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munsonsreputation · 2 years ago

Text

Dress

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [5.6k]

warnings: no use of y/n, best friends to (secret (kinda)) lovers (brief backstory), cursing, drinking, reader and steve are both twenty, SMUT (minors do not interact or i will dropkick you) kissing, PIV, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, yall...this is just fiction), multiple orgasms (reader), creampie (like I said...use protection), annnnnd aftercare <3

summary: everyone knew you and steve as being the best of friends...though they had their suspicions of something more happening between you two. however at hopper and joyce's wedding everything seems to be exposed, or at least that's what they think. at the end of the day, the only people that truly knew what was going on between you and steve, were you and steve...and the dress you bought for him to take off.

Across the room, his eyes were dead set on your figure—the wine glass you’d been carrying now halfway empty. All of your weight rested on one leg, allowing the opposite hip to be jutted out so exquisitely that your thigh peeked out through the high slit. Your hair fell effortlessly down the expanse of your back in free waves.

“So you and Steve?”

The woman you were talking to was a complete stranger, just a friend of Joyce’s that she invited for the wedding. She must have known who you were, or at least Steve, because when she asked the question, she looked over at him, instantly tracking him in the crowded room.

Your eyes wandered ever so coolly, bluffing like you couldn’t feel him gawking at you in your peripheral for most of the night.

It was offensive how good Steve looked in a tuxedo getup. It had you wishing more people in Hawkins invited you two to their wedding just so you could have an excuse to see him in this attire again. Not that his classic polo and khaki pants didn’t do it for you, but this was a nice change for once.

“We’re just friends.” You waved off, separating your eyes from him despite your urges to continue eye fucking him for the rest of the night.

She laughed, her own hand reaching forward to rest on your wrist where she gripped too tightly for your liking. “I heard Jonathan’s girlfriend Nancy used to date him?”

“It’s true.” You confirmed, peeking over to the dance floor where a very intoxicated Nancy was having the time of her life with Jonathan who looked to be just as wasted, dancing to the beat of the music.

“Jonny is a sweet boy, but Steve is just...wow.” She purred lowly, turning her head towards Steve who did his best to play it off like he wasn’t ogling at you. Coughing awkwardly into his elbow and turning away instantly as you held back a smirk and turned your attention back to the older woman.

“If I was still twenty, I would love me a piece of Steve Harring—“

“More wine?”

The stranger quickly shut her mouth as Steve popped up out of nowhere, suddenly holding the wine bottle in his hand as you grinned sneakily your hand holding out the glass for him to fill though there was still burgundy in there.

“What were you ladies talking about?” Steve sing-songed, the soft glug glug glug subduing the music as the lady blushed, turning away as you did your best to hide your amusement.

Steve bit his lip, staring as you eyed him up and down. “You’re always the talk of the town, Harrington.”

He snickered, shaking his head, “Nothing bad, I hope.”

You pouted with a not so believable innocent faced as you drew an x over your chest, “Cross my heart.”

Steve snickered at your hilarity, paying no mind to the woman beside you other than blindlessly filling up her glass with more alcohol.

“It’s nice to meet you Steven, my name is—“

You perked up at the swift song change, synth permeating the air as everyone hooted around and more dancers filled the floor. Steve turned to you, planting down the wine bottle and holding out his hand.

“Would you mind holding this?” You rose your brow towards the lady, your lips sheathing around the cusp of the wineglass, and lifting it, taking one last sip before sticking it in her free hand.

You gulped the bitter, looking back at Steve, then back at the lady with a calculated grin glued on your face because you wanted to add salt to her poor middle-aged wound.

“This is my boyfriend and I’s favorite song.”

The look on her face was priceless. Eyes wide and mouth held agape like you lied to her, which you totally did, but you had no care. Just simply twirling around and letting Steve draw you to the dance floor.

“You called me your boyfriend.” Steve’s voice filled with surprise and contentment, whispering the words in your ear while you moved your body against his.

You wiggled your shoulders, leaving kisses up his neck and murmuring in his ear, “Would you rather me refer to you as the guy I’m sleeping with?”

He shivered at your articulation and touch upon his skin, beaming at you and shaking his head. Steve was more than delighted to be called your boyfriend, even if that meant that your not so secret love affair was finally revealed.

But it wasn’t as if people didn’t know you and Steve were together.

Everyone knew you were together.

You two were just too blind to see that everyone knew.

The chemistry you and Steve shared was out of this world. Maybe it was because you two were best friends before you both decided to pursue something further.

But you and Steve both knew that you didn’t want each other merely as best friends. There was always something more lingering between the two of you.

Steve had met you long ago, back in middle school when you had moved to Hawkins. You were seated beside him in social studies, back when he had a buzz cut and you had experimentally bleached hair, or at least pieces of it after seeing it in magazines and wanted to strut into eighth grade with a cool look.

Friends to Best Friends is something that instantaneously took place between the two of you. But so did the mutual pining. Years of seeing each other jump in and out of relationships and double dates throughout high school was agonizing.

He’d listen to you complain about your incompetent partners and you’d never hear the end of his famous “you deserve better” or “I’ll kick their ass” lectures.

And of course you’d listen to him go on about how badly his dates went and how he was trying to find someone to really settle down with.

Both of you knowing and wanting one another, but just being too petrified to ruin the perfectly established and strong friendship you already had.

But like all the good things to come, you both had to be patient with time. It wasn’t until the two of you graduated that you decided to give the relationship thing a try.

“Why are people staring so hard?” He suspected, eyes floating around the banquet hall to see some guests and his friends closely watching your every move.

You humphed cluelessly, lifting his hand and intertwining yours together as you danced, “They think they know everything…like we really are just best friends.”

It wasn’t like you and Steve didn’t want people to know you were together. But it was just nicer keeping everything private. Him knowing he could come home to you. And you knowing you could come home to him.

An intimate comfort that was sailing right under everyone’s noses, just for you two to keep.

But holding back from each other was hard.

Pretending that you and Steve were stuck in traffic, which is why you were late to game night, when, in fact, you two got caught up having sex.

Or having to bite your tongue when Robin would ask Steve about any hot babes he was seeing.

And Eddie teasing you about how flirtatious the server was being when Steve just wanted to intervene and tell the son of a bitch to back off.

Self-control and lying is something you and Steve had thought you were good at—essentially keeping your relationship a secret, but they all caught on immediately.

Dustin and the boys noticing your car in Steve’s driveway at late hours of the night.

And Max and El questioning you about the hickey on your neck when you dropped them off at the arcade.

Evidently, with the younger teens conspiring it was only a while before the older teens found out and began their own discoveries.

Jonathan and Nancy, seeing the two of you sat in the theaters, snuggled up after you both had told them you would be working that night.

Eddie and Robin stumbling across a polaroid photo of the two of you kissing inside Steve’s glove box.

And even the adults, Hopper and Joyce, catching the two of you having dinner at Enzo’s to celebrate your three-month anniversary.

Everyone knew, but no one said a word.

“Henderson looks like he’s about to explode.” You stiffed your laugh with a smile, moving your eyes away from the curly-headed boy being shaken by Lucas and Mike as he glared.

Steve chortled, shaking his head at the young boy and mouthing a sorry, “He probably feels betrayed his favorite babysitter has been keeping his girl a secret.”

“Robin and Eddie don’t seem too surprised.” You tilted your chin to them, their shining figures gawking at you two as you stuck your tongue out at them, earning a laugh.

By now, ABBA had died down, and a slow song had replaced the synth. Bodies moving deliberately as the lights dimmed down and only couples were left on the dance floor.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Steve began, his lips ghosting upon your ear and he squeezed your waist, “You in this dress should be a crime.”

You blushed, your face nuzzling itself into his neck as you followed his lead, your hips rocking to the direction of his hands, “I told you…I only bought it so you could take it off.”

The air was thick, like it was just you and him in the room. The sexual tension lingering between the both of you was almost painful to try to hold back from, and so Steve spoke, one of his hands trailing up your spine and to the back of your neck, bringing your face away to meet him.

“Let’s get out of here.”

His voice dripped with seduction, his pupils blown wide as he stared intensely into your orbs. Though the lights were dimmed, he had memorized every feature and its curve on your body. You looked enticing, the kind that made him want to worship your body in private, like he knew how to.

“Please.” You replied, unwrapping your arms from his neck, and hooking them around his biceps and allowing him to lead you away from the dancing.

His other arm covered the small of your back, closing the distance between the both of you, desperately wanting you close to him. Your heels clicked against the floors, strolling past your friends and firing them a smile while you and Steve passed, accompanied by their whistles and Nancy and Robin blowing your kisses.

“Congratulations, again.” Steve congratulated, withdrawing his arm from your waistline and propping it up on Hop’s shoulder.

The newly wed couple stood at the double doors of the banquet hall, getting some of their photos taken as you greeted them adieu.

“Leaving so soon?” Joyce sought, resting a heartening hand on your shoulder and squeezing, and you smiled at her.

“Steve and I are gonna get some rest in the hotel room, but we’ll still be up bright and early tomorrow for breakfast at the cafe.” You reassured her of the plans that were already made and she smiled, kissing your cheek then doing the same to Steve.

“Don’t have too much fun now.” The older man badgered, patting Steve on his back and ruffling your hair as you giggled and nodded.

“Night Mr. and Mrs. Hopper.” Steve bowed, draping his arm back around your back as they waved goodnight, watching you two walk out of the doors and promptly adverting their eyes to the others who were giggling and whispering to themselves.

And of course, the second you and Steve were out of sight from everyone, your lips connected frantically. Stumbling into the elevator and him only drawing away for a millisecond to make sure he was clicking the right floor number before you dragged him back to you again.

Fingertips skimmed and squeezing parts of each other’s body, yearning for the electrifying touch that always got one another going a thousand miles over the limit. The only thing that tore them apart was the ding that came from the elevator, the doors opening as they arrived on their respective floor.

Steve wasted no time hoisting you up with ease, followed by your squeal as he smacked your butt. He was swift and smooth, reaching his hand into his pant pocket for the room key and unlocking the door. Kicking it shut and twisting the lock, he made his way over to the bed, placing you down at the foot of it.

The moonlight slithered past the curtains, illuminating your body before him. You leaned up on your elbows, uncrossing your legs and inching them open, wider, wider, and wider, until Steve finally fitted himself between you, trapping himself as you locked your legs around him.

His palms came down on the cushion, the soft cotton sheets upon his skin, leaning down, hovering over you, face fitting perfectly against yours.

“No more games.” He murmured sternly, his lips brushing along your jaw and you huffed out a laugh, playing coy.

“What’re you talking about?”

You were bullshitting him. You knew exactly what he was talking about.

The entire night you were playing games with him, knowing he couldn’t do anything but bite his lip and watch.

Watching you rock your hips back and forth to the beat of the music.

Watching you strike a pose every time the photographer would approach you for pictures.

Just anticipating to finally get his hands on you like this very moment.

“Stop wasting time, Steven.” You grumbled, shuffling your face closer to his and sighing as he finally connected your lips back together.

This time, his hands withdrew from the bed, instead smoothing down your exposed thighs and sweeping the fabric of your dress back, giving him more access to you. The firmness pressed into your clothed center gave you affirmation that Steve was more than ready to take you, to make you his as you did the same to him.

Your legs tightened around back, pulling him closer and your hands gripped and tugged on his suit jacket, prompting him to pull his hands away from you and shrug the coat off. Your lips moved in tandem with each other as you two made quick work of getting rid of each other’s clothes.

Your fingers skimmed against the buttons of his shirt, exposing his skin to the cool air and hands caressing your back as he unzipped the dress.

Steve pulled away from the kiss, inciting a wail to leave your lips, craving nothing more than to mesh your bodies together for eternity. He laughed at your neediness, but never in a bad way. He was just always astounded at how deeply you wanted him. How you always craved to have his touch.

“Fucking beautiful.” He spoke more so to himself, his tender palms peeling the dress off your shoulders and down the rest of your body, leaving it to fall to the floor right beside his feet.

Your heels were still on, those damn things that made your legs look even better, and made Steve even more of a feral man the more he kept watching you the entire night.

You’d never get acquainted to his skill, the way his hands would scroll over your body, burning your skin with electrifying touches that made you want more.

Rolling your head back with a deep breath leaving you, he squeezed your breasts in his hands, chuckling at the way you instantly fell deeper into the bed. “Don’t make me wait, please.”

Begging usually worked with most guys, but Steve…oh that man hated when he made you feel like you had to beg.

He’d give you anything if you’d ask.

Sure, sometimes begging was a fun little game the two of you liked to play in bed every once in a while.

But he loved to please you, do anything to get you off and give you the pleasure you so rightfully deserved.

You cried out a complaint as he reached back and undid your legs from around his body, but immediately shifted into a whistle when he shrugged off the button down you had loosened. His nimble hands worked his belt undone and through the loops, his eyes wandering up to meet yours before speaking.

“Teasing me all night with no bra on.”

You looked down at your exposed chest and shrugged innocently. “Couldn’t wear it with the dress.”

He tsked, nodding his head as he unzipped his pants, kicking out of his shoes first before leaving his legs bare. He was instantly back in between your still spread legs, working your heels off of your feet, tossing them a little gently off to the side of the room.

His knees made contact with the bed, hoisting you up onto the mattress with your lips kissing all over his bare skin until you sensed the cushioned headboard above you.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” Steve spoke low, stretching your face away from his chest and pushing a kiss to your lips before tearing away.

Your hips jutted up, pressing against his covered crotch, making the two of you moan just before Steve pushed your body back down. “C’mon, tell me, baby.”

“Want you to touch me.” You hissed softly, head thrown back against the pillows, feeling his fingers dance along the waistband of your underwear, fiddling with the flimsy fabric but never daring to drag them off your body.

His breath fanned over your stomach where he pressed pecks along the skin until he just barely ghosted his lips over the front of your panties. “Won’t make you beg tonight, honey…just want you to be a little more specific.”

Your second attempt at jutting your hips up to where you needed him was unsuccessful. His firm grip holding your body into the bed with nowhere to go.

“M-mouth, want your mouth, please.”

In a blink of an eye, your panties were abandoned somewhere in the room and Steve found his place between your legs, his large hands splayed on your inner thighs as he spread you open. Your fingers urgently tangling in his hair, nudging him closer as his tongue lapped at you as if he was parched.

“B-baby, oh my god, just like—right there!”

Curses, whines, and a mixture of moans tore from your throat, the noises from your sinful mouth echoing off the walls and traveling straight to Steve member, getting him incredibly harder by the second.

His hum of approval against your sensitive core only made you louder, your fingers breaking away from his hair and instead twisting into the bedsheets, using it as leverage as you withered beneath him. His tongue was ruthless, never moving slower or picking up the pace too quickly. Steve always knew what would set you off, his eyes trailing from your tits to your face, observing you slowly being to unravel.

“S-steve, I’m gonna cum…p-please.” Your eyes were shut tight, rib cage heaving up and down and the lightness consuming all your senses until Steve spoke against you, “Cum, baby.”

His mouth enclosing around your bundle of nerves combined with the squeeze he gave your thighs led you to your first release of the night. A sob leaving your mouth as you caught your breath and gradually came back with cloudy eyes, Steve’s mouth smoothly leaving your core and kissing the inside of your thighs as he ran his hands over your midsection.

“Good?” He proposed cheekily, sitting up with his lips and the skin around his mouth covered in your essence, glimmering in the pale moonlight.

You swallowed, the dryness in your throat washing away and you nodded, leaning up on your elbows and pressing your face forward. “Amazing.”

He met you halfway, relaxing his forehead on yours and nudging your noses together. “Want a taste?”

You could feel the fire starting up inside you again, chewing your lip with a hum until you let the skin go, granting him to kiss you passionately. The blend of your sweetness and his mouth washing over you like the most decadent honey until he tore away, a string of saliva darting between your pair of lips.

“Please, fuck me, Steve…been waiting all night.”

You were able to roll your hips this time, right up against his crotch, being able to feel every vein and ridge despite him still being covered. You knew your man like the back of your hand. Had every inch of him memorized.

He kissed you once more before sliding away. His feet planted back to the ground, removing his boxers until he made his way back up to you.

Immediately, your hands reached for his cock—achingly hard and pleading to be inside of you. Your eyes flickered to his orbs as you stroked him lazily, your thumb brushing over his sensitive slit, smearing the pre-cum in circles, only making his own sequence of obscenities fly out of his mouth until he jerked his eyes open, shuddering away the nerves.

“Gonna make me blow my load before I get inside of you.” He swung his head, enclosing his hand around your wrist to pull you away from his length.

You smirked, prompting the hand up to your mouth, sucking his pre-cum off your thumb and toying the tip of it with your tongue. Teasing him and walking the thin line of him absolutely railing you.

“Oh, you’re gonna get it, baby.”

He reached down, guiding his length up and down your core, nudging your clit and getting you to fall back. Just how he wanted it. It was only seconds before he pressed the tip into you, working himself deeper and deeper as your mewls and moans got louder and louder.

The two of you bound up in each other with your arms hung around his neck, nuzzling your face in his neck. And him, balls deep inside of you, feeling your walls contract around him with every shallow thrust he urged towards you, working you open and getting used to his sheer size.

“You f-feel soooo good,” He grunted, his hips moving quicker, leaving just the tip inside of you before crashing back in, lingering there just long enough to feel you tighten around him, then repeating the action all over again.

You were panting, nails leaving crescent-moon impressions all over his shoulders and back, letting your hands roam his body, “So deep, baby…fuck! Feels t-too good.”

The rapid pace had you seeing stars, prompting you to unwrap your hands from his body, allowing your arms to flare out on the bed, finding purchase on the fabric beneath you. He was in your sight, dead center, the haziness enveloping him as he cooed down at you, his grip on your legs leaving to cradle your face.

“I know what you need baby—so fuckin’ tight…know you want to cum. I can feel it, sweetheart.”

His tone wasn’t supposed to be condescending in any way, in fact it was tender. But the way the words left his mouth…oh, it got you going. It had the knot in your belly pulling and stiffening as he spoke so highly of his expertise. Knowing that you knew that he knew just want you desired, because he always did. You couldn’t hold back even if you tried. He knew how to make you feel like you were floating on cloud nine and—

“Oh, my god!”

Your hips raised off the bed, only pressing yourself further onto his length. Your legs were shaking under Steve’s touch. And the pulsing around his cock was enough to let him know that you reached your second climax.

His warm laugh filled the room, his hips halted, only letting your aftershock tremble shift against him as you gently settled back down, ragged breaths leaving your mouth and your hands running across your own skin, attempting to come back to Earth.

“So good,” He kissed your knee sweetly,

“Bet that felt nice, huh, baby?” Another kiss, this time right in the center of your chest.

Your eyes began to open, your jaw trembling as you nodded your head, eyes glasses for him as he kissed your forehead, “Be a good girl and give me one more.”

You’d give him however many he wanted.

“Yes, baby.”

He left you for a moment, leaving you an empty and whining mess, but only for a second as he dragged you to the end of the bed. And just like that, he was guiding your legs over his shoulder, pushing himself back inside of you and starting up the same unrelenting pace that had you in pieces just minutes ago.

“There we go, honey.” Steve praised, watching the scene below him. You licking your fingers and bringing them to your clit, rubbing stiff circles as your half-lidded eyes watched him smile proudly, a little sweat beading at his forehead where his baby hairs stuck.

He braced his hands on either side of your head, the new angle sending him deeper, if that was even remotely possible. Steve could tell you were only a moment away from falling apart for him all over again. He prided himself on being able to get you off over and over again with ease, getting you to the point of cock-drunk, just the way you liked it.

Your moans were babbles of slurred words at this point, telling him how good you were feeling and how good he felt inside of you. The words only spurring him closer to his own release, but you always came first. And so when he noted your hand faltering between the two of you, he instantly sprang into action. Bracing himself above you with one arm and his other replacing the rubbing on your clit.

“Come on baby, s-shit, fucking tight, give it to me baby, c’mon, be my good girl, one more.”

Your mouth opened wide with a silent scream, all the thoughts leaving your head as you surrendered and pulsed around him. It took you a few seconds to draw a clear breath in through your nose, your entire body feeling like a magnetic field as Steve’s thrusts began to stammer as he searched for his own release.

Your arms and legs were numb, but you wanted that closeness to Steve despite him already inside of you. Your legs wrapped around his rear, leaving just enough room for him to thrust deeper and deeper.

“D-don’t stop.”

Your arms found his biceps, drawing all his weight down on you, causing him choke out a grunt, alarmed he might be crushing you, but if anything you held him tighter.

His eyes were dead set on you, never daring to miss the way your face contorted with every move he made. Your lipstick was smeared, mascara smudged, and your hair a tangled mess, but you still looked as ethereal as you did before you got here.

His heartbeat was out of control, and only when you moved your shaking hands to his neck, did you feel his pulse beneath your fingertips, “Cum inside of me.”

Pure seduction weaved into your tone, even after your throat was raw from the moans and screams from your previous orgasms. It had him weak.

“I’m going to, baby.” He assured you, pants leaving his mouth, just seconds away from giving you everything.

“Fill me up.” You continued, purring it against his neck, feeling him shudder and whisper out curses under his breath, “Fill me up, Steve.”

“Fuck!”

A sleepy smile plastered on your face feeling every spurt of his cum and twitch of his cock from within you. Steve sank his forehead to your chest, grazing at your boobs and every inch of your skin as he caught his breath, slowly pulling out of you, surveying the mixture of you and him dripping onto the bedsheets.

“You’re fucking divine, you know that?” He puffed, palms resting on his hips, watching you turn on your side, eyes drifting close as you mumbled.

“I’m gonna wear that dress every day if you keep fucking me like that.” You added, causing the two of you to laugh, and Steve shook his head.

His palms ran up and down your legs, working them to feel some sort of relaxation as your shaking began to die down, “Gonna get a bath started, then bed.”

You nodded, eyes still closed, feeling his weight come off the bed, “I love you, Stevie.”

“I love you too, baby.” He replied, shuffling towards your side of the bed and leaving a passionate smooch on your lips before he headed towards the bathroom where the water began to run.

You had contemplated it multiple times…going back in time to act upon your feelings for Steve sooner, getting to have more moments like this and memories together. But in hindsight, the pinning and anticipation that grew between you and Steve made your love for each other sweeter.

It made you appreciate one another a little more. Learning to take your time and savor every touch and kiss you got to share. Reminding yourselves that you two both waited and longed for one another, which meant that you sure would have to learn how to love each other the way you each preferred.

You two acted upon your feelings at the right time.

Not too soon and not too late.

And so now you got to wake up every next to Steve and fall asleep right beside him every night. No matter where you were, the indentation in the bed always belong to Steve.

Your one and only.

Your lifeline.

And Steve, he was grateful for the same reasons and others as well.

You always saw something in him, even way before you two were an official couple. Back when you were just best friends, you saw the truth in him despite all his horrible attempts at trying to mask it with lies. And you definitely saw the best in him, even when he felt like others didn’t and even himself.

You were his one and only.

His lifeline.

“Stevieeeeeee.” You giggled, sloshing the bubbly water around the tub while he worked his fingertips through your scalp, massaging the shampoo into a lather.

“I told you no getting wine drunk in the bathtub!” Steve pretended to chide, seeing you reach for the wineglass and take another sip of the burgundy you had found in the mini fridge.

You laughed, catching his reflection in the glass, him looking laser concentrated at ensuring your hair was getting washed.

“Want a sip?” You suggested, turning back slightly to hold the glass up to his lips.

He nodded, fingers never withdrawing from your head as he wrapped his lips around the curve of the glass and you tipped it forward, enough for him to get his serving only before pouring it a little too much as it spilt past his lips and into the tub.

He grumbled, swinging his head as you were now a giggling, woozy mess, moving down to place the glass back on the floor as you continued to shriek at the red dripping down his chin.

Steve couldn’t pretend to be annoyed, just cracking his own smile and pulling his hands from your scalp, rinsing them in the water before wiping his mouth clean.

“You’re drunk.” He bopped your nose, smirking as you beamed back at him with a guilty face.

“Tipsy.” You corrected, only before turning your entire body to face him, not caring if the water was spilling outside of the tub, “Kiss?”

“Of course, baby.” He laughed, pressing his lips to yours, not drawing away until you did with a bemused smile on your face.

“Do you think the officiant is still going to be in town tomorrow?” You sought curiously, twirling a strand of his damp hair between your fingers.

Steve furrowed his brows and shrugged, “I’m not too sure…why?”

You bit your lip, pressing your cheek to your shoulder. “We could get married.”

He snickered, nodding his head at the thought of getting hitched to the love of his life on a random Sunda morning, it was so on brand for the two of you, yet it would be better to wait until you were fully sober to talk about it.

“I’d love to marry you, sweetheart, but let’s wash your hair first. Then we can talk about marriage alllll morning tomorrow.”

You beamed like you had won the lottery, frantically nodding your head as you kissed him once more, and got back into the position letting him finish washing your hair and then falling asleep in one another’s arms.

The mark that you and Steve left on each other, whether it’d be literal or figuratively, was something that neither of you could ever try to hide or replicate. It was like a golden tattoo that the two of you had inked on your skin. Something so rare yet fragile—worth so much, but just for the both of you to have.

Everything about you two was inescapable. Not worth trying to run from or trying to disguise.

So maybe at the end of the day, people knew about you and Steve.

But they didn’t know everything.

Not about how you two had carved your initials on his bedpost to mark your relationship.

Not the secret moments you two shared in crowded rooms with no suspicion.

Not the fact that you didn’t want each other as just best friends.

And definitely not that you only bought that dress so he could take it off.

A/N: UMMMMM first off...thanks to taylor for writing this sinful masterpiece that will forever have a chokehold on me. this song is soooo steve coded i just had to indulge and write this. speaking of, this is my first ever attempt at writing smut so please let me know how i did...i couldn't stop laughing cause i suck at explaining shit like this 😭😭😭 anyways, reblogs, likes, tags, and comments are greatly appreciated and i hope you all like this 💘✨💌

officially starting a taglist, so inbox me or leave it in the comments if you'd like to be added!!!

taglist: @translatemunson

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guardkeywolf · 2 years ago

Note

Don't mind me requesting again cuz your writing is good-

Anyway I need some older male reader that is team GHOST from call of duty ghosts and his team is fucking chaotic like they be almost killing them self's and one of them do stabby another like blowing shit up while male reader don't get enough sleep and be a dad on his team but in the end they get the job done

I just want 141 to meet male readers team during a mission and all of them see his team jumping out a window lol

I just need some chaotic shit

Ghost Soldier!Male Reader + Task Force 141

WARNING: INCREDIBLY CRINGE WRITING

While Captain Y/n is on a mission with his team, they are interrupted...

What matters most though is if they are friend or foe...

Honestly, trying to put a whole scenario like this together was fun and challenging at the same time but worth it @gamersansblog !!!

So I hope you enjoy!

"Midnight, Hawk, do either of you have eyes on the target yet?" Y/n asked as he let his eyes sweep over the contents in the room. Falcon followed behind him, silently with his gun raised, clearing the room himself before rejoining Y/n's side.

"No sir, not yet," Midnight's heavy feminine voice replied through the radio.

"Just a whole bunch of shit in here, Captain, unless..." Hawk drawed out slowly.

Y/n knew that tone and quickly tried to intervene, "Hawk, I swear if do what I think..."

"Calm down, sir. Why don't we just turn this place inside out?"

"Hawk..." Falcon warned from beside Y/n as he watched his Captain let out a long sigh in front of him.

"Just a little demolition, sir. That's all... it's not like anyone knows we're here anyway. With the guards dead, I doubt we'll be interrupted, " Y/n could have swore he aged faster as he listened to Hawk's suggestion.

Honestly, Y/n was too tired for this shit. It felt like he was baby sitting 3 kids and he couldn't help but wonder if other groups dealt with the same thing.

There mission was simple, take out the guards, retrieve the files, and get out. Really simple shit. Y/n could do it in his sleep if he wanted too. But noooo, the Higher Ups just had to say his team needed to be with him for this operation.

Plus, Y/n doubted that Falcon could deal with all of them if Y/n left him alone with Midnight and Hawk. So he was forced to bring his crazy pyromaniac of a man, the little assassin that would kill just about anything even when Y/n told her not to, and his only good child.

God, being a father of a Ghost Team was hard.

But even so, Y/n wouldn't change it for the world. His team was just about the best thing that ever happened to him and his career. They were his second chance, his redemption. His everything...

"Alright, Hawk, set up those explosives and see if you can find anything. Midnight, watch his back. Falcon and I are gonna make our way over there..." Y/n commanded.

"Understood, sir," and in the background, he could hear Hawk's sinister little giggle and shook his head at his soldier's antics.

"You sure this is the best idea, sir?" Falcon looked worried about this and Y/n didn't blame him for it. They both knew Hawk could go too far when it came to blowing up things.

Last time they left him alone, half of a building managed to disappear.

Y/n shook his head at the thought, not wanting to even remember that mission again.

When he caught sight of Midnight, the woman was throwing her knives at some random crate she was using as target practice.

"Midnight, Y/n told you to stop doing that. You're gonna mess up your knives and then cry about needing to get new ones," Falcon stressed.

Midnight stuck her tongue out at the man and Y/n chuckled.

"Come on Captain tell her!" Falcon pleaded.

Y/n ignored it and looked towards Hawk.

"You ready Hawk?"

"Annnnnd FINISHED!" the man exclaimed happily as he put the last finishing touches on the bomb.

"Good... get ready to...the hell is that sound?" Y/n turned to see a drone watching them outside the window.

"Shit... someone else is here... we're leaving NOW!" Y/n yelled as he made his way to the windows with their repel gear.

"WHO THE HELL ARE THEY?!" Midnight bellowed next to him.

"Doesn't matter! Hawk on my signal you blow this place to hell!"

"What about the files?!" Hawk asked.

"The Captain and I got them on our way to you two! Now hurry your ass up and get ready to repel!" Falcon hollered at him, quickly putting his gear on.

Once they were ready, Y/n didn't take the chance of the enemy spotting them from the window. If anything, these guys were definitely professionals and had yet to show themselves but it didn't bother Y/n one bit. He knew his team was just as good.

So, he turned to the other window, pulling out his P226 and aiming it at the window.

"Hawk, you remember that scene from Fast and Furious where they jumped from building to building?" Y/n asked.

"Yeah, but we don't have a supercar, sir!"

"Well we can try!" Y/n began to run towards the window, shooting it multiple times until to burst into glass shards and they all jumped out.

"NOW HAWK!"

Y/n heard that lovely sound of the explosion going off behind him as they landed on the roof.

"Hell yeah!" Hawk whooped from beside him.

"We can celebrate later...we still need to find who else is here."

Y/n turned to Midnight first.

"I got an idea..."

"Sir?" She tilted her head in curiosity.

"You see anyone even hostile take them out. Hawk fill this place with traps, take Falcon with you."

Hawk nodded and tapped Falcon's arm before leading them away from Y/n and Midnight.

"Alright, let's go see who the hell were dealing with..."

Midnight sent Y/n a smirk as Y/n moved to take point and as they set out to find the intruders.

It didn't take long when they both heard a cry that only Hawk could make and quickly ran towards his yells. Y/n told Midnight to hide the in the grass, dropping into the dirt himself and aiming his rifle at the newfound men that had Hawk and Falcon in their custody.

He heard the gruff British man's voice question who Hawk was working with, who their team was, but Hawk wasn't one to talk.

Y/n made sure personally that they would never talk. He put then through the same exact situation he had been in now. Cornered by the enemy but except this time not alone.

"Midnight, stay down unless shots are fired. Got it?"

She nodded at him before popping up out of the grass.

"I wouldn't move it I were you..."

The men all turned back to him, guns drawn on him while he held his Honey Badger tightly to his chest.

"Who the hell are you?" The man in the skull mask questioned.

Y/n gave him a look before turning back to the man with the fisher hat on.

"You plan on fishing for my soldiers..." he drawed off.

"Captain Price." He answered.

"Ah...I've heard of you... You and your little Task Force. What was it...141, right?"

"Ye now who the hell are you?" He watched the man's grip tighten on his own gun.

"Captain Y/n and you're going to give me back Hawk and Falcon now." Y/n demanded.

"How do I-" he was cut off by another voice going through his radio.

"Yeah but-... Are you sure, Laswell?"

Y/n looked up when he heard Kate's last name leave the older Brits lips.

"You familiar with Laswell?" Y/n asked as he watched the men untie Hawk and Falcon.

"Seems so...and it seems she knows you as well..." Price commented as he watched Hawk and Falcon walk back to Y/n's side.

"Sir, are you sure Laswell said they're green?" The dark skin man asked the Captian.

"I doubt Laswell would lie to us Gaz. That goes for you two as well," Price said, turning to the skull masked man and the slightly shorter man standing next to him.

"So that's a infamous Ghost...I thought he be taller," Hawk.

"He lots pretty damn tall to me, considering he's standing near shortstack over there..." Falcon said.

The shorter man sent him a glare, obviously hearing Falcon's comment, but before he could say anything, Ghost pulled him back.

"He's not worth it, Soap."

Y/n heard a Scottish accent come from the man as he watched the two talk.

"Oh, sir... You should probably tell-" Falcon was too late to warn him when Midnight sprang up from behind Ghost and Soap.

Y/n sent her the scariest death glare in history before the woman's knife even made it near the two men. Only then did Ghost realize Y/n was glaring but not at him and turned around only to see nothing there. When he turned back, there was now a third soldier standing near him that wasn't there.

"Who she?" He cocked his head towards her.

"Midnight." and he left it there.

Price turned to look at them apologetically before letting out a long sigh.

"Sorry about the mishaps, mates. Seems we got you mixed up with someone else, by the way... you know who blew up that building?"

"We did," Y/n said quickly, watching the man's face change to confusion.

"Why did you-"

"Sorry, but we're kinda on a tight schedule so we'll see yall again sometime soon yeah? Nice meeting you, Captain and your team. Lovely bunch, really! Sir, we have go to go." Falcon said as he pulled Y/n away, the man shaking his own head and chuckling himself, with the other two laughing.

"Kids am I right?" Y/n shouted as he sent a quick nod to the Captain before turning to greet his own team as they made their way towards exfil.

Please feel free to REBLOG with the TAGS if you enjoyed reading this!

Using tags makes it easier to navigate yalls blogs!

Thank you again for reading!

-Guards

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a-writer-on-elm-street · 1 year ago

Note

hey 😳 idk if ur taking requests but if u are could u write brahms w a high energy s/o (fem) who’s really affectionate and also a bit touch starved 🫢 annnnnd not to be cheeky but could u add nsfw 👉👈 i want this man 🥹

brahms with a high energy S/O who's really affectionate and touch starved

a/n: thank you so much for the request, i literally love writing about my favourite wall boy so thank you for this! <3 i'm so sorry it took so long

pairing: brahms x fem!reader

warnings: slight nsfw

brahms has always lived a pretty quiet life, with him being quite reserved and all. he's rarely ever been outside the company of his parents, so it's safe to say it takes time for him to get used to living with you

you still abide by his rules, but he never anticipated you'd be such a handful

after you put him to bed on a night, he'll sometimes hear you bustling around the house, preparing things for the next day

he once caught you sneaking around the kitchen one night, a cereal box held against your chest as you were on your way to retrieve a bottle of water

whilst he sometimes gets annoyed at the constant disturbances at night, there is something that he likes about you. you're extremely affectionate

you're always taking every chance to pull him into a hug, and he never complains about that

brahms loves to cuddle

he especially loves it when you're both lying on the sofa, his head on your chest as you run your fingers through his hair

you also find that you love how much brahms loves affection, because you've spent a large portion of your life alone, desperate for any form of human connection. it wasn't until you found brahms that you found that connection

you practically spend all your time with him, going through his routines of course, but also just spending time together

he sometimes hangs around the kitchen while you cook, leaning against you when you're not dancing around the kitchen that is

he sees you doing that a lot, dancing to music that he isn't familiar with, but he enjoys watching you, because seeing you happy makes him happy

in terms of the two of you being sexual, it surprisingly doesn't take brahms too long to be comfortable with it

he keeps the mask on most of the time though

but when he finally feels safe enough to remove it, he does and it only makes you love him more

you always make sure to hold his face when you kiss him and he still finds himself surprised when he feels your fingers skate along his skin

he's spent his entire life feeling rejected by people, first with everyone thinking he's odd, and then with his own parents caring for a doll the way they should've cared for him

you don't treat him like he's weird or unworthy of being loved

you make sure he knows how much you care about him, be it by the way you're so gentle with him when you're intimate, or when you find yourself inviting him to dance with you in the kitchen

you're both perfect for each other─two lonely people who have found love and acceptance in one another, and you wouldn't have it any other way

[Main Masterlist]

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 8 months ago

Text

03/25/24 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Rhys Darby; Buttons; Cryptid Factor; Cameo; Kudoboard; Articles; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonights Taika

== Rhys Darby ==

Rhys is out and about in Aotearoa!

== New Cryptid Factor ==

EP 90 The Slit Slot Issue on Patreon!

== Convention News ==

Basingstoke Comic Con has announced Rhys will be joining the convention at the Hampshire Court Hotel on 10th-12th May 2024! Want tickets? Check out Basingstokecomiccon.com

== Buttons! ==

Speaking of The Cryptid Factor, did you know Buttons is on Cameo? Fancy a chat?

== Cameo ==

Annnnnd Speaking of Cameos, our besties over at Cameo are keeping up the good fight.

== New Event Calendar ==

Sunday March 31st is Trans Day of Visibility! In celebration we're boosting trans/nonbinary creators, activists, cast/crew members, and allies with the hashtag. We only hang out with #CoolPirates !

== Kudoboards Reminder! =

Thank you to @sharpenyersword on Twitter for setting up ALL THE KUDOBOARDS! The rest of the Kudoboard's will close on the 31st.

Go send the cast and crew some love folks!

David Jenkins

Nathan Foad

Con O'Neill

Ruibo Qian

Leslie F*cking Jones!

Matthew Maher

Vico Ortiz

Samson Kayo

Alex "Ass Tonight" Sherman!

David Fane

Gypsy Taylor

Kristian "Wee John Wondays" Nairn!

Samba "BTS and Baking King" Schutte!

Fellow OFMD Fan Crew!

== Articles ==

Warner Bros. Discovery (NASDAQ:WBD) shareholders have endured a 80% loss from investing in the stock three years ago

== Love Notes ==

Today was a rough one lovelies. I've heard quite a lot of folks mention how hard it was. I know I'm not perfect, and I don't mean to act like I am. I'm flawed, you're flawed, everyone is flawed. It's how we grow and learn from each other that matters. I try to help, and I may not always make the best decisions first, but I am trying to learn for next time. I know you all are too. I hope you give yourself, and other people give you some grace while you learn and grow. You are not one decision you make. You are a hug conglomeration of everything you've learned and you're doing so well. Even on hard days when it feels you're not.

The best thing that helped me get through today was all of you and laughing my ass off with some dear crewmates late into the evening. That meant the world to me. So please, every one of you, go laugh if you can. Find a friend, find a tv show, write yourself a silly joke. Laughing can help you brave the strongest storms.

Sending love crew, I know it's been a tough one. I believe in you, get some rest and hit the ground running tomorrow <3

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Tonight's theme. Blondes! Darby Gif by @warminthewintersblog Taika GIF by @lizzy__Leo on Twitter

#our flag means death #ofmd #rhys darby #taika waititi #save ofmd #daily ofmd recaps #daily ofmd recap #ofmd daily recap #ofmd daily recaps #adopt our crew #long live ofmd #leon kirkbeck #the cryptid factor #cameo

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genshinluvr · 2 years ago

Text

How to (Not) Play Windtrace 3

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: You and the men are officially playing Windtrace again after a while! This time, new people are added to the game, and it makes the game more challenging! Or, at least, that's what you thought until someone found you a minute or two into the game. You all end up changing the venue of the game, and you end up meeting a "new face."

Note: It's been a few months since the last part of How to (Not) Play Windtrace! Here's an update on it, finally! This part is probably not as chaotic as the first two parts, but it's somewhat chaotic 🤔 Since I'm not entirely sure about the possible new map of Windtrace, I made one up for the plot. I was able to type most of this story before a random power outage happened. I have no idea why I always get power outages at the worst times when I have deadlines to meet ._. Anyway, I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: A bucket is thrown at you and Scaramouche (mainly aimed at Scaramouche, but hit both of you), and you fall on your face, slight innuendos?

Word Count: 9.8k

How to (Not) Play Windtrace parts: [1], [2], [3]

Everyone is gathering in front of Dawn Winery. Today is a beautiful day, too beautiful not to go outside and hang out with each other, bask in each other’s presence, and spend some time with one another as a way to bond! That’s what you assumed was going to happen. Until Itto and Childe walk to the front with fowls in their hands, holding the fowls up to their faces before clearing their throats to get everyone’s attention.

“Annnnnd welcome back to round three of Windtrace! I’m your host, Arataki Itto, with my co-host, Chiiiiilde!” Itto announces dramatically into his makeshift microphone; he’s using a fowl as a microphone.

“Last time we played Windtrace, we only had about fifteen people playing. But now, we have ten more people added to the game! Shall I go over some rules for our newcomers?” Childe asks, looking right at you, who also has his own makeshift microphone.

Your eyes widen, and you point at yourself. “Are you wanting me to answer whether we should go over the rules again, or are you implying that I’m a newcomer and need the rules to be explained to me?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at Childe.

Al Haitham rolls his eyes at Childe. “We already know the rules of the game. Even though we weren’t there to play the game while the fifteen of you were, we know the rules,” Al Haitham states, crossing his arms over his chest and exhaling through his nose.

It has been a while since you and the men played Windtrace. You couldn’t help but shudder at the thought of having to find more people in the game. Last time it was Childe that was the hunter, and you’re hoping that you won’t have to be the one to find the other men in the game. Imagine having to find twenty-five people in Windtrace! A nightmare.

While you’re excited to play Windtrace again, since the four Harbingers are now joining in on the game, you’re a little bit nervous. Just the thought of a Harbinger searching for you is a nightmare fuel, and you’re not mentally or emotionally prepared to be chased by any of the Harbingers.

“This feels like a detective game and hide-and-go-seek rolled up into one game. I’m excited to play this game and put my detective skills to the test!” Heizou says, clasping his hands together with a big smile on his face.

Aether crosses his arms over his chest and looks at each man skeptically. “How did you all play Windtrace last time we weren’t here?” Aether asks.

“We played like how Wintrace is supposed to be played! It was quite eventful, and it’s cute to see this cutie over here get flustered,” Childe says, reaching over to you and pinching your cheeks lightly.

You scoff and swat Childe’s hands away from your face, feeling your face become hot under each man’s gaze. You cross your arms over your chest and look away from them, your nose sticking up in the air as you let out a “hmph!” while Childe and Itto look over at each other with a nervous laugh, hoping that you wouldn’t expose them of their lies.

Pierro looks at you with interest. “Oh? What’s with the reaction, little one?” Pierro asks, raising an eyebrow at you for your peculiar reaction to Childe’s comment.

Dottore leans over to Pierro and whispers loudly to the older man behind his hand. “Judging by [Y/N]’s reaction, it seems like Childe may be lying.”

“Care to tell us why you reacted that way after hearing Childe’s response?” Capitano asks, turning to look over at you.

“Gladly!” You reply sassily, turning to face the men while ignoring Childe’s silent pleas. “In the game of Windtrace, there are four players. One person is the hunter, and three other people are the rebels, correct?” You raise your eyebrows.

Pantalone tilts his head to the side and nods his head slowly. “That is correct.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Well!” You clap your hands and look at every man that played Windtrace with you last time. “I was the hunter, and all of them were the rebels. Yes, that is correct! One hunter and fifteen rebels! In round two, I was the rebel, and there were fifteen hunters that I had to search for,” you explain, narrowing your eyes at each man.

“Well, that sounds unfair,” Tighnari says, puckering his lips while brushing the back of his ears.

You nod your head with a small glare on your face. “It was! But it was actually fun playing Windtrace that way because imagine being chased by fifteen attractive men,” you said, covering your hot cheeks with both of your hands.

“I think you and I have a different definition of attractive because….” Kaveh looks around at each man and makes a face. “I think you can do better, but I’m the exception, of course,” Kaveh says, crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk on his face.

“I am now starting to see why [Y/N] wants to fight you all the time,” Venti says, giving Kaveh a fake smile and letting his lyre disappear in thin air.

“So, this game…. Are we going to play it as it is, or are we going to play it like how you all played it last time?” Cyno asks, raising his eyebrows at you, Childe, and Itto.

You sigh and run your hands through your hair. “We should just play it like how we played Windtrace last time. If we were to play the game how it originally is, it would take a while for us to get through a few rounds because I know how competitive some of you are,” you said, looking over at Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Al Haitham, Kaveh, Xiao, and Scaramouche.

You blink when there’s a space where you thought Scaramouche would be standing. You look around the crowd of men, searching for the indigo-haired man. You hum to yourself, prop your hands on your hips and look at every man over and over again, making sure to make eye contact with each of them. After scanning your eyes through the crowd, you have concluded that Scaramouche is missing from the group, and you have no idea where he is.

“What are you looking for?” Thoma asks, looking at you curiously.

You rub your temples and sigh. “Scaramouche is missing, and I have no idea if I have seen him today or not,” you said.

“I saw him today before we left the abode, but I did not know that he wasn’t at Dawn Winery with us the entire time,” Ayato says.

You hear an overconfident laugh coming from behind you, startling you. You turn around to scold Scaramouche for scaring you, only to feel your breath get caught in your throat when you see how close he’s standing to you. You take a step back and look at him from head to toe, completely flabbergasted at his new makeover.

“Your clothes! They’re new,” you said, looking at the Indigo-haired man with wide eyes. “And not purple at all,” you add.

“I needed a new change of clothes. Something that doesn’t tie me down to Inazuma and the Raiden Shogun herself,” Scaramouche says, crossing his arms over his chest with a huff.

Your eyes fall on the glowing anemo vision. “You have an anemo vision. Since when?” You ask, looking back up at Scaramouche’s face.

“The vision looks recent,” Albedo mutters, his gaze training on the anemo vision hanging beside Scaramouche’s chest.

You continue to stare at the anemo vision, questioning if Scaramouche even had an electro vision in the first place or if he only has the power of electro because he was created to be the Raiden Shogun’s puppet. You snap out of your thoughts and slap yourself across the face.

“Why did you slap yourself?!” Xiao exclaims, looking at you with wide eyes.

You laugh and scratch the back of your head. “Sorry, I was thinking way too hard and questioning too many things that I had to find a way to stop myself from overthinking the smallest things,” you said, rubbing your sore cheek.

Diluc approaches you and cups your face, tilts your head up and to the side to inspect the cheek you slapped. Diluc sighs and releases your face. “Your cheek is beginning to swell up. We should put some ice on it for the swelling to go down,” Diluc says, rubbing the painful area with his gloved thumb.

Kaeya takes a step forwards and pulls Diluc back with a sly smile on his face. “Looks like this is the job for me, a cryo vision holder,” Kaeya says.

Kaeya stands in front of you and cups both of your cheeks in his hands; you feel his hands grow cold, making you sigh in contentment and lean further into his touch. You peek from Kaeya’s arm and continue what you were doing previously: stare at Scaramouche and look at the little details of his newest clothes and vision.

“While Kaeya is compressing [Y/N]’s swollen cheek, shall we talk about who’s going to be the hunter and who’s going to be the rebel?” Dainsleif asks.

“Who was the hunter last time? We can start this round with the people who played as the rebels last time,” Kazuha suggests, releasing the leaf into the air and letting it get blown away by the wind.

Zhongli furrows his eyebrows. “That’s a good question. Who was the hunter last time we played Windtrace?” Zhongli asks, stroking his chin with his thumb and index finger.

“It’s been a while since we’ve played the game. Almost a year ago, I believe,” Baizhu mutters, propping one hand on his hip while stroking his chin with the other hand. Your eyes widen, and you look at the men around you in disbelief. Has it really been almost a year since the last game of Windtrace?

“How are we going to remember who was the hunter in the previous round of Windtrace?” Gorou asks, furrowing his eyebrows while scratching the back of his ears with a confused look on his face.

A moment of realization hits you; you clap your hands and raise your hand up in the air. “I was the hunter in the last round!” You said, nodding your head. “Took a moment for me to remember, but I was the hunter in the previous round, and every single one of you,” you trail off, pointing at the men that were previously present in the last game of Windtrace, “Were hiding on top of Dawn Winery while Itto and Ayato were having a beetle fight,” you said.

“Oh, yeah! I remember now!” Itto laughs, nodding his head before his smile slips off. “I can’t believe that I lost that round of beetle battle,” he mutters to himself, furrowing his eyebrows.

Heizou raises his hands to grab everyone’s attention. “Okay, so now that we know who was the hunter in the previous round of Windtrace, does that mean all of us,” he gestures to all of the men around him, “are hunters now, and [Y/N] is the rebel?”

Gorou nods his head. “Yes, that is correct, Heizou! Although, last time I remember, Dainsleif didn’t play the second round of Windtrace with us,” Gorou says, tapping on his chin.

Everyone looks over at the blond man, who blinks back at them in response. Right, you almost forgot about how Dainsleif didn’t join in on Windtrace and tagged along with you while you searched high and low for the other men that participated in Windtrace. Not to mention, you also remembered how Dainsleif and Childe would bicker with each other while you tried to search for the others.

Thinking back on it now, you couldn’t help but visibly cringe at how you acted when you played Windtrace with the men for the first and second times. You clear your throat and try to distract yourself from the cringey memories of the first and second rounds of Windtrace.

“Will you be joining us this time, Dainsleif?” You ask, giving the blond man a polite yet awkward smile.

Dainsleif sighs and closes his eyes for a brief moment before opening his eyes again. “It seems like I will be joining this round of Windtrace,” Dainsleif says, nodding his head reluctantly.

“You don’t have to join us if you don’t want to! I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t want to do,” you said.

“Yeah! You hear the bunny. You don’t have to join if you don’t want to,” Dottore says, approaching you from behind and propping his right arm on your left shoulder, giving Dainsleif a smirk.

Pantalone sighs dramatically and props his left arm on your right shoulder, and rests his cheek on top of your head. “It would be a shame if you didn’t join, but it’s okay; the others and I make up for your missing presence,” Pantalone says, reaching over to your cheek and squeezing them lightly.

“I’ll join,” Dainsleif says, shooting a glare at Pantalone and Dottore.

He approaches you three and smacks Dottore and Pantalone’s arms off your shoulders before pulling you away from the two of them. Dottore and Pantalone smirk and look over at each other with amused looks on their faces, knowing they successfully got under Dainsleif’s skin.

“Now that’s settled,” Kaeya glances at you with a closed eye smile. “You should start finding a hiding place, bunny. We’ll give you a fifteen-second head start,” Kaeya pats the top of your head.

You nod your head nervously. You’re not looking forward to having twenty-five people search for you; the thought of that many people searching for you makes you nervous, but you’re also excited to see who will be the first person to find you! As long as it’s not one of the Harbingers because they are terrifying. Kazuha gives you a signal to start searching for a good hiding spot, and you begin to run as if your life depends on it (it kind of does).

To be completely honest, you have no idea where you’re going to hide, and you’re praying to whatever archon is listening for you not to be found so easily. You’re not entirely sure if you can hide inside of Dawn Winery, and even if you can, you don’t want to distract the maids from their jobs because you’re playing hide-and-go-seek with almost thirty attractive men searching for you.

So, you end up choosing to hide in a wine keg behind Dawn Winery. Before you jump into the empty wine keg, you push the wine keg close to the stack of barrels in the building. You hop into the wine keg and hug your legs close to your chest, praying that you won’t be found so easily. But with your hiding spot and where you choose to hide in, you have an inkling feeling that someone is going to find you quickly all because of your hiding spot. And by someone, you mean Diluc himself since the man knows the winery really well, and perhaps maybe even Kaeya is going to be the first one to find you in this round of Windtrace. Who knows!

“Please let me last for this round,” you whisper to yourself, burying your face into your knees.

You’re worried that if you look up from the wine keg, someone is going to be staring down at you. You’re not prepared to see who’s ever face is going to pop up. You hear a faint whirring getting closer to where you’re hiding. Since you’re not familiar with the noise, you continue to keep your head down, hoping that it’ll pass by and not give you a mini heart attack.

Something drops down beside the wooden wine keg you’re hiding in, and footsteps approach your hiding spot. You shut your eyes and cover your face with your hands as if it would provide you some invisibility.

“Really? This is the best you could do?” A voice scoffs.

You lower your hands from your face and slowly look up to where the voice came from. Scaramouche stares down at you with his eyebrows raised, and the corners of his lips lift into a faint smirk. Scaramouche leans on the wine keg, propping his head up with his right hand as he continues to gaze down at you.

“How did you find me?” You squeak, swallowing the lump in your throat.

At least it wasn’t one of the four Harbingers that had found you in your hiding spot. While Scaramouche is just as intimidating as the other four Harbingers, you would much rather have him find you instead of the others.

Scaramouche reaches down and starts to pet your hair with his left hand. “I was floating around, and I saw your cute little head peeking from the wine keg,” Scaramouche answers, smiling down at you.

You deflate, let out a sigh of defeat, and slowly get out of your hiding spot. “So that whirring sound was you this entire time,” you said.

Scaramouche nods his head and holds his hand out for you to take. You grab his hand and step out of the wine keg, dusting the spiderwebs and dusting off your behind and clothes. Just when you’re about to say something, you and Scaramouche hear someone approaching the area where the both of you are standing.

Scaramouche’s face pinches up with annoyance, and he picks you up bridal style without hesitation, levitates in the air, and begins to float away with you in his arms. You wrap your arms around Scaramouche’s shoulders and look down to see Itto and Xiao glaring up at you and Scaramouche—mainly at Scaramouche.

“This isn’t part of Windtrace, puppet!” Xiao hollers, his hands clenching at his sides as he glares up at Scaramouche, who lets out a victorious laugh.

Itto scoffs loudly and props his hands on his hips. “Hey, “Wanderer,” get your ass down here and play the game fair and square!” Itto announces, running after you and Scaramouche.

“I already won this round as the hunter! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my prize elsewhere where we can be alone,” Scaramouche announces before letting out a burst of boisterous laughter. Scaramouche slowly floats away from Dawn Winery as if he is doing it to show off that he won by catching you before anyone else can.

Aether groans and smacks his head. “I knew this was going to happen the minute he gets that damn anemo vision,” Aether grumbles.

“Are we just going to let Scaramouche go with [Y/N] in his arms? It doesn’t seem fair that he won this round so fast and decided to float away with [Y/N] in his arms,” Heizou says, staring up at Scaramouche.

You look up at Scaramouche and poke him. “We’re not actually going to stray away from Dawn Winery, are we?” You ask, continuing to cling to him, fearing that he might drop you to the ground.

Scaramouche sighs and slowly flies to where everyone has gathered in front of Dawn Winery, smirking at the men below you two. The men did not look happy that Scaramouche was the first one to find you and that he almost decided to leave all of them at Dawn Winery with you in his arms. Perhaps everyone should find another location to play Windtrace instead of playing it at Dawn Winery.

Al Haitham leans toward Zhongli, muttering into Zhongli’s ears. “I’m not sure if this is the main location where you all played Windtrace previously, but I believe that we should choose another location to play the game,” said Al Haitham.

Zhongli nods and lets out a quiet sigh, staring up at where Scaramouche is floating with you in his arms, holding you hostage. “I agree. We played Windtrace at Dawn Winery a few times already. Most people must know the layout of the winery by now,” Zhongli murmurs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Okay, you won this round, Scaramouche. Now, release [Y/N] so we can continue the next round of Windtrace,” Ayato says, shielding his eyes from the sun as he gazes up at you and Scaramouche.

Scaramouche lets out a loud hum as he tilts his head to the side, contemplating whether he should let you go or not. You feel Scaramouche tighten his grip around you before looking back at the rest of the men with a smirk, shaking his head.

“Nah, I don’t think I’ll do that,” Scaramouche says, pouting at the men mockingly. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’ll be elsewhere,” Scaramouche announces, turning around and levitating away from the group with a triumphant smile on his face.

Without thinking, Itto reaches for the nearest thing he can get and grabs it. Itto looks up at where you and Scaramouche are, quickly calculating the distance and height, and throws the wooden bucket at Scaramouche as hard as he can. The bucket flies and ends up hitting you and Scaramouche in the head hard, causing Scaramouche to lose his balance and fall.

Scaramouche ends up taking the fall the heaviest as the both of you crash into the lush grapevines of Dawn Winery and onto the ground. Scaramouche groans and glares over at Itto, who laughs nervously while rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile on his face. You rub the area where the bucket had hit you and wince when your fingers make contact with that area.

“How many times have I gotten injured while playing this damn game?” You ask yourself, still sprawled on top of Scaramouche.

Just when you’re about to get off of Scaramouche, the men rush over to you and Scaramouche. Thoma and Kaveh grab both of your arms and pull you off of Scaramouche, checking you to make sure whether you have sustained an injury or not from the fall.

“Itto, you should’ve been more careful when you threw that bucket!” Thoma exclaims after his eyes land on the faint bruising near your hairline.

Kaveh rolls his eyes. “I think you meant that Itto shouldn’t be throwing buckets in general, Thoma. After all, it injured both Scaramouche and [Y/N],” Kaveh says.

Kaveh turns to face Scaramouche to help him off the ground. Scaramouche scoffs and smacks Kaveh’s hand away from his face before getting up and dusting his clothes with a scowl on his face. Kaveh scrunches his face up and rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest with a soft huff of breath.

The four Harbingers step in front of Scaramouche and looks down at Scaramouche; they don’t look too pleased with Scaramouche attempting to scurry away with you in his arms, leaving them “stranded” at Dawn Winery. Baizhu pushes through the four Harbingers to check up on both you and Scaramouche.

“You took the fall the hardest, Scaramouche. The least you can do is let me check on you,” Baizhu says.

Scaramouche sighs in defeat and proceeds to let Baizhu assess his condition while you sit to the side with the others. While you’re waiting for Baizhu to be finished with Scaramouche’s checkup, you begin fixing your clothes and dusting the dirt and grass off your clothes.

“Itto, I understand that you don’t want Scaramouche to float away from Dawn Winery with [Y/N] in his arms, but please do not throw things at people,” Tighnari says.

Itto pouts and plops on the ground beside you, latching himself to you while resting his head on your shoulder, almost poking you in the face with his horns. You move your head out of the way and pat Itto’s head lightly, letting the man continue to cling to you with a pout remaining on his face.

Cyno sighs and shakes his head. “You would think that an adult like Itto would know that,” Cyno says, looking over at Itto from the corner of his eyes.

“Hehe, maybe Scaramouche getting an anemo vision was a mistake,” Venti says. “Even though archons don’t hand out visions….” He trails off, puckering his lips.

“Did you really think that you could leave the area with [Y/N] in your arms? How pathetic, Balladeer,” Pierro sneers, glaring down at Scaramouche, who scowls at the title that was given to him while he was still part of the Fatui Harbingers.

Kazuha chuckles softly and shakes his head. “Let’s not start trouble right now, you two. I’m sure [Y/N] wouldn’t appreciate it,” Kazuha says, looking over at you.

“See, Kazuha gets it, which I’m not surprised. Why can’t you understand that, Pierro?” You ask, locking gazes with Pierro. “Also, don’t call Scaramouche ‘Balladeer.’ He doesn’t want to be associated with that name anymore. Let’s respect his wishes,” you said, getting up from your spot.

A small smile appears on Scaramouche’s face. He looks over at Pierro and sticks his tongue out at the first Harbinger, and blows a raspberry while pulling the top of his right cheek down. Albedo walks up to you and cups your face in his hands. You stare up at Albedo as he inspects the bruising on your face close to your hairline.

“We’re going to need to put ice on that bruise,” Albedo says, turning to look at the others. “How many times have [Y/N] hurt themself today?” Albedo asks, releasing you from his grasp and letting his hands fall to his side.

Diluc sighs and rubs his temples. “This would be the second time, but I believe that [Y/N] injuring themself once is one too many,” Diluc says.

“You know, I am prone to accidents, and that’s okay! Now, can we please continue the game, or are we ending it here for today?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

“We will continue onto the next round, but I heard that the former Geo archon and the Scribe wants to find another location to play Windtrace,” Capitano says, gesturing over to Zhongli and Al Haitham.

The way Zhongli and Al Haitham are whispering to each other reminds you of those gossiping aunties at family gatherings. You’ve been a victim and the subject of your gossiping aunties way too many times. Zhongli and Al Haitham nod their heads at Capitano’s comment. You pucker your lips and tap on your chin.

“I don’t mind if we play Windtrace at another location, but do any of you have a location in mind?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at the men while subconsciously rubbing the area where the bucket hit you. Itto gets up from the ground and latches to you again, resting his chin on your head before placing a light kiss on the forming bruise.

Dottore raises his hand. “I, in fact, do have a place in mind,” Dottore says, smiling widely.

Everyone around you (except for the other three Harbingers) looks at Dottore skeptically. You’re not entirely sure what place Dottore has in mind for the next round of Windtrace, but you have a small feeling that you’re not going to like it one bit.

“Why are we in an abandoned factory, Dottore?” You ask, looking at Dottore bewildered.

Pantalone smiles and pats your head. “You all have played Windtrace at Dawn Winery quite often to the point where all of you remembered the layout of the area. To add a little challenge to the game, Dottore chose the abandoned factory to play Windtrace,” Pantalone explains.

“Great! Let’s choose a complicated area for me to explore while you all hide in plain sight,” you said sarcastically. “Before we start this round, please don’t try to jump out and scare me,” you said, pointing at each person present in the room with you.

Childe lets out a sound of disappointment. “Aw, but where’s the fun in that?” Childe whines, his bottom lip jutting out while he bats his eyelashes at you.

“Childe, I swear, if you try to scare me in any way, I will revoke your cuddling privileges,” you threaten, narrowing your eyes at the ginger-haired male. Childe lets out an audible gasp and stares at you in shock, pressing his hand against his chest as if you have wounded him.

Heizou turns to look at Gorou, his eyes wide. “I would hate to have my cuddling privileges taken away,” Heizou whispers to Gorou, who nods his head in agreement.

Aether lets out a laugh and shakes his head. “Of course, Childe is going to be the first one to get his cuddling privileges revoked,” Aether smirks and nudges Childe with his elbow. Childe mutters and swats Aether.

Cyno nods his head. “No surprise there,” Cyno says. A smirk appears on Cyno’s face when Childe looks over at him with his mouth agape with shock and hurt.

“Okay!” You clap your hands, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Let’s start the game now! You all go hide,” you said, covering your eyes with both of your hands.

Kaeya trots over to you and leans his face close to yours, his warm breath fanning the side of your face, making you flinch. “Remember, no peeking,” Kaeya whispers, pressing a quick kiss on your cheeks before searching for a place to hide.

“Damn him and his suave moves,” You mumble under your breath, waiting for the men to search for a place to hide.

While you’re waiting for the men to find their hiding spot, you would often hear them bicker with one another over who’s going to be hiding in a specific area. You hear a loud slap and a yelp that accompanies it, making you sigh and shake your head in disapproval.

“You idiot! Did you not learn your lesson from the previous round!?” You hear Xiao yell from a distance, his voice echoing throughout the abandoned factory.

Itto whines and rubs the area where Xiao has smacked him. “Hey! It was the only good hiding spot I found! The others already claimed their spot,” Itto replies, pouting at Xiao.

Kazuha chuckles and peeks from his hiding spot. “If you don’t want to get your head stuck in the bucket again like last time, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Kazuha says.

You sigh and slowly pull your hands down from your eyes, turning to face them. You hear Itto start to panic almost immediately when he sees you pull your hands down from your face, slowly turning to face the direction where the commotion was coming from. Even though your hands aren’t covering your eyes, your eyes are still closed.

“Don’t open look yet! I haven’t found a spot to hide yet!” Itto screams, searching high and low for a new area to hide in.

“Just find a spot to hide already, dammit! We don’t have all day!” Kaveh screams from across the room, his voice bouncing off the walls.

Tighnari and Gorou groan, covering their ears with their hands and peeking from their hiding spots with a glare on their face. All of the shouting and voices bouncing off the factory’s walls are hurting Gorou and Tighnari’s ears. Did the men suddenly forget that there are people in the factory is better hearing than human ears?

“Hey, can we not shout in the factory? Some of us have sensitive hearing,” Tighnari says, rubbing his ears gently.

Gorou nods, even though he knows that Tighnari doesn’t see it from where he’s hiding. “Yeah! Please don’t shout and be mindful of others,” Gorou pleads.

Al Haitham rolls his eyes, pressing his head against the wall where he’s hiding and crosses his arms over his chest. “Just pick a spot and hide. Windtrace is just a game. Nothing is on the line,” Al Haitham says.

After a few minutes of them bickering back and forth, Itto is finally able to find a spot to hide in the factory. Silence falls, and you hear nothing but your own breathing—and maybe your heart beating against your ears from how silent it is in the factory.

“Okay,” you speak up. “I’m going to take that silence as a sign that all of you have found your hiding spots,” you announce.

No one replies to you. You let your hands fall to your side and open your eyes. Now that you’re alone in the factory, you notice that it’s bigger than you thought it was. The ceiling is about fifty feet tall; there are rusted stairs that lead to many dark rooms, and rusting and rotting machinery sits idly by in the room you’re currently in.

“This is creepier than I thought it was going to be,” you think to yourself.

You swallow your fears and begin walking around the vacant factory, searching for the first person that might show up. Because of how big the factory is, you’re not entirely sure if you’ll be able to find someone within a minute or two of Windtrace.

The lights are dim in the central area you’re in, and some parts of the factory are blacked out; you’re a little hesitant to check those rooms to see if one of the men is hiding in there. You’re not fond of the dark; you have read way too many horror stories to know what happens in the dark. Especially at a place like the building you and the others are currently in. You do not like how quiet it is; silence is pleasant sometimes, but when you’re in a vacant factory with almost thirty people, the silence is nearly unsettling.

Even though you want to avoid the second-floor area, you want to get it over with and start looking for people from the top and then to the bottom floor. You hug your trembling hands to your chest, and with each step you take up the stairs, you can hear how loud your heartbeat is getting against your ears.

“This is stupid. If this was a horror movie right now, I’m the dumb character that is walking towards their demise,” you grumble to yourself, reaching for a crowbar that is resting beside a doorway. You might as well keep yourself armed with a weapon rather than having to use your bare hands to defend yourself just in case you run into someone that isn’t a part of your Windtrace group.

You walk into the dark room and begin to swing your crowbar around in front of you, making sure that you’re not bumping into anything or anyone. The door behind you suddenly slams shut, startling you. You freeze in your spot and tense up when you hear footsteps approaching you. You hold the crowbar up in front of you, shutting your eyes tightly and whispering silent prayers to an archon that whoever is in the same room as you is one of the men.

“Aw, there’s nothing to be afraid of, sweet thing,” a voice purrs into your ears. The person’s warm breath fans your neck, making you shrink into yourself like a turtle, letting out a small squeak while tightening your grip around the crowbar.

“Aw, a little weapon? Do you really think that can save you from me?” He chuckles. Your eyes are shut, but you can tell that he is circling you.

You shrug your shoulders meekly. “I don’t know. Do you want me to test it out on you?” You whisper, your eyebrows knitting together while you continue to tighten your grip on the crowbar until you feel your fingernails dig into the palm of your hands.

The man chuckles and pats your head; the sudden contact startles you, causing you to almost violently flinch back from the person’s touch. You hate it when people you’re not familiar with act buddy-buddy with you and place their hands on you, especially if that person is a man.

“How cute. Come on, [Y/N], don’t be scared of me now. You know who I am,” The man says nonchalantly.

You shake your head and continue to keep your eyes shut. You’re not even sure if it’s worth keeping your eyes closed when the room you and this mysterious person are in is pitch black. You suddenly see lights flicker behind your closed eyes. The man stops in front of you and leans in close to your face.

The man whispers, “Open your eyes. Don’t be afraid.”

You gulp and shake your head. “I will not open my eyes,” you said.

The man huffs and stands up tall, propping his hands on his hips. “And why not?” The man demands; you can hear that he’s beginning to grow frustrated and impatient with you.

“Because what if you’re ugly? You think I want to traumatize myself? No, thank you,” you sassed.

The man scoffs. “Oh please, I look like one of your boyfriends,” The man says arrogantly.

You snort loudly. “You wish! What kind of sick joke is this, you weirdo? I have a game to get back to if you excuse me,” You said. Without opening your eyes, you turn around and begin to use your crowbar as a guide. There is no way you’re going to look at the strange person that claims to look like one of your boyfriends. It’s weird and unsettling. The man huffs and marches towards your retreating form, blocking the exit by standing in front of it with his arms over his chest, glaring down at you.

“I will not let you leave this room until you open your eyes,” The man states.

You groan. “Fine! If you don’t leave me alone after this, I’m going to hit you with my crowbar!” You hiss. You open your eyes and immediately glare up at the person, only for your face to drop, and you become almost as white as a ghost; the color drains from your face. “What the fuck,” you whisper. You drop the crowbar, and it rattles loudly on the cement floor of the facility; the sound of the crowbar hitting the ground rings in your ears.

The man looks like Dottore, but he’s not Dottore— if that makes sense. The only difference is the mask shows the corner part of his jaws and mouth. You can see his red eyes staring down at you, clearly enjoying the reaction he got out of you.

“Now, was that so hard?” He pouts at you mockingly before chuckling to himself. “Before you scream your head off and attempt to beat me with that crowbar of yours, I am one of Dottore’s segments.” He introduces himself, bowing to you dramatically.

You flinch as if you’re clutching your pearls and squatting down, trying to reach for the crowbar without taking your eyes away from (one of) Dottore’s segments. “You know, you look like Dottore, but you don’t look like him,” you said, squinting at the strange man in front of you.

Dottore’s segment rolls his eyes and runs his fingers through his hair. “You’re not the brightest, are you?” He asks, raising his eyebrows at you.

“I’m going to hit you now,” you declared. You swing the crowbar around and slowly make your way toward him. “And once I’m done hitting you, I will continue my search for my men, and perhaps the real Dottore will drag you back to his lab and get rid of you,” you smile at him.

Dottore’s clone lets out an amused laugh, his shoulders bouncing. “Oh, please. You really think that he will get rid of one of his segments because his plaything says so?” Dottore clone asks, smirking at you.

You tilt your head to the side and pretend to think for a moment. “I don’t know. But I guess we shall wait and see,” You said, lightly hitting the palm of your hand with the crowbar. “Speaking of Dottore, does he know that one of his segments is here?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at Dottore’s clone.

Dottore’s clone smirks and begins to chuckle to himself. “Do you think Dottore would care about me being here right now?” He asks.

“Yes,” you deadpan. “Since you’re a clone, I’m going to test out how durable you are,” you said, stopping in front of Dottore’s clone.

The clone suddenly bursts out laughing; his laughter fills the room and sends unsettling chills down your spine. You’ve heard Dottore laugh before, but whenever his clone does it, it sounds disturbing and makes you feel uneasy. Without a second thought, you began swinging the crowbar at him.

While you’re locked in the room with Dottore’s clone, the men assume that you purposely slam the doors shut to get them to come out from the places they’re hiding in. They peek their heads from their hiding spots and stare at the closed room with questionable looks.

“Do you think [Y/N] did that on purpose to lure us out from our hiding spots?” Ayato asks.

Zhongli shrugs his shoulders. “Not that I know of, but they’ve been in that room for a while,” Zhongli replies, refusing to take his eyes away from the door.

“This is a bad idea; playing Windtrace in an abandoned factory isn’t a smart idea,” Thoma says, running his hands through his messy blond hair while pressing his lips into a thin line.

“Why did we agree to play Windtrace in a vacant factory? From my perspective, I see nothing but trouble waiting to happen,” Baizhu says, letting out a huff of breath, closing his eyes, and resting his head against the wall behind him.

Diluc leaves his hiding spot and slowly walks to the center of the room where you once stood. Diluc looks up to the room that you have stepped into, anxiousness biting at him, and sweat begins to collect in his gloves as he waits for you to leave the room.

“Something’s not right,” Diluc mutters, noticing a light flickering in the room that was once pitch black. One by one, each man left their hiding spot and gathered around near Diluc in the middle of the facility.

Pierro turns to look at Tighnari and Gorou. “Both of you have a keen sense of hearing; can you two hear what’s going on?” Pierro asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

Gorou and Tighnari look over at each other and then back at the men nervously.

“While the door slamming shut may seem like a prank at first, I did hear [Y/N] talk to someone,” Gorou says, letting out a shaky sigh.

Tighnari nods his head. “Now, many of you may assume that [Y/N] could be talking to themself, but they’re not. They’re not alone in that room,” Tighnari says.

Capitano glares at Gorou and Tighnari underneath his mask. “And you didn’t inform us about it the minute you heard someone else speak?” Capitano demands, causing Gorou to tense up and glare up at the tall Harbinger.

“Let’s not start something right now,” Al Haitham says, stepping in front of Tighnari and Gorou, glaring at Capitano.

“Al Haitham is right. What we need to focus on right now is making sure that [Y/N] gets out of that room and is safe,” Cyno speaks up, his eyes trained on the closed door.

“Okay, then, who goes up the stairs first and leads the way?” Aether asks, looking at the men with his eyebrows quirked up.

Back in the room, you sigh and slump down against the wall, letting the crowbar fall to the ground. You expected Windtrace to go smoothly with little to no problems, and yet here you are. Dottore’s clone stands in front of you and smiles down at you almost mockingly. You glared up at him and kicked his legs.

“Don’t look at me like that with your beady eyes,” you grumble. “I did as you told, and that is to look at you. Now you’re refusing to let me go? How absurd,” you scoff, rolling your eyes.

Dottore’s clone squats in front of you and tilts your head up by the chin, inspecting the littlest details on your face. You scrunch your face up and move your face out of his grasp. He has no right to touch you, and yet he boldly did it again? Men like Dottore’s clone really have nothing but audacity.

He smirks and stands back up. “You’re cute, feisty even. I can see why he wants to clone you,” Dottore’s clone says, walking off.

“Wait, what?” You get off the ground as quickly as you can. “You want to run that by me again?” you ask, raising your eyebrows at Dottore’s clone. Alarms are going off in your head, and you’re not entirely sure if the clone was saying that just to mess with you or if he actually means it.

“No, no, you have a round of Windtrace to get back to. I have kept you in this room long enough,” Dottore’s clone says, waving off your question nonchalantly. You can see the corner of his lips curving up into a faint smirk.

You grumble to yourself and walk to the door, pushing by Dottore’s clone and opening the door, only to see the men with their weapons drawn out, ready to break the door down. You stare at the men, and they stare back at you with wide eyes. You look at their weapons and their weapons quickly disappearing in thin air.

You rub the back of your neck. “Sorry to keep you guys waiting for a while. Something was keeping me locked in here for quite a while and would not let me leave,” you said, turning around to glare at Dottore’s clone, only to see that you were alone. “What the—” you did a double take.

You lean against the doorframe and close your eyes for a moment. “Am I going insane?” You ask yourself, slowly opening your eyes.

Kaveh walks to you and grabs you by the shoulders, looking at you in the eyes before letting his gaze wander around your body, making sure that you’re not injured in any way. “Who was in the room with you?” Kaveh asks.

You sigh in defeat and let your head hang low, your forehead resting on Kaveh’s chest. “You guys might think I’m crazy,” you murmur, letting Kaveh pull you into his arms and wrap his arms around your shoulders.

Heizou frowns and places a hand on your back. “We won’t. Tighnari and Gorou heard the person’s voice from afar,” Heizou says, standing beside you and Kaveh.

You look over at Dottore nervously. “You’re not cloning me, are you?” You ask.

The air around everyone suddenly shifts, and everyone can see the color draining from Dottore’s face. Dottore laughs and crosses his arms over his chest as if he is trying to stay cool, calm, and collected. All you’re hoping is that the Dottore clone is lying to you and only said that to get a reaction out of you and that his words are completely false.

“Whoever told you that is completely false. I’m not conducting any cloning experiments at the moment, nor am I conducting any experiments as of now,” Dottore says.

Pantalone looks over at you, eyebrows raised. “Who claimed that Dottore is cloning you? It’s not that I don’t believe you, but we need to know who it is to prevent them from spreading lies,” Pantalone explains.

You scratched your neck and puckered your lips for a second. “It’s one of Dottore’s segments. He was here with me the entire time and kept me locked in this room with him. He didn’t do anything weird to me, don’t worry,” you said. “I’m just disappointed that he disappeared without letting me hit him with that dang crowbar,” you said, pointing over at where the crowbar was lying.

Thoma looks at Dottore, eyes wide. “I thought you destroyed your segments as an agreement with the Dendro archon,” Thoma says, narrowing his eyes at Dottore.

“Is it possible for one of the segments to escape before getting destroyed?” Venti whispers.

Dottore sighs and nods his head. “I did destroy the segments as an agreement with the Dendro archon, but it seems like one of them has escaped before I could destroy the rest of my segments,” Dottore murmurs, stroking his chin.

Itto laughs sarcastically and throws his hands in the air out of frustration. “Oh, great! That’s nice to hear! One of Dottore’s clones is running around Teyvat and perhaps recking havoc!” Itto says, running his hands through his hair with a sharp sigh.

“So, how are we going to track down this clone of yours?” Dainsleif asks, looking over at Dottore with a blank stare, waiting for an answer.

“I’m not entirely sure about that, but I will try to figure it out,” Dottore replies.

You clear your throat to grab their attention. “I’m sorry to interrupt all of you, but are we going to continue this round of Windtrace, or are we stopping it here for today because Dottore number two has ruined the mood?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at the men.

Heizou pouts and crosses his arms over his chest. “I was hoping we would continue this round of Windtrace because I would certainly have you chase after me,” Heizou sighs wistfully. Heizou glances at you while batting his eyelashes, his bottom lip slightly poking out.

“I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to play Windtace. We might as well finish up this round and head back to the abode,” Aether says, shrugging his shoulders.

Diluc looks at you, placing his hand on your shoulders while Kaveh slowly releases you from his arms. “Are you sure you want to continue this game?” Diluc asks.

You nod your head. “Of course! I’m determined to win this round of Windtrace and rub it in all of your faces,” You said, giving Diluc a teasing smile. Diluc lets out a reluctant sigh and gives you a small smile, squeezing your shoulders lightly.

“If that’s what [Y/N] wants, then who are we to refuse?” Ayato asks, the corners of his lips quirking up as he strokes your hair affectionately.

Everyone walks out of the room and down the stairs back to the first floor of the facility. You stand in the center of the first floor, cover your eyes, and wait for everyone to go back to their hiding spots. What’s Windtrace without the men constantly bickering with one another as they’re trying to return to their hiding spots? You hear a loud slap and a yelp and whine accompanying the slap.

“What was that for?!” Childe screams, his voice bouncing off the metal walls of the factory.

“You’re an idiot! Both of you!” You hear Xiao reply; you can almost hear the sound of disgust dripping from his response.

You pursue your lips and debate on whether you should speak up and ask what’s going on, but knowing the men, Childe and maybe Itto, are up to their shenanigans. Funnily enough, both Childe and Itto remind you of that one duo in the movie back in your world. Dumb and Dumber; it’s their duo name, and it’s pretty fitting for both of them.

“Let’s not fight right now, you three. Save that for the abode; the sooner we finish this game, the sooner we can all go home and relax,” Thoma says.

“And eat because I’m starting to get hungry,” Kaeya interjects.

“Hey, you guys?” you speak up, grabbing the men’s attention.

“Yo.”

“What’s up, hot stuff?”

SMACK!

“OW! FUCK!”

You shake your head and press your lips into a thin line, trying to prevent yourself from bursting out laughing. These men never fail to make you laugh. You shake your head and clear your throat, trying to remember what you’re going to say.

“So, back in my world, I tried to organize a professional hide-and-seek tournament, but it was a failure,” You said.

“Why was it a failure?” Tighnari asks.

You bite on your bottom lip and mentally pray that none of the men will disown you after this. “The good players were hard to find,” you said.

After your response, you can’t help but cringe at how bad the joke sounded. You wanted to crack a lighthearted joke that relates to hide-and-seek and take the tension off from the event that happened earlier, but it seems like you failed at that. If the men are cringing at how bad the joke was, you are cringing with them as well.

Venti clears his throat. “Was that supposed to be a joke?” Venti asks, letting out a fake laugh.

You nod your head. “Yes, it’s supposed to be a joke,” You reply. You feel your face heat up at the lack of responses to your joke; maybe this is how Cyno felt when no one laughed at his joke. Except for Venti and maybe Itto.

“I apologize for saying this, but perhaps you should go to Cyno on how to tell a good joke,” Albedo says softly.

You let out a gasp and turned in the direction where Albedo’s voice was coming from. “How rude!” You exclaim, stomping your foot on the ground playfully.

“Aha! So you do think that my jokes are good!” Cyno exclaims happily.

“Better than what [Y/N] came up with,” Venti snorts.

You shake your head and wave your arms around, assuming that the men can see what you’re doing. “Okay, that’s enough! Let’s cut the chit-chat and start playing Windtrace now!” You said, propping your hands on your hips.

“Perhaps all of you should have pretended that the joke was funny,” You hear Zhongli mutter to the men.

Baizhu chuckles. “Oh, please, Mister Zhongli. You didn’t even laugh at their joke; how do you expect us to laugh at their joke?” Baizhu says; you hear Changsheng hissing out her laughter after Baizhu’s comment.

“We’re starting the game now!” You interrupt the men.

The men fall silent, and you begin to walk around the factory, peeking into the smallest space first before moving on to the other areas of the facility. You open the small compartment and see Xiao and Scaramouche crammed in the small space; both of them look ticked off, and you wonder how both of them ended up in that small space.

“Why did you two pick this spot?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at Scaramouche and Xiao.

Scaramouche and Xiao shove each other while mumbling curses under their breaths. You move out of the way when they stumble out from their spot, dusting the cobwebs and dust bunnies off their clothes.

“That damn oni and ginger said we couldn’t hide in our original spot because we’re short and they’re tall,” Scaramouche scowls, fixing his hat on his head and points at the tall, thick locker a few feet away from where the three of you are standing.

“They’re in the locker if you’re going to search for the both of them next,” Xiao huffs, fixing his fringe and gloves.

You pat Xiao and Scaramouche’s heads with a grateful smile before skipping over to where Xiao and Scaramouche pointed to. You grab onto the door handle and yank the doors open, only to see none of the two men. You turn to look at Xiao and Scaramouche, only to be face to face (well, face to chest) with Itto and Childe. You look up at Itto and Childe; the two men gaze down at you with smirks on their faces. You feel the color drain from your face; you clear your throat and peek between Itto and Childe’s arms to look at Scaramouche and Xiao.

“You’re cute,” Childe comments, grabbing your attention.

“You’re coming home with us!” Itto says, grabbing you by the waist and tossing you over his shoulders.

You squirm around in Itto’s grasp. “Hey! We’re not done with this round of Windtrace yet! I still have more people to find!” You whine, lightly punching Itto’s bare back and shooting a glare in Childe’s direction when you hear him cackle.

“Huh!?”

“I don’t think it’s fair for the both of you to take [Y/N] for yourselves,” Gorou protests, running up to you, Itto, and Childe. Gorou gives Childe and Itto a small glare, his hands clenched into fists.

“Well, too bad! Because if Scaradouche can do it, then we can too!” Itto exclaims, smacking your ass really hard.

“Ow!” You scream, clutching your aching ass cheeks with your right hand before slapping Itto’s ass back with your left hand.

Itto jolts and laughs, shaking his head with a big smile on his face. Archons, if you could smack that smile off of Itto’s face right now, you would do it in a heartbeat.

“We never gave Scaramouche permission to float away with [Y/N] in his arms, Itto,” Kazuha says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Pierro shakes his head and holds his right hand up. “What did you call the Balladeer?” Pierro asks, turning to look at Itto, who stares at him like a deer caught in headlights.

Capitano lets out a snort and crosses his arms over his chest, leaning towards Pierro and muttering into the first Harbinger’s ears. “I believe that this oni called the Balladeer…. Scaradouche…” He trails off.

Scaramouche turns to look at Itto; his eyes lit with flames as he storms to Itto. Scaramouche stands in front of Itto, grabs him by the chest straps, and yanks Itto down to Scaramouche’s eye level.

“What did you call me?” Scaramouche growls, tightening his grip on Itto’s chest strap.

Itto smirks and slaps your ass for the second time. “Scaradouche; quite a fitting thing to call you when you’re acting like a little shit,” Itto says.

Scaramouche growls and zaps Itto in the stomach, causing Itto to yelp loudly and drop you on the ground. You end up landing on your face, making your back curve and crack loudly.

Everyone gasps in horror when you lay on the ground limply. You groan and stare up at the ceiling. Capitano helps you get up from the ground, wrapping his arms around your shoulders while you lean against his side. You’re still breathless from your fall and your sudden appointment with the chiropractor.

“Looks like we’ll be ending this round of Windtrace for today,” Kaveh says, shaking his head while pinching the bridge of his nose.

Al Haitham nods his head. “We all need to have a talk once we’re back at the abode. In the meantime, [Y/N] should visit the infirmary,” Al Haitham says, giving you a sympathetic look.

Capitano lifts you in his arms and carries you out of the abandoned factory with the men following behind. You’re not looking forward to returning to the abode mainly because you already know what the talk will contain (how to properly and carefully play Windtrace without hurting yourself and others around you). You’re certainly not looking forward to visiting the infirmary because that means you’ll be getting a scolding of a lifetime from Albedo, Baizhu, and Tighnari. That is as if you’re not already being scolded by the men while journeying back to the abode and estate.

Note: And that is the wrap for this week! Next week will be Crave 5 since I do need to brush up on my skills in writing smut. I do have another mini-fic smut that is going to come out soon; it's either for Pierro or Capitano, but I can't decide. Hopefully, I'll be able to choose who's next for the mini-fics! ^^ I'm hoping to make a new taglist soon and add the options of whether you want to be tagged in mini-fics or not. Anyway, for those who are new here or are returning readers, I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for "Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader" and my overall taglist: @xxkatsusjinsux, @huboi, @crazyrichdaughter, @sucker-for-angst-and-fluff, @patata52, @honeybedo, @thedivinepriestress, @pencil-of-ashes, @samarill, @bakuhve, @yukima, @chaosinanutshell, @emperatris-rinaka, @neilify, @ksjjkthpjm, @jaisithebird, @mouchie, @emerald-smile, @jixlem, @the-blob-fish, @jiminscarmex, @bananazzzen, @thelost-in-time, @kryloxen, @ayolk, @tomansimp, @lordbugs, @c-camellias, @chihawari, @lilliansstuff, @zhongloml, @sweethcnvy, @wolf-chan2134, @simp4-fictional-men, @dai-tsukki-desu, @trash-queen-af, @tamayakii, @stellaris999, @hispasian-otaku, @stygianoir, @crispynutduck (if you have not been tagged, it's because you have your settings turned off for people to tag you in posts)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon (hopefully!) and will be accepting commissions through Ko-Fi!

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astrobei · 2 years ago

Note

hi suni astrobi my beloved dear suni ❤️🫂

sending you a valentine's day prompt because i can annnnnd.

i challenge you to write miwi bc i need more miwi in my life. you can do whatever you want with this, but i want to see little baby will making a valentine's day card for his best friend, mike. bonus points if it has like paladin mike and dragons and all that other good ole fashioned dnd goodness.

hi andi andiwriteordie my beloved dear andi <3 happy valentine's day !! as a special present for you, here is my first ever attempt at writing miwi :^)

On Sunday night, Will’s mom brings home a bag of candy.

This, obviously, grabs his attention before anything else– brightly packaged somethings that crinkle loudly when his mom puts the bag down on the kitchen table. He can see them peeking out through the thin white plastic of the Melvald’s bag, and immediately perks up.

“What are those?” he asks, because it’s not rare for his mom to bring stuff back from work– especially on late nights like this, when she knows that Jonathan is busy with homework and no one’s had a chance to cook dinner, not when she’s been out all day and his dad is– well. His dad sure isn’t about to cook dinner, and Will has learned how to heat stuff up in the microwave but they’re currently out of everything that he can stick in a microwave. Will expects her to whip out a couple of TV dinners, and he kind of hopes she will, because it’s late and he’s hungry.

He peers over the long end of the table, trying to catch a glimpse, because the TV dinners don’t usually look like this– all pink and red and crinkly. His mom laughs, then holds the bag open by the handles so he can look inside. “Candy,” she says, “for your class Valentine’s Day party tomorrow.”

Will stopped listening after the word candy. He doesn’t know what Valentine’s Day is, and he doesn’t really care, because the bag is full of the brightly wrapped candies and chocolates that he saw in the store the other day when his mom took him inside. “Whoa,” he breathes out, and reaches out to stick a hand into the bag, even if just to make sure that what he’s seeing is real. A whole bag, full of candy. The wrappers crinkle some more, loud under his palm, and he pulls out a heart-shaped lollipop, flat and an almost aggressive shade of red. “Is this for us?”

“Oh, no way,” his mom laughs some more. “This much candy? All your teeth are going to fall out.”

Will grins. “My teeth are already falling out,” he says, pointing to where he’d lost his first one just a couple of weeks ago. He’s still not used to it, the strange space in his mouth where there didn’t use to be one before. He sticks the tip of his tongue into the gap there, and his mom rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

“Maybe that’s because of all the candy you ate at Halloween,” she says, and leans over to ruffle his hair. “It’s not good for you!”

“Danny in my class already lost three teeth,” Will mopes, “and he got three dollars from the tooth fairy, so maybe if mine fall out too–”

“The tooth fairy will refuse to give you money because you let your teeth rot on purpose,” Joyce says, and Will slumps into the chair next to her, pouting. “It goes against the tooth fairy laws.”

Will might only be six, but he knows that there’s no such thing as tooth fairy laws. There can’t be rules just for one person. That’s ridiculous. He tucks the lollipop from earlier into his pocket before his mom can see, though. Just in case. “What’s the candy for?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow,” his mom says, walking over to the kitchen and opening the fridge door. “Your class is having a party, and these are for your friends.”

Will frowns. “What’s– Valentine’s Day?”

“It’s a holiday about celebrating the people you love.” Joyce emerges with a loaf of bread and a few slices of cheese. “Grilled cheese okay for dinner?”

They’ve had grilled cheese for about four days in a row now, but Will doesn’t mind. His mom makes them perfect. He nods. “Yeah!”

“You have to eat the crusts this time,” she says. “Don’t think I didn’t see you throw them away last time.”

Shoot. So close.

“Fine,” Will agrees, then leans over to pluck another candy out of the bag. It’s pink this time. He thinks it might be strawberry-flavored. Will isn’t the biggest fan of strawberry, but candy is candy after all.

“I heard that,” his mom chides, back still turned to him, as the candy wrapper crinkles loudly under his fingers. “Put the candy back, Will.”

No! So close again. Will scowls at the traitorous sweet in his hand and tosses it back in the bag. “How did you even hear that?”

“I have superpowers, remember?” Joyce points to her ears and shoots him a wink. She’s probably right, Will thinks glumly. His mom has ears on the back of her head– or whatever it is they say.

“Why do my kids in my class get candy and I don’t?”

“They’ll give you candy too,” Joyce assured him, flipping a sandwich over in the pan. “That’s the whole point! You trade candy and Valentine’s Day cards.”

Cards? “What kind of cards?”

“You can look in the bag. I picked some of those up on the way back from work.”

Will sticks his arm bag in the bag and shuffles it around, until soft cellophane gives way to the sharp edge of cardstock. He pulls one out– “Be mine,” he reads aloud, then wrinkles up his nose in confusion. “Huh?”

“Cheesy, huh?” Joyce slides a plate in front of him, and smiles. “Speaking of cheesy–”

Dinner! Will’s stomach rumbles, and in the face of a perfectly made grilled cheese sandwich, thoughts of Valentine’s Day slip instantly out of his mind.

—

They don’t stay out for long, though.

“Jonathan?”

Jonathan’s room door is open, and he has his back to the door, but he turns around as Will peers through the doorway. “Oh. Hey, Will.”

Will shuffles his feet, hesitating. Is this a stupid question to ask? Surely Jonathan won’t think he’s stupid. Jonathan never thinks Will is stupid, even when Will asks dumb questions or says dumb things or acts super annoying. “What’s Valentine’s Day?” he blurts out.

Jonathan raises his eyebrows. “Huh?”

Maybe Jonathan doesn’t know. That’s a weird thought, though, because Jonathan knows everything. He’s in third grade now, which seems big and grown up and far away. It’s old enough for your grade to have an actual number. Not like kindergarten, which Jonathan says is, like, zero grade. “Valentine’s Day,” Will says again. Mom had been so vague about it, and he’s still not sure what’s up with the lovey-dovey stuff. Maybe Jonathan can help. “What is it?”

“Um,” Jonathan says. “It’s– the holiday of love, I guess?”

Oh. That’s lame. “Ew,” Will says, making a face. “That’s gross.”

“Tell me about it,” Jonathan sighs. “Why are you asking?”

“I have to celebrate with my class tomorrow,” Will sighs. “And mom got candy but I’m not allowed to eat any.”

Jonathan makes a sympathetic noise. “Lame.”

“I know!” Will exclaims. “And I don’t even– love anybody. Gross.”

“Well,” Jonathan says thoughtfully, “it doesn’t have to be love love. It can be, um. Any kind of special somebody.”

“Special somebody?” That’s a weird thing to call someone. “Huh?”

“You know. Is there someone special to you? Someone you really like?”

Will likes a lot of people. His teacher is really nice. He likes mom’s boss at the store, because sometimes he lets Will pick out a piece of candy from the display. He likes Jonathan, and he likes his mom, of course. But people who are special–

“Mike,” Will decides immediately. It’s an obvious choice, because Will hadn’t ever had best friends before Mike came into his life earlier this year. They do everything together– playing at recess, eating lunch, sleeping over at each other’s house. The other kids in the class even talk about them like they’re one person– MikeandWill– which makes Will smile. It’s nice to feel like he’s a part of something. Mike is special. Mike makes him feel special.

Something funny happens to Jonathan’s face, super fast, and then it goes back to normal. “There you go,” he says, then nods. “You can make something for Mike.”

“Like what?”

“Um, I don’t know. Draw him a card?”

“Mom already bought cards,” Will sighs.

“Make him a special one,” Jonathan shrugs. “Because he’s– um. Your special somebody.”

Will grins, wide enough that he knows his missing tooth gap is showing. Sue him. He thinks it’s cool, even if Jonathan has, like, five of them and doesn’t care. “Thanks, Jonathan!”

“Uh, yeah!” Jonathan sounds a little confused as he calls after him, but Will is already on his way to his own room. “You’re welcome!”

When Will gets back to his room, he pulls out his crayons and his paper, sits down at his desk, and–

He stops.

Oh no.

What is he supposed to put on a card? For Mike, especially, who’s one of the coolest people Will knows. What if he thinks it’s lame? What if he doesn’t want a card? What if whatever Will makes is so boring and awful that Mike laughs?

Will shakes his head. No, he thinks. Mike won’t laugh at him. Mike would never laugh at him, and that’s why he’s so special– everyone else laughs at Will, sometimes, about his clothes or his hair or the way he talks. But Mike doesn’t. Mike thinks he’s cool, and Mike thinks he’s fun, and Mike likes all the same stuff as he does– the kind of stuff that everyone else in their class thinks is lame but Mike doesn’t.

Will stares down at the blank sheet of colored paper. Blue, because Mike likes blue. And Will’s got a twenty-four pack of crayons and he doesn’t know what color to draw in, but everything else, the candies and the cards in mom’s bag, had been red or pink, so maybe Will should draw in red or pink too. And– everything else had, like, hearts on it, so maybe he can start there.

“For Mike,” Will says aloud, slowly and carefully, as he writes the words at the top of the paper. He’s pretty sure he spelled it right. He knows he’s got Mike’s name correct, at least. F-O-R. For.

Yeah. That looks okay.

The heart is next. Will tries to make it big enough to take up most of the page, where the paper has been folded in half down the middle. It’s a little lumpy, but– yeah. You can totally tell it’s a heart.

Probably.

He opens the card to the inside, and pauses again. Great, he thinks, because what is he supposed to write on the inside? He’d already drawn a heart on the front, and it would probably be a little lame to draw another one on the inside.

“Think,” he groans out loud, putting the red crayon down and peering into the box. Half of them are broken, and some others are worn down to nubs, so it’s not even like he has a lot of options here.

What sort of stuff does Mike even like? Mostly the same stuff Will does, but then maybe that would be like Will is making a card for himself, and not for Mike. He looks at the paper some more, like maybe something will appear on it, fully-formed, if he stares long enough.

Nope. Nothing.

Will sighs, and thinks harder.

Mike had liked that book they read in class last week– something about a knight rescuing a princess from a tower. Will hadn’t really been paying attention, because it was kind of boring and, like, sappy and about love, but Mike had been totally into it. Will had looked over during group reading time and his eyes had been huge and his jaw had been, like, on the floor. Will didn’t really get the appeal, because, again, it had been totally cheesy and sappy and gross. But Mike had found a stick at recess an hour later and brandished it like a sword, and Will had been too busy laughing to properly express how lame he thought the whole thing was.

It wasn’t lame when Mike did it, though. That’s why Mike is special– nothing’s lame when he does it.

Will picks up a crayon. He has an idea.

—

Don’t think it’s lame, Will prays, fighting every instinct in his body that’s telling him to squeeze his eyes shut and hold his breath. Please don’t think it’s lame.

Mike hasn’t said anything yet. Maybe he really does think it’s lame.

Will is starting to wish that maybe the asphalt of the playground could just open up and swallow him whole. Mike totally thinks it’s lame. Maybe Mike didn’t even want a card. Maybe Mike is weirded out. Maybe Mike–

“Did you really make this?”

Will blinks. Mike doesn’t sound weirded out. He sounds– impressed? Maybe?

“Um. Yes,” he says anyway. Mike’s eyes are wide where he’s staring at the card in front of him, and Will holds his breath after all– just a little– for one second, then two, then–

“Will!” Mike says, face breaking out into the biggest smile Will has literally ever seen him smile. “This is awesome!”

Oh, thank god. “Really?” Will can’t keep the relief out of his voice when he asks.

“Yeah!” Mike nods rapidly, never once taking his eyes off the paper. “This is awesome!”

“You already said that,” Will points out, but he’s smiling now too. “You really don’t think it’s lame?”

“No way!” Mike points at the crayon outline of a figure against the blue paper. “Is that me?”

“Duh,” Will says, pointing to where he had drawn an arrow and written Mike. Just in case there was any confusion. “It’s you as the knight. From the story.”

“I love the knight from the story,” Mike announces, and Will immediately feels like a million pounds of weight has been lifted off his shoulders. Thank god.

“I know,” Will giggles. “You almost killed me with the stick you were waving around.”

Mike gasps. “Excuse you. It was a sword.”

“Sure,” Will says. “Okay. It was a sword.”

Mike looks like he’s going to say something else, and then he stops. He shakes his head. His voice is quieter now when he says, “You really made this for me?”

Will doesn’t know why they keep coming back to this. Obviously he made this for Mike. That’s why he’d labeled the drawing with his name. Mike. He’d meant for that to help, in case there was any confusion, but maybe he hadn’t labeled it well enough. Maybe two arrows next time. Or maybe he should add Mike’s last name, just in case Mike thought he made it for the other Mike in their class. “Duh,” he says again, because he isn’t sure what about this Mike isn’t understanding. “It’s for– Valentine’s Day.”

Mike goes a little pink. Will’s not sure why, because they’ve been sitting in one spot for all of recess so far, and Mike hasn’t been running around at all. “Really?”

“Jonathan said I should make a card for someone special.” Will tugs nervously at the zipper on his jacket. Why is he nervous? It’s only Mike. “And I think you’re special.”

Mike’s mouth drops open. He closes it, then opens it again, in an excellent imitation of their class goldfish Bubbles. “Really?”

Maybe Mike’s words just aren’t working today. Will feels like that a lot. He gets it. “Duh,” he says, for the third and hopefully final time. “You’re my best friend.”

“Wow,” Mike breathes out. “You’re an awesome artist, Will.”

“Really?”

Okay, maybe it’s Will’s turn for his brain to stop working. He’s not sure what’s so awesome about his drawing. You can barely even tell it’s Mike.

“Um, yeah,” Mike stares, like this is obvious or something. “You can totally tell it’s me! No one else in our class can draw this good. You should do it more. I think you could get, like, famous or something.”

Will doesn’t know about all that, but something warm and fuzzy is swelling up inside him anyway. Surprised and pleased at the praise. “Oh. Thanks, Mike.”

“I wish I made you something,” Mike says sadly, still staring down at the card, like he’s trying to absorb it with his eyes. “My mom just made me get the ones from the store for everyone.”

“It’s okay!” Will smiles. Really, he doesn’t need a card from Mike. He’s just happy Mike liked it.

“You can have my Reese’s,” Mike offers. He doesn’t fold the card up and put it in his pocket like Will thought he might, but holds it carefully in both hands and looks over at him, eyes wide. “Someone gave me one for our candy exchange, but I think you like them more than me.”

Will grins. “Okay!”

Mike hesitates, then suddenly, moves forward and throws his arms around Will’s shoulders. It’s sudden enough for Will to stumble backwards, a little caught off-guard by the puffy weight of Mike’s jacket and body against his. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Will,” Mike says. “You’re my best friend too.”

#oh this was so fun #unexpectedly hard but in the best way #i don't know how to write little kids #i'm so scared of making them sound too baby #but hopefully !! this was good #thank u sm for this prompt andi it was so so so cute #happy valentine's day i love u much #mwah <3 #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #miwi #fun sized fics #fic #ok byebye #/astro posts

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