.

"Fuck, baby. Keep quiet f' me." he almost whimpered, his face getting lost and buried in your neck as he nipped and kissed at the soft skin. "Can't have- mmh - ye' waking the others up, can you?"

You were barely able to shake your head, this goddamn hunk of a man keeping you under his weight as he rearranged your insides.

"Sweet girl, how long have you thought about this? Touchin' yourself to the thought of me, now coming into y' room like this and using you like you've wanted." His voice came out as a growl, right against your hear and giving you goosebumps.

One night stands were never your thing, but you could for sure keep this going with him. With your walls clenching around him, your went blurry with tears as your eyes threatened to flutter closed.

His filthy words wavered, his voice breaking as he became increasingly desperate himself.

"Finally been given a taste and this wet cunt is just sucking me in."

With his cock hitting that spongey spot inside you, you tensed under him as you felt your orgasm approaching rapidly. Only a few more thrusts and with a muffled cry, you were coming undone, gushing around him. The feeling only made him whine more as you clamped down on him so deliciously, his hips slamming against your ass were now on borderline primal.

"I'll give you what you want, y're all mine, fuck."

With a final grunt against your neck, you felt the warmth of his cum filling you to the brim. Though, he was so deep inside you that there was no where for his release to go but seep out of you. His his heavy breaths mixed with growls, he removed his hand from your mouth and helped to flip you over.

Pulling you almost down to the edge of your bed, you were put into a mating press, barely comprehending it in your post-orgasm haze.

"We're not done yet. Sweet girl, I'm going to ruin you."

***************

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO FINISH

I'VE JUST GRADUATED

CHEERS

*************** DISCLAIMER Under no circumstances do I give permission to copy, repost, or manipulate my work in any way. I am not comfortable with this. If you wish to translate my work, message me privately. My inbox is always open.

[frenchkanna1808]

Why Midori is such a breath of fresh air or how to actually write a Villain.

So the awaited essay, the winner of the FrenchGremlin polls of laziness finally has come! It took some time but it’s finally over. If your choice didn’t get chosen that’s okay! I’ll repost a new poll with old and newer options. Please reblog this one i put a lot of time in it, it's like, five pages long over a silly goose. Also sorry for the grammar i sucks and i'm not native. So let’s begin:

(also here is the link to the video format)

So first let’s make things clear, What IS a villain?

“A villain is a character whose evil actions or motives are important to the plot.” That is why I do want to make a difference between a villain and an antagonist, an antagonist is a character who are a plot devices that creates obstruction to the protagonist. That means that a villain is forced to be an antagonist while an antagonist is not forced to be a villain. For example shin is an antagonist but not a villain, he is driven by selfish desires which are themselves fueled by fear anger and loss, he is the protagonist of his own story and is a sympathetic character despite it all, and Midori is just a bitch. Midori falls under multiple stereotypes of villains. Such as “the mastermind”, “evil incarnate” (lmao),”related to the protagonist” etc. Midori is evil, there is no denying in this, he is purely evil, and he doesn’t have a sad weepy backstory, he doesn’t feel empathy towards other, he is a despicable piece of shit who ruined so many lives. I won’t list everything but here is a list of his crimes, murder, assault, domestic abuse, grooming, verbal abuse, and torture, crimes against humanity lmao, stalking, violent crimes, and participation in a cult. And his worst crime is being a pussy bitch of course. So now that we have put the bases up let’s really begin.

Hollywood has a hate boner against villains and I hate them for that.

Recently Hollywood decided that pure evil bad guys is actually a bad thing, so now they decided to do stupid side story with them, to give them ”””depth””” since I guess how could we like those villains since they are bad. A great example of this is the Disney remakes which I loathe so much oh god I hate them. So first they did a maleficient it was okay honestly, then they did a freaking cruella movie where her mom gets killed by Dalmatians, that’s not a joke, in the peter and wendy movie that nobody saw they decided to have made the captain hook be a lost boy who was abandoned by the lost boys and peter, oh also they decided that PETER CUT HIS HANDS OFF AND LEFT HIM TO DIE BECAUSE HOOK WANTED TO SEE HIS FAMILY. They are going to do a freaking mufasa movie, in no time I can’t wait to have a Ursula movie where it’s discovered that ariel killed all of her family in cold blood or something’s. So you might say what’s the problem? I mean isn’t that supposed to make the story more interesting. No, no it doesn’t, because first they take all of the character personality traits and throw them in the bin, second they are supposed to be the vilain in a musical animated movies, I am not against complex villain, I love them, but by doing this, the original character doesn’t exist anymore. Just create original content with new interesting characters instead of doing stuff like this. Also it’s kind of funny than in all of those interpretation they take all the fun and sucks it out, what do I mean by fun, the gayness, Disney vilain are fun because they are camp, they are fabulous extravagant extra in all the ways possible, and that’s the reason we liked them. Not every character needs something super deep, like “my family was burned down at the stake and my dog was eaten by my ex”, sometimes we just like bad fun people, they are the story, and Hollywood hating them so bad just bothers me a lot. Also now the new thing is to not have a villain at all which can works in some narrative but not all of them, it gets boring after a while. In the past people were angry that villains are bland, but now I kind of miss it. While I will critique villains who have no purpose outside of being evil that’s dumb, like for example Voldemort is bland like white bread because his only motivation is being evil, but evil people do exist compared to what some Hollywood writers think, they should know. So that’s why I will put a difference between evil villains and villains whose only purpose is being evil; we loved Disney villains but they still had motivations, goals, reasons that to them a least were worth everything. World domination isn’t enough, why do you want world domination, what is the true reason deep in your heart, is it an inferiority complex, is it a savior complex fuelled by xenophobic beliefs.

That is how to write a pure evil villain, evil people exist all over the world, but I have never seen one who doesn’t have they own reasons to be so bad, it doesn’t excuse their actions nor really explains them. We do not want justifications we want explanations. If you are justifying evil behavior then do it, but don’t claim that it is a pure evil character. A pure evil character can be fun, can be interesting, he can be deep, it’s all about balancing all of their traits to truly make them greats. Which is why midori succeeds while current villains fail. Current stupid remake/spin off try to justify the behavior because they feel like this is what the audience wants, but it’s not what we need. So I will defend to the grave evil villains.

Creating an evil villain doesn’t make them boring guys.

Why the heck does big budget movies have either the blandest protagonist or the blandest villains sometimes both, like I said evil people do exist but comically evil character only works in satire not in a serious multiple millions of dollar movie. Example that boring ass avatar movie, the one with blue people, none of the characters are interesting the villain is one note. The lords of the rings also suffers from that, but I don’t care because the protagonist are so awesome that sauron being personality less doesn’t matter. Also sauron is more of a force of nature villains so it’s not the same. The recent kingsman movie has a bland one note villain, there is nothing entertaining, funny, about him he’s just evil, borrrrring. Every Disney remakes depiction of the characters are boring. I just feel bored out of my mind. Atla one of my favorite shows of all time has a main villain that’s kinda one note, Ozai, but he is actually intimidating guy, azula is the superior character, but I wouldn’t consider her a villain she is an antagonist though. I honestly don’t get why Hollywood thinks that just creating a character with no personality and whose only goals is to be evil is good.

So back to midori for a second, here is my question, when midori was on screen did you ever feel bored? Never right! Because despite midori being an evil character he has an actual personality, he’s fun, you want to punch him in the balls. Because midori has other personality traits than evil, midori is petty, childish, extremely intelligent, controlling, a natural manipulator, he is a trickster, he doesn’t seem to get some social norms, he is narcissistic, easily angry, and fears death etc See how I counted a lot of traits, traits that in other character would works, midori has positive traits, and I think that is the best thing nankidai could have ever done, midori has traits that a regular person could have. Which is why if I put midori in any settings his character would work.

Example, instead of a death game the cast is under the sea to discover the insane wildlife and supernatural stuff happening, what would midori do in this situation? Well he would very passionate about finding all of what’s happening, he’ll do anything to find out, even sometime sacrificing others, not only will he try to find what’s happening, but he is also going to try to find a way to make this discovery favour him in the end. Or let’s imagine it’s a vampire situation, where a vampire attacks  the city, midori would try to stop it, not because he cares, but to experiment on them to get their biology and finds the real secret of immortality since he fears death.

Here is my second advice, after creating your character try to imagine them in another completely different situation, like normal life, or a fantasy world, ask yourself the question what would they do in that environment? If you can find a real complete explanation of their actions then yes your character has multiples dimensions if not try thinking about it again. Some example of questions I do want to point out are some like “if my character had all the power in the world what would they do first or”, “if my character had only a day left to live what would they do”

Why is Current media incapable of creating good threats like bruhhhh.

Okay so first of all let’s talk about stakes in a story, let’s say you are watching a slasher movie, slowly the cast gets slimmed down and people die in horrible ways, that should set stakes right ? Well if the villain is an absolute buffoon who makes the stupidest actions and decisions in the world, you wouldn’t feel intimidated at all because despite what the filmmaker might try to say the plot armor will NEVER make a character intimidating. It’s just like a detective character who just seems to know everything without a thought, well you won’t really fear the character failing. Worse is the the final girl, who is for some reason always escaping the slasher guy by pure luck every time, she is shown as incompetent but still she survives, which make the villain seem completely incapable so now you feel nothing.

To avoid this filmmaker often use techniques such has unpredictability, I mean good I mean good ones, for example instead of immediately seeing whose going to survive because the black guys always dies first and the virgin white woman is the last survivor, change the status quo, make us think that this character is obviously safe while they actually aren’t at all. Or actually make them menacing by SHOWING to the audience how horrible dangerous they can be. Which is why SHOW DON’T TELL is so important, telling us how dangerous someone can be only to see them get beaten to death at the end of the movie makes us feel nothing.

Midori felt like a impossible person to beat, he is smart, had twenty plans in advance, even in situation where the cast felt like they might have a chance he was always armed, just like the gun he promised to use or the rocket punch. When they felt like they were finally advancing, he put obstacle in their ways, such as the collar game or the moment he put the collar on explode mode for  ranmaru. The entire point in the murder game was to make time pass, it took a long time for the cast top realize that this whole time they were losing precious time not realizing that the dummies were the real problem. The characters that made you feel the most hopeless were the dummies, if you won by killing midori they would die, but if you lost you might lose people you love (keiji or gin). It felt hopeless because they were no solutions in the end. That creates tension so that creates stakes. If we were told how dangerous unpredictable sou was then it wouldn’t hit the same, we are shown that he is that terrible. There is a scene ingame where bbg shin ai tells us that midori tortured and like to destroy people. That’s exposition so TELL, but do you why it works, because we are SHOWN before his behavior. Midori felt unbeatable, so the fact that we were shown his weakness such has his petty behavior, hatred of minors, and fear of death, for the first time it feels like there is a chance that we might survive this. And still after he isn’t shown has an incompetent buffoon, he is one, but the narrative doesn’t show us that he is.

What is also consider is good to make the audience feel actual stakes is to first really develop well the main characters, how can we feel worry for a character if we don’t know them, the audience need to feels emotional connection to the main cast to actually care. You can use things such has moments where there is nothing special happening just character talking getting to know them. Make us feel why we need to care about them possibly losing, instead of being indifferent. Or I don’t know maybe make an entire spin off game where we get to have the cast talk to each other and seeing dynamics between character that died early to get them a chance to shine and make their death even more tragic, or even make mini episodes of characters who only got a single chapter to show off their characteristic, to get us to know them better? But that’s just a silly idea of course, wink, and wink.

My favorite thing about Midori is that he is actually pathetic, like really pathetic, but weirdly realistic?

Midori is the most pathetic character in the cast, yes more than shin, shin is leagues less pathetic. No I’m not saying that midori is not intimidating or scary, I would piss myself if I saw him. He’s a scary guy. But if you look at him more closely you can see that he is a baby brat in a big boy suit.

So let’s start by something clear, Sou Hiyori clearly displays antisocial behavior, or in common terms he is a psychopath/sociopath, this illness is very badly seen in medias, I am not saying that people who lacks empathy like him are inherently bad, he is, a lot of people with antisocial behavior actually suffers a lot and have a difficult life. Sou real issues is not his antisocial behavior, it’s his narcissism and god complex. Sou feels the need to HAVE CONTROL over others, he like the feeling of being in power, he sees the rest of the world has beneath him, toys for his pleasure. He says that he “really like humans” because despite it all he seems to put himself in a different categories than regular people, they are beneath him. When he loses control his calm and cool behavior disappears and we see his true face, a grown man who has throws a tantrum like a baby. One of the best representation of this is midori views on the cast:

Midori hates kanna, like no jokes he has beef with her, a fourteen years old, actually he has beef with a lot of people in the cast. Midori views emotional people has weak, people who are loving optimistic as beneath him and useless. He preferred when sara was cruel and horrible, that’s what he loved about her, he liked seeing her scary emotionless side. But Kanna, kanna is everything he hates. A crybaby who not only puts the group in harmony, is a source of hope in general, is the reason he near got to have closure with shin (killing him), he views kanna as “not fun shin”. We have many proofs for this, if you type the word kanna kizuchi he says this: “Poor Kanna'd weep! I think a more worthless name would be better for someone like me” He mocks her, but also himself (I’lll come back on this later), he calls her worthless. Also in the electric charge minigame, when he can choose who to shocks he chooses two people in particular, kanna who he hates and hinako who ruined his fun by giving the cast a chance in saving ranmaru. But he does also says mean spirited stuff to other people, qtaro and gin. He also says some sarcastic comments about nao and joe, saying that it’s such a shame that they died so young. But you might say why kanna especially? Because he is a petty baby who is jealous of kanna, Yes jealous, of kanna, a fourteen years old. Because he feels like she stole his hubby wubby shin away from him…. God I hate him. And you know what that make him a pathetic idiot, after the scene where kanna beats his ass, he’s all mad and like “uhh I’m going to pout I wanted you to cry like a lot, now I’m gonna cry”. An that’s actually god, because it humanize him, he wants need thoughts, he isn’t one note, and that’s the most important!

Sou is a villain but before that he is a character, a fully developed character, and THAT’S WHAT MAKE HIM GREAT, Sou works because he works realistically, I mean if you forget the robot part, it’s easy to imagine a narcissist man child who needs to feel in power towards other, so his main prey are young vulnerable people.Which leads me to my next point:

Sou is a failure like really, and we aren’t sad for him.

Sou failed everything he worked on, he failed to get the paper from alice, he failed whith shin since he had to leave earlier than he thought he would leave, because of his mistake he lost his position in the death game, then he failed to kill gin or keiji, and then he died like an idiot losing his cool and acting like a toddler. And he knows it that why he is a bit self-hating (he should be). And yet none of us feel any sympathy towards him, why? Because sou is one of the most despicable guy in existence. He is a disgusting pervert, sadistic asshole, and abusive narcissistic cunt who thinks he is better than everyone. From the bottom of my heart I hate him sooooo much he is literally the character I hate the most in existence. He abused shin, ruined keiji’s life, traumatized the entire cast, literally assaulted sara like he physically assaulted her. He mocked nao and joe and kugie life as useless. He is an obsessive jerk AND I HATE HIM. And you know what…… It’s good. Like I actually feel a lot of emotions when I think about him, he fuels me with anger and disgust, and if your characters can make me feel that much rage then you did it, you created an actual perfect character. Hiyori is such a shit person that I think about him a lot, writers shouldn’t be scared to make a character such hittable assholes, example bojack horseman in bojack horseman is the vilest man on earth and I love it, because I genuinely hate him. Just like I genuinely love kanna, like really I really love her, I in the same time despise midori so bad. We hate him because he is horrible to good people that WE KNOW AND CARE ABOUT, not random npcs. There is a lot of… disgusting implications in his story with shin that I will not talk about it makes me really uncomfortable right now. SO HERE IS A VERY TACKY TRANSITION TO TALK ABOUT WHY I HATE JUNKO FROM DANGANRONPA.

Junko is boring, that’s it, she is boring, not funny not interesting, she is a fetish, she is the biggest Mary sue on earth, she is a gross character made to make fun of people with disabilities and queer people. Her only traits is being crazy, that’s it. I wouldn’t call midori that crazy actually, he’s methodical calculated, and precise. Crazyness is a term for people who aren’t in control of their actions and delusional about reality, sou is not crazy, he knows what he is doing, he is in full control, while characters like shin should actually be consider crazy, like shin is actually crazy but sou isn’t.

Conclusion:

Sou is a breath of fresh air, because nankidai had the balls to write an actually interesting deep and threatening character AND make him a villain. He didn’t fall into the trap of making him have a sad backstory or good motives, sou is just selfish, that’s all he is. He make him a fun entertaining guy who you absolutely hates, he made him threatening and at the same time a complete doofus. He made him humane and pathetic.

But the thing that make me love nankidai the most is this

The fact that he actually killed him that takes courage as a writer to just end a character THAT WAY, which is why midori will never come back alive he is forever dead. And that take a lot of talents as a writer to just take one of the most important characters and just get him drilled to death in the anus, like dammn nankidai you are a savage. That fact alone makes him one of the best characters in game, I hate him as a person, but has a character he is a masterpiece.

Though Kanna could solo him

this was posted as a video on my blog this is mainly so people who don't want to stay there reading a 24 minute video of my stuttering can have a bit of quiet

[discotenny]

Pet-Names (hypmic)

What nicknames your partner would call you :3 Featuring EVERYONE(except Rei cause I don't write for him woahosoohosp) !!! THIS IS A BIG ONE RAHHHHHH

Mentions of “during intimacy" in Ramuda's section but no explicit smut. Everyone has attached drabbles :3

———

Buster Bros

Ichiro

He's such a babe guy OHHHH my goodness he's such a babe guy. Maybe he'll throw a baby in there too but he throws out babe like it's your second name. It sounds so sweet and casual coming from his mouth you can just hear the smile dripping from it.

"Babe, come here for a sec!" Ichiro calls from the kitchen. With a hm in reply, you come in and see him doing nothing but stand there. You go to ask him why he called you over- only for him to bring you into a warm hug. "I just wanted to hug you baby," he says, kissing your cheeks as you chuckle.

Jiro

Jiro strikes me as the type to only call you cute nicknames as a ploy to get you annoyed. He'll snicker as he calls you his 'pookie little sunshine bear' in front of all your friends and run away cackling as you chase him down. In private he'll be more soft- picking up 'babe' just like his brother calls you.

"Hey darling little sweetie pumpkin bear pie?" He asks you with the most innocent eyes and you glare at him with the fury of a thousand suns. Your friends laugh behind you and you make a promise to get him back later. Later comes with you tickling him with no mercy in the confines of his bedroom. Through fits of laughter and cries he yells, "Babe! Babe! Stop! Please!" Too bad though, maybe he shouldn't have been such a dick :P

Saburo

He's into the classics. More so- he simply calls you by your name cause he's a bit too embarrassed to call you anything else. Once he tried to call you 'babe' like he's heard his brothers do but it sounded so foreign coming from his mouth he'd rather you forget it ever happened.

"H-hey, b-baabeee~" Saburo says, trying to sound suave and immediately regretting it. You're not sure you heard him correctly, sounding more like a squeaking door rather than an actual sentence. "What did you say Sabu?" "N-Nothing!"

Mad Trigger Crew

Samatoki

He calls you classy shit like doll, honey, love. He's so sickly sweet when he calls you these pet names that you can't help the fluster that comes to your cheeks whenever he says it.

You're just about to go to bed, Samatoki already laying down. He's half asleep so you try and get in without much attention. As you fix yourself in bed, his hand finds yours and he stirs in his sleep. "G'night, love," he mutters, voice husk with tiredness. He falls back asleep quickly, unaware of the warmth spreading in your smile.

Jyuto

mjmjmjmjmmhmmhmgmmg he's so annoying. He's gonna pull out all the stops in an attempt to get you flustered but he's so smug and obvious with it that it makes you laugh. I know people consider Jyuto this sex god type beast but in my mind but I cannot imagine him as anything other than a pathetic house plant type of man.

He's leaning over the counter of the bar, sliding a drink he just bought your way. "Why hello there, dream boat," His eyes watch you from behind his glasses to see if you'll give the reaction he desires. "Mmmmm, try better next time, love," you wink back at him and he flusters instead. "Wh- why can't you just play along," he sighs, adjusting his tie and looking down bashfully.

Rio

In my previous writing for Rio I had him call his partner "dear" and I think it's so applicable to him!! He's a classic type guy and him calling you dear is just fjdafjsdkfdsj cute!

At the grocery store you always have to ask him to reach for the items at the top of the shelves. Even if you can reach it yourself it's nice to see how sweet he is whenever he hands the items to you. "Ah, Rio can you grab that pasta up there." "This one dear?" Rio perks up, holding the box in the air. "Yep! Thanks, love."

Fling Posse

Ramuda

AAAA RAMU!! He's gonna call you all the sweets. Sweetie-pie, sweetheart, sweetie, etc etc. Augh he'll even throw out a cutie in there when he's feeling like it. When in private and in intimacy, he'll call you such sweet affectionate terms like dear and love to show just how much he cares.

Ramuda hovers above you. The sheets tickle against bare skin and he intertwines your hands. "You look absolutely wonderful," he says, a smile spreading along his face. Your face flusters at the ever closening proximity between you two as he bends down. "Thank you for making my whole world, love," your lips connect within the darkness of your bedroom.

Gentaro

In public, he'll call you the most complex, cutesy, annoying nicknames when referring to you. Just cause he likes the reaction of the people around him- looks of ludicrousness and cringe. In private, he's not the type to pull a 'baby' or 'honey'. But he is the type to pull out daarin, which translates similarly to "my darling."

Gentaro's awake in the early mornings of the day. While you're still in bed, he's preparing tea for the two of you to share. You start to wake when he sets up a table beside you. "Ah, good morning, my darling," he greets you with a warm smile.

Dice

Similarly to Ichi, Dice is also a babe guy. He's always calling you with the widest smile on his face and a cheery tone to show just how much he cares. He totally calls you babe on social media whenever he posts you two like the sicko he is.

Your phone rings in your pocket and a smile comes on your face when you see the caller. "Hey? What's up?" You say to your boyfriend on the other line. "Baaaaabe-" he starts off and you roll your eyes playfully. "Can you pick me up? I don't have enough money left for the train fair..." "Of course, baby," you say. In reply you get a bunch of fast paced thank yous and smoochie noises over the phone.

Matenrou

Jakurai

He calls you angel cause you're his angel <3. His light in life, the star in his sky. He's such a sickly sweet romantic it's gross and yucky BLAH !

It was a hot day in Shinjuku and you were sitting in front of the house fan, trying to cool yourself off. Home alone for the time being, Jakurai was expected to come back with takeout. It was wayyyy to hot to fire up the stove. As if on cue, the door opens and Jakurai holds a teddy bear patterned reusable bag filled with cold soba and iced drinks. Still in the doorway he calls out to you, "I'm home, angel!"

Hifumi

Hifumi's the type to default to a lot of food based pet names. Pudding, honey, pumpkin, sugar, etc etc. He never calls you these in public, instead calling you by name around people. But in private, he's happy to call you all the sickly sweet food based names he can think of!

Doppo's out of the apartment today and you're visiting your boyfriend. He's cooking up a meal as you sit by him, talking about your day. "Ah yeah, the trains were closed earlier- something about flooding cause of the rain yesterday..." you say, fiddling with a cup of water. "Did you take a cab instead then, honey-bun?" Hifumi doesn't even look at you as he says the term of endearment, focused on the hot pan in front of him. It just spills out so naturally, alongside the accompanying smile on his face.

Doppo

Doppo doesn't really use nicknames- also finding it embarrassing when they slip past his lips. Though, deep down he really really really wants to call you these names! He wishes to be the type that can call his lover baby, love, dear, sweetie, etc etc. Though, they only really slip out when he gets a bit toooo tipsy.

Doppo's head rests on your shoulder on the train ride home. You, as the designated guide for both Doppo and Hifumi after you three went out drinking in the streets of Shinjuku, held onto their arms as you tried to stop them from collapsing on the floor. Doppo murmurs, trying to bat your hand away from holding onto Hifumi in annoyance. "Mmmmm, baby stop holding onntoo him you- HIC- you're mine..." Doppo nuzzles himself into your neck. You silently thank the late night as the train car was basically empty at this time. "I'm the love of yer life... not him..." It'd be a cute memory if Hifumi didn't vomit on the floor as soon as you stepped out the station.

Bad Ass Temple

Kuko

Kuko thinks of you as his little baby, no matter how annoying as it may come off. He loves being really cutesy with you, calling you his baby wherever he can. He's just silly like that!

You're sweeping the floor around his family's temple- gathering the falling leaves that come with the new season. You originally came to hang out with your boyfriend but he was no where to be found (probably procrastinating on sweeping the floor). The quietness is nice, you decide as you enjoy the peaceful change of pace. When a heavy presence hugs you from the back you start attacking it with the broom. "AHHHHH! BABY NO! BABY STOP WHAT ARE- OW! OW!" Kuko screams, disrupting the peace from before.

Jyushi

He's so cute I love him. He calls you all the terms of endearment relating to beauty, handsomeness, etc etc. If you're fem he'll call you princess (HE'S SUCH A PRINCESS GUY RIGHT GUYS???). But his general petname for you no matter your gender is gonna be 'dear.' Cause he's just so cute like that.

After one of his concerts you meet him backstage. He jumps into your arms, still in his stage uniform and makeup. But still, he’s your Jyushi. And your Jyushi peppers kisses all over your face as soon as you find some alone time. “Did you see me? Did you think I looked totally cool up there dear?” He’s excited, riding off the high from his performance. He’s smiling, radiating and you can’t help but reply with a yes, of course.

Hitoya

He's like Jyuto in he intentionally tries to be suave but unlike Jyuto, he actually succeeds. He calls you cutie cause he just thinks you're so adorable- all the time.

Its' the morning and he's about to leave. You fix his tie at the door, something he always chides you for doing for but never actually stops you from doing. It's a quiet morning and you fill the air with a hum. "And... all done, Mr. Bigshot Lawyer." A break from mundane routine, Hitoya hugs you and brings his face to your neck, speaking into it. "Thanks, cutie." You push him out the door before he can tease you about the flush on your cheeks.

Dotsuitare Hompo

Sasara

SASARAA MY BABY MY BABY. Out of the goodness of my heart, totally unbiased, Sasara is a total romantic UGH. He's the type to pull shit like "my partner," "my baby," "my love," UGHHHHHH I love him.

He comes home slurred, tipsy from a night of celebration with Rosho and Rei. Dotsuitare Hompo just passed their qualifying match to compete in the DRB and they couldn't be more excited. Sasara's drunken state results in 3 things- him struggling to open the door to your shared home, him buying you a several gifts from his night out, and him dropping several gifts on the floor as he tries to open the door. You hear commotion outside and open the door hesitantly. "Hello...?" You call, before you see your partner at the other side. "My baby!" Sasara screams, pulling you outside into a hug.

Rosho

Rosho's a pretty simple man. He doesn't want to overdo it with nicknames (unlike someone he knows) and he doesn't want to be so closed off you question his affection for you. He defaults to a simple "love" when referring to or from you- because that's all he feels for you.

He's grading papers and muttering to himself as he corrects the wrongs and praises the rights. Rosho's hand is in his hair as he whispers to himself. You walk into the living room, where he sits on the floor in front of the TV. Frowning at the messy state you find your partner in so late at night, you sit down beside him rest your head on his shoulder. "Ah- hello there, love," he smiles, a hand coming to your head to pat it. "Rest well."

Rei 404 NOT FOUND !!

———

Long post, even longer taglist :3 Have this to fill the void between posts ehe

[auras-moonstone]

Hello! May I request an Ethan x reader, Hogwarts AU? The details don't really matter, but I just thought it'd be a cool idea. You're seriously my go-to acc when it comes to anything Ethan/Jack related, so I couldn't think of anyone better to request this to <3

hii, oh my god you don’t even know how excited i was while writing this! i’ve been wanting to write about hogwarts so i’m really glad you requested this! thank you so so much, i hope you enjoy it! 🤍

let the games begin — ethan landry

word count: 2,973

pairing: slytherin!ethan landry x hufflepuff!fem!reader

summary: when y/n, captain of the hufflepuff quidditch team, hears ethan, slytherin’s team captain, underestimating her team’s ability, they make a bet.

author’s note: i made the reader a hufflepuff bc that’s my house, not gonna lie.

WHEN Y/N RECEIVED THE LETTER FROM HER HEAD OF HOUSE informing she had been chosen to be Hufflepuff’s team Quidditch captain, she was absolutely appalled. Girls, sadly and unfairly, weren’t often given such positions, so she hadn’t expected it at all, no matter how skilled of a seeker she was.

Her stomach turned upside down as she skimmed through the words inked on the parchment over and over again. Of course she was happy to have been selected, but she couldn’t help but feel scared. It was twice the weight a normal captain had on their shoulders—not only she had to be a great captain because of the thrill of winning the Quidditch Cup, but she also had to prove women could do as well as men. If she failed, she knew that the chauvinistic assholes around the school would take the opportunity to state once more that women weren’t competent enough to hold such title.

Y/N was not going to let that happen, so she spent the remaining days of summer scheming tactics and a training routine. When she got back to Hogwarts, she felt more confident than ever, feeling she hoped she could transfer to her teammates.

The Hufflepuffs were beyond happy and excited to have her as their captain, especially her best friend Cedric, who had always told her she would be a fearless leader. The rest of the houses, though, the majority of the people in it didn’t have an ounce of faith on her and threw funny glances her way.

The day professor Hooch posted the upcoming matches, the funny glances turned into ones of pity. The first game of the season would be Hufflepuff vs. Slytherin, and the thoughts were loud around the castle—poor Y/N, Slytherin will sweep the air with her on her very first game as a captain; hope the Slytherins have some mercy on her. It was clear that pretty much everyone was confident on the outcome of the game. Especially the Slytherins.

“That game will be as easy as taking a candy from a baby.” the Slytherin captain’s voice ricocheted on the hallway Y/N was passing by. “We got the first match of the season on our bag, boys.”

Y/N clenched her jaw and marched towards them. “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch, Landry.”

The tall, curly-haired boy tuned around with a smirk on his handsome face and looked down at her. “Oh, come on, Y/L/N. You don’t stand a chance, and everyone knows that.”

The corner of Y/N’s lips lifted up. “You know, everyone’s been throwing shit at me and my team without giving me the benefit of the doubt, and yeah it sucks a bit, but you know what I realized?”

“Nope, enlighten me” he said amused.

“Victory is going to taste much sweeter. And when you have to shake my hand after I kicked your ass, I hope you remember how you spoke too soon. And if you don’t, I’ll be there to remind you.”

A wave of respect passed through Ethan’s body. The way Y/N stood up for herself and her team made him feel some kind of way, though he very much liked to push her buttons so he continued with a playful smirk. “You seem pretty confident, Y/L/N. Wanna make a bet?”

“I’m listening” she held his glance.

“If I win, you’ll do my Potions homework for the rest of the season, if you win-”

“When” she corrected confidently. “And what can you offer me? Unlike you, I have a brain that is pretty capable of doing homework.”

He tried not to smile “If you win, I’ll buy you all the books you want each time we go to Hogsmade during this season.”

The Hufflepuff’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. “Deal! Oh my god, I have a list of books I want and it’s very large, Landry”

“It’s very large, Landry. Can’t say I haven’t been told that before” he said with a mischievous smile and laughed at her disgusted expression.

“Poor soul, I’m afraid to inform you have been lied to.”

“Nah, you want proof? I’m very happy to show you”

“You’re repulsing” she scrunched her nose.

Ethan chuckled, she was adorable. “Do we have a deal, little badger?”

Y/N stretched out her hand “Deal.”

Y/N’S CONFIDENT SMILE LINGERED ON ETHAN’S MIND AND THERE WAS NOTHING THE BOY COULD DO TO ERASE THAT IMAGE. The girl was simply too perfect—gorgeous, smart, funny, brave, kind, confident and so adorable that everytime Ethan saw her on the hallways he wanted to wrap his arms around her tiny frame and squish her to death. He also loved how she didn’t take shit from anyone. Y/N was the exact personification of a badger—cute and friendly-looking, but if you poked her, the claws came out and she would not hesitate to scratch you with them.

Ethan didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed her before, but now that he did he couldn’t get her off his mind. Every glance and smirk Y/N sent his way felt like some sort of prize for him, and now that the day of the match had arrived, the feeling of uneasiness took over his chest. Would he still have her attention once their little bet was over? He guessed no, and so he made it his goal to ensure Y/N kept looking at him after it.

When the teams entered the pitch, the stands roared in excitement. While most of the people didn’t have faith on Y/N, they still rooted for Hufflepuff, because their hatred towards the house of serpents was stronger than the lack of faith on the female leader.

“Time to lose, are you ready for it?” Ethan smirked, holding out his hand for Y/N to take it.

Madame Hootch blew the whistle, and Y/N smirked back at the boy in front of her. “Let the games begin, Landry.”

When Y/N was in the air, the concept of time disappeared. She didn’t know if the game lasted 20 seconds or 20 years—what she did know, was that it ended as soon as the palm of her hand surrounded the golden snitch. Hufflepuff had beaten the Slytherin by 250 points, it’s been years since the last time the house of badgers won by so many points.

“Congratulations, Y/L/N. You were amazing” Ethan said with a, surprisingly for Y/N, genuine smile. As captains, they were the ones in charge of putting everything back in the supply closet, so they were now all alone.

“Thank you, Landry” she replied contently. She was beaming, and Ethan thought she couldn’t have looked more beautiful, even when covered in sweat and with her hair all messy from the wind. “You played amazing, too. Though, don’t think that your compliments are saving you from spending your money on me.”

“Wouldn’t dream on it” Ethan laughed. He couldn’t wait to spend his time with her, to get to know her better.

“Good. Now, let’s go back to the castle. I think you have Potions homework to do… on your own” she smirked playfully.

“You’re kinda mean for a Hufflepuff” he played back.

“Well, if we are stereotyping, you’re kinda nice for a Slytherin” Y/N bumped his forearm with her shoulder. The guy was super tall—and probably the most attractive human she had ever met.

“Kinda?!” he raised his voice, acting offended.

“Well, no matter how nice you are now, I didn’t forget the little scene at the hallway. You underestimated me and my team. The fact that I’m a girl doesn’t make me less capable, you know?”

Ethan frowned. “Wait, wait, wait” he stopped her by the shoulders, and she had to tilt her head up to look him in the face. “Yes, I thought your team would suck, but not because you’re a girl. Hufflepuff has come out in last place for years, that’s the only reason I said it. It has absolutely nothing to do with you.”

Y/N’s eyes softened a bit and nodded slowly “Okay”

“I’m serious. In fact, last year you were the only good player the team had. If Hufflepuff had points, it was all because of you. Because you never failed to catch that snitch. If you had had great players supporting you, you would’ve won that cup.”

“You think so?” Y/N asked, feeling the heat creep up from her neck right to her face. His face was so close, his eyes so bright and voice so soft and sincere that her heart went crazy.

“I know so, Y/N” he squeezed her waist. When did his hands get there and why did it feel so good? And why did her name sounded so much better coming from his lips?

“Thank you, Ethan”

Her smile was so shiny that could light up the whole castle “Just telling the truth. And hey, don’t tell this to my team but I’m not completely sad you won that game. I heard what they have been saying on the hallways, about you not good enough for the position just for being a girl. I’m glad you proved them wrong.”

Was it normal for her heart to be beating this fast? “Well, thank you for saying that. But the talking won’t stop, they are going to find another excuse to keep saying the same thing.”

“Then you’ll have to keep winning. Not that it will be a problem, because your team is very good this year”

“You shouldn’t say those things about the rival team, Ethan. I think you have a soft spot for me” she teased him.

“I have known that since that day at the hallway, Y/N. You aren’t saying anything I didn’t already know” he answered truthfully, catching her off guard. “Since that day, I knew you were special. And I’d like to know you better, if you let me.”

Y/N nodded with enthusiasm “Yes, I’d really really like that, Ethan”

“Would you like to go to Hogsmade with me? I know we kinda were already, because of the bet. But I mean, be with me the whole day” he said nervously.

“I would love to, Eth”

“Great, it’s a date” he said, and the blood rushed into her cheeks. “Awe, are you blushing for me? How cute”

“Shut up, asshole.” she pushed him away playfully.

“Let’s go, little badger” he felt a little bold, so he grabbed her hand and intertwined their fingers. Thankfully, she didn’t push him away, instead she squeezed his hand.

TURNS OUT, Y/N WAS RIGHT. Their victory wasn’t enough, people still weren’t aware of her talent as a captain and still found excuses to justify their win. Even after the following matches the Hufflepuff team won. People said it was beginners luck, that the teams took pity on her, or Ethan’s personal favourite: the Slytherin captain was so smitten with her that he let her win that first match and was helping her with tactics.

“That’s such bullshit! I mean, I am smitten with you but I would never let you win. The win is all on you” Ethan rambled as they made their way towards Hogsmade.

“I know, Eth. You don’t have to assure me, I know” Y/N laughed. “I have to say, it’s really cute that you are so mad about what they have been saying about me.”

“How are you not mad? It doesn’t make any sense. If you were a men, they would be kissing the floor you walked on”

“I know that too. But I have reached the point in where I’m just so sick of them coming at me that I just ignore it. If I react, they’ll say I’m overreacting and it’s just going to get worse”

“Today I almost punched a Gryffindor who was talking shit about you” he admitted.

“Please don’t punch anyone for me. It’s not worth it”

“Agree to disagree. If anyone is worthy, it’s you”

“You’re so sweet” she kissed his knuckles. “But really, don’t do it. Just imagine you punching him, that’s what I do”

“Fine” he scoffed. “Now, let’s get your books and see how much it hurts my wallet”

Y/N laughed. “You don’t have to buy me books, Eth. I only wanted to prove I’m good at being captain, and I did”

“Nope, I am buying you all the books you want.” Ethan said, opening the door of the book store. “Don’t hold back.”

Y/N didn’t hold back. Ethan exited the little bookshop with a bag full of romance books and a happy Y/N on his arm.

“Bet you regret that bet now” Y/N laughed.

“If there is something in my life I don’t regret is making that bet, Y/N” Ethan said in a serious tone. “Besides, I would’ve bought every single book in that shop if it meant you would keep smiling at me like that.”

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore, if she didn’t kiss Ethan she might die. So she carefully set one hand on the back of his neck while the other cupped his jaw and she stood on her tip-toes.

“I want to kiss you, Eth. Really really bad, is that okay?” she whispered.

Okay? It was more than okay. And instead of answering with words, he lowered his head and their freezing lips met. Suddenly the warm in their hearts nullified the icy feeling that the December snow had been putting on them. The air was extremely cold, but nothing seemed to matter other than the kiss they had been wanting since their small confrontation in the hallway at the beginning of the year.

THE REST OF THE SEASON WENT THE SAME WAY. Hufflepuff won almost every match, yet people still had doubts when it came to the captain—no matter how much she hustled and put in the work, they wouldn’t give her any credit and still questioned if she deserved the title. No matter how fast she ran, she couldn’t get there, she couldn’t earn their respect.

True to his word, Ethan never got physical with anyone who talked shit about his girl (which didn’t mean he wouldn’t call them out) and would instead reassure her countless time how capable and amazing she was. Which lifted her spirits more than he realized.

The final match was coming and Y/N could barely eat from nervousness—it would be Hufflepuff vs. Gryffindor and she knew it was going to be tough. Oliver Wood was a force to be reckoned with and so was his team.

The pressure was drowning her, it’s been years since she had seen the Hufflepuff house so hopeful, and if the victory slipped from her fingers it was really going to crush her. At least she had Ethan now, if she didn’t, she was pretty sure she would’ve already drowned—he was her life jacket. Cheesy, but true.

“Are you going to wear something yellow for me?” she asked in a teasing tone, straddling his lap. They were on the locker room, sitting on a bench as the girl waited for her team to arrive. Ethan was there for emotional support, because in only a few hours they would know who the cup will belong to this year.

“I’m always wearing something yellow when you play. Discreetly, of course. But not today, today everyone’s going to see me fully rooting for my girl” he said pressing kisses on her neck.

“Theres no way you’re going to do that in the middle of the Slytherin bleachers” Y/N laughed shaking her head. They had been keeping their relationship low-key, but now that the season was almost over they decided they didn’t want to hide it anymore.

“You wanna bet?” he smirked, making her laugh harder.

“Okay. If you win, I’ll let you use the Prefects bathroom” she said.

“Fuck, yes” he said excited. He had been begging her to let him use it, but like the good girl she was, she refused. She took the Prefect position as seriously as her captain position. “It’s almost time. Kick asses, babe”

“You bet I will”

“No matter what the outcome is, I want you to know I’m very proud of you. For being an amazing captain and for putting up with the shade everyone’s been throwing at you” Ethan said cupping her cheeks.

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears. “You don’t know how much it means to me, Eth. Thank you”

“You got this, babe. See you in a couple of hours, I’ll shower you with kisses. Everywhere” his eyes turned a little darker when he said the last word.

“Give me a preview?” she looked at him in the eyes.

“God, you can’t give me bed eyes when I’m supposed to leave” he groaned.

Y/N giggled and kissed his cheek “I love teasing you”

THE BATTLE FOR THE WIN HAD BEEN LONG, BUT THE HUFFLEPUFFS STOOD CHAMPIONS THAT AFTERNOON. They gave their blood, sweat and tears for that, and their karma came in form of a gold shiny cup.

Y/N’s karma was also her boyfriend, who sprinted towards her in a yellow shirt with the number 13 and her last name on the back. Ethan spun her in his arms as they both laughed and cried.

“You did it, babe. Holy shit” he said happily.

“And you wore a Hufflepuff shirt. My shirt! Oh my god” she laughed. “I love you”

Ethan stood still for a moment, but then he smiled widely. “I love you too. So much”

“Then kiss me for Merlin’s sake”

“I love you” he repeated when they pulled away. “Go celebrate with your team, Cap. Meet me at midnight at the bathroom?”

“I love you too. And yes, meet you there” she replied breathlessly.

“Underwear is optional, by the way” he whispered in her ear, making a rush of electricity run through her body.

“If it’s not necessary, then why wear it, right?” she smirked.

He kissed her once more. “Can’t wait”