#definition of literal Bambi eyes

[zadzunny]

🥺

[chrissdollie]

rapper!chris x singer!reader hcs

a/n: lowkey a collab with @bambi-slxt bc of all the headcanons she sent me LMAOO thank u sweets!! <3

SFW

chri$ is definitely one of the more "soft" rappers. everyone knows that hes a lovesick puppy for you. he doesnt have ONE line including the words "my bitch". instead he replaces them with "my girl" OR "my wife" :((

i think he would 100% make an album fully dedicated to you. kinda like tyler the creator's "call me if you get lost" in a way. for example, in the song "HEAVEN TO ME", tyler explains his dreams. chris would rap about all of the things he wants to do with you and how he sees you in his life forever

he has many features on peace on the beach with my peach since its partially about your guys' sweet relationship! theres moments in the record where there are beautiful beats paired with your heavenly vocals and cute voice cracks while chri$ is dropping barssss (ill make a post ab lyrics i think he'd add)

sososososo supportive of your creative journey. he was with you as you wrote and planned out your extremely personal debut. he even helped out at the studio :c

but then you started adventuring some time after your 2nd-3rd album. you started experimenting with different genres/styles. you created storylines and visuals along with your music.

out of the two of you, chri$ is definitely more famous. anyhow, he got invited to the met gala and had u has his plus one obviously, where you both looked drop dead gorgeous!! i literally cannot see him wearing a basic ass suit and tie to the met. he has to be on your level and match your uniqueness which make you two stand out so much!

when you both got up the steps, he was being interviewed by emma chamberlin, who was also a fan of his. she asked about the creative process of his newly released album and he totallyy put you in the spotlight, saying "yn helped me a lott honestly. she's... literally a genius." he grins, turning to you while keeping his hand on your waist.

you guys like toying with the paparazzi when they're bothering you. you goofballs make silly faces right in the cameras so they back off

one time when you were being interviewed, your sweet boy wrapped his arms around your waist as he listened to you talk. you were a little nervous and stuttered a bit, but chris consoled you by rubbing small circles into your waist and whispering a gentle "it's okay baby" to your ear.

you fangirl on stage when you catch your boyfriend's eyes in the front row. sometimes you entirely stop what you're singing just to giggle and squeal "hiiii honey!!" while twirling your hair like a little girl. the audience cheers with screams when they realize chris is with them in the crowd-- but feels like its only you two in the stadium when he blows you a kiss (some corny shit he never thought he'd do) and mouth the words "i love you".

for the holidays, u two visit homeless shelters and childrens hospitals and perform for everybody <3

imagine just hanging out at the studio with him and your guys' friends. he's manspreading on a leather couch while massaging your feet resting in his lap as you write lyrics in your lap, your friends helping you out as you do.

you knew that somewhere down the line there was going to be some kind of beef. a popular rapper decided to call out chris for something he did years ago as a literal child. you both ignore it until he sends out a tweet about you. something around, "nd his bitch bad asf id hit fs but she a fuckin weirdass childish mf"

you ignore the fact he called u a "weirdass childish mf", you cant care less, many people dont vibe with ur ideas and thats okay!

u do however care about how his girlfriend would react to seeing him wanting to fuck you. and you'd met her before too, she was a little snobbish, but respectful nonetheless. you joked to your boyfriend about dropping your own diss track on him, but he actually seem intrigued. you shut it down almost immediately though, you didn't wanna make something small such a big deal

but at the next big event you guys went to, you found the rapper's girlfriend and showed her his tweet. she thanked you with a furious scowl on her face before she ran off and slapped the shit out of him in front of everybody

chris gets a custom made $5k chain that has ur name and little details that remind him of u around it :((

NSFW

speaking of that chain, he wears it whenever he pounds into you so you'll be reminded of how he's yours.

chris loves ur vocals so much on stage! he finds them beautiful, but he loves them even more in bed.

"cmon mama lemme hear that pretty voice"

in fact, you two created a song just to have playing in the background while you two get intimate

chris audio recorded him eating u out once and you saying, "oh, fuck chris, it's so good!" and he decided to use that as an adlib in his favorite songs OR disses he wrote about someone being a jerk to u

watching chris perform did things to you. seeing him sweat, brushing his gorgeous hair out of his face, putting in so much energy into his performance... it's intoxicating! sometimes you wish he'd just drop the mic, pull you onstage, and make love to you infront of the world.

he talks about marrying you while he's balls deep inside of your wet cunt :( saying how he wants to drop a humongous bag on your ring, give you the wedding of your dreams, and how he desperately wants to hear "missus sturniolo" from others' mouths

chris will totally pop up behind stage after a show and guide you to your dressing room not so subtly. you apologize to your manager before rushing to your private room like a giddy teenager. "wanna see her sweetheart, she wet for me righ' now? oh, there she is.." he coos as he bends down to his knees right in front of your pussy when you pull down your pretty pink stage costume.

@leah-loves-lilies @1everythingmustgo @star-sturn @junnniiieee07 @mattsneezing @freshloveee@freshsturns@emma4eva @r6diosturns @matthasmywholeheart @donthugmeimhot @blahbel668 @chrissturnsss @joanofarcily @mattscoquette @slutsturn @sturnioloremarker @ashley9282828 @jnkvivi @sturncakez @lanasturn @riasturns @st7rnioioss @strnlxlqve @starlace111 @mattsfavbigtitties @stvrlighht

[angelfrombeneth]

HAVENT I MADE IT OBVIOUS? - T . NOTT

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: *REQUESTED* Reader and Theodore are best friends. Reader gets wrapped up in her first love scandal and Theodore cant handle it. He cant cope that its not him.

Warnings: Angst, Slight Fluff, The most heart warming love confession ever. Mentions of sex but hardly.

A/N: The request wasn't super specific so I decided to go with something like this.No smut, because I have a really similar request which specifically asks for smut so that one will have smut.

"Teddy don't be a twat" You smacked his head as you sat beside him.

"What! Its not my fault the instructions were unclear" He scoffed.

You and Theo both were sat in potions as you both were paired up for a task. Theo thought he was being funny reading the ingredients not in the correct order and ultimately fucking up the mixture.

"This is why I hate pairing up with you in class" You groaned.

"Hey Y/N!" You looked up to see Cedric leaning against the front of your workbench.

"Oh, Hey Cedric" You smiled.

"I was wondering" He smiled at you, his eyes flickering to the side for a moment for placing a hand ontop if yours. "Would you wanna go out sometime? Maybe for a meal or something?" He grinned.

You smiled as you sat up in your seat. "I'd love that"

"Ill meet you at 6, outside your commonroom on Friday?"

You nodded as he smiled, caressing your hand before walking back to his seat.

You heard a scoff beside you, your neck cracked to look at Theo, who had a huge scowl on his face. "Your going on a date with him? He's such a prick"

"Oh fuck off Theo" You rolled your eyes as you stood up gathering your books before exiting the class.

Theo caught up with you, walking beside you. "No seriously, he's such a priss. Why's you wanna date.. that" You scoffed at his statement before scaling the stairs down to the Slytherin Commonroom.

"Theo shut up-" You turn to see Pansy. "Oh my god! Pans!" You squealed as you ran at her.

You felt Theo's moody presence slip away with Draco and Mattheo who walked over to him as soon as you ran to Pansy.

"Cedric asked me on a date!" You squealed.

"No way- Oh my god, this will be so good" Pansy smiled, grabbing your hand. "You can test the waters before the date at the party tonight!"

"Party?" And with that Pansy yanked you to your feet and you scrambled up the stairs being dragged behind her as the next 4 hours entailed getting ready for the party.

Slytherin parties were always off the chain. Every other house could party for sure, but the amount of shit Slytherin would gather for the party. All the alcohol and drugs like it was some free tester aisle of a muggle store. It would always end very heated whether everyone was hooking up or someone started a fight. It was always the same old shit.

You decided on a basic little black dress, you can never go wrong. The dress was short and frilled. To be fair it looked more like one of those frilly tops that remind you of a dress. Your assets were out on display, but it was a party why not.

"Girl, that dress is definitely not your size but it's so cute!" She chuckled as you spun around. You fixed the top, making sure there will be no nipple slips. "You have literally the perfect body; tits, ass and thighs. I'm so jealous"

"Pans shut up, you are so hot I won't even leave for the party we can have our own" You both giggled as you leaned forward kissing her cheek before grabbing her eyeliner and finishing up your makeup.

By now the party was in full swing for atleast an hour and you two were only just getting done. You held hands as you exited Pansy's dorm and skipped downstairs giggling. Not to mention the two if you had pregamed before.

You two did you rounds round the party greeting everyone and stealing shots from groups. You both got to your friends on the couch in the back corner as you stood like bambi, struggling to stand straight in your heels from how fucked you were.

"Woah- Careful" You heard as you felt a hand snake around your waist steadying you. You look up to the side and catch Theo's dark eyes staring down at you.

"Thanks" You giggled leaning into his chest, pulling his arms over your shoulder, holding his hands as you looked to the group. Pansy situated herself on Enzo's lap the two of them giggling at you and Theo.

"So Y/N, any updates with Mr Badger? I was told about your date" Mattheo smirked, he wasnt trying to wind Theo up, he didnt know but Theo still got pissed.

You felt Theo tense behind you but you didn't take notice of it as you continued to okay with the rings on his hands. "We haven't been on the date yet, but he seems nice"

You heard Theo scoff as you turned to look up at him. "Nice my ass" He mumbled. You rolled your eyes, not wanting to argue as you continued conversation with your friends.

Theo was enjoying the company, enjoying the feeling of your body snuggled against him as you played with his rings. God, he was falling, quick. He was too busy daydreaming to even notice you had sauntered away to the other side of the room.

"Ced~" You smiled as you stood beside him.

"Hey Y/N- You look gorgeous tonight" He chuckled, taking your hand and pulling you to stand between his legs. His hands gripping your thighs, dangerously close to your ass.

"So do you" You smiled, running your hand softly up and down his chest. "M' excited for our date" You giggled.

"Me too.. Its not everyday you get to be in the presence of a goddess" He licked his lips.

"Stop it you!" You chuckled, hitting his shoulder.

"Cant help myself" His hands threatening to touch the curve of your ass.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, chuckling down at him as he pulled you closer by your thighs, placing his lips onto yours as he kissed you softly.

It was needy, very needy. He gripped your ass as you leaned over kissing him more passionately as you say on his knee.

Third POV

Theo couldn't cope at the sight. The second Pansy pointed it out, his hand tightened around his bottle. Anger filling his body as he watched another man kiss you. Another man touch you. That should be him. Not Cedric. Him. Jealously bubbled inside of him, very quickly.

Theo was too focused on the scene that the glass bottle shattered at the pressure. All his friends turned to look at the sound and him. He looked down at his bloody hand as he wiped it on his shirt, before groaning and turning to push through the crowd.

Everyone was confused by the sudden action by Theo, they had no clue what caused it, or even a smidge of knowledge how much Theo loved you.

Theo rushed away, pushing through people trying to get further and further away from the hurt. His hand covered in blood and throbbing as he stopped at the stairs. Turning to look in your direction, noticing your still with him. He bit his lip, holding in any emotion as he continued up the stairs.

Your POV

A many days later, after the party, you and Cedric went on your date. It was lovely, he was very attentive which you loved. You didn't see him much the few days after but chalked it up to him being busy.

It wasn't till it was 4 days after your date with Cedric you noticed the boy was still yet to talk to you. It left a sour taste in your mouth and you wanted to confront him. Why was he ignoring you.

Suddenly someone bumped into you, quickly apologising as they sprinted down the hall. Curious you followed them, it was a first year probably not a huge deal

You had no expectation for the kid, but it wasn't what he was running to caught your eye. It was down a dark corridor you turned to see Cedric and Theodore.. talking? Before you could even call at them, Theo pounces on Cedric. Your eyes wide as you froze. You were too far down the hall to do anything but noticed Mattheo, Draco, Enzo and Blaise all struggling to pull Theo off Cedric. Cedrics friends yelling as Cedric was frankly getting battered.

You sprinted down the hall towards them, aa they got ripped apart as you approached. Cedric and Theo's face all bloody.

"What the fuck is wrong with you??" You screamed as you looked at Theo.

He looked shocked, taken back. "Me?? He started it!"

"Sock it Theo, there was no need" You helped Cedric to his feet. "Let me take you to the hospital wing" And with that the two of you left.

Third POV:

"Shut up Nott, you're so up her ass. Don't be mad she hasn't put out for you yet. It's a long list. She's just a hole to fill. You'll have your turn " Cedric laughed.

Theo doesn't know how he got in this situation, he was just walking then saw Cedric and now he was ontop of the boy pummelling his face in. He was talking shit about you, lying about you. He was horrible.

But the worse thing for Theo was when he saw you. Saw your face when you looked between the two of them. His heart broke when you reached for Cedric, cheking if he was OK and whisking him away.

Theo was going insane.

Your POV:

It had been a day since the fight. Both boys were in the hospital wing but you refused to see Theo why would he do that. He was your bestfriend, and Cedric was just.. a guy. A guy that made you happy. Its like Theo was punishing you for being happy.

You were sat in potions noticing Theo hadn't show up, and you were pissed. He was being selfish, this was a group project.

You go to the hospital wing to find Theo, but Madame Pomfrey told you he was dismissed last night but Cedric was still there. You looked over at Ced, noticing his curtain was shut, I guess he had company, you thought and just walked out. If Theo wasn't in class then there's only one placed he'd be.

You scaled the stairs to the Astronomy reaching the top as you took a moment to get your breath. You noticed Theo by the railing and you sigh.

"Theo you can't skip class"

He turned to look at you, inhaling the smoke from his cigarette as he looked at you. "Well I am so it doesn't fucking matter. Don't you have a baby to coddle?"

"Fuck off Theo, don't be a prick" You scoffed

"He's a bad person Y/N. Why won't you fucking listen to me"

"BECAUSE YOUR CHATTING SHIT NOTT" You yell at him.

"You don't even know what he said about you. He called you a slut. Your nothing but a hole to fill" He sneered.

"What the fuck is wrong with you! Are you jealous I'm happy?" You laughed at him, distressed with the situation.

"You aren't happy" He snapped.

"How do you know? How do you know what's good for me!" You stare at his back, rage building up inside of you as you yelled out at him.

"BECAUSE IM GOOD FOR YOU.." Theo yelled. He turned to look at you, his breath erratic. "I know whats good for you and its me.. not him, no one else. Its me, it'll always be me" His teeth are gritted as he looked as you as you stand in shock. "I love you Y/N! It's always been you. Every fucking waking moment I think about you, your fucking stupid coconut smelling hair! The way your lip dimple shows when you smile a certain way. I spend every waking moment thinking about you. I live and breathe for you Y/N."

You stand there stunned as you look down at him.

"Haven't I made it fucking obvious? I fought the fucking freak for you! Yes initially he did nothing but.. He called you horrible things.. I can't bare to see you with another man that isn't me. I think about you so much bella.. Morning, noon and fucking night, I think about you.." His voice cracked as he stared down at you before he took your hand, kneeling down infront of you holding your hand. "It'll always be you.." He softly kissed your hand.

Your eyes slightly glassy from the confession as you stand speechless.

"Please say something bella.." Theo looked up at you, his hands grasping yours.

You burst out into tears, ripping your hand away from him as you cover your face. "You are so annoying Theo- I- I didn't know you felt like this" You sobbed as you wiped your eyes. Your mascara smudged all over your face.

Theo stood up, cupping your face between his hands as he wiped your tears with his thumbs as he chuckled, a tear rolling down his eye.

"I guess we are both stupid.." He chuckled lightly.

"You're such an asshole" You hit his chest playfully, laughing slightly through the sobs. His hand catching yours as you hit his chest, before his lips crashed against yours.

The pair of you finally became one.

If you enjoyed this fic and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here!

[1800-lemonadeg1rl]

Sniffle any louder

Natasha Romanoff x reader

Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆

Summary - when you show up to work il lit aggravates Natasha that is until she sees your dire state

Warnings - mention of illness, nonsexual nudity, hurt comfort, as usual not proofread

Word count - 2k

A/n - I started rushing at the end because I wanted to have it out by tonight so the ending might not be as good srry

Fractures of pain shot through your aching body like icicles as you left the team meeting. God how you wished you'd just admitted you were ill this morning instead of letting your pride get in the way and pretended to the team that you were right as rain. I guess that's what happens when your on a team with literal super soldiers, you too start believing your above any illness or injury. Oh, but how wrong you realised you were when this flu hit you like a ton of bricks. The combined migraine alongside with the distrsssing chill of your bones left little energy left for you to do anything except lie down and rest, which you hated to admit and wouldn't ever given the choice, despite how sickly you'd begun to look.

Your usual bright eyes full of life and wonder became dull and bloodshot from the lack of sleep your blocked nose had caused you the previous night when you chose to ignore it. The skin on your face that was often painted a rosy colour now paled almost deathly looking, comparable to that of a ghost. Your unshakable senses, often remarked as some of the best had become overworked and dulled from the sickness using up all your remaining energy causing you not to notice people around you until they had begun to speak. The gravelly gasping and choking noises that spluttered from your inflamed throat were foreign to your usual bubbly voice.

Despite these stark and clear changes in not only your physical appearance but also how you carried yourself around the compound you had tricked yourself, somehow, into the belief no one around you would notice. Obviously you were unwell anyone could see that from a mile off and if you didn't think out of a house full of spies, enhanced beings and military personnel that not one of them would pick up on something up with you then you must have been seriously down with something.

Unlucky for you someone did notice after your sniffling had interupted their train of thought for the seventh time, it didn't take a genuis but she'd been ignoring the signs since you arrived. Natasha Romanoff had been trying to reread and correct a badly written mission report written by an incompetent intern. This had already been stressful enough for her without the woman next to her trying to desperately through her blocked nose instead of just going home. The first time she actually noticed something was up was when you nearly walked into the door, stumbling around like bambi on ice. This was something someone with your spacial awareness and high senses would never manage to do if they were as okay as they were telling everyone they were. She spotted it again when you began to cough like a smoker and at that like someone who smoked at least five packs a day, a thing she knew you were not. You'd told her a while back that despite your bad habits which were endless and definitely on show today that you never wanted to smoke because it reminded you of your mother. So unless you'd switched up on that which she very much doubted and had taken up chain smoking the answer was clear; you were ill, very ill.

She also questioned why you were even here, how you were even here. Natasha would leap at the first chance to avoid these dull meetings even if it meant admitting illness to the rest of the group. She'd actually faked being ill before to skip debriefs and instead head to the gym. At one point she had no clue how you were even still able to be alive and functioning with how shallow your breaths were. Everytime your mouth opened a disgusting noise alike to the disgust she felt at nails on a chalk board rung from deep in your throat. Aswell your ever scratcher voice that was beginning to drive her insane. It was one thing to come in sick, it was another to make yourself more ill by working harder than usual.

This had made her angry more than anything, angry at your selflessness. Angry no one else would ever do this, including herself. Angry you put working above your own physical health. Angry that you'd risk everyone else getting ill instead of taking a sick day. Angry you couldnt just admit your illness and leave.

Your eighth sniffle really sent Natasha over the edge as she turned to look dead at you and gave you a menacingly dirty look. A scowl that could kill glowering into your soul. Yet in feverly state you could hardly even register the spy looking in your direction as you still tried to process something said in conversation several minutes ago. Throughout the rest of the meeting she sideyed, scowled, gritted teeth, frowned, muttered under breath and cursed in your direction much to you ignorance. On an average day you could recognise what emotion someone was going through just by being in the same room as them and the tone of their breath but right now even with Natasha directly next you, practically right in your face you couldn't pick up a single negative emotion.

After the meeting you quickly stumbled in the direction of your room, hoping to avoid anyone on the way there, which you managed with much ease despite your worsening condition. Once you reached your room you shut the door without bothering with the lock. Stripped to your underwear and crawled back into bed without a sound. Curling up under your soft thick duvets you shivered and slowly cried yourself into a feverish slumber.

Natasha stayed behind to finish her reports, which she easily could have done hours ago without your incessant coughing and sniffling and all round ill noises. It only infuriated her more as she worked quickly, alone and welcoming the silence since the end of the meeting. When she finished up the work she was just about ready to give you a piece of her mind. And thats what she was gonna do. She had strong feelings about you prioritisation of work over wellness and she was gonna share them with you whether you wanted to hear or not.

Easily, she threw open your door and it hit the wall with a bang, enraged she didnt notice your crumpled whimpering figure writhing under the duvet.

"Sniffle a little louder next meeting." She comments loudly and sarcastically before instantly wincing at the sight of you in the bed.

Instantly her whole demeanour changes into one of care and pure unhidden worry. Natasha crouched over your trembling figure on the bed. Quickly she removed the pile of blankets from overtop and pressed a palm to your forhead before just as swiftly pulling it away with a frown. You were boiling 38°c at the very least and yet your body was still shivering. Without thinking twice Natasha knew the best thing for you was a cold, very cold shower.

She carried your somehow still sleeping figure easily into the bathroom as if you were no more than a light weight to her, which you probably were considering her max dead lift. Gently and ever so carefully she sat you down in the bath before turning the cool shower on next to you. Adjusting it so the water pressure was lower than usual so that it maybe less of a shock for when you fully woke.

Soon after the water began to flow your eyes opened to the hazy view before you. Natasha knelt over the bath making sure you were just alright. When you noticed the water and the bath, definitely not where you fall asleep you began to panic. Quickly flailing much like a fish out of water. Thrashing to get out the bath and attempting to scrabble to your feet. Natasha noticed your sudden frenzy and much quicker than you could, grabbed a hold of your hands halting your movements while whispering affirming words to you.

"Shh sh its okay. Your just in the bath, don't worry were just trying to soothe your fever." She begins to rub your palms slowly in a way which soothes you and instantly slows your panic as you go to rest your head on the bathroom wall.

"Hm don't do that darling. Try and stay awake while your in the bath, just for now." She's says quietly afraid to worsen the headache you already had as she coaxes your head off the wall. "That's it good girl. You can do this."

Her small praises would have usually annoyed you and felt almost condescending but right now they were almost enough to make you smile. She was making you feel as if your feeble attempts to stay conscious were really doing anything.

"M' so tired." You mumbled out a response that slumped together into your mouth so it was barely understandable to Natasha yet she still smiled and nodded at you, not wanting you to feel any worse than you already did.

"That's okay sweet girl, the sooner we get you out the bath and some medicine down you the sooner you can sleep." All the while she kept rubbing at your hands and fingers to keep you grounded in the moment. "I'm going to find you some fresh clothes just stay here."

You nodded but the minute Natasha left your head flopped back against the wall as if magnetised towards it. Upon her return with fresh clothes Natasha tutted.

"You really aren't well, are you?" A small attempt at a nod on your part did not surprise her one bit. "See if you told someone earlier we wouldn't be here right now. You have to ask for help when you need it." She knew her words meant little to you in your current state but she wanted to start bedding them in now nonetheless.

"Now, do you need help getting dressed? There's no shame in needing the help."

"Uhm.. I think a bit." Your response was croaky and your voice was beginning to sound worse by the second.

"That's okay, I'll help you then." She gives you a hand getting out the bath and holds you upright as she helps fully undress you. In her panic to get you in the bath she hadn't thought to remove what you were wearing.

You weren't insecure about your body but something like this would usually not be on with you. But right now you knew you couldn't refuse the help Natasha was offering as you could barely even stand still yourself. So begrudgingly you allowed her to undo your bra and slip off your underwear before tossing them in the bath saying something about getting them to the wash later. Putting on the fresh clothes was easier than either of you anticipated as you didn't resist and her strength helped you from falling against the cold tile floor.

Natasha helped you hobble back towards your bed which you instantly fell against ready to embrace sleep again.

"Ah. Not so quick, first the medicine then sleep." She said softly handing you first a couple pills and some water. "For your headache." Begrudgingly you took them and Natasha smiled as she saw the look of grimace on your face finding it both amusing and adorable. "Okay sweet girl just the syrup left, this will help for your throat." You stared at the syrup in your hand with a frown. Just the smell of its contents was enough to make you dry heave and its colour wasn't tempting either. After two minutes of more convincing and praise you managed to stomach it, not all of it but enough so Natasha was happy enough to stop bothering you.

You knew after that you could finally emmerse yourself in a blissful slumber and with little care curled up, face pressing into Natasha who watched over you as you slept making sure nothing interupted your much needed rest.

Tags: @wandasfifthwife @yanaromanov @idkwhatever580 @stayevildarling

[bambi-slxt]

🤍𝐈 𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠🤍

𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕨 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕠

word count: 1.5k

genres: n/a

warnings: mentions of depression medication and mental health, male masturbation

notes from bambi: here you go!

Matt did see everything. He liked to lurk in the triplet’s fandom spaces, and when his mental health was good, he even found it kinda fun, though he would never reveal this aloud. He definitely enjoyed watching those same spaces work themselves into a tizzy at his knowledge admittance–these kids were so funny. So it came as no surprise to him when the Tumblr TikTok video showed up on his feed.

Matt hadn’t had a good night. He’d tried to jerk off earlier, all to no avail. His antidepressants were helpful for his mood and overall outlook on life but goddamn did they make it hard to masturbate. With a snarl, he had pulled up his boxers and opened TikTok. That was over an hour ago, and now Matt scrolled aimlessly on his private account. He was quite proud of it actually. He disguised it as some random fanpage and had made it a personal mission that week to reblog a few videos about himself. No one would know, and he was nothing if not a Matt girl. 

The video on his Following page was formatted simply–a girl in her room, as most of them were, and he saw it was one of his favorite fan accounts. She always had good takes and the drama in her comment section kept him incredibly entertained. She was expressing her fear at his now-infamous “I see everything” line, and with a chuckle, he pressed the heart icon, preparing to scroll away. In his sleepy haze, he missed, hitting the comment bubble instead. What he saw made his head tilt.

user

   oh ik the tumblr girlies shakin rn

      user

         LMAOOOO REAL

      user

         i’m so lost 😭😭😭

      user

         tumblr can’t be worse than here

      user

         wait what’s on tumbler?

           see all 63 replies៴

user

   bro does NOT see everything, he’d be traumatized

     see all 12 replies៴

user

   @ user WHEN I SAW THAT I SCREAMED

user

   you guys are gonna make them quit if you keep doing ts

     see all 241 replies៴

Matt rolled his eyes at that one. He knew it was a valid concern, but he also knew that there were prices to be paid for being famous, and he would take a few weird stories in exchange for the life of his literal dreams. And besides, he reasoned to himself, they were always so off-the-mark anyway that it didn’t even feel like he was reading about himself.

But back to the matter at hand. Matt had never even heard of Tumblr, so there couldn’t be that many triplet fan accounts on there, and he figured that after everything he’d seen on Twitter, he was ready for anything.

“Well this is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbled to himself, scrolling to the end of the “headcanon”, as it was called. Matt read the name of the “blogger” (he was learning so many new terms tonight) that posted it - some strange amalgamation of letters and numbers, with, of course, “sturniolo” tacked on to the end. Matt elected to keep his thoughts on the spelling to himself. “You’re weird for that. All of it.” He swiped out of the app, fully prepared to roll over, go to sleep, and forget all about it.

…

But what else did they get wrong about him? What did the rest of them think he did when he had sex? Matt figured he should check that “sturniolo triplet” hashtag one more time. 

He sat up properly for this, sighing as he flicked on his bedside lamp. It illuminated his room, its soft light showcasing the woodsy decorations he’d furnished months ago. With a grimace, he opened the accursed app once more and began a deep dive.

It seemed the entire community centered around “smut” of him and Chris. He saw a few for Nick, a handful for Nate, all of which he scrolled past quickly, blinking them away. He wasn’t trying to dive that deep.

The first thing Matt noticed was that almost every story had a line of photos at the top, like a faux header. None of the images contained anything amiss–all were photos posted by him and his brothers throughout the years, pictures taken by fans at shows, and the like. No, the real stuff lay in the words. This was a community–he could tell that much from the amount of reposting–of very good writers. Many of their stories spanned thousands of words with multiple parts and real plots woven throughout. And there were a lot. It was dizzying. He adjusted himself. 

There were stories for almost every situation, some even making him a drug dealer (though most writers seemed to think that out of anyone, it would be Chris, which he found hilarious due to the fact that Chris couldn’t tell a convincing lie if his life depended on it), a mafia boss, a father, a mechanic, or simply just a doting boyfriend. Some wrote him as a harsh, domineering man, quick to take his bratty girlfriend to task. Some wrote him as a needy submissive individual, and the words they used made his head spin. Matt adjusted himself again. His dick didn’t normally bother him this much. Maybe he needed new boxers. 

Matt himself only had a bit of experience in the wide world of sex. He knew there were some wild kinks out there, but he found he was never much interested in watching that kind of porn, and he’d only been with a few girls his entire life, none of whom had ever asked him to perform such tasks on them, so he really didn’t know what he liked and didn’t like. As he lay in his bed, his lamp casting fuzzy shadows over his room, Matt couldn’t tear his eyes from the screen.

They think I’m capable of actually…spanking someone? Am I? If she wanted it, I guess…Apparently I’m some sort of sex god, super posessive, I have a breeding kink, whatever the fuck that means, and Chris and I fight over girls a lot. To him, that was the most unrealistic–he and Chris had wildly different types. 

The sheer amount of stories depicting him absolutely rearranging the guts of the reader or y/n (he still had no idea what that meant) made his brain short-circuit, and he tried to tap out of the one currently pulled up. But alas, Matt still had no idea how Tumblr worked–the images below every story just took him deeper, and it was one of those images that he misguidedly clicked on, an innocuous lilac purple, covered in sparkles. Seems harmless enough.

As Matt tapped around, trying to get back, he found himself on another account and thoroughly lost. An underlined word in the first post caught his attention–concepts. Subtitled below were the words, “short headcanons about the triplets! both sfw and nsfw”. He tilted his head. ‘Sfw’? What does that mean? A quick Google search quieted his questioning. Surely a “safe-for-work” headcanon would be fine to read. He tapped the link, and it directed him to a simpler page, one organized using just his name and Chris’s, each one with links below them. His thumb hovered over one near the top, its title mildly intriguing–“soft!dom!matt”.

Then he paused. Was he really doing this? His dick began to throb. He should have just left the whole thing alone, but now…well, now he had to know. 

Five words in and he was pumping his rock-hard cock in his hand. Matt’s neck strained, his left thumb shaking as he tried to scroll to read more. Such a short piece of fiction and yet…

His stomach began to tie itself into knots. The more he read, the more he panted. His whole pelvic region felt tingly and his cock was so warm in his hand, and getting warmer by the second. This was different than anything he’d ever jerked off to before–this wasn’t a video, or even a naughty selfie from a girlfriend. This was pure porn, about him bringing some unnamed girl to completion over and over again. Matt didn’t even know that was possible. The unnamed girl couldn’t even handle his cock, that’s how tight she was-

The moment he realized this fact, his nuts clenched and he spurted cum all the way up to his chest. Pumping furiously, even raising his hips into his hand, he continued his explosive orgasm, letting out breathy groans as he did so. His chest heaved with heavy breath, and Matt felt the beginnings of a headache forming behind his eyes from how hard he’d just finished. He collapsed on his bed, sheets askew, pillows rearranged, staring blankly at the ceiling.

And then Matt realized which head had been doing all his thinking for him this entire time. Letting his now-limp dick flop to the side, he let out one more gasp of air. “That was weird,” he said aloud into the empty room. “Never doing that again.”

notes from bambi: i referenced my own work because it didn’t feel right to use anyone else’s without their consent, and i wanted to put this out today, not because i think my writing is better than anyone else's or because i think matt would prefer mine over yours. remember that it’s all just fiction and we write for fun. i hope you all enjoyed!

request to be on the taglist under this post right here

tags: @pinksturniolo @malirosee @st7rnioioss @nonat-111 @cindylcuwho @evie-sturns @h3arts4harry @fanficsbymia @dazednmatthews @sturniolo-rat @mattsmad @sturniolo04 @bellasturn @blahbel668 @yomamaslays4lyfe @stasiesturn @pleasantlycrazyworld @ariqolyx @wh0resstuff @krissy4gov @coochiedestroyer1 @madisturn @mattspolitank @sturnsxplr-25 @xtravrgnoliveoil @raysmayhem-72 @sturnpooks @certifiedstarrr @melanch0lybby @freshloveforthefit @xoxo4chrisss @stunza @meerkatzthings @zivall @sturniolopepsi @that1fangirll @wh0schl0 @sharksworldd @mattscoquette @chrisslutx @sturnzsblog @solarsturniolo

[daydreams-after-dark]

Behind the Curtain |

han jisung x reader x minho (Minsung x fem reader)

MDNI // SMUT

Pairing: mean!han x bratty!fem reader x helpful!minho

Synopsis: you tease your boyfriend Han before a show and he's not happy. So he punishes you, leaves you in a needy mess, and sends Minho to look for you. What happens when Minho can't resist your needs?

word count: 3.5k

MDNI // CW BELOW

CW: oral sex in semi public place, edging, mean Han, bratty reader, unprotected p in v sex, unprotected double pen 2 holes.

a/n: this is a slight rework of a request / ask from my other blog, but feel that the readers here might enjoy. X. Shorsha.

It probably wasn't a good idea to have tagged along to the show. All you did was distract him, making him all needy, his grabby hands clawing at the hem of your shirt. “Come on, baby, I have to touch you before I go out there.” he said “Come on, please baby, let me get a taste of your sweet pussy”, “Come, on… no one will know.” He teased, even though, literally anyone would know what was going on if they happened to walk in the room.

“It won’t take long.” He whispered as he pushed you to sit on the makeup table, knocking bottles and brushes all over the place.

“But Hannie,” you cried as he pushed your underwear to the side and his fingers squeezed into your very tight, very wet, very needy pussy. “You need to practice your vocal warm ups. You don’t have time for this… You need to wait until after the show.” You tried to sound stern.

Han looked at you devilishly. “You’re right. I do need to do my vocal warm ups.” He said low, and he knelt down between your legs, lifting your skirt and pushing a thigh wide with his unoccupied hand. Han proceeded to practice his vocal warm ups, trills… all that, right against your clit, whilst his fingers roughly fucked you. You didn’t last all of five minutes before you were screaming his name and your legs shook around his head. Surely the others would have heard you, and Han secretly loved that idea.

He looked absolutely fucked out after you came all over his face, your wetness smeared all over his mouth and chin, messing up his stage makeup. “Baby,” he said with pleading eyes. “Can you suck me off before I go out there?” he bit his lip and stared at you with Bambi eyes.

He just would not be told that he didn’t have time for this. So you decided to be the biggest fucking tease. “Okay baby, sit on that chair there. Let me take care of you, okay? Sweet sweet baby.” You had his cock out in no time. It was already rock hard, you knew he wouldn’t last long as you stroked his length and teased the tip with your tongue. “So much precum, honey.” You noted. Then you really gave it to him. A mix of long, slow strokes, and swirls of the tongue on the head, then taking him all the way in to the base, and then almost pulling off entirely. “Fuck.” You heard him mumble under his breath. You stole a look up at his face and you knew he was in a whole other world. And so very close.

That’s when you popped off entirely and packed his beautiful cock away, zipping up his trousers and slapping him on the thighs. “It’s showtime baby.” You announced brightly and left him there while he came to his senses and realised what the fuck you just did. And let me tell you he was not happy.

From your view of Han from the side of the stage he seemed absolutely fine to anyone else, except you knew better. His tight leather trousers were struggling around his package. Lucky they were black and already somewhat wet look because you were sure he would be oozing precum in there. And he seemed a lot more aggressive with his rapping.

But it wasn’t until he was walking to come off stage and he made eye contact with you that you knew you were fucked.

It was exactly what you wanted.

You thought he was going to take you backstage and fuck you against the door to the make up room, or bend you over the sink in the bathroom while he made you watch in the mirror. You were definitely NOT expecting him to grab you arm and take you behind the stage curtain that partitioned off the unused section of the arena.

You did not expect him to push you to the floor while he sat in one of the seats and whipped out his cock. “Finish what you started, baby.” he said rather cruelly. This is the Han that really gets you going. You thought about teasing him further, but you realised that you didn’t actually have a lot of time before someone would come looking for you both.

Han didn’t wait for you to protest and grabbed the back of your head and pushed your mouth down over his cock until it hit you in the back of the throat. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in, baby? Letting me make you come, and then you leave me like that.” he panted as he thrust himself up into your throat. He attacked your mouth with a mix of anger, aggression and so much passion. All he wanted was to feel you around him when he came. How dare you tease him like you did. He was making your eyes water and your saliva ran down your chin and hand and landing on his lap. Han loved it messy. “Look at you, taking my cock like this…” he tangled his fingers in your hair pushing you down even further than you knew was possible, and absolutely fucking your mouth without any care for you.

Why should he care when you left him like that? He threw his head back, growling as you felt his cum shoot down your throat. But he was still hard. And you hadn’t learned your lesson. He stood up and lifted you off the floor only to force you to kneel on the seat with you holding onto the back of the chair. He pushed your skirt up around your back and tugged your underwear down. Grabbing onto your hair to both hold you in place and to use as leverage, as he lined up his cock with your entrance. “I’m still so fucking hard, and you still need punishing.” He sighed and he pushed into you in one motion, slamming into your cervix and making you cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. Han paid no attention to your needs, this was about punishing you and chasing another climax of his own.

You smirked to yourself. You enjoyed teasing him in the hopes you would unleash this version of Han. The wild, frenzied, relentless, brutal? Han. The one where he just wanted to use you for his own pleasure. He was always so attentive and caring, and sickly sweet (which you love), but when he was like this, fuck it did things to you. He’d never fuck you like this is you merely asked. You had to taunt and push him into it. Make him snap.

Han came inside you with a loud “fuck!!!” and pulled out of you without a care for your climax. You whined at the emptiness when you were so close to coming. Your vagina clenched around nothing. You turned to see Han putting his cock away with no intention of helping you as his semen started seeping out of you onto your legs, the chair… everywhere.

“But Han?” you say helplessly. He just looked at you unamused “You’ve got five minutes to make yourself come and clean yourself up, before I send Minho to look for you.”

You were left absolutely stunned and highly turned on by what just happened. You set to work to try and relieve yourself before you were caught by Minho.

.....

Han left you on the arena chair, in the semi darkness, panties down around your legs, cum leaking out of you. Not to mention the cum all over your chin either. Your skirt was hiked up around your hips. You looked like an absolute sight. But you were still so horny from what just happened.

Your legs were jelly from kneeling on the chair, so you decided to plonk yourself down on the seat (also getting cum on the chair - Han had given you fucking bucket-load), and set to work on trying to relieve yourself. You slid your hand down between your legs and closed your eyes, concentrating on bring yourself to orgasm.

Han headed backstage and immediately looked for Minho. He wanted to teach you a lesson for edging him and leaving him so fucking horny that he knew he was showing a partial erection the entire time he was on stage. But he also loved you. You were his sweet angel whom he loved more than anything in the universe. Part of him thought the idea of leaving you needy and in a compromising position extremely arousing, but at the same time he didn’t want to just anyone to find you. Plus, he had an idea.

“I need you to go find y/n. I’ve left her in a…um…situation… and I really don’t want anyone else to find her in the state she’s in.” He instructed his friend. Minho appeared disinterested, but on the inside he was intrigued, and maybe a tiny bit concerned that a random person might come across you first. “I just need you to go make sure she’s taken care of… and then bring her back.”

Minho had his suspicions on what he might see when he found you. He knew what you had done to Han before the show. He heard you both through the door before the show. He saw the look on Han’s face when they’d finished on stage, and he saw him grab your arm and pull you back behind the curtain.

Minho knew you liked to play games with Han. He knew you liked to bring out that rough, aggressive, brutal side of him. I’m aggressive too, Minho caught himself thinking.

Then he saw you. Minho stopped in his tracks, his breath caught in his throat. “Jesus fucking Christ” he whispered. He’d never seen anyone look so beautiful and at the same time so fucking dirty. You were reclined as much as you could be, legs parted with your panties around one of your knees. Your skirt flicked up around your waist and your eyes were closed. You had no idea Minho was standing there, fixed to the spot, mouth agape, staring at you as you dipped your fingers through your dripping folds.

“I just need you to go make sure she’s taken care of… and then bring her back.” Minho hadn’t missed the devious look in Han’s eye when he’d said that. Did Han actually mean…?

As Minho stepped closer to you he truly saw the state you were in. Your mascara was smeared down your face. So Han fucked her mouth ‘till her eyes watered, hmmm? There was an obvious sticky substance plastered to your chin. Yep, he definitely fucked her mouth. Minho’s eyes drifted over your body. Your breasts were heaving under your shirt, hard nipples showing through the thin fabric, a sheen of perspiration on your chest. Then he dared to look down between your legs, where your fingers were buried inside yourself. Minho sighed at the sight. “Fuck!” He muttered under his breath when he saw Han’s cum coating your inner thighs.

Minho’s dick was hard in his tight leather trousers. He couldn’t help but imagine being inside you, having your tight walls choking his cock. He felt his dick twitch when he imagined filling you up mixing his cum with Han’s. Minho sighed louder than he had meant to. Your eyes flicked open. Your eyes locked on each other.

Shit. Thought Minho swallowing hard, but he couldn’t look away. He stared at you with his classic unamused glare, that you could only imagine was him trying to snap you out of this ridiculous neediness you were currently exhibiting.

But the look had the opposite effect on you, and only made you even more aroused. He looked so sexy in his stage outfit, his makeup was still pristine despite him having been sweaty earlier while performing. You thought about the way he moved his body on stage and the way he rolled his hips. So strong. So powerful. So sexy. You bit your bottom lip at the mere thought of him rolling his hips against you, between your legs, inside of you, and you felt your walls flutter. You wanted him to fuck you.

“Minho…” you squeaked, your voice sounding so needy, your eyes hooded.

Minho shook his head. No please don’t make this harder than it is. He thought.

“Please… Minho… I need to you to help me. I’m supposed to be quick…. But I’m having trouble.” You said timidly, almost shyly, although your current situation did not scream “shy” at all.

Minho sighed, feigning annoyance, and sat down on the seat next to you. “Look,” he said “I think you should just tidy yourself up and come back to the makeup rooms. You look really slutty right now you know that right?” He wanted to touch your body so bad, but you were his best friend’s girlfriend.

He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. And then you were on him, straddling his lap, grinding yourself against his stage clothes. Your wetness and Han’s cum all over him.

It felt so good to grind yourself against him, against his erection, the friction of his trousers against your bare clit offering some relief. But you needed more. You smashed your mouth on his and threw your arms around his neck. Minho could taste Han on your mouth which made him hornier than ever, and he grabbed your face, holding it still so he could plunge his tongue into your mouth, kissing you rough and urgently.

His hands slid up your thighs to squeeze your ass, lifting you off his lap slightly, then pulling you back down as he rolled hips up against you. You both let out a moan. “Fuck, you’re making this so fucking hard.” He breathed as he repeated the action.

“Come on Minho…” you cooed. “Hannie left me like this… all needy… all ready… for you to find me.” You said breathy.

Minho let that sink in for a moment. Maybe you were right. Maybe he could help you. Minho really wanted to help you.

You stared at each other for a long moment.

Fuck it. Thought Minho.

“Lift up.” he instructed gruffly, pushing you off his lap enough for him to reach his fly. Your eyes lit up as he freed his cock, watching it spring up and hit him on the stomach. “You want it, then get on.” He ordered as he gripped your ass with one hand and lifted you up enough to sink you down over his length in one swift motion.

Minho wasted no time, fucking you hard and steady from the start. “Is this what you wanted, hmm?” He growled.

“It is what I wanted, Minho…Hannie made me want it…” Minho’s mind froze but he didn’t slow down his thrusts. “It’s true,” you continued, oblivious to Minho’s confusion. “he’d say little things… putting ideas in my head… making me wonder what your cock felt like.” You closed your eyes concentrating on chasing your release.

“But, Minho… I’m pretty sure this is what you want too.” You rolled your hips. “I’ve seen the looks you give me and Han.” You leaned in to his ear “I know you were listening through the door earlier.” You whispered.

It was true. It was what Minho had wanted. For so long. Oh how he’d imagined going down on you, wondering what you tasted like. He’d imagined you sucking his cock too, and how it might feel to have your lips around it. He’d imagined what your tight, wet cunt felt like. He never imagined he’d really get to feel it squeezing around his cock like this. He grabbed your hair and pulled your head back so he could attack your neck, sucking and nibbling, marking your skin. You moaned, your climax building rapidly.

Han’s words from earlier repeated in Minho’s head “make sure she’s taken care of…”

Minho’s hand slid up your shirt. “No bra. Should’ve known.” He said squeezing the flesh of your breast. “I need your mouth on my nipple. Now.” You panted. Minho hurriedly lifted your shirt, and attached himself as instructed, making you cry out at the pleasure/pain as he bit down. One hand was still glued to your ass assisting you as you bounced wildly on his cock.

“What do you imagine Han would think if he saw you ride another man’s cock like this? Like a fucking whore?” He hissed, not slowing down.

You laughed “What do you think he’d think?” You challenged.

“Fuck! He’d probably want to watch!” Minho replied. “You’re both such fucking exhibitionists”.

“He’d probably want to join in.” You added.

“I do want to join in.” A voice said.

——————————-

Neither you or Minho knew that Han had actually been watching from the beginning. A row back and seven seats away. His heart had exploded with happiness as he watched his best friend and you having sex. He loved you both dearly. He wanted to give you anything you wanted. But he also had his own fantasies. Like sharing you with Minho. When he realised that both you and Minho were attracted to each other, he set his plan in action. Even though neither of you had said anything, you didn’t need to say anything. Han knew, and he had been secretly planning a moment like this, where he could get the two of you together, and today’s events made for a perfect opportunity.

——————————-

You and Minho didn’t even slow down when Han appeared at your side. “You fucking asshole, Han.” You choked “leaving me so horny.” You didn’t mean it, you were just trying to spur him on.

“Yeah, Han… not sure it was really a good idea to send me to take care of her.” Minho winked at you. Tormenting Han was something you and Minho did well individually, but together, it made Han hard as fuck.

“You’re girlfriend is such a cockslut, I think she’d happily take two.”

This was exactly what Han had fantasised about. It was also what you had fantasised about. And Minho had definitely fantasised about it as well.

“You two have played right into my hands. You do know that don’t you?” Han smirked freeing his dick. “Is that so?” Minho sneered taking you in deep kiss.

It felt so incredible on Minho’s cock, but as soon as you sensed Han coming up behind you, and his hand land on one of your ass cheeks, you suddenly became wetter than ever.

“Pull her other cheek for me.” Both men had one hand on each of your cheeks spreading them apart and holding you still, so Han could press the tip of his penis against your other entrance. Minho halted his thrusts. You weren’t sure how Han was managing it in such an awkward position, but you soon stopped caring once he pushed the tip inside.

“Fuck!!!” You cried out. “That’s it baby, you can take it. I need you to take it. Fuck… your so… tight.” Han grunted as he inched his way in.

The stretch felt unbelievable as you were filled and stretched with two cocks. “How’s it feel for you, Minho?” You panted as Han began to thrust into you slowly. From Minho’s expression it was evident that he was trying to compose himself.

He gulped “it’s so fucking tight. It’s like your choking my dick.” He closed his eyes and started to move too. “Fuck… Han… I feel your dick moving against me.”

“I can feel you too, baby.” Han replied.

Shit! That’s hot. You thought. “Please… harder… faster… just fuck me.” You cried.

The men built up an unrelenting rhythm as they fucked you over the edge, coming hard and squeezing their cocks, and laying limp against Minho’s chest.

Minho had been close to coming for a long while, although he hid it well. But now that he’d taken care of you, he let himself go, releasing himself deep inside you with a few final thrusts and a long groan.

Now that you and Minho were both still, Han picked up the pace, tugging on a fistful of your hair and slamming into your ass until he too had come, filling you up once again. That was Han, always horny and always ready to coat your insides.

“Fuck, baby…” you weren’t sure if Han was talking to you or Minho.

But it didn’t matter. It also didn’t matter that you had no idea how you were going to clean yourselves up.

All that mattered was the feeling the three of you felt for each other, and that you had finally done something about it.

If you enjoyed this, please share with your Minsung x reader friends xxx and leave me a comment if you enjoyed. Luv you, Sorsha

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @kangnina @weareapackofstrays @rixenluv

[moonstruckme]

May I please please with sprinkles and a cherry on top request, more protective! Sirius with reader who gets scared or startled easily?(maybe a hufflepuff reader?) Like I'm scaredy cat, I just want him to make the scary go away! Literally anything your beautiful brain thinks up will be amazing as always

Thanks for requesting lovely!

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 635 words

Sometimes walking at night can’t be avoided, but you don’t love it. Every shadow, every passerby who drifts too close, every bird taking off from a nearby perch, makes your heart race and the hairs on your neck and arms stick straight up like an army of useless soldiers standing at attention. A few blocks ago someone had swung open a gate, and you’d jumped into the street. 

You’re telling yourself you’re already halfway home, only a small ways to go, when—

“Stop there!”

Your entire body seizes up, and before you know what you’re doing you’ve hopped around on the spot, turning to face the threat with your hands held out in front of you as if to shove them away. 

Sirius only continues walking toward you from a good few meters down the sidewalk, one dark eyebrow raising amusedly. 

“Well, I was going to tell you off for walking by yourself at night,” he says, “but with reflexes like those it’s clear I’ve wasted my time. You’ve got it handled.” 

“Oh my god.” You cross the distance to him, giving your boyfriend a very heartfelt and somewhat desperate hug. “Don’t scare me like that!” 

Sirius bands an arm across your shoulders and palms the back of your head. He strokes your hair comfortingly. “See, that wouldn’t ordinarily be such an insane request, but I’ve found with you it’s actually quite difficult to avoid.” He presses his lips to the crown of your head, his teasing inlaid with fondness. “What do you think you’re doing walking around by yourself in the dark, hm?” 

You get the sense you’ve saved yourself from a much sterner tongue lashing by your fright at his arrival. You push this small advantage, pressing snugly to Sirius’ front and looking up at him with your best bambi eyes. “I’m just trying to get home,” you say. Your boyfriend looks like he knows what you’re about, but he smooths the baby hairs at your temple consolingly anyway. “Dinner at Marie’s ran long, and I didn’t want to spend money on a cab fare or anything like that.” 

“That’s what I’m for, darling.” Sirius squints his eyes at you. They glint in the low light, more playful than mean. “You’re supposed to call me when these things happen, not try your luck and hope for the best. Understand?” 

“Yeah, sorry.” You relent easily, more than happy to have him as an escort and as exceptional company. Sirius lets you go, starting in the direction of your place. “How’d you know I was here anyway?” 

“Saw you from inside the takeaway place a couple blocks back.” He casts a glance your way, mouth kicking up at one corner. “You looked like someone’s pet rabbit that had gotten loose. You’re definitely going to attract the wrong sort if you’re walking around looking all scared like that.” 

You laugh. “I don’t think I could have looked that bad.” 

“Oh, you’ve never looked bad. Just a tad flighty.” 

Sirius sets a sure hand on the small of your back and grins when you jolt. You loose a breath, shaking your head at yourself as a dizzy little giggle spurts out of you. 

“God, sorry.” 

“Who else was it going to be, sweetness?” he teases, sliding that hand to your waist and using it to tug you closer, into a rough sort of half hug. “You need to ease up. I’ve got you.” 

You lean into his side, doing an exceptionally poor job of feigning any reluctance. “And what’s going to stop someone from mugging the both of us?” 

“Oh, I’m not worried about that at all.” Sirius gives your waist an affectionate squeeze. “You’re quick as anything, baby. If someone comes for us, I know you’ll be out of here before I can even turn around.”

[hotluncheddie]

For @steddie-spooktober day 3 prompt : apples

rated: T | cw: none | tags: old queers, mechanic eddie munson, they're in love

🍏🍞🍏🍞🍏

Steve is stirring the saucepan of soup he made as strong arms wrap themselves around his waist. The softness of Eddie’s middle-aged belly pressing up against his back, the familiar scratch of salt and pepper stubble as his husband leaves a kiss just under his ear.

Steve’s sighs happily, leaning back into Eddie’s warmth.

‘It’s really that time of year again already?’ Eddie mumbles, his face buried in Steve’s shoulder.

Steve hums, turning the stove off and shifting them so he’s leaning against the counter and facing eddie, wrapping his arms around his neck. ‘Yup, collected them from the tree this morning.’ He supplies, tucking a looses strand of Eddie’s work sweaty hair behind his ear.

Eddie’s eyes close sleepily and he opens his mouth. Every year Steve makes apple bread from their apple tree in the back garden, and every year Eddie acts like he’s surprised; before asking Steve to make more once there’s none left to pack with his lunches.

Steve breaks off a bite from the now cool loaf next to him, pulling it off with his fingers because it’s not like he’s sharing with anyone but Eddie. Getting a bit with a chunk of apple inside and feeding it gently into his husband’s waiting mouth. Eddie licks the crumbs from Steve’s fingers and steve marvels at how Eddie’s crows feet are always visible now, not just when he smiles. Older and wiser but just as pretty and goofy as he was when they were 20.

They’re really growing old together, who would’ve known.

‘You’re an outdoorsman and a housewife, how’d I get so lucky?’ Eddie mumbles, opening his big Bambi eyes again as mischief grows on his face. ‘The boys at the shop better be ready to hear me braggin’. “He does it wearing grey sweatpants too.” They’re young, they know what that means.’ Eddie teases, squeezing Steve’s ass with his perpetually oil stained hands.

‘You do not tell them that!’ Steve argues, cheeks flushing at the implications of the nicknames and gossip.

‘I employ them! I can make them listen to me talk about anything. My hot husband who bakes for me and literally forages outdoors is definitely on the yap agenda tomorrow.’ Eddie says matter of factly, nuzzling against Steve’s hot cheek. ‘They made enough fun of me after seeing what a beanpole I used to be in old pictures, least I can do is brag about the guy who turned me into a bear.’

Steve purses his lips but he’ll never not enjoy the way Eddie shows him off, how special it makes him feel. And he can’t help his brain going a little fuzzy as Eddie crowds closer, his bulk pressing in all over. It’s Steves favourite place to be; pushed against anything with Eddie’s weight holding him there.

So when Eddie removes Steve’s glasses gently, setting them on the counter and holding firm at the base of his skull, Steve goes willingly. Always has and always will, mouths dipping together with the sweet taste of autumn on their tongues.

The familiar burst of love that Steve feels for Eddie every day, every year, every season, filling his chest.

And he hopes, knows, that he’ll get to feel it for the rest of their life. For all the autumns still to come.

🍏🍞🍏🍞🍏

Tag list (message to be added/removed):

@scoops-aboy86 @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @marvel-ous-m

@thecatkingsthrone @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor

[longing-for-the-past-times]

The four times you fell asleep on Ghost and the one time Ghost fell asleep on you - two.

simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

word count: 3,157 (got a bit carried away)

synopsis: after a mission, you and Ghost end up in a safe house, waiting for exfil. Both of you are exhausted after two days of being under the fire, but will any of you give in to exhaustion?

notes: I definitely did not expect so much support on the first part, so thank you very much, I really don't know what to say. I hope you enjoy this as much as the first part!

reader's callsign is Bambi (she/her)

find it on ao3 part one part two part three part four part five

masterlist

two.

You hadn't slept properly in two days, but at least the mission was a success. As successful as a mission can be when you have to spend the night in a deserted safe-house, in the middle of nowhere, waiting for exfil.

At least you were not alone, you reasoned, as you lay on the ragged couch and pulled out your sniper rifle. And perhaps you could get some shut-eye before dawn if your partner would assign you to the first watch.

There was a catch though. The person you ended up in the safe house with was none other than your Lieutenant, Ghost. And after the embarrassing scene where you fell asleep on him on base last week, you were mortified to be in his presence, especially when you were alone and there was no one there to fill the awkward silence that would settle in. He hadn't even teased you about it—only that one time, immediately after you groggily awoke on his shoulder.

The memory of the moment lingered in the back of your mind: the exaggerated way in which he rolled his shoulder, as if to emphasize your weight almost put his arm to sleep, and the glint in his eyes, perhaps delighted to catch you off-guard. If you hadn’t been so busy avoiding him for the following days, you would have noticed his slight shift in demeanour towards you. Whenever you were in the same room, his gaze would linger on you, his eyes visibly softening as if he was silently reliving the scene. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but after he had the time to fully process the interaction, he’d felt oddly satisfied with himself - he made you feel safe and protected, even if it was only for a fleeting moment.

So why wouldn’t you look him in the eye when he tried to speak with you?

“You can go rest, L.T., I’ll take the first watch!”

He definitely did not want to give you that look, not when it had been two days since you’d last exchanged any words with him. But he was stubborn, and you were also stubborn, and the last thing he wanted was to argue with you.

“There’s a bed in the other room. You can rest there till they get us out.”

So he chose his preferred tactic: deflect your words, plainly overlook them, as if they were merely a background noise in the conversation.

He did not miss the way your shoulders tensed up or that you’d stopped cleaning your sniper riffle. The fact that your breath stilled was not lost on him, but he kept pretending he was busy checking his own riffle as if it would determine you to listen to his words and get some well-deserved rest. And yes, he was stubborn. But you were more than stubborn. And you had also won several debate competitions in high school:

“I was only involved in surveillance, I believe I am rested enough to take at least the first watch!" “We are not having this conversation, Sergeant!”, Simon rolled his eyes in annoyance, all too aware that you were only beginning your argument. “You haven't slept in two days!” “Well, technically I was in a position that allowed me to rest more than you! I was literally resting on my belly for most of the time while you were out there, in the line of fire!” "We both know that's not how it works, Bambi!", he let out a frustrated groan that made you widen your eyes in his direction. It was the second time he expressed himself in such an uncharacteristic way, not even seeming to be bothered afterwards by the sudden display of emotion.

But that did not make you back down. Instead, you propped your sniper riffle on the small coffee table, purposefully ignoring him as you busied yourself making the necessary adjustments so that it pointed towards the middle of the wooden door. Anyone who would try to barge in without identifying themselves would be pierced by your bullets before realising what was actually going on. Ghost placed his skull mask on the same table and discarded most of his heavy gear, until he remained in the tactical vest, a basic black balaclava covering his face. As he got up from the couch to check on his ammo, you also started to get rid of the heavy layers of your sniper gear, most of which was covered in grass and dirt. You wouldn't even bother to clean it up when you got back to the base - the messier it was, the more realistic it looked on the field. As you were checking that all knives were in their sheaths, your gaze fell on the skull plate casually tossed next to your riffle. You were so used to it being plastered to Ghost’s face that seeing it carelessly thrown on the table seemed out of place, inexplicably domestic even. The more you thought of it, the more you realised that you’d never seen it anywhere but on his face - he must have kept it stowed away somewhere when you were stationed at the base.

If you were sane and did not have a death wish, you would have at least asked for permission before leaning in to touch it. No, scratch that, the thought of the action itself would not even cross your mind: no one touched L.T.'s mask, whether it was on his face or not. But you were exhausted, the two days of constantly being on the lookout, with little news of your team, starting to take a toll on you. And the sight of splattered blood across the cracked white surface was troubling enough to make you let your guard down and start scrubbing the mask vigorously with your sleeve, in a seemingly futile effort.

You were so concentrated on the task at hand, eyebrows etched into a deep frown, that you did not notice the creeping silhouette that was lingering in the doorway. The sight of a 6'2" man, coming to stand directly in front of you with his arms crossed in a suggestive stance was completely lost on you as you kept rubbing your palm against the red stains, huffing in annoyance when they did not seem to go away. He must have been involved in some form of close combat as the blood clearly wasn’t his and although you knew he was more than capable of taking care of himself, the thoughts of what could have been if he hadn’t paid enough attention, or if he’d been outnumbered plagued your mind. You were not supposed to worry about him like that. He was just your superior.

And also the person you fell asleep on once.

In the meantime, Simon was at a loss for words. He too was tired, having spent the last 48 hours being shot at and almost stabbed a couple of times. And perhaps, if he had to spend the night with someone like Soap, he might have gone to sleep for a couple of hours, letting the demolition expert keep watch. But he couldn’t allow himself such a liberty when you came into the equation- the need to protect you, to keep you from harm’s way was too intense, almost burning inside him. He could not fathom the thought of trying to rest with you having to spend the night in alert, on the lookout for any potential enemies. It was not that he did trust you with such a task, he was aware you were fully capable of it, but it just didn't sit well with him.

Yet there you were, your hands holding a piece of him. More than a couple of years have passed since he'd donned the persona of Ghost and the mask that you rubbed your knuckles against was an integral part of it. Never before had someone dared to touch his mask, he knew that everyone was too scared of it, of the persona he'd created through countless missions and stories. He was used to hearing people whispering behind his back, scrawny recruits sloppily pointing at the skull plate he'd spent an entire night stitching to a balaclava. He was also aware of the bets made on that topic and the gossip that claimed he must have been some kind of mutant, his physical features too grotesque to be displayed to the world.

There was a time when he himself did not know why he was wearing it, but the familiar weight on his face was a comforting sensation, a lover's embrace. That was the moment he knew he was becoming one with Ghost. That, and the fact that people couldn't tell his mood based on his facial expressions anymore. It was sort of liberating, not having to be judged based on what your face looked like at a certain moment.

He slightly tilted his head to the side, both amazed and alarmed that you hadn't noticed him yet. He hoped it was because you didn't think of him as a threat, not because your situational awareness was dimmed as your exhaustion increased. And he had to bite back a smile when he heard you mutter a string of curses under your breath when the crimson stains didn't seem to go away. Should he tell you only bleach does the job?

He decided to keep that secret to himself, loudly clearing his throat to get your attention. At that point, he was willing his eyes to stay inexpressive in spite of his lips twitching as your reaction to him was worthy of your callsign.

You couldn't help but flinch at the sudden intrusion, quickly placing the mask back on the table. You gave Ghost a tight-lipped smile, all too aware of the heat that was spreading across your face, your eyes resembling those of a deer caught in the headlights.

"I'm so sorry, Lieutenant, definitely did not mean to pry like that!', you profusely apologised, trying, but failing, to not look into his dark orbs.

Those damned eyelashes, why did they have to be so perfect?

But Ghost was too distracted by your doe eyes that he did not process your words properly. He wouldn't ask you to repeat whatever you'd just said, but he also did not want to ignore you, not when you spoke to him more than you did in a week, so he said the first thing that came to his mind: one of his army puns.

"Why did the mask go to therapy?"

You blinked back at him, not quite accepting that he'd simply brush it off like that. But his look was so expectant, almost willing you to answer what you knew was going to be one of his bad dad jokes, that you had no choice but to gesture him he could go on.

“It had too much 'bloody' emotional baggage.”

You cringed visibly at the reply, letting out a small sigh as you sat back on the couch, with him plopping next to you:

"Not gonna lie, but that was really bad, Ghost!"

He gave you his usual unimpressed look and you could see his balaclava shifting as he opened his mouth to answer, but a huge yawn interrupted him. A huge yawn that you tried to cover with both of your hands and that made you give him a sheepish look, that of a naughty child who pretends to be innocent.

"Wanna hear another?" "Oh God, spare me-" "Why did the tired operator try to stay awake during the mission?"

It was your turn to look unimpressed. He was definitely making it up on the go.

"Because she thought falling asleep on the job would be a 'mission impossible'."

His balaclava may have been on, but his eyes were sparkling again, a small glimpse of amusement in them. You wished you'd known a couple of one-liners just to be able to keep that glimmer as it was.

"You're really enjoying yourself, aren't you?" "All I'm trying to say is that you should get some rest, Bambi. I know you think I'm also tired, and believe me, I am, but you know what do two tired operators make?"

If you were taken aback by the amount of words he put into that sentence, you did not let it show. Instead, you caught on the quip and dutifully replied:

"Two dead ones." "You're a quick learner. So just get some sleep, even half an hour would do it. In the bed, on the couch, hell, even on the floor if that's what you want-" "Ok, ok, you got me, Ghost! But on one condition!" "Let's hear it." "When I wake up, it's your turn to rest. Two tired operators are dead operators, but one rested and one tired operator are just as much!"

The defeated mumble that you got as a response made you smirk, purposefully avoiding his determined gaze, currently set on you. Shaking your head in defeat, you trudged to the bedroom, took the weighted blanket from the bed and placed it on the couch, unaware that Ghost had scooted over to make you more space. It was not a complete success, he'd rather you took the bed that at least had a mattress more comfortable than the springs from the couch, but he would make the compromise. And you would be sleeping in his presence again, not that he had any feelings, good or bad, towards it. He would just relish in the vulnerability of the moment and his role as your protector.

"Alright, wake me up in 30!", you warned him as you got under the blanket, leaning on the arm of the couch, bracing your knees to your chest.

The deep hum you got as an answer sent a soothing sensation down your spine, and you couldn't help but smile as you cuddled up in the fetal position you chose. Deep down, a part of you felt selfish for giving in to the weariness, but the Lieutenant was right: fatigue led to mistakes which could lead to getting you killed.

Besides, you would also make sure he got some rest before morning. You were confident you could do it, you just didn't know how. Yet.

***

The mark of half an hour came and went, but Simon did not shift from his rigid position facing the entry of the safe house. He couldn't bring himself to wake you, not when the faint noises you occasionally let out were a testament to how much you needed the break. And it was not like he could have slept as peacefully as you did - now that he had time to think and reassess the mission, his mind was plagued by alternate scenarios and what-ifs. What if Laswell's intel pointed them to the second building in the compound instead of the first, and they would have been blown up to pieces as soon as they'd broken in? What if Soap hadn't warned him through comms of the two hostiles that were headed towards him, from his blind spot? What if someone had noticed that their men were falling even when no one in the building was shooting at them, and sent someone to look for the sniper positioned nearby?

His trail of thoughts was interrupted when he felt a familiar weight near his leg. He momentarily froze and had to make an effort to look down at the couch and see that your head was resting dangerously close to his leg, your hair gently brushing against his worn-down tactical pants. You must have somehow shifted in your sleep, as the weighted blanket you covered yourself with was forgotten on the floor, your left arm hanging limply on one side of the couch. You were lying on your back, soft snores leaving from your half-open mouth, and all Simon could think of was that your head was almost in his lap.

Why did he want it to be there? He recalled your embarrassment when you fell asleep on his shoulder, back at the base. You would be mortified if you woke up with your head in his lap, and tactically speaking, it would make it harder for him to react to an immediate threat. Then why was he craving the contact like he craved the feeling of the sun on his face on those first days he wore the mask?

**

Another hour passed and Ghost had no intent of waking you up. You truly must have been exhausted, he thought to himself, as he took in your soft snores and occasionally small sighs. The night was dark and silent, and the only source of light that trickled into the room was a dingy lamppost from across the road.

Eventually, Ghost let his eyes wander over your sleeping silhouette, hooded eyes hungrily lingering over the delicate details accentuated by the faint glow. And in that moment, you were as boundless as the sea and vast as the universe. You were lost in a world woven from your dreams, while he, awake and aware, found himself trapped in a dream of his own. And he was in deep that he did not realise when he let his arm rest above yours, leaning his head onto the back of the couch. The grip on his combat knife remained firm, ready to jump into action if needed, but his eyelids were heavy, too heavy for his liking and the soft cadence of your breathing was too inviting. He would only rest his eyes for a bit, not that he could fall asleep like this. He shouldn’t fall asleep like this, not when he is supposed to keep you safe.

**

The faint crackling of your communications could be heard across the room, mingling with the sunbeams that filtered through the heavy curtains. Grunting in annoyance, you rolled on your side, looking for the blanket you’d covered yourself in earlier. It took your mind a moment to register you were not in your bed, but on a couch, yet it was too late to prevent you from rolling into thin air, the heavy thud of you falling on the floor reverberating across the room.

Ghost opened his eyes in an instant, eyes promptly directed to where you had been sleeping. The absence of your body sent his half-asleep mind into a frenzy, hands scrambling for a weapon which he pointed to the floor. His cold gaze softened when he saw your bleary-eyed figure, a smile dancing on his lips as he took in the string of curses you kept muttering under your breath.

“Watcher 1 to Bravo 0-7, how copy? Exfil’s inbound your way. I say again, exfil’s inbound your way.”

Not taking his eyes off you, Ghost pressed the button on his comms, wishing he had Soap’s Polaroid at hand:

“Bravo 0-7 to Watcher 1, copy.”

taglist: @neoarchipelago

[fritz-federleicht]

Stage experience/ Vessel x reader

Summary: You just wanted to put a full water bottle under his keyboard during the gig.

Words: 914

You travel a lot with the band. At first it was just because you wanted to be close to your boyfriend Vessel to make sure he's okay while touring. But it quickly became clear that you were the go-to person for everything. You take care of some of their social media, do small tasks during set-up and make sure the guys feel comfortable.

This includes their performances. As always, you stand backstage and watch the stage from the side. Everything goes as planned, the show is perfect. Your boyfriend jumps across the stage like Bambi, fooling around with the others.

However, you notice from your position that his water bottle, which he has placed under the keyboard because of his strained voice recently, is almost empty. Which is not unusual considering the concert is already halfway through.

A low hum escapes you. You grab a full bottle and enter the stage without attracting attention. You sneak past behind II and his drums to Vessel's keyboard. You quickly place the new bottle of water to make your way off the stage unnoticed.

Well, not if Vessel has his way. He's spotted you. Like a predator, he's set his eyes on his prey and approaches you with long, graceful strides.

As you straighten up, you realise that your attempt to sneak on and off the stage unnoticed has failed. Vessel's attention is completely on you.

From the way he approaches you as if you were his everything, you can imagine that he's ready to flirt with you in front of the roaring crowd.

He won't kiss you on stage, you know that for sure. He would never reveal an insight into your relationship to the public. And definitely not a hint about his identity.

Your boyfriend gets closer and closer until he holds out his large hand, dipped in black body paint, for you to take.

You look at him a bit uncertain as you can see past him at the large crowd. He replies with a warm smile only you can see because his back faces the audience and wiggles his slender digits.

Eventually you grab his hand, and a roar fills the venue. Vessel guides your fingers to his lips before gently bending his torso in front of you as if asking for a dance.

A grin creeps onto your lips and before you realise it he's placed his hands on your hips and turned you around in his arms. A surprised noise escapes from your mouth.

You look ahead, into the sea of faces and phones eagerly filming the whole experience. Your breath catches. All eyes are on you and the charming man who looks like a god in his costume. He looms behind you, hovering like an intimidating guardian.

A low growl escapes him next to your ear that is only meant for you to hear. Vessel pulls your back closer to his bare, toned chest and allows his hands to roam gently over your sides. Finally, he snakes his arm around your waist. His free hand finds its way up to your chin. Gently guiding you, he tilts your head back until you rest your head against his broad shoulder.

He looks down at you and starts to sweep the pad of his thumb fondly along the curve of your lower lip. Which causes you to part your lips instinctively.

People scream excitedly in response and you want to turn your head towards them. To look at them. But you can't. Vessel holds your chin firmly yet gently between his fingers. You're trapped in his arms. Almost like before every show, when he won't let you go until the last possible second.

In the corner of your eye, you see III's slim figure and you can literally imagine his big grin under the mask.

Your gaze shifts back to Vessel, who now slowly slides his index finger down your throat. He brings his hands back to their original position on your hips and gives you another gentle squeeze. A silent thank you. Then he pulls away from you with an small smile in your direction and strides with swift, elegant steps to his mic to make sure he doesn't miss his turn.

For a moment, you stand perplexed in front of the keyboard. You watch as your boyfriend reverently holds the mic with one hand while singing and slowly slides his fingers up the microphone stand with the other.

Nobody pays attention to you anymore. Vessel holds the crowd spellbound, has them wrapped around his finger. And this fact alone impresses you. The ease with which he manages to attract the attention of the entire crowd.

The thought of what task you actually wanted to fulfil snaps you out of your thoughts. With a gentle smile on your lips, you head backstage, past II.

Behind the blind, you glance down on yourself. Black body paint sticks to your hands and clothes. And you're sure you've got some on your chin and throat too.

But you're used to it. Vessel's lack of patience would have left stains on you anyway. He just can't help but feel you before he showers the dirt and sweat from the show off his body.

You decide to enjoy the performance further and not to clean yourself now. He'll mark you as his again in his own way anyway.

[katyawriteswhump]

(You’re just) too good to be true 

For @astrangersummer week 3 prompts, flowers and/or hugs. Thanks to bananas and yesdanger on discord for the extra prompts to get me going. I have tried to get as many in as possible. 

Summary: Steve wakes up in hospital after everything is over and can’t quite believe how well everything has turned out…

Rating: T. WC: 1460   CW: None. Other tags: Steddie, platonic stobin, angst, sickfic, hurt/comfort, temporary amnesia, fix-it fic, everybody lives.

…

Steve flutters his eyes open and spies Robin sitting by his bed. Mascara streams down her face, and her hair’s a literal disaster zone.

“Steve! You’re awake!” She grabs his hand. “You’re gonna be okay. The doctor should be here any minute.”

Doctor!?! Where the heck am I?

His throat proves too dry for words. Robin garbles way too fast for him to understand and she’s wringing his fingers ever tighter.

If she’s touching me, I guess it can't be rabies.

His memory triggered, the shitshow slams back. First, the bats, the bites. Then everything that happened after, until they journeyed again into the Upside Down to try to kill Vecna.

Oh hold on, scratch that. 

To fail to kill Vecna.

Staring blankly through Robin, he fixates on the terrible parts. Eddie lying bloodied and dead in Dustin’s arms. Dustin sobbing his eyes out. Max was pretty much lost too, and Vecna was alive, gone to ground, and…

What happened next? Why am I in a hospital bed? Jesus, I was fine! 

There’s one of those IV thingies in his arm. He shivers though can’t tell if he’s cold or hot. The doctor arrives, jostles him, talks at him, shines lights in his eyes. He’s not in pain, but his brain is all woolly, and he’s confused and weak and lost.

He needs a hug more than ever in his life. Robin peeps at him over the doctor’s shoulder, bouncing like a spooked bunny-rabbit, then she’s gone.

It’s all too much.

He quits, sinking back into the darkness.

…

When Steve next pries an eyelid open, he spies Eddie breezing into the hospital room. Eddie joins Robin, who has moved to the window to pick at her nail polish.

Eddie is gone, which means… Oh, no, no, no, no, no! I’m dead too? Or dreaming?

His throat is achy and tight. He closes his eyes again, hot tears welling. More memories trickle back.

“Make him pay,” Eddie had said.

He recalls that last, lingering look between them. The one that slammed him like a freight train, because... Wtf? For some strange reason, that moment doesn’t feel like the end of a story anymore.

It feels like a beginning. Which is just dumb. 

Eddie is no more.

He peeps again, watching a dude who is very definitely Eddie pouring bottled water into a vase of flowers on the windowsill. Robin seizes the bottle from him: “What are you doing, shit-bird? Those are silk—his mom brought them. They don’t need water.”

“Riiiight.” Eddie pulls a silly face, which Steve finds freakish levels of adorable. Suddenly, he wants to crush Eddie to him, tell him that he’s insanely happy he’s here, even if this is some crazy dreamworld, and…

… he wants to shove his tongue into Eddie’s mouth and kiss him stupid.

Huh?

Steve licks dry lips. Most bewildering of all, he somehow knows how awesome kissing Eddie is. As if they’ve done it before.

More than once.

Eddie sneezes dramatically. “If those flowers are fake, I’m allergic to WASP chintz. Which checks out, I guess.”

Robin laughs, though it’s sad and nervy. He catches a glimpse of Eddie’s bambi eyes, and they’re anxious, haunted, too. Then Lucas and Max walk in.

MAX? She’s in a coma!

Steve’s head throbs miserably from trying to make sense of this mad place. 

He quits and drifts back to the darkness.

…

When he next peeps, Robin and Eleven are sitting by his bed, sharing a packet of cool ranch doritos. 

Which makes less sense than ANY OF IT.

Robin’s gotten real picky lately about sharing food. At least, with anybody but him. He’s vaguely pissed, because these two hardly know each other. The way they’re huddled on the same chair, like close buddies, suggests otherwise.

Yeah, he’s vaguely pissed. And kinda jealous. He sort of hates himself for being needy... but he really wants that hug. 

Then another memory flashes back. Some alien desert landscape, with Eleven blasting Vecna with everything she’s got. Eddie sprinting toward him—tailed by what looks like a medium-to-large demogorgon with at least a dozen extra flailing limbs—and Robin yelling, “Steve! El’s got this—help Eddie!”

He finally forces his eyes wide enough for them to see he’s watching. “R-Robin?” he croaks.

“Steve!” She leaps to her feet, nearly knocking El and the chair flying. “You’re really, actually awake this time? Please say yes.”

There’s noise and confusion. The doctor arrives again, checks Steve’s vitals, then bitches that there’s too many kids in the room: “It should be family only,” she says.

“We’re his family,” argues Robin. “His parents only come during official visiting hours.”

Robin is allowed to remain. She helps him sip water, and then he says, “Look, I think was dreaming earlier, or off my head on meds, because I saw you with Eddie, and I know that’s impossible, because…” He swallows hard, mumbles the hateful words: “He's gone, right?”

“Oh my God, you don’t remember?”

“Jesus, Robin! Remember what?”

“We won, Steve. Everyone lived. We even got Crissy back. Vecna’s the only one who’s history. If you hadn’t got hurt, it would’ve been the perfect revenge.”

This time, he manages to take more of her story in. He gets lost in the part where Robin and Dustin figure out time travel—some crazy shit about the proximity of alternate dimensions causing rumples in the space-time continuum. The rest of her tale unleashes a slew of badass memories that squish all the terrible ones into the dirt. Instead of Eddie being dead, he recalls…

“You and Eddie totally slayed this nasty-ass demo-squid-monster,” says Robin. “It got pretty intense, and when you survived, you had, like, an EPIC hug. Aaaand might’ve kissed. Then, later, you threw yourself at Eddie to save him from flying debris, then you rolled into a crater, and he wound up on top, and…”

Steve suddenly recalls that moment vividly. Eddie straddled his hips, and his own hands landed not entirely accidentally on Eddie’s butt. Once they’d gathered their breaths, Eddie leaned forward, swiped hair from his face, and whispered:

“About what you said to Wheeler. If you still want to win her back, that’s fine, I’ll back off, but… just so you know, six kids is cool with me, Stevie. Not like we need to adopt. When you’re around, they simply rock up.”

“So, yeah,” Robin says, ripping Steve from these mind-blowing revelations, “it took us half a dozen attempts to get things right. In the final boss-fight, it was just you, me, Eleven and Eddie. We were lost in the Upside Down for weeks, before we exploded Vecna into a billion disgusting pieces. Because you're you, you were closest, got caught in the blast. You lost a lot of blood, but all important appendages are still present and correct, including, um… any important appendages you were particularly worried about. Not that I’m saying you were, but… Ugh!” She facepalms. “This so isn’t where I meant to go with that.”

He faintly smirks. “You dug that hole, not me, Buckley.”

“No need to gloat. You’re gonna be fine. Everyone is going to be just fine.”

It’s still too much to take in. One question bugs him the most: “Eddie and me, erm… How far did we..?”

“I didn’t stand there and count the bases, Dingus! He’ll be back in five. Ask him. But, you know, there was talk of picking out rings, getting matching tats and—”

“You’re kidding?”

“A bit. Seriously, by the third week, you two seemed chill. Happy. I really hope you remember it all soon.”

He takes a beat. Warmth pools in his chest, because everything Robin says sure as heck feels true. He gives her hand a little pulse, and their fingers intertwine.

“Robin,” he says. “At the risk of sounding downbeat, it’s all a bit too perfect. I’m kinda worried I’m dead.”

“Oh! You’re really, really not. I’m all sticky and gross 'cos I was here all night, but… would a hug help?”

He nods, levers himself up a little, suppressing a wince at the effort. He wraps the arm unencumbered by the IV around her, and she awkwardly cuddles him. He rests his cheek on her bony shoulder, and breathes deeply, while she rubs juddering circles in his back.

She’s sweaty and clumsy and real.

“You’re not dead, I promise,” she whispers. “If you were, I’d be so mad with you, after all that effort to fix things. Besides, you still got hurt, and we were all out of time travel opportunities. Long story. Anyhow, it's been hell, till the doctors said you’d be okay, and even then… We’ve been so scared.”

Her trembling shakes through him. He tries not to sniffle, but he can't seem to help it. Everyone survived. Eddie’s alive. Eddie and he are…

His heart gives a crazy squeeze that says everything he needs to know.

“As soon as you’re out of here,” whispers Robin, “this summer is gonna be the best ever.”

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

[kairoot]

the hide my bfs here prank one with jay is so real 😭😭 i cant wait to see the break up one 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 hopefully u don’t plan on making it too angsty or anything :00

enhypen, break-up prank ꒰♡︎꒱ . ⁺

genre: fluff, a little emotional but not too angsty!

warnings: mentions of ending a relationship, nothing too much, jay’s is a text message oneshot

requested: yes!

pairing: enha x gn!reader

author’s note: of course, i didn’t plan for this to be too angsty, mainly all jokes! 😽💕

🔖 — heeseung.

instantly turns into a confused Bambi

doesn’t take you seriously at first

but then he’s kinda worried

a rollercoaster of emotions tbh

esp after you tell him it’s a prank

heeseung had noticed that you were acting weird all day. whenever he went to kiss you you didn’t kiss back, or when he talked to you your responses were short. he wasn’t sure what it was.

as he entered the room, he saw you sitting at the edge, scrolling through movies on the tv.

he sat on his knees in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“love?” he called, your gaze not on him but you could feel his on you. you gave a half-hearted hum, eyes still on the tv.

“is there something wrong?”

“hee,” you started, putting the remote down. “i think we should break up.”

his heart sunk for a moment. that was so random, you weren’t serious right?

“babe,” he laughed a bit, taking your hand in his. “seriously, what’s wrong?”

you finally look down at him, a sour look on your face. his expression changed, doe eyes now sparkling up at you.

“did I.. did I do something?”

the prank didn’t last very long since you weren’t able to resist the look in his eyes.

“oh, baby,” you wrapped your arms around him, cooing. ok, now he was really confused..

“i was joking honey, i can’t leave you.”

that made his insides all fuzzy. but he was still indeed, confused.

🔖 — jay.

confused pt2

esp when you call him by his first name

is lowkey upset

he’s in denial

cause how are you gonna try to break up with THE park jongseong??

over text too??!

will not let you “break up” with him

🔖 — jake.

might actually break down in tears

he’s a bit emotional guys

is literally going through a list of things he did in his day to check if he did anything wrong

shut him up with kisses please before he starts panicking

definitely don’t try this prank on him again

“hey, babe-“ jake sat next to you on the couch, going in for a kiss. he stopped his sentence though, when you dodged the smooch he was about to give you.

“jake, omg this is why i wanna break up with you.” you playfully rolled your eyes. his turned into puppy ones, now leaning away from you slowly.

“w-what? did i do something? am i being too touchy? clingy? did i forget to put the seat down? did-“

he began to rant before you grabbed his face in both of your hands and brought your lips to his soft plump ones.

he made a confused noise but still melted into the kiss.

“I’m confused.” his words were muffled by your lips still on his, his hands coming to rest where yours remained on the sides of his face.

“i can never prank you.”

🔖 — sunghoon.

smug.

knows you’re not serious

cause once again, how are you gonna leave HIM?

does not take you seriously

“hoon, we should end this.” you said to him, leaning on the countertop in your kitchen. he stood at the stove, attempting to make dinner for the both of you.

“what, me trying not to burn dinner?” he chuckled a bit, that deep laugh making your cheeks warm. you tried not to get distracted by his charm and continue with the prank.

“no, our relationship.”

he snorted, not sparing you a glance, “y/n, please.”

“what?”

“you love me way too much to leave me. i’m just too handsome and lovable.” he shrugged, continuing to stir around dinner in his pan.

“you’re no fun, sunghoon.”

🔖 — sunoo.

ok?

then leave?

will not complain 😹

only cause he knows you’re not serious

if you were, he’d obviously talk to you abt it

but because he’s not fooled by your little jokes anymore he’s like fine 🤷🏽‍♀️

“sunoo, we should break up.”

“okay.” he responded from the sofa, scrolling through his phone. he didn’t even look up at you, just shrugging his shoulders when he answered.

“okay?” your mouth was agape as you laughed a bit.

“mhm. bye-bye.” he waved somewhere in your direction, still not looking up from his phone.

“SUNOO, YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO FIGHT FOR ME.”

“nah, im good.”

🔖 — jungwon.

is like wtf

wdym break up

what did he do?

lowkey has a hard time processing what you just said

you walk side by side with jungwon up to the library the two of you would be studying at. you stopped outside of the door, a faux pout on your face.

“what’s wrong, love?” jungwon stopped to look at your face as your gaze seemed to be on the ground.

you turned to him, “wonie, we need to break up.”

“what?” his eyebrows furrowed below his beanie. he shifted on one foot, eyes still on you as he tried to process the words that escaped your lips. the words he never, ever wanted to hear.

“we have to break up.”

“y/n, did you seriously bring me all the way here just to tell me that?” now he sounded irritated, his jaw clenching.

you finally looked up to see his expression, actually feeling bad now.

“no, baby, im just joking.” you hid your giggle with a small smile, wrapping your arms around his torso.

he sighed, shaking his head while mirroring your smile. he placed a hand on your head while the other came to wrap around you.

“come on, we’ve got some studying to do.”

🔖 — ni-ki.

wants to take you serious when he sees your face but he just can’t

ki is the prank master, he can see right through your little jokes

is like, “you? wanna leave me? yea ok 😹”

clowns you 100%

ni-ki plops on your bed, ready to share different details about your day when he notices your expression.

“what?” he lifts his head, propping himself on his elbows.

you sigh, not looking up, “i wanna break up.”

there was a loud silence before it was interrupted by ni-ki’s loud laugh. he cackled for a good while, grasping his stomach as you looked at him like he was crazy.

“are you really laughing right now?”

“i-im sorry, it’s just-“ he snorted, laughing even harder this time. you sat there, arms folded. you could never fool someone who could pull pranks better than you.

⟢ milan’s notes: another short reaction im sorry 😞

taglist: @haechansbbg @contyynishimura (message or comment to be added)

[ninibeingdelulu]

— headcanons ft. eren yaeger, armin arlet, jean kirstein, levi ackerman, sae itoshi, meguru bachira, oliver aiku, michael kaiser

How the aot and bllk boys (man for levi duh) react when they’re jealous. (Separated)

armin & meguru :

Armin's all gentle smiles and soothing words, even when jealousy eats at him inside. But that boyish gaze goes all moony and distant if he thinks someone's getting too flirty around his girl.

Meguru wears his heart on his sleeve in the most adorable way. Can't hide the wounded puppy vibes and dejected pouts whenever another guy checks you out - retreating into insecure mumbles until you shower him in reassurance and cuddles.

Both prefer dealing with jealousy through quiet clinginess. Armin starts finding every excuse to sidle up beside you, sneaking little hand-squeezes and playing footsie under tables until you're the sole target of those puppy-dog blues again.

As for Meguru, just try prying his koala-hugs off you once the green-eyed monster rears up. Trailing you room-to-room with those massive bambi eyes begging for constant little pecks and whispered affirmations that all's well.

Honestly, their reactions are so damn wholesome - making you melt into puddles over how lucky you are. Because Armin and Meguru have zero bones about baring those insecurities and need for constant validation when jealous, appealing to your nurturing instincts.

jean & oliver :

Jean's the definition of saltiness incarnate when worked up over some douchecanoe making moves. One second snapping sarcastic remarks in true wiseass style, only to deflate into petulant, brooding silences while scowling absolute daggers at the source of his ire.

Oliver radiates this aura of sneering superiority like the cocky asshole he is - until you bring another guy around the mix, that is. Then it's like watching his ego shrivel up in real-time as those cutting snide comments get more frantic and eager to impress.

Neither outright admits feeling jealous, naturally. Jean's too much of a prickly tsundere to open up like that, venting through increasingly aggressive banter and machismo overcompensation instead.

Oliver on the other hand masks his emotions behind bravado and nonchalance - until he's outright sulking like a petty bitch. Little comments about how he's "surrounded by delusional fuckboys" whenever your eyes linger too long.

But strip away those salty layers? A surprisingly clingy neediness to their flare-ups - making grabby moves and crowding in close until your full attention's back on worshipping their prowess. Jean snaking his arms around your waist or Oliver literally tugging you into his lap with smug satisfaction.

levi & michael :

Living embodiments of the 'ice cold stoicism' stereotype when jealous - seemingly nonplussed while internally simmering. But those sharp gunmetal gazes take on this menacing bite, silently peeling challengers apart with lethal intensity.

You'd never know it bugged Levi much, aside from that imperceptible twitching tic in his jaw. Not until he corners you alone in some secluded nook to silently tower over you with molten pewter embers, finally unleashing that restrained possessiveness.

As for Michael, his suave composure never slips - unless you really look for the micro warning signs. Those broad shoulders squaring up a fraction, faintly challenging pheromones wafting off his form at random passersby catching your gaze in a silent warning: 'She's mine.'

Neither demands verbal reassurances or constant affection when jealous (like they'd ever be so weak). But they crave physical reminders of ownership - whether Levi outright hoisting you against the nearest wall for frenzied, filthy claims...or Michael wordlessly seizing your collar before devouring your mouth into searing, desperate plunders of dominion.

They'll punish you later for inciting such unbecoming loss of control, of course. But for those volcanic instants, you've never felt more secure as their coveted prize to be marked and possessed at their impulse.

eren & sae :

Imagine a pair of possessive, volatile firebrands who wear jealousy like a hair-trigger aggression when set off. Because god help any poor sap who so much as breathes in your direction the wrong way when Eren or Sae's on the warpath.

Eren makes zero effort masking those raging, emerald-hot glowers whenever he's pissed over someone angling for your attention. Never one to pull punches - he'll barge over and start snapping, chest-puffing intimidation tactics like the alpha hardcase he is.

Sae, as for him, is this cool, cocky swagger on the surface over intruders. But piss him off enough, and that's when the foul-mouthed tirades rain from his laidback charisma...openly sneering about "handling the competition" while issuing blatant possessive displays.

Neither boy wastes effort on subtext or 'hints.' If jealous, they become wildly handsy and overt in staking aggressive marks - yanking your bodies flush together before ravaging any visible piece of flesh into lurid lovebites and hickies as clear 'backoff' signage.

Expect Eren and Sae busting out their filthiest dirty talk, too. Vulgar obscenities about how much their woman fucking craves every growled inch of their exclusive claim on you. How their prowess leaves zero need for any other paltry admirers in your orbit...right as they crowd you deeper into some poor sap's periphery. Absolute savagery.

[buckybarnesss]

sometimes i remember people think stiles and derek don't like each other and i'm just like where? even in the first two seasons when they're assholes that doesn't mean dislike.in fact, dare i say, their issue is they like each too much.

stiles is obsessed with derek hale from jump but he's mad about it for like 1.5 seasons. stiles's held derek's paralyzed, grumpy, bitchy, werewolf ass up by treading water for two hours and was gonna go down with him.

derek is going through The Horrors in s1 so he's a grumpy dick but he chose stiles's home to hide in. the literal sheriff's house. it's unhinged behavior is what that is. the most open we ever see derek in s1 is when stiles's stays to help derek instead of going to play his first lacrosse game on first string than in s2 derek gives him the wounded bambi eyes in the abomination conversation scene. he crawled over broken glass to keep peter away from him. he definitely shows off to stiles a few times for giggles in s2.

[bunnylove1]

.•Vox HC•.

•.~vox x bimbo!reader/vox x fem!reader

•.~warnings! Smut! Fluff! And some sensitive words! NOT PROOFED 

•.~how have I not done a vox x reader on my account yet he’s literally my husband ANYWAYS enjoying baby’s!

•Vox loves when you give him your big doe eyes he finds them to be your sweetest feature

•If your talking to someone who’s way to touchy but your little brain cant realise it he’ll grab your hips and pull you close to him and he’ll introduce himself to the person that was grabby “hi I’m Vox the owner of Vox tech see you’ve meet my girlfriend”

•When he’s working he lets you and Velvette to hang out knowing you and her both like fashion he thinks it’s good for you to be around someone who likes the same things you do “baby you can go help vel with her new line she doesn’t mind, don’t go out of her sight got it” he most definitely tells Velvette to not let you wonder without her there 

•He knows your not stupid (maybe a little)  just a little (A-LOT)  oblivious so he keeps you close weather it’s around others or around the towns of hell

•He calls you: “Bambi”, “Sweetheart”, “Sweetie”, “Sugar”, “My little girl”, “sweet cake” “baby cakes”, My whore”,   “Baby”, “Slut”, sometimes “Dirty girl”

•He LOVES when it’s night and you both can’t sleep so y’all are in the kitchen getting glass of water and your sitting on the counter babbling your little head off and he just goes “Baby, why don’t you drink this and rest your pretty little head huh?” MAKES ME CRUMBLE 

•Vox never EVER lets you near Val, he knows you and Val to well. “No baby you can’t talk to him” “but vox whyyyyy” “because I said so”

•If you have to be in a room with Val, Vox has you stuck to his hip no matter what “No little girl you stay near me okay”

•He loves when your babbling whatever you heard today while helping vel or whatever you watched on tv and Vox just simply kisses you to shut you up

•He loves walking around hell with you, it feeds his ego knowing that the sinners around hell would kill to have a taste of you but your Voxs and everyone knows that and he loves that he feeds off of it

•Now if you say something bratty or start having an attitude he will not hesitate to put your pretty mouth to work “Aww look all that big talks gone now that you have daddy’s cock huh?” 

•MASSIVE DADDY KINK can’t tell me other wise

•He loves when you wear your short skirts but he will not let you wear them out unless your expecting a hell of a night from him

•He likes when you wear a choker with his initials on it 

•everyone knows when yall had a intimate night because you have dark purple spots big and small everywhere on you and big teeth marks everywhere as well

•I have this head cannon that Vox doesn’t let you leave things on him one he’s a big owner and needs to look professional and two he likes being the only one to do that 

•he’ll let you leave small bits but nothing to much but that’s only on good days 

•Vox likes to dress you up, mostly like him but still in your bimbo look he liked matching he finds it endearing 

•when Voxs comes home stressed from one of vals temper tantrums he likes to use you like a big fluffy pillow and just cuddle you 

•never lets you drink while your out unless it’s a special celebration but even then you have to be supervised, can’t let his sweet girl get spiked can we?

•he has a huge turn on for public sex idk why but I think he likes the feeling of being caught/ being watched letting everyone now you are owned by him and him only

•He’ll carry your heels if your feet hurt and even carry you princess style 

•I feel like he knows how to do hair there’s no way vel hasn’t taught him, so he likes doing your hair in the mornings 

•he likes to pat your head for no reason just likes how your shorter than him so he just kinda does it 

•vox definitely likes to fuck you silly, likes seeing you drool and become a mess in front of him 

•he likes giving you baths, cause he can’t himself so he likes to wash your hair and wash your body take a load off of you 

•he’ll let you dress him up time to time 

•has a special seat for you while he’s doing a commercial or anything on tv. It’s always next to him 

•he has a good memory unlike you so he tells you what you need to grab or what you forgot you were doing and what time it is and what your doing today, basically a human calendar

•.~I DID IT OMG, I know some of them went just for bimbo reader so it’s like bimbo reader and just box head cannons, I love you darlings thank you for reading!

[lvrhughes]

Best Friend's Teammate| Q. Hughes

if this does not line up at all, I've never been to rogers arena during hockey season and I literally just chose the first canuck to come to mind to so that's why we've got Brock

word count: 1.9k

pairing: Quinn Hughes x f!reader, platonic!Brock Boeser x f!reader

summary: there’s a family skate and your best friend convinces you to come, the issue being you can’t skate. but he has a solution, the defence man you’ve been crushing on will teach you

warnings: pretty fluff, kissing, falling?

requested: no

not my gif!

“I can’t believe you’ve lived in Vancouver for the past three years and you still don’t know how to skate!” Your best friend, and pain in the ass, Brock exclaimed.

You rolled your eyes once again, the third time this week he’s brought it up.

“Why do keep bringing this up? What’s happening?” You finally pushed.

“There’s a family skate tomorrow and I want to bring you” he finally caved.

Of course there was a skating event Brock would want you to go to. You looked up at him, he had his best puppy dog eyes out and you knew he knew he’d won once you looked at him.

“Fine.” You muttered crossing your arms, “but you have to teach me”

“Deal!” He was radiating excitement. “I’ll see you tomorrow, 10 am sharp Y/n/n” he called walking the path towards his place while you continued to yours.

What the fuck had you just signed up for, oh god. You knew Brock, so why you still agreed you didn’t know. Brock would definitely get distracted and leave you like Bambi on ice tomorrow, hopefully Elias would help you. Maybe Quinn would be there.

Everyone could see the small little crush you were pining over the young defenseman. It was clear to everyone but Quinn.

The morning rolled around sooner than you would’ve liked, having to get up earlier then you’d want. You had to search for the pair of skates you had from when you once tried to skate, several years ago.

About 20 minutes after you did find them, Brock showed up at your door, he didn’t even bother to knock he simply walked in.

“Oh dear Y/n” he chanted through the house, snooping through the rooms for you.

“Bedroom” you called back and waited for him to come.

He came running in, sliding his socks along the hardwood floor.

“You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, but you got to promise you won’t just leave me” you made him swear to that, even though he’d break it at some point.

The drive to the rink was the worst part, you had time to think it over. You, who couldn’t skate, surrounded by hockey players, children, and other adults that could skate, you were bound to embarrass yourself. You tried to shake the thought of face planting in front of everyone but you could, but Brock noticed.

“Calm down, you’ll be fine.” He words barely comforted you but it was enough for the two minutes before you made it in the rink.

“What am I doing here Brock, I’m going to die!” You exaggerated, he let out a chuckle.

“No your not”

“How do you know?”

“Because even if I’m not with you, Quinn’ll be” he beamed.

What did he say.

“I’m sorry what?”

“I got Quinn to help teach you.” Brock looked so proud, you were going to kill him.

“You” you pushed your finger against his chest, “are dead to me.”

You knew you were being dramatic but you also knew he knew it was a joke. The smile across his face said so.

“Come on Y/n/n, he’s like the best skater on the team” he bargained.

“hmph” was all you mumbled out before finding a bench and sitting. Brock followed behind you, carry both of yours skates.

“Let me put mine on then I’ll help you” he offered but by some ironic luck, Quinn was there.

“It’s fine Brock I can help her” Quinn offered, Brock quickly accepted for you.

And so you were sitting on a bench, with Quinn at your feet tying your skates, definitely not how you pictured your Sunday going. He stood up, placing his hand out for you.

“Are you ready?” He questioned, no, but nonetheless.

“I guess” you said grabbing his hand, trying to stand. You hadn’t realized how unstable you’d actually be on skates. You almost immediately fell back, but Quinn was faster, he arms wrapping around your waist to stop you.

He let out a small chuckle, helping you stand up completely.

“Do you want to try getting on ice now?”

“God no, but Brock will kill me if I don’t”

So he lead you towards the ice, you could see Brock doing laps, talking to children as they came to him. He made it look so easy. Fuck it, if he could do it you could too.

Quinn skillfully glided on to the ice, you already envied that ability. He took your hand again, helping you to keep steady when you stepped on.

“Okay, just hold my hands we’ll go slow at first” he was so calm and nervous at the same time it almost scared you. But you did as he said, you held his hand, like you life depended on it, and he slowly skated backwards.

“That's good, just copy what I’m doing” so you tried, and you did it the first few times. The was before you caught a divot in the ice.

“Fuck” you said almost falling atop of Quinn, you quickly rolled off him.

“I am so sorry” you were quick to apologize but ur didn’t seem to care, he had a small smile on his face.

“It’s fine. It happens” and with that he got up and helped you up. This time only taking one of your hands, you missed the warmth he gave but wouldn’t dare say that aloud.

“You remember how to push?”

“Yeah”

“Okay do that, it’s the same as before but now you're beside me.” He was so gentle explaining how to push and glide it made you think skating was the easiest thing in the world, you just couldn’t understand.

He let go of your hand, you shook a little bit but we’re soon comfortable. He skated a bit ahead.

“Okay, now skate to me.” He told you. He had so much confidence in your ability, you thought. But you tried.

You made your way over to Quinn, slowly but at least you didn’t fall. Pushing and gliding your feet like he had shown you.

“Perfect” he said once you’d reached him, he took your hand again. He pulled you closer to him and spun. Giggles left your mouth as he did, he thought it was the best sound he’d ever heard.

“Quinn I’m going to get dizzy!”

He slowed so you were just standing in his arms, it was peaceful. All the sound around had faded, it was just you and Quinn in that moment. His eyes stared down into yours, they were so beautiful.

He was so beautiful. That’s all you had figured out, he was gorgeous and you had a crush on him. Unintentionally your eyes darted to his lips, back they were quick to return to his eyes. You saw his eyes look to your lips quick before letting you out if his arms.

“Come on, let’s go get a hot chocolate, then more laps”

A slight disappointment filled you, but you knew Quinn was too good for you. So you skated beside him, still holding his hand, to get off the ice for a drink.

Once you two both had drinks, and had enough of them for the moment he put them beside all your stuff and brought you back on to the ice.

You skated laps beside him, some laps holding his hand, some without. You preferred the laps holding his hand. A shiver ran up your spine, Quinn noticed.

“Here” he said taking off and handing you the hoodie he was wearing.

“No it’s fine, you’ll get cold.”

“Y/n, I basically live on the best ice, I’ll be fine”

You had no argument against that so you took his hoodie, sliding it over your head. It was warm and smelt like him. You just wanted to curl up with it and never leave it.

Quinn’s heart melted at the sight, you in his hoodie, it was definitely too big for you, but he thought it was adorable.

“Y/n” Brock called, skating over before icing both you and Quinn.

“I see you learned to skate” he snickered towards the fact you were now wearing Quinn’s hoodie and holding his hand.

“Shut up”

“She’s actually doing really well” Quinn contributed. Brock just laughed in reply, almost challenging to what Quinn had just said.

You had to admit, you were extremely competitive and petty. So what Brock had did, gave you reason to try and skate better than him.

“I can skate.” You declared. “One lap and you have to admit that I can skate.”

He nodded, you let go of Quinn’s hand and began around. Brock followed beside you, Quinn behind. It was a peaceful lap, until a small child cut in front of you and if u didn’t try to stop you would’ve ran it over.

“Fuck” you mumbled, now sitting on the ice. Brock laughed.

“Oh shut up, that wasn’t even my fault!”

“I know but it was funny” he couldn’t stop laughing, until Quinn nudged him acknowledging the look in your face.

Quinn was quick to help you up, pulling you into his arms while. You hid your face in his chest, knowing they’d seen your reaction to the teasing. They didn’t need to see your reaction again, embarrassment overcoming whatever you were feeling before. Quinn wrapped his arms around you, it was nice. He was warm and smelt good. The urge to nuzzle yourself deeper in his chest was so strong, you made yourself pull away before you could give in.

“I think I’m done for the day.” You said, getting positioned to skate towards the gate.

“No I’m sorry I shouldn’t have laughed, please you were having so much fun with Quinn. Continue on, I’ll go find the team” Brock excused himself before you could deny, your feet were beginning to hurt making you want off the ice anyways.

“Fucker” you whispered under your breath, yet somehow Quinn still heard.

“Do you really want off?” He looked a bit sad, and you knew you couldn’t say no to the kicked-puppy look he had.

“My feet just hurt that’s all”

“If you want we can get off?”

“No it’s okay, let do some more laps”

He smiled, his smile was so pretty, god you were in love. So you did more laps with Quinn, staying on the ice until you had to leave.

Yet again right before getting of the small child appeared to trip you, this time onto Quinn. Your face flushed, now you laying on top of Quinn.

“I am so sorry”

You didn’t even get the extent of your apology out before Quinn kissed you, it shocked you. You froze for a second before melting into him. Your arms found a place around his neck, his wrapping around your waist to keep you on top of him.

You both did have to pull back for air eventually, much to both of yours disappointment. He helped you up from on top of him, on the ice, and pulled you against him again.

“I am so glad you didn’t yell at me” he laughed, placing a kiss on your head.

"Why would've I yelled at you?" A little confused, your tone laced with it.

"I mean I just kissed you, I didn't even ask." he was soft with his words almost embarrassed, you just smiled at him.

"I'd never yell at you, Quinn. I've loved you since we first met."

"Really? That was like three years ago." he seemed shocked, it was a little intimidating, you had to admit.

"I thought I was the only one" he admitted shortly after.

"You've loved me since then too?"

"How could I could I not?" He had a smile on his face, he was practically glowing.

"I love you so much, Quinn"

"I love you so much more"