#he just yells at Keith some more | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

supernova41st · 8 months ago

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Friday night night funkin dating hcs!!

Warnings: Some nsfw stuff but nothing too far, boob grabbing, bra stealing, nudes but not rlly

A/n: I HAVE ANOTHER OBSESSION UGHHH, anyways!! I’m so happy the fandom is reviving bc of the new update ahh. Also I didn’t rlly know what to put for bc so apologies if you wanted more of him :(

Keith (bf):

He’s such a flower sniffer istg

He’s like a rosy cheeked sweetheart who brings you heart chocolate every time he visits you

No but actually he’s wrapped around your fingers, it’s scary.

His fav dates are you and him alone at his house watching Godzilla movies and laying his head against your stomach while you play with his hair

AND YOU WEAR HIS HAT

Sometimes you’ll send a pic of you in his boxers that he left at your house just to tease him

But whenever he feels silly (which is all the time) he’ll send a picture of him in your bra for funsies

“I can do that too :D”

“0_•”

Keith is such a nerd, playing video games with him is your go to date

You guys would always match, like whenever you two play Mario kart he’d be toad and you’d be toadette

You hype him up sm, esp when playing Fortnite 😭

Y’all know that one Tik tok audio that goes

“Yeah get his ass FUCKING PUSSY TRY THE FUCK AGAIN BITCH, TRY THE FUCK AGAIII”

You do that, and it scares him.

His fav activity? Pot + cartoons.

You guys are the silliest couples ever. Laughing at SpongeBob with fog all over the room until your ribs start to hurt.

“Babes.. do you think that like-Starfires armpits are also pink?”

“…woah”

Pico:

Now when pico first starting dating you he thought you were just another chick to stuff his wiener in.

But soon enough, you guys were both wrapped around each others finger.

He’d kill for you tbh

Pico canonically has abs, so he likes it whenever he’s chilling with you and you just poke/rub them. He thinks it’s the cutest AND hottest shit ever

This man cannot get enough of your boobies, whenever he’s on his phone he’d have his arm around you and casually use your boob as a stress ball.

Sometimes he’ll just steal your bras whenever you’re showering or changing, just so that he can get a fresh look at ‘his girls’ (that’s what he calls them)

“Pico!! Have you seen my bra?”

“Hm? Na babe, I’m js here.”

This sly fuckin ginger

Most of his dates consist of going to his fav burger joint or sleeping over at each others houses

He esp loves the second one cuz he gets to makeout with you, prob his fav thing to do in this life.

Whenever you guys leave any function, like ever, he’ll yell out your ship name as he leaves the room 😭

“Pi-y/n, OUT”

“Babe you don’t have to do that every time we leave..”

Also his dad (Tankmen) loves embarrassing him in front of you.

(Tankmen) “Yeah so Pico kept pissing himself in the bed until 7th grade, shit had me concerned but turns out it was just normal puberty shit.”

(You)“Oh..”

“Dad I’m gonna kill you.”

Lmao he did eventually

Darnell

Darnell has such a big ego on being a ‘cool tough guy’, but when it comes to you it entirely washes away

It embarrasses him whenever he’s around his friends and you come over and start smooching him all over his face, getting lipgloss/lipstick all over him

“Mwah mwah mwah!!”

“B-baby. Babe, you’re ruining my aura.”

But he loves showing you off, you’re like his biggest flex. Whenever he hangs with his friends he always shows pictures of you like you’re his newborn

“Yeah so this is when we went to the skate park the other week and-“

“Dude. This is like the 5th picture you’ve shown me of them.”

Once for Valentine’s Day, he surprised you by spray painting an entire wall of you smooching him. (But like in the style of the fnf stickers they sell)

You were in such awe, you almost cried.

He was so embarrassed to show you at first, but when he saw how much you loved it he was so relieved

You and Nene are such besties

Like, squealing while talking about boys besties

“HII Y/N!!! :33”

“OMG HEY NENE!! ^^”

So when she found out you had a crush on Darnell, she was so excited

You guys became delusional abt him together, like

“NENE TODAY DARNELL LOOKED AT ME”

“STOPP HE WANTS YOU SO BADD”

“IKR”

O and your weapon (cuz everyone in picos friendgroup has one) is a broken glass bottle of whatever your fav drink is

Sometimes you’ll throw in a burning rag in there to make a Molotov cocktail

Also I hc that Darnell has thick silver rings and you love how they feel against your neck whenever you guys are smooching.

He lets you wear them at times but they always slip off because our boy has some THICK fingers.

#friday night funkin #idk #x reader #pico x reader #bf x reader #Keith x reader #Darnell x reader #Darnell #darnell fnf #picos school #fnf x reader #Friday night funkin x reader

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dualityvn · 2 months ago

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Ever since I saw the unhinged Keith doodles I just.. 👀 Like damn, I already was into Keith before but now I'm on my knees for that man - literally onw to get him a ring

Could we get a little headcanons/scenarios about how he would react and act after when MC praised him after murdering someone for them? Maybe throw in some TenTen content as well, I'm curius how he would react too! 🤭

I still find it so funny when you guys call them headcanons /nm But yes, here you are:

If you praised Keith for murdering someone, he would completely lose it. He'd repeat how much he loves you over and over, get on his knees, staring at you with eyes full of worship. You better tell him you love him too or he will go into a different, more desperate frenzy, demanding to know what he needs to do for you to love him if killing wasn't good enough. If you do tell him you love him, he will promise you that he'll kill as many people as he needs to in order to keep you by his side.

Tenebris does not kill the same way as Keith does. After he harms someone, he always expects to be scolded, yelled at, screamed at (and, like, rightfully so). So he is very confused and doesn't know what to do with himself if you praise him. He may assume you're doing it out of fear or you're in some sort of state of shock.

#duality game #yandere #duality keith #duality tenebris

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supernatural-bias · 9 months ago

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𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐥

↳ summary: everyone knew you loved your lazy sundays. but that didn't stop them from bothering you

↳ warnings: mentions of fights and ponyboy getting jumped. nothing serious

↳ notes: could be interpreted as platonic or romantic with whoever you like. just some silly times

↳ song: we're gonna move—elvis presley

masterlist | commissions | carrd

Sundays at the Curtis household were normally calm.

Maybe it was because that was the day before school would start up again for Ponyboy— it used to be that way for both him and Sodapop until his big brother dropped out —or maybe it was because that was the lords day; at least according to the bible. Whatever the case, you knew you could always rely on an unlocked door and comfy couch awaiting you each time you jumped the chain link fence in their front yard. Just as long as it was Sunday.

So, understandably, you were peeved when Steve Randal and Two-Bit had come bursting through the front door looking for a fight.

"Come on man!" Two-Bit, otherwise known as Keith Matthews by his mother and kid sister, but only by his mother and kid sister, was currently whining your name in a way that he would only do if he wanted something. "Those soc's deserve it for what they did to Pony yesterday!"

Warm sunlight from the clear afternoon day peaked through the window panes behind you, lighting up each and every crevice in the front room of the house. A great black and white picture show was running on the TV, the likes of which had captured your attention for most of the day as you lay on Darry Curtis' couch, only ever moving to help out with chores when asked by him or Soda.

You scowled from your spot on that same trashy floral couch as before, flipping Two-Bit off quick enough so that Darry didn't see you. Even though he was in the other room working on dishes with Soda, you knew he would be able to tell. He was magic in a way like that. Annoyingly magic.

"What's with the shake up?" Steve questioned through the cigarette in his mouth, looking down at you from his nose. "Just last week you were itching for a rumble, and now all you want to do is sit and watch TV like some bum?"

"Wrong. Now all I want to do is sit on the couch and watch cartoons like some bum." You corrected him with a bit of snark in your tone, knowing that he hated that sort of thing. You saw Two-Bit's lips quirk up in a smile from the corner of your eye, reminding you temporarily of the shared love of cartoons that the two of you held.

"It's Sunday." Soda strolled in from the other room with a damp rag in his hands, tossing it down on the couch cushions as he went to clap Steve on the back—the way he always did when he saw his best friend. "You know they like their Sundays, guys."

"Screw their Sundays." Steve scoffed without any real malice behind the action. "Dally's on his way over with Johnny right now to meet us before the fight. We just wanted to come and get you before they got here."

With a halfhearted groan you let your head hit the back of the couch. If Dallas was coming over, you knew that the gangs minds had already been made up. Dally could be awfully convincing when he wanted to get his way, and that was more often than not. Really there was no sense in arguing now, but sometimes you had less sense then you'd like to admit.

"I'll tell Darry ya'll are gonna start up a fight." You said in a last ditch effort to keep your lovely spot on the warm couch. You were just met with knowing smiles.

"Awh you know he'd let us go if we promised to not get anymore blood on his floor comin' home." Two-Bit's smile widened, and you knew that he could tell they'd worn you down. That's how it always went when they wanted to fight during an off day for you, and you should be more used to it by now.

With the beginnings of a slow chew on your bottom lip, you mulled it over. Despite what one could think about Darry, that he yelled at his brothers too much or was too hard on Pony, you knew he wouldn't hesitate to get into a fight of his own for one of his brothers, even if he had work the next day. And that was a stone cold fact.

The screen door to the Curtis home squeaked open for the second time in just a few minutes, the entrance giving way to two more figures in dark clothing and greased up hair. One was nursing a cigarette butt while the other swayed side to side in a nervous tick.

"Ready to split?" Dallas Winston let a puff of smoke escape his lips as he grinned, looking around at the small group that had gathered in the living room. Johnny Cade shuffled behind him, and despite the current situation, you made time to send a welcome wave in his direction. He nodded back with a light glint in his eyes.

"Most of us." Soda laughed at Dally's question, ratting you out with a single look in your direction.

"I swear to god man, we do this every time." Dally shook his head as if he'd been expecting this. He looked at you dead on, almost as if trying to pry an explanation out of you this time. You resisted the urge to scrunch your nose up as he did so.

"Don't worry Dal, we just got 'em on the fence." Two-Bit smiled, and you hated that he was right.

With a sigh, you dusted your lap off before getting up, ignoring the small cheer that came from Soda and Two-Bit as you did so. From behind them Johnny smiled that little smile of his.

Dally even let a small one of his own slip, and you cursed whoever decided to give him such long eyelashes. One wrong downward tilt of his head, and sometimes you felt like he could get you to do whatever he wanted if he just asked.

"I'm coming, but next Sunday if any of you so much as ask me into town, I'll start a fight of my own." You pursed your lips. Another cheer rose between the six of you, and somehow you just knew that next week the exact same thing would happen, just as it always did. Good thing it never really bothered you. Nothing these guys ever do would, even though you'd never admit it to them.

"And just to be clear I want you to know I'm only going because it was Pony that was jumped!" You raised your voice through the pre-celebration, trying to stop the smile breaking out across your face from growing any wider. "If it was any of you idiots, I'd go join the other side!"

Playful boo's broke out as Soda slung an arm around your shoulders. A hand was quick to fly up to your hair with an attempted noogie, but you shook your head wildly enough to hault it.

Leaving the security of the plush couch and the drone of the Curtis' TV, you found yourself walking down the street with Dally's cigarette between your lips, taking a puff of it before handing it back to him. As the white smoke drifted up into the blue sky above, you thought about the people around you, and smiled.

Now you just had to hope you wouldn't ruin yet another shirt with blood.

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sleepyangelkami · 9 months ago

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TOUCH STARVED s.harrington

☆ WORD COUNT - 2.5K

STEVE HARRINGTON X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - you were too shy to speak up for what you wanted, even to your boyfriend for something so simple. fortunately for you, he always seem to know exactly what you need.

☆ WARNINGS - mention of pussy whipped, reader has hair, light insecurity, (1) use of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

walking into family video, steve swore he'd never seen such a glum face.

your expression was saddened, not enough to look upset over something but just enough to tell steve what kind of day you'd been having. and believe me, he'd had his fair share of these kind of days.

"you doofus, that's not how you do it." robin argued, as she always was. nothing steve could do for her ever deemed to be the 'right way' however, before he could give back a snappy argument, he snapped his head towards you, the bells of the store giving a quick ring.

robin looked up confused as she received no snarky comeback before glancing towards you. she could have rolled her eyes, how pussy-whipped was this guy? "hey, y/n." she greeted first, watching as steve stepped away from the counter.

"hi, rob." you gave her a sweet, almost shy smile, she returned it in full. robin was very well used to you getting in these little moods, sort of where you shy into yourself. she'd never mentioned it, though, sort of assuming that was just how you were.

"hey, honey." steve was by your side in an instant, snatching up your bag from you so he could hold it. the sight of him had you leaning into him, almost fluttering your eyes shut. a sudden overwhelming feeling of tiredness fell over you. "you okay?"

he was craning his neck to look at you, you merely nodded. "tired." you answered before making your way behind the counter with him.

technically, you shouldn't be behind the counter and if keith were here, he'd surely have something to say about it. but he wasn't.

family video was having one of them slow days that consisted in hardly five customers an hour while steve and robin argued relentlessly on working the stupid computer that had been around way too long for anyone's liking.

you sat on one of the chairs with steve's arm around you. for as long as you could remember, he'd always been like this. touchy.

and truthfully? you were thankful. some days, all you needed was his touch and you didn't even have to ask, merely hold out a hand shyly and it was in yours. but on days like this, even an arm constantly around your shoulder wasn't enough.

your fingers had trailed up to mess with his. his large hand was relatively big in yours, you could lean against his shoulder all the while. in all of this, you could have fallen asleep.

though, that deemed hard with robin and steve's constant arguing. "you idiot!" steve yelled, pushing buttons at the computer and sort of dragging you as he did so. "you're gonna break it!"

"and what if i did?" she argued back. "not like it's worth anything." she would have kicked the computer, had she been right. unfortunately, the computer was worth something, her job.

steve sat himself back on the chair with a scowl before glancing to you.

even the mere sight of you was always enough to calm him down.

"sorry." he mumbled, knowing he was disturbing whatever peace you were getting. you merely waved him off before going back to playing with his fingers.

a couple more customers came in and fled all the same, renting movies that robin and steve would then gossip about as soon as they'd leave the store. oh yeah, horrible movie. i heard the sequels even worse!

it was best for you to leave them do this.

and by seven, it was time to lock up. you stood outside, waiting for steve who was using the key to pull down the store gate.

robin's head came out from underneath, holding her satchel bag. "night guys!" she called after you without turning around. she didn't even have a drivers license so you weren't entirely sure how she was getting home. nonetheless, you'd learned that it was better not to question robin.

"night!" steve called back before turning to you and rolling his eyes. "that girl." he only shook his head and shut his eyes, concealing his obvious irritation towards his best friend.

you only grinned back sheepishly, knowing they despised yet loved one another dearly.

it wasn't until you were sat in the passenger seat of his car, gazing out the window while your hands fiddled with his fingers that sat atop your thigh that he noticed something was wrong. earlier, you'd shrugged it off as mere tiredness and he supposed he believed you.

the night sky was dark and the hot air coming from the car was enough to lull anyone to sleep. yet still, he had a gnawing feeling that you weren't telling him the whole truth.

you weren't a liar, no. steve would say you were many things, never a liar.

however, you had the tendency to hide things from him. not overly important things like seeing someone else or something or other. you just had the tendency to not speak much about your feelings unless directly asked. you'd shy away and sheepishly shrug, not wanting to bother him.

you always had that fear of burdening him.

as the relationship progressed, he noticed this. he too had the fear of burdening. but slowly, you both began to break out of your shells. him undeniably much faster than you.

the stillness of his house told you it was home. the porch lights were on as he led you inside, hand on the small of your back. a couple lights were left on in the house too.

not the large, centre lights.

the warm lamps illuminating the entire house in a cozy aura.

you weren't too sure how you moved from the door to the couch so quickly. nonetheless, you relaxed into the material as the sound of you and steve's show began to play. a new episode every week. it was a ritual in the harrington house. and by that, i mean just you and him.

steve didn't miss the glances you kept shooting him. whether intentional or not, he could see from the corner of his eye, your head move to look at him and suddenly look back at the screen before he could catch you.

when he did, though, he caught exactly what he needed.

you were looking at him all doey, presumably tired however there was something else in your eye, something that gave you completely away.

a longing.

suddenly, everything clicked.

there was a reason you'd been leaning into him so much today, following him around silently like a lost puppy dog. not that he minded, no, he never minded. but he knew something had been wrong and that you didn't think you had voice enough to speak on it.

"what's wrong with you, huh?" he nudged you, voice ever so gentle. though he knew what you wanted, he sort of wanted you to tell him. "been quiet all day."

you leaned your head against the back of the couch, eyes travelling over his pretty features. and he looked especially pretty in the dim lighting of the enormous living room. "'m always quiet." you countered.

in a way, you were far from wrong. more often than not, steve would have to beg you to speak to more people, try get out there because he knew you wanted to. once again, you feared your voice was much too small. "fair point. but you're more quieter today."

you pursed your lips at him. "just quieter." he hummed in confusion. "it's just 'quieter', more quieter isn't the right grammer."

a roll of his eyes was paired with a pretty grin. "see? there's my smart girl. where was she all day, hm? head cloudy?"

truthfully, you didn't know what was wrong. everything just felt so off, all day you'd wanted to be surrounded by him. his embrace, his words, his scent, his everything. and that was becoming a little too much when the cruel world reminded you that it was, in fact, impossible to morph into another human being by hugging them hard enough. "i don' know." you shrugged, voice sort of small.

but steve had been in the game much longer than you.

it started with the simple feeling of his fingers tracing against your cheeks, grasping a strand of hair and curling it between his index finger. he always thought you looked pretty with your hair framing your face. though you were undeniably beautiful in all aspects.

"there something you want?" he didn't ask it in an accusing way that made you sheepishly look away. he spoke ever so quietly, as if careful of disturbing the peace of his rarely quiet house.

once again, you shrugged.

"sweetheart." he gave you this look. this convincing, knowing, look. steve always had a way of communicating to you, even just through his eyes. it was enough for your heart to quench.

he looked as though he knew exactly what had been troubling you, like he knew exactly how to fix it.

how is it that steve harrington seemingly knew everything in the world? sometimes, even he made you feel a little silly. i mean, he was more tuned in with your emotions than you were.

the show that was playing on the tv was low, barely heard as his eyes searched your own. "you know you can ask for anything, yeah?" you nodded your head while chewing your bottom lip. because you did know. steve always made it easy for you to come to him with anything. yet even then, your own shy nature still prevented you from saying all the words that sat against the tip of your tongue. the universe tended to be cruel like that. "c'mere, honey."

his outstretched arms looked like the heaven you'd been searching for.

without second thought, you found yourself climbing into them, breathing out a sigh of relief as your cheek sat itself against his sweater-covered chest.

this is what you wanted.

his legs were outstretched, somewhere for you to sit against while your own wrapped themselves against his torso. there was something so comforting about the feeling of him against you.

he let you relax your face against him, lips shut tight as one of your hands came beneath your chin. while watching the animations flash across the television, you could feel his own arms slinging loosely around your waist, one hand gently playing with the strands of hair while the other traced against your back.

you supposed you weren't morphed into him but this was as good as it was going to get.

perhaps, this was all you needed.

he was gentle, soft and welcoming.

everything you'd been hoping for.

"this all you needed, hm?" the shapes he drew against your back began to feel a lot like words, a lot like 'i love you'. you nodded, humming ever so softly. "should've just asked, baby."

"i didn't wanna bother you." you mumbled, suddenly feeling like the whole thing had been just a little silly.

you felt his hand against your chin, gently tilting it upwards so you could meet his eye. "you never bother me." and you could tell by the chocolatey swirl in his eyes. he wasn't lying.

perhaps two hours passed since that very moment. steve watched the show episode until it ended, flicking on the television programme that was simply on. he could feel your soft breaths against the nape of his neck, hands outstretched towards him.

you'd fallen asleep in his embrace.

he often told you not to watch the show so late if you would fall asleep albeit you always insisted that you wouldn't. low and behold, he was right. he was always right.

and when the final programme ended, and he deemed it was late enough, he decided it was time to get you into bed.

instead of waking you, he opted to pick you up, carrying you upstairs and surely almost dropping you a total of three times because he couldn't register where he was putting his feet. yet eventually, he made it towards the bedroom and placed you against the bed. the warm blankets soon were draped over your body.

and after all the rustling, the thing that stirred you was the creek of the door.

he watched as your eyes parted, obviously still slick with sleep, and cursed himself. he thought, who, as rich as him, would own a door that creeks so loudly? and made a mental note to get new hinges.

"you okay, angel?" he mumbled into the darkness of the room, slipping off his jeans and slipping into bed with you.

"mm." you hummed as he grasped your body again, holding you close. your arms hugged themselves around his neck, shutting your eyes closed. "wanna melt into you." you mumbled, obviously too tired to register what you were saying.

"yeah?" a chuckle fell from his lips, knowing you would never have the confidence to say such a thing while wide awake. nonetheless, he took it as a compliment anyway. "we should try turkey then."

"what's in turkey?" you questioned tiredly.

"i don't know. everything? i mean, if they can give you a new set of teeth, surely they have the answer to your problems too. we can like, melt ourselves together." he was talking nonesence, though it was lulling you back to sleep anyway.

the sound of your sleepy giggle had him holding his breath, wondering if this was all real. "let's go to turkey then."

"i'll put it on our bucket list, angel." you nodded your head, without response. "you goin' to sleep on me? hm?"

"can you..." you cut yourself off with a breath. then, you reminded yourself that it was steve harrington, the boy you loved more than yourself. and you could ask him anything. "can you keep talking?"

"careful what you wish for, i might not shut up." you only giggled gently before allowing him to continue. "did i ever tell you about dustin's girlfriend?" you shook your head. "oh god, you should have seen it..."

this, you were sure, is where you could actually die happy.

main masterlist/steve's masterlist

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girlboypersonthingy · 11 months ago

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omg i love your blog sm!! it’s been a while since ive been in the fandom and i didn’t think anyone wrote for vld anymore, ahhhh but i love the way you write!! you’re so so talented!! how do you think a love triangle sitch with keith and lance would play out? i love the both but UGHHHH THE DRAMA I LOVE IT😩😩

Oh my god thank you so much! I’m so flattered asfdafh 🥰🥹 I know the fandom is dead to most but not to all. I’m still here and voltron will always live on in my heart ❤️‍🔥 BRO THIS PROMPT??? PLZ ITS SO GOOD AAHHH ENJOY!

❤️Love Triangle💙

Okay first of all, these two would try to win you over IN COMPLETELY OPPOSITE WAYS.

Lance is, of course, over the top and very romantic and kind of cliche but so considerate and thoughtful and sweet.

Keith will be more nonchalant and mysterious, trying to use his skills and talents to impress you. He’s the type to slowly win you over by being very genuine and honest.

It started when Lance threw a pick up line your way and not only was the line terrible…but you actually laughed at it. It brought some pink to your cheeks as well. They both noticed that.

Lance was very smug about the fact that he made you giggle and blush.

Keith was a little annoyed at first, thinking Lance was just being his usual obnoxious self. So Keith just kept trying to make moves on you in his own way.

One day, Lance walked into the training room to see you and Keith sitting beside each other on the floor, breathing heavily as if you’d just decided to take a break. He couldn’t really hear what Keith was saying but you looked very focused, very into the conversation and you two were sitting just a little bit too close for his liking.

Lance didn’t like the eyes you were making at the red paladin

But Keith sure did. He was so excited to be sitting so close to you.

Then it’s like the spider man meme of them pointing at each other like 😧👉🏻 👈🏻😮

“Wait! You like (Y/N)? No no no, you can’t! I like (Y/N)!”

“Well I liked them first!”

“No! No! Dibs!”

“Really? Dibs?” *eye roll*

For the next week, they’re both acting like goofballs around you.

It’s kind of hilarious and very entertaining for you because…you notice that they start adopting each other’s ways of flirting and dropping hints. They do a little swap.

It’s like they think the other person has a better chance with you so they try to switch it up and copy each other. Lance thinks Keith’s ‘mysterious bad boy’ persona is something you’re into. Keith thinks you find happiness in all the silly, goofy things Lance does. So they both try to switch it up in hopes of making you fall for them. Does that make sense?

Imagine Keith trying to use a pick up line on you and failing miserably. He’s probably sweating through his shirt and his mouth is dry bc he’s so close to you, he can smell your shampoo. He’d end up stuttering and then getting really pissed at himself for looking dumb in front of you. May go back to his room and pout if he felt things didn’t go well.

Now imagine Lance trying to be all soft spoken and mysterious, trying to act cool. Lance trying not to talk too much is the equivalent of him holding his breath. It’s only a matter of time before he breaks character and says some dumb, cheesy shit that has you rolling your eyes. He awkwardly shuffles away to his room and also pouts bc he feels like he’s just loud and annoying.

The boys got into a yelling match about it once. The pot just boiled over and all you could do was watch.

That was their very shitty, joint confession of their feelings for you- them screaming about who likes you more, who liked you first, who you’re more compatible with, ect ect blah blah blah

All right in front of you

And all the while, the whole team is so confused

Cue Allura and Hunk stepping in between them because both their faces are turning red from anger and jealousy.

Everyone just looks at Shiro like 👀

Shiro, the dad of the group: 🙄😤 “fine…”

Shiro sits them both down for a long chat and by the end of it, the boys have come to terms with the fact that they both like you and not only is it your choice who you’d want to be with, but there’s a lot of other things to be worried about rn. They shouldn’t, and they won’t, pressure you.

Buuttttt…they do keep up some of the same things they like to do with you.

Keith still trains with you often (and he really enjoys helping you with your stance/posture bc he gets to be touchy✨)

Lance still invites you into his room to play video games (and he always seems out of breath when you sit so close to him, your arm touching his)

They try their best to control their temper around you and they try not to be around when you’re with the other person. They don’t need to see you being all close and personal with someone who isn’t them. :,(

The boys just continue to be their normal selves with you. They figure you should get to know them, the real them, before you make any decisions.

Yes, they both like you.

Yes. They’re both very competitive and very jealous.

But they respect each other and they respect you.

And we are in the middle of an intergalactic war right now, this is not a real priority.

They’ll give you some time and a pace to think about it.

Now comment on this post and tell me who you’d choose 😈 I love them both so so much but Lance is my soulmate for sure

#voltron #voltron legendary defender #voltron x reader #voltron x you #vld #keith x reader #vld keith #keith vld #lance x reader #lance mcclain x reader #lance vld #voltron lance #vld lance #lance voltron #keith voltron #voltron keith #lance mcclain #keith kogane #keith kogane x reader

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acowardinmordor · 1 year ago

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You Left Me, You Miss Me

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

@mc-i-r is writing another version of this and tagged me and my brain woke up, so here ya go. This is almost all dialogue, and my new love for Mrs Buckley.

----

"Hey Steve-o! Get in here!" Robin yelled.

"Thought you were talking to your mom?" Steve shouted back.

"I am! That's why you have to come here! The cord won't reach!"

Steve hauled himself up from the corner of the kitchen where he was reorganizing things for the third time since they moved in last week. There was a pile of boxes they really needed to open in the hallway, and his mattress was still against the wall, but he kept going back to the kitchen, trying to make it work despite there being only one pull out drawer. One. They noticed before they signed the lease, but they both assumed they could make it work somehow if they just tried hard enough. But. Third time's the charm.

Flopping onto the thrifted couch next to his best friend, he leaned against her head, and greeted, "Hi Mrs Buckley, how are you?"

"Now why can't you answer the phone so politely, Robin? Who raised you to be so impolite?"

"Yeah, mom, I know you love Steve more than you love me, you tell me every time you talk to him, now can you say it again please?"

"Yes, well, like I was saying, I don't really know why they were all so upset about it, but I didn't want to overstep, so I didn't tell them anything. Not really. Only that you had moved and that you were fine. It's not like that's a secret. Then I noticed that they didn't know about that and so I didn't answer the rest of the questions, which really only made them more upset, but I think they were upset with me, not with the pair of you, so that's perfectly fine, none of them were nearly as vicious as Robin was when she was fifteen and decided she--"

"Mom!"

Steve giggled. Robin's rambling came from her mother, that was certain, and it was worse when they were on the phone. They fed on each other's talking. Like that snake thing.

"Right, yes. Well, Steve, like I told her, those boys, the ones you used to babysit for, they came around to ask if I knew where you were," Mrs Buckley finally said.

Robin grabbed his hand with the one not holding the phone, and pressed her forehead harder against his as they crowded the handset. Steve didn't think he'd reacted, but they didn't need anything as boring as a visible reaction to know each other.

"They said that they went into the video store and saw someone new at the desk, and when they heard that the two of you were no longer working there -- Apparently that manager of yours had some unpleasant words on the subject. You know I never liked him? The first time I stepped in there he asked me if I was still married? Not like that, of course, but it was still very strange. I didn't like it. And according to Robin he was always like that, wasn't he, Steven?"

"Yeah, he was pretty weird," Steve answered numbly.

"Well, that Keith fellow told them you were no longer employed there and that curly haired one demanded to know where you were employed. Since its not like he knew even if he would have told them, those boys went looking for themselves. I guess they went to your house first, Steven, and must have seen the for sale sign. I don't know what your parents are thinking, selling with the market like it is right now, but no one has ever made either of your parents listen to a single word of sense in their lives."

"Mom, the point?"

"Yes, sorry dear, like I told Robin, eventually it must have occurred to them that the two of you would be in the same place and thought to come by. Well. I say come by. First they called, and your father, you know how he is, simply said you were no longer in residence and hung up on them. He thinks he's so funny. Oh! Make sure you remember to call next Tuesday to congratulate him. It's his first day as the lead manager in the office. Oh no, wait, does it count as long distance for you? Never mind, I'll place the call so you don't have to worry about it."

"Mrs Buckley? You were saying something about Dustin?" He was proud that his voice was steady. They left Hawkins eleven days ago. They started packing two weeks before that. His parents put the house on the market around the same time. It wasn't until today that they noticed.

"Yes, that's the one. So Dustin didn't take your father's humor well, and he and his friends came by earlier this evening."

"Wait, evening?" Steve interrupted, "It was dark? They were biking around in the dark? In this weather?"

"Oh goodness no, that young man drove them. The one that was in the papers that the pair of you helped last year. He was much more polite than they were. Well, once I told them that you'd moved, they all started shouting over each other, I was sure that Ms Wickley was going to come over and scold them."

"I'm sorry, ma'am--"

"Oh you don't need to ma'am me Steven, I've told you that."

"Mom, he was just trying to be polite when he asked you to please get to the point, so can you, you know, try to get to the point some time tonight. You're paying for the call, but jeez."

"Oh yes. Well it occurred to me while they were all shouting that if they were your friends like they were saying, they would have known that you were moving. So when they managed to calm down enough I could hear a thing I said, I refused to tell them anything else. It's none of their business if you don't want it to be. And that Dustin boy said that you were his best friend, right in the same sentence he said he hadn't seen you in a month. But, I wasn't entirely sure if I was wrong about it, so I did promise I would ask you if you wanted me to pass on your information."

"Good job, mom, you finally got back to it. This is why I had you come over here, so you could hear that last part. I should have just asked you. Do you want my mom to give them our number or address or anything?" Robin had rolled her eyes over her mom's rambling, completely unaware she was just as terrible. But then she stared at him, concerned and outraged and protective and sad. God, he didn't know what he'd do without her.

"Did they ask?" Steve said.

"Ask? I don't think a single one of them knows how to ask anything. They certainly shouted a lot of demands. If you don't want me to tell them, I have no complaints about being the villain in this story. After everything you've done for my girl, being there for her before she even told me, and now making sure she's safe from any kind of trouble up there, you're such a perfect - what was the - beard? I think that's what I saw in that article in that magazine. Oh, no, the Zine, I ordered. But even without all that, I'll happily shut the door in their faces every day for a year if that's what you want done."

Steve's next breath stuttered, and that was all Robin needed to see.

"Hang on mom, I'm going to put the phone down, don't hang up, we'll be back." She sat the handset on the couch, then dragged a throw blanket over it to muffle their voices completely.

"You okay there or do I need to make a snap decision about which is going to be our household's vomit bowl?" He pushed her shoulder half-heartedly. "Okay, yeah, we both know it's gonna be the one with the cow on it. But you okay there, Stevie?"

"I'm fine."

"No you aren't."

"I'm fine."

She gasped, "You would lie to your soulmate? To her face?"

"I'm not! I'm fine! I just... I don't know, Robs."

Robin watched for a second as all of the muck of emotions bubbled inside him. Then she, as she always did, understood him.

"You want to say no. You want to tell her not to let them know where we are, but you're also freaking out because the brats come find you whenever It's back."

And because for a second, he desperately hoped that they missed him, or wanted to call so they could apologize for the last months. She didn't need to say that part. He half shrugged, sort of nodded, and bobbed his chin towards the throw blanket.

"You sure, Dingus?"

"Yeah."

"Is it gonna be Hopper or Joyce?" she faux wondered as she grabbed the phone from its prison. "Mom? Hi, back. Yeah, thank you. I'm gonna hand the phone to Steve now."

She didn't move away, but she didn't share the earpiece.

"Hi Mrs Buckley. I guess I -- could I ask a couple questions first?"

"Of course dear. What would you like to know?"

"Did any of them say anything weird or really specific?"

"Like what?"

"Like, about the mall, or last spring, or, bats, or uh, did they say anything about their dungeons and dragons game?"

"No. Why would they?"

Steve forced his shoulders to relax. El said it was done, but four years of it coming back meant he'd never fully trust that as true.

"No reason I guess."

"Well. That Munson boy did ask me about a radio right at the end. After the others stomped back to the driveway. He came back and he seemed - well he asked about a radio. And I said you certainly had a radio in your car, but I think he may have been talking about something else. Is that what you meant?"

"Okay, uh. Yeah. Thank you. I guess."

"So what would you like me to tell them next time I see one of them? If you'd like to take your time about it, you can. They were quite worked up about it, but it's a little ridiculous to act like they were owed something if they didn't even notice you two moving. You knocked over a stop sign with that rental truck."

Steve laughed. Couldn't help it. "I really can't wait, ma'am. They'll be back tomorrow morning to bother you." He gave Robin a look she immediately returned. Even without hearing the other half, she understood how true that was.

"Of course they won't, they have school," Mrs Buckley argued.

"Yeah, just means they'll be at your door even earlier."

"Well that's rude."

"Yeah, that's them. So, um. You can be rude back if you want. Don't, uh, you don't need to answer their questions. If you don't mind that they're not going to take it well."

Mrs Buckley laughed, loud and cackling for a moment, making the phone go staticky. "Oh dear, it would be my absolute pleasure to be rude right back to them. I'm much better at it. Anything else?"

"Yeah, you know Jim Hopper?" The resounding silence promised she was giving him the same judgemental look Robin was. "Sorry, that was dumb. But can you give him our number? Not to share with them, just so he has it. And, funny story about radios, but, the one that -- that that guy asked about is in your hall closet. Top shelf, next to the popcorn tin. Give Hopper that too?"

"Certainly, anything I should tell him, or should I ask to return the phone to my ridiculous child that you're generous enough to live with so I can say good night?"

For some reason, it made him think about the returns box at the store. A handle pulled open, the movie dropped inside, and nothing else needed. No one had to explain why they were giving back their copy of Breakfast Club. They had it for a while, hopefully they enjoyed it, and then when it was done, when they didn't need it anymore, or when it was overdue, when they kept it longer than they should have, costing them more money to keep around than it was worth, when they decided they were done with it, they didn't write a letter and explain why they--

"No. But, just. Tell him its for emergencies or something. Thank you, bye, or, goodnight ma'am, Mrs Buckley, uh, here's Robs. Bye."

He climbed off the couch as he shoved the phone at her, and headed for the window in his yet to be unpacked room. Rob would kill him in his sleep if he had a cigarette, but if he had any, he'd have taken the risk.

The glass was so cold it was painful against his forehead when he leaned into it, and he watched the little flurries of snow on the street kicked up by the wind. They didn't even notice for a few weeks. They'd quit Family Video a week before they left, and he knew the kids watched at least a few every weekend. They must have gone in, multiple times, and just, not noticed. Or not cared.

He wasn't sure which of those was worse.

He wasn't sure why it hurt when he made his peace with it weeks and weeks ago. It hadn't ached so vividly since the fall. Worst of all was the shock of concern for them, thinking they were out on their bikes in the dark and the snow. Then the relief that Eddie drove them. The feeling was huge enough to eclipse anything else until he knew they were safe.

Hadn't seen them in a month, barely seen them before that, and his first instinct was still to drop everything and grabs his keys. He was two hours away, and his brain was itchy to go drive by and check on them. They didn't need him to do that. They didn't want him to.

And based on how his stomach lurched when he heard that they didn't know he'd left, he didn't think it would do him any favors to go back. Hop and Joyce knew how to handle them if they started to do anything too risky, and the kids were practically glued to Eddie's side.

They weren't his to look after.

"Stop staring out the window like your lover is lost on the moors," Robin complained, wrapping him in a hug from behind.

"I have no idea what that means, Robs."

"Good, I'll explain it to you. Come on, lets go, we've got a kitchen to reorganize. I already started stuff for popcorn and hot chocolate. Lets gooooo, you're too heavy for me to carry, hup two."

Steve snorted and let her drag him away.

"I thought we were going to get my room set up, so I wouldn't have to share with you again?"

She gave him that look. That one that was fond and frustrated and sassy as shit. The one that said she wasn't going to let him get away with being dumb, but wasn't going to call him on it.

"It's a woman's prerogative to change her mind. You can share with me for a while longer. Now do the hot chocolate, and don't skimp on the whipped cream. We bought that can on sale and its going to go bad any second. Just use all of it. Directly into our mouths if we cant get it balance on the mug. Don't want to waste it, and we deserve it. I'm on popcorn duty, and then we're going to defeat this puzzle, Harrington. We outsmarted the Russians, we can outsmart the dishes!"

Shit. He sniffled as he followed her orders.

He was so damn grateful he still had her.

-----

Next>>

Still don't do tag lists. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#You Left Me - You Miss Me #Steve Harrington #Platonic Stobin forever #Steddie eventually #still not making things better #cause that is really not my specialty #and apparently Rob came out before they left

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steddieas-shegoes · 8 months ago

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🧁Congrats on 3k followers!🧁 You were the first steddie person I followed and I'm still so glad I did! 💕

For the sentence prompt, I'm picking a line from my favorite love song - Fair by The Amazing Devil:

"Darling, I was born to press my head between your shoulder blades at night when light is fading"

Me? The first?! That’s a huge honor and I am definitely not crying about it (lying). I hope you enjoy!

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

Steve’s migraines were bad when it rained, even worse when he’d been outside all day. Nothing helped except sleeping it off.

And pressure in just the right spot on his forehead.

It was hard to get it right on his own, and Robin was always just a bit too harsh with her fingertips against his skin, pressing too much at once in too many places. Eddie managed to touch just right sometimes, but it was hit or miss.

It was so fucking frustrating.

Eddie was frustrated too, especially when the pain got to a point that Steve didn’t even want him near him. Every smell, sound, and accidental touch made him nauseous.

They had rain most of the day, and Steve’s work day had started with Keith berating him for not rewinding one tape before putting it back on the shelf. It ended with a customer trying to steal candy from the shelves and yelling at Steve when he got caught.

By the time he got home, he could barely feel his fingers from how hard he’d been clenching the steering wheel as he drove, doing his best to focus on the road ahead. He just had to get home, then he could wash his face and get in bed.

Eddie was playing music while he made dinner, and it was nearly impossible for Steve to do anything but rush past the kitchen to their bedroom. Eddie would figure it out quickly.

Within minutes, Steve was standing at the bathroom sink in only his underwear, hot water running over the washcloth he planned on holding on his face until he could breathe again.

“Stevie, you okay?” Eddie whispered when he walked into the room.

“Migraine.”

“I’ll get you some water and the ice pack.”

Steve lost track of time as he finished up in the bathroom and settled in bed. His head wasn’t pounding so much as exploding into new galaxies every time he blinked. Somehow, closing his eyes made it worse.

He managed to make himself as comfortable as possible, barely even moving when Eddie placed the ice pack on his forehead and eyes.

“10?” Eddie asked as softly as possible, keeping his distance, but staying close enough for Steve to touch him.

“Mhm.”

“You need me to sleep on the couch?”

“No.”

The bed shifted slightly as Eddie moved further under the covers on his side. “Okay. I’m right here, sweetheart.”

The spot on his forehead was pulsing and the ice pack wasn’t doing shit.

“Turn on your side,” Steve asked, voice shaking as he tried to bite back a whimper of pain.

He felt Eddie move, and when he reached a hand out to see if he’d understood what he asked, he couldn’t help his lip turning up at the corner in an attempt at a smile.

Sometimes he was convinced the bat bites had connected them in more ways than the soft camaraderie of recovery. Sometimes it felt like they were reading the other so well, they shared a brain.

Steve slowly moved forward, wincing when his body made contact with Eddie’s. Steve pulled the ice pack away.

“Sweetheart?”

“Just a sec,” he replied.

Eddie was as still as a statue, something so rare, he probably reserved it for these moments.

Another reason Steve was certain Eddie was better than he deserved.

Steve leaned his head forward, letting out a small groan when his forehead made contact with Eddie’s back, right between his shoulder blades.

He pressed his head forward, not able to relax until he found-

There.

He nearly moaned with relief.

“Found it, angel?” Eddie whispered, not wanting to ruin the moment of painless ecstasy Steve was experiencing.

“Mm.”

“Stay as long as you need,” Eddie added before focusing on slow breathing so he wouldn’t disrupt Steve’s resting place.

Steve sighed and let himself enjoy this moment for as long as possible. He closed his eyes.

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

When Steve woke up, the light was almost gone between the curtains and Eddie’s breathing was slowed like he was asleep.

His head still ached, but the pounding had gone, and when he looked down at Eddie’s face, everything was clear.

He’d found a place to heal in Eddie. First, his arms, then his heart, and now, the place between his shoulders.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #asks #follower celebration

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steviewashere · 10 months ago

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Rhetorics and Bad Days

Rating: General CW: None apply! Tags: Post-Canon, Post-Season 4, Hurt/Comfort, Steve Harrington Has a Bad Time, Steve Harrington is an Ugly Crier, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Calls Steve Harrington Pet Names, Forehead Kisses, Slight Love Confessions, Getting Together (Sorta Kinda/More Implied Afterwards)

Tripped and fell last night and wrote 3.2k words. Inspired by @scoops-aboy86 idea and my stupid little headcanon from this post!

💕—————💕

It seems like everyday was a bad day when you were somebody like Steve Harrington. Considering the good majority of his life the last four years, give or take, has been a cartwheel of nightmares and torture and blood and injuries—And, well. Obviously he has bad days.

Though, typically, it can be resolved and done over with a hot shower, maybe some stupid movie that he honk-laughs at, a warm blanket and a freshly dried pillowcase. Little things. Little good things that are able to calm him some, at least. Give him something else to think of, at most. He doesn’t have to do anything like cry or breakdown or yell until his voice is hoarse, that’s what he tells himself. Because, what’s been ingrained in his head, men don’t cry. Men don’t get hysterical. Men don’t break that emotional mold.

Though those words are definitely booming and deep and flat like his dad’s. That’s not his brain. Those aren’t his words. But it sure as hell is what he’s been exposed to for far too long.

And maybe that’s why, standing in the barren living room of his brand new (albeit worn down, caulked heavily, all too warm) apartment, he finds the rhetoric silenced. In a fresh space. With crooked blinds and awfully filled tack holes. A kitchen fit for a (former) king. Little breakfast nook that only allows for two dining chairs under the south facing windows. Barely any sunlight able to stream through. His bedroom cramped with just a queen sized mattress placed haphazardly on the floor, definitely crushing some well-loved Playboy magazines, crooked to the wall at his head because the movers carrying it were too tired from the recently odd mid-fall heat, and a decently sized freshly made spiderweb in the corner—he shivers at the thought of something alive and crawling watching him sleep at night. And the glorious bathroom—preemptively marked with darkened piss stains on the floor and a smell birthed from over-indulgence on alcohol.

It’s his, though. Well, his and Eddie’s.

Eddie has his own bedroom, similar size to Steve’s (think of a shoebox used to bury that poor hamster from your youth, dead from eating too many baseball cards), ceiling light stained with god worshipping moths, and a window that half-opens if he jiggles it the right way. They share that grimy bathroom. And he brought the living room couch, something that had been sitting on his and Wayne’s back porch for some time, definitely a little mud stained and mildew smelling from rain, but it’s not the worst. Not the best. Not even good. But it’s their space, freed from the confines of Hawkins, new and shiny for all of Indianapolis to see.

The rhetoric is gone in Steve’s brain. Like skin shed from his sunburned body. Peeling and crackling to every surface he finds himself on or leaning against or standing with. It evades him. Leaves him with something viciously young and terribly hungry.

Steve Harrington is prone to bad days. Bad weeks. Bad things.

The unfortunate luck begins anew an exact week from when they move in.

October 20th, 1986 is his first day back at Family Video. He’d been transferred, referred much to Keith’s dismay, but probably his pleasure, too. (Considering how immediate his response had been to Steve’s question.) But it was his first day back. Didn’t need to be trained. Just hooked like a fish to deceased worm bait, thrown out to the river that is their block’s neighbors and strangers and mere acquaintances that feel no better or worse about having new people take residency on their street, but he’s also not reeled back in at the end of his shift. If anything, he’s tangled in his own wire, flopping, gasping for water, drying to the gravel by the shallow give of the river’s flow. He is stranded behind the register. Returning customers telling him he should know what they like, or what discount they need, or how many movies they’ve checked out previously. That he should know that a particular customer is friends with the owner of the Family Video he so sorely resides in. But he doesn’t, of course he doesn’t. So he makes do. He powers through it. Feigns mundane annoyance like gum flavorless between his teeth, though he’s biting his tongue to not sob.

That’s not where the bad ends. No. Of course not.

He’s within walking distance to their apartment. Which should be fine. In fact, it’s incredibly handy because even if he were running late to work, he could blame it on something stupid. (‘My key broke off in the lock, had to bother the landlord.’ ‘Yeah, had a leak in the bathroom this morning, have to report it just in case it tries to flood the downstairs neighbors.’ ‘It’s odd, seems like the lock loves to devour my keys.’ Nervous laughter.) But just because he’s within walking distance does not mean that life is plainly simple. No, what happens is he gets soaked with dirty road rain water. Was it mentioned that it’s been raining all day? No? Well, it has been. And it’s a downpour. Forecast said it would happen tonight, not midday, not while he’s trying to power walk home so he can make the peanut butter and jelly sandwich of his dreams. But it does. Because of course. And some asshole, screaming out their window to tell him that he should’ve worn a raincoat, speeds by. Coating him from collarbone to toe in the mucky rainwater of a city that’s too busy for a place like bumfuck Indiana. At least in Hawkins everybody knows your name; at least they have the common decency to let you stroll on by before they make a major move like that. But in a city bustling with busy, selfish, awful people—because aren’t all city inhabitants like this, should he have realized something like this was bound to happen? Well, he did. Just didn’t think it would take less than a month for it to occur.

Sopping wet. Exhausted and burnt out. Hungry like a rabid stray dog. He walks briskly. Skipping over the cracks and lines in the sidewalk, no matter how much disdain he tastes for his mother. Missing freshly spat out gum by mere centimeters. Shoulder checking a few too slow pedestrians, their sneering faces burning into his back. And the next awful thing comes in like a planned prank on some mocking little sitcom show. Dog shit. Pure dog shit, brown and putrid and soft on the sole of his right Adidas Superstar. His brand new shoes. The shoes he got himself less than a month ago. Shoes that he had been eyeing for years, but couldn’t muster the courage or the reason to buy them. And now there’s dog shit on the bottom of his shoe. He smears it on the concrete, squishing it further into the ridges of his sole, scraping it against the harsh ground. Tries his best. Checks the bottom of the shoe precariously. And without missing a beat…topples down onto his ass, thankfully away from the smeared shit, but down onto the ground nonetheless. He prickles, stands up on his shaky legs, dusts off his ass, and storms the rest of the way home.

Maybe he shouldn’t slam the door. But it’s barely anything in comparison to the rest of his day. He shouldn’t do it. He knows that it could get them a noise complaint. Though, the way it vibrates against his back, settling deep into the wood, stepping out of his sneakers to wash in the tub in a few—it’s all too good.

The anger begins to dissipate from him in just that small action.

Then, again like a well-mannered sitcom scene, in barrels Eddie from his bedroom. Arms crossed over his chest, hip popped to the side, harsh scowl to his face. “Man, are you fucking serious?” He spits.

“What?” Steve asks, panting, breathless, absolutely done with today. With tomorrow. With the rest of this week.

“I told you this morning that I was going to be studying in my room! All day! Told you that I wanted it to be quiet, and the first thing you do when you get home is slam the door shut?!” He growls. Snarling, he continues, “And what about the noise complaints?! We can’t afford any of those, we need this place! Could you not—“

Steve pushes past him, shoes in hand, work bag slung down like a bomb to the floor. Leaving its contents scattered. A copy of Airplane! on VHS, some stickers reading ‘Be kind, rewind’, measly three dollars, and his Family Video vest. All of it strewn about their place. Pooling murky water on the surface, just as Steve’s clothes were dripping everywhere else. He closes himself in the bathroom, but doesn’t lock the door. In fact, that stupid fucking lock doesn’t even work. Nothing works. He stays in there anyway. Really, they should clean in here. Clorox the hell out of every surface. Maybe see if the piss stains will come up with a harshly gripped mop. But instead of those important things, he tosses his sneakers into the bathtub, and sits with his head in his hands on the closed toilet lid. Mushy socks to the tiled floor. Pants uncomfortably drying and chafing on his legs. Underwear like a second skin to his balls. His polo tight across his back and terribly moist.

Shoves his palms harsh into his eyes and whistles through his nose. “Fuck,” he mutters, lip wobbling with the word.

A tentative knock to the door startles him. “Steve?” Eddie’s voice rings out. It’s murmured, careful, testing the syllables on his tongue. “Hey, can I come in? I’m—“ He sighs, the anger he had before blowing away from him. “I’m sorry,” he sincerely apologizes. “I’m sorry that my first instinct was to get mad. I—“

“Just come in,” he croaks. It’s not very loud, but it must be enough because Eddie pushes the door open mere seconds later.

He sighs, mouth downturning when he sees Steve on the toilet. Meekly holds up Steve’s also brand new messenger bag. Stained like the tiled flooring under their socked feet. It’s sodden and depressing. “Hey,” he mutters.

Steve just hums in return. Looking up to Eddie from the toilet, he must be a sorry sight. All soaking wet, spine hunched and scrunched in a horrifically twisted amalgamation, hair limp in his eyes. Something has to read on him for Eddie to be gazing at him the way he is. All big eyes and sorry mouth and his shoulders slouched like he’s admitting defeat. Part of Steve doesn’t want him to, wants him to keep getting riled, yelling about their lease and the slammed doors and the forgetfulness that seems to flow through Steve just as easily as blood. Wants to be called names. Wants to have a non-delicate conversation about how much of a screw-up he is, how he should’ve listened to his father and never moved away, why he’s a disaster of a person. Tell Steve all the ways in which he’s deserving of the bad days. Deserving of their frequency. Deserving of misery.

“Are you—No, you probably aren’t, but I’m asking anyway. Are you okay, Steve?”

That—Well, that breaks something in him. The final block on his wobbling tower of everything and too much. Under his skin, like weak twigs, his ribs are snapping. Crumbling beneath him to make room for the way his lungs expand with the need to gasp. The need to hiccup his way through a terrible explanation.

His mouth twitches, lips pursing. Looks away. “I—“ Steve rasps. “No,” he sobs.

Warmth crowds him, all too sudden and all too much. Hands gravitating to his magnetic pull. Squeezing his shoulder and pushing back his stringy hair. Though, immediately and dizzyingly, he is reminded of that stupid rhetoric. He shouldn’t follow it. Shouldn’t even allow it to have the vice grip it does on his brain.

But he shakes Eddie off, standing uneasily from the toilet, walking around him. He paces into the kitchen, hungry and shaking and needed to do something. Get his energy out one way or another. Fight off the tears, no matter how relieving they would be. Clatters through the cupboards. Finds the cheap, shitty, generic white bread. And an already half-eaten jar of peanut butter, odd peaks and valleys in it as if somebody’s been chowing down on it with a spoon. That doesn’t matter, though. At least there’s any peanut butter at all.

Eddie’s not too far behind him. Standing in the kitchen’s entryway, hands floating in front of him, reaching out for Steve. “Hey, Stevie, I can make you a sandwich. Y’know, if you want to change out of your clothes. Must be uncomfortable,” he’s placating.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Steve lies to himself. Because he needs this to be true. Just this one good thing. One thing he can do for himself. Make something he wants to eat. Something he’s been thinking about all day. Something that plasters an easy enough smile to his already half-puffy face, tears encroaching and sobs clawing their way up to his throat. But when he grabs for the jelly, “Are you fucking kidding me?” He slams the door of the fridge closed. No jar in sight. Not a single kind. No marmalade or strawberry jam or even the nasty grape jelly he bought for when Robin visits. There’s nothing. “Are you—“ He groans, huffs, and hiccups.

Attempting to cover himself, he shoves his hand to his forehead, shielding his eyes.

The one thing he can’t let Eddie see, because crying is going to happen whether Steve likes it or not, is that he’s an ugly crier. The ugliest, and he knows that. All bubbled snot and dripping its residue over his top lip. Lips bitten red raw from muffling the sobs. Spit burbled in the corners of his mouth. Choking on wet gasps, hiccuping with his whole body, trying to drink the air around him. Skin going splotchy red and hideously swollen, the swelling still apparent even two hours later.

With the first sob, he knows it won’t be possible to hide this breakdown. Eddie’s already inching closer, hands still out in front of him. Steve is a wounded animal, it seems like. He cries loud and shameful, mouth dropped open, his saliva bubbling between his teeth. Already choking on his first gasp.

“It’ll be alright, Stevie,” Eddie tries to soothe, “We can get more jelly, it’s alright.”

“No,” Steve cries, “No! It’s not—“ A series of short, hiccuping, wet gasps. Followed then by a snotty snort, bubbled and causing his breath to whistle. “Such a bad day,” he attempts to explain, voice keening, high pitched in the back of his throat. “Everybody was so mean—Clothes are—All wet and gross—“ Heavy swallow like trying to consume large shards of glass. He flaps his hands at his sides, scrunching them, trying to squeeze himself back to his ordinary box. But instead, more snorting sobs leave him.

Eddie places a warm hand on the back of Steve’s neck. Thumb digging into a knot that’s forming. He puts his other palm on his bare arm, coaxing him over to one of the dining chairs. Settles him down and crouches in front of his sob-riddled, hiccuping, contorting body. Holding Steve’s face with one hand, he reaches for the crumpled bandana in his back pocket, raising it between them. “Look at me, Stevie baby,” he murmurs, “Let me help you.” Steve drags his eyes away from where they’d been zeroed in on the floor. Locking with Eddie’s own sad and soft gaze. “There you are,” Eddie whispers. He gently strokes Steve’s cheek with the edge of his bandana. Gliding it over his skin, patting at the drying tear tracks. His other hand, thumb wedged near the corner of Steve’s mouth, wipes away at the spittle. “I’m sorry you had a bad day,” he mutters, “But we’ll get it back on track, alright? You’ll be okay, sweetheart. I promise you’ll be okay.”

Steve’s lips wobble. “I thought you were mad,” he nasally whispers. “Why are you being nice to me?”

Stopping his slow and careful work, Eddie stares in heartbreaking dismay. “You deserve nice things, Steve. It doesn’t matter that I was mad. I’m not mad anymore.” And then he runs his bandana over the snot trails under Steve’s nose. Looking on with an odd mix of sadness and reverence. Thumb not even wiping anything away anymore, simply caressing over Steve’s heated, swollen skin.

He swallows glass again. Blinks sluggishly. Calmed down, oddly. This is probably the quickest cry he’s ever had. He chuckles, “God, I’m such an ugly crier, man.” Sighs. “Can’t believe you’re willingly wiping at my snot right now. ’T’s nice.”

“Stop being so hard on yourself, sweetheart. I don’t even think you’re ugly.”

Steve snorts. “Yeah, right.”

“What—I’m being honest!” Eddie quietly exclaims. He shifts the hand on Steve’s jaw, palm cupping his cheek, fingers splayed over his ear, holding him in a sweet yet fragile way. “Steve, you’re, like, gorgeous. I hate seeing you so upset, but you’re like an angel or something when you cry.” He draws his bandana away, but brings it back to cover the end of Steve’s nose. “Blow into this,” he instructs. And so Steve does, blowing out whatever didn’t already leave him in his crying episode. Eddie pulls it back again, not even grimacing at what is surely a squelching snot-covered mess in his hand. He massages his fingers into the hair around Steve’s ear. Gazing. “You’re gorgeous,” he whispers, reiterating. “And you deserve nice things, especially after what a clusterfuck of a day you must’ve had. And you deserve to breakdown every once in a while. Don’t have to hide just because you think you shouldn’t cry or because you’re ‘ugly’ or whatever.”

“Thanks, Eds,” Steve squeaks. Face flushing with heat, gratefully not from tears. He flashes a small smile, modest but there, for the first time today. “You really mean all that? Even when you called me sweetheart?”

Eddie is bashful, smile stretching, going red in the face, tilting his head as if assessing. But the lovesick sheen to his eyes says he’s already made up his mind. “Yeah,” he murmurs, careful and devoted, “yeah, baby. I do mean all that I said.”

“Can I have one more good thing?” Steve tentatively asks.

“What’s that?”

He touches between his eyebrows. “Forehead kiss?” (And sure, maybe he does pout a little, but can you blame him?)

Eddie, without missing a beat, leans forward, fiercely cupping Steve’s cheek, pressing a slightly damp kiss to Steve’s skin. Then under his eyes. The tip of his nose. Corner of his mouth. Pulls back, whispering, “You can have all the kisses you want, sweetheart.” Still caressing Steve, he offers, “How ‘bout I go get you some new jelly while you take a warm bath? And when you’re out, clean clothes and not shivering, we can curl up on the couch and watch that movie you got?”

“Okay,” Steve mutters.

“Okay,” Eddie murmurs back. He presses one more kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “Let’s make this a good day, baby.”

💕—————💕

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington is an ugly crier #hurt/comfort

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justanothervoreblog · 10 months ago

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Restrained

Keith always figured that because of his size and his muscles that he could handle just about anything. All his life his friends had called him a physical specimen. Someone who could never be toppled or dominated. Unfortunately that was no longer the case.

The last thing that Keith remembered was this cutie asking him to dance. After a while he remembers getting tired and then passing out. When he woke up he was restrained and had some sort of Speedo on.

No one would answer any of his questions. They would just say that he had been selected for something. After that he felt a bunch of different hands begin to feel up his muscles. They all called him good meat and how he would be perfect. Whatever that meant.

Soon after he was being oiled up with olive oil. His muscles began to glisten and shine as he was prepared. When they began to take the restraints off him, he thought this was his big escape. However all he was able to do was push a couple people down. Soon he was restrained in a much different way. He had an apple stuffed in his mouth and his entire body had been wrapped up in vegetable twine. Then he's blindfolded as someone then yells that table 43's meal was done.

Keith could only judge but it seemed he was on some giant serving platter. He could hear the wheels bring him to another room. There was soft music playing like at one of those fancy restaurants. The cart he is on stops and places him onto a table. He had no idea what was going to happen. Why on Earth was he being trussed up like food? This was utterly ridiculous and he was going to sue everyone in this place when it's over.

Whoever had ordered him muttered something about him being delicious. The Apple is gently plucked from his mouth. Before he can yell out any obscenities it feels like his head is being pushed into a moist cave. Then the sensation of his face being licked overwhelms his senses. It doesn't dawn on him that he was slowly being eaten alive.

His neck and shoulders are pushed deeper into the throat of his predator. Those rounded muscles meaning nothing to the hungry individual. Keith tries to struggle, but his muscles are still restrained by the vegetable twine. With another gulp his chest and abdomen come in next. It was about this time where he realized that he was going. He was being eaten! Devoured by some perv! How the hell was any of this even possible?

Not that it mattered, the hungry patron gets to that flaccid cock and ass. He begins to swipe those muscular globes like a credit card. It was utterly delectable to him, much to the dismay of keith. He was being humiliated and devoured. More than likely in a public setting to boot! Worst part is is that he was pretty sure that no one was going to be able to help him.

His muscular thighs and powerful calves are slowly swallowed up like noodles. The entire trip down the esophagus was wet, hot, and loud. It got even louder when he passed by the heartbeat. Before long his large and flat feet are scooped up by the tongue. They drop inside and join Keith rounding out this man's belly.

This was it. A lifetime of working out, dieting, and proper sleep schedule just to end up as someone's dinner. He was curled up into the fetal position, still bound by the vegetable twine even now. His entire body bulging out on somebody's abdomen. All the while his devourer rubbed over the hefty meal. Keith couldn't hear anything through the gurgling and churning of his own body. Keith shut his eyes and realized that this was his fate...

Devin walked out of his favorite establishment with a heavy gut on him. One might describe him as a twunk. Not so lean and not so built either, a perfect in between. However the man he ate certainly put a number on his physique. With a satisfied smile, he cradles his belly with his hands. This beefcake was all his to digest for the next couple of days. As if to pay compliments to the chef, he lets out a ferocious burp before heading into the night. With his enormous belly in tow.

#male pred #male prey #male vore #m/m vore #multiple prey #vore story #oral vore

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alt-vera · 11 months ago

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— whiskey girl ⁀➷

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joel miller gives his whiskey girl a gift.

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✿ | joel miller | 1.06k | ❛ whiskey girl - toby keith ❜ | part one

warnings: pre outbreak!joel miller. drinking. allude to sex. age gap.

note: who knows when im gonna post again lol stay tuned for part two tho

❝ just ain’t enough good burn in tequila, she needs somethin’ with a little more edge and a little more pain ❞

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JOEL MILLER LIKED HIS GIRLS LIKE HE LIKED HIS DRINKS.

　Strong, neat, and not cheap enough to make him gag.

　That’s why he liked you: a farmer’s granddaughter majoring in agriculture who worked hard for what she had and knew the value of respecting those around her without being walked over. A little ragged on the edges, but Joel liked ‘em rough.

　Same could be said for you. You liked Joel for the same reasons he fawned over you. He was charming, and assiduous, with enough edge worn into his features to draw you in at the drop of a dime.

　So, when you invited Joel to a local dive bar on an eventless friday night, he sure as hell wasn’t going to say no. It was rare for you both to be free; usually he was working late, or you had classes, or tests, or were helping on the farm.

　He saw your worn mustang parked by the entrance, and spotted you instantaneously as he walked inside. A welcoming aura surrounded you as you chatted with some old men, presumably other farmers who knew you from your last name and came in for a drink after a sweltering day of plowing fields. Your smile gleamed under the warm lights of the bar, and Joel couldn’t help it as his lips curled into a smile just from looking at you.

　“Haven’t been making you wait long, have i?” He drawled as he sauntered up to you, hand making it’s way into the back pocket of your jeans, pulling you closer to him.

　You directed your smile his way before bidding your goodbyes to the old folks. “‘Course not, Miller. You know that if you did, i would’ve given you hell as soon as you set foot in the door.”

　Joel chuckled, running his free hand through his messy hair. “Fair enough, darlin’. You need a drink?”

　“Please,” You replied, and Joel put two fingers in his mouth, throwing a loud whistle at the bartender.

　“Can i get a beer and a, uh,” He glanced over to you for a moment, deep eyes meeting your own, before a smirked danced across his features, “…a whiskey, neat, for my girl, please.”

　You couldn’t help as your cheeks warmed at his words. My girl. You rolled your eyes, turning your face away from him so that he couldn’t see the ruddy heat spreading across your face.

　The two of you didn’t have a label. You drank together, you kissed, you fucked. You’d make dinner for him and his daughter, and he’d take you for drives at sunset down empty country roads, radio blasting through the open heat waves as you yelled gleefully out the windows.

　Still, anyone who looked at you and Joel knew there was something there, even when his hand wasn’t in your back pocket or your fingers were grasping his forearm. You were his girl. And he was your guy. No denomination necessary.

　One whiskey turned to three before you were singing along to the jukebox in the corner of the bar, holding up invisible microphones to random folks who’d join you in your performance. Joel watched, amused, as you twirled around to the twang of the guitar blaring through the speakers. His smile grew as you crept closer to him, pretending to reel him in to dance with you like a fish caught on a worm.

　Little did you know that you already had him from the moment he met you. Hook, line, and sinker.

　His hand found yours as he gave in, not much of a dancer, but eager to spin you around. You let him lead you, swaying to the pace of the music, pulling you closer to him as the tempo continued on.

　He pulled you flush against him. Forgetting the music, forgetting the dancing, forgetting the watching eyes. He kissed you, a passionate catch of the lips that left you craving more, the dull glow of amber above you acting like a spotlight that shone on you and Joel solely.

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　Joel couldn’t help himself as reached a hand up and drew a sloppy happy face on the fogged up windows of your mustang. Your head laid on his bare chest as you both fought to catch your breath, crickets chirping loudly in the farm field, audible even through the barrier of your car.

　You felt him bury his nose in your hair, breathing in the smell of you. Vanilla, and sweet musk, and whiskey. He felt you smile against his pec, eyes stealing a glance up to meet his.

　“I have a present for you,” He spoke suddenly, voice worn and husky.

　“Better than the way you just fucked me?” You joked with a light chuckle, feeling his arm move as he went to fish something out of his jeans that had fell on the floor of your backseat.

　He held the gift in his large hand before opening his palm to you to reveal a small wooden box. His fingers inched it open, and inside was a thin-banded ring with a dainty diamond in the middle.

　You turned dreadfully quiet as you stared at the band, and an anxious prickle crept over Joel’s skin.

　You raised yourself off his chest, turning to look at him. “Joel, if you’re proposing to me before even asking me to be your girlfriend, then i’m going to chuck this out into the field.”

　“What?” He laughed, inching so that he was sitting upright. “No, no, it’s a promise ring,” He said, plucking the jewellery out of the box and grabbing your hand, pushing it delicately onto your ring finger.

　“Ever since Sarah’s mom up and left, datin’ has been hard. I didn’t even wanna look at another woman—“ Joel’s deep eyes met yours, and you felt your heart swell, “—Until i met you.”

　“I don’t want t’distract you from your studies,” He continued, “But you’re my girl, and i want everyone to know it.”

　There it was again. My girl. Your pulse raced as you kissed him eagerly, full of adoration. Joel could still taste the smooth relish of whiskey on your breath.

　You smiled at him euphorically as you pulled away, words leaving your lips before you could even register the weight of them. “I love you, Joel.”

　Joel’s thumb stroked your cheek affectionately, returning your grin. “I love you too, my little whiskey girl.”

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us hbo #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #smut #joel miller self insert #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

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satansapostle6 · 3 months ago

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fire and ice | james cook

Cook’s interest is piqued when an old childhood friend moves in across the street.

Warning: Mature themes/language. Drug use. Sexual content.

part nine.

part ten. underdogs and shared evils.

The bad mushroom trip was never mentioned again. Tiff and Cook were both back to their usual selves, despite both of them having remembered what had happened the day they took mushrooms together. Both of them were happy to forget it. They went about their lives, as if nothing had happened at all. None of their friends noticed a change of course, given that no one knew about what had transpired between them, but one perceptive individual did. Jonah “JJ” Jones of course noticed the strange changes in Tiff and Cook’s behavior.

The changes weren’t major, but to JJ, who was constantly watching, they were. The changes were small, but still undeniable. Something had happened between Tiff and Cook, JJ knew, but he truly had no idea whether it was good or bad, up until a certain point. JJ watched Cook and Tiffany one day as their group congregated at the local pub as usual. Some things were the same; Cook and Tiff were inseparable. Cook and Tiff also bickered constantly. Cook was constantly teasing Tiffany.

But, some things were different; Cook would get quiet(highly unusual). Tiff would glance over at Cook(Tiff never seemed to put that much thought into anything). Cook would also glance over at Tiff(Cook was usually afraid to seem like he put thought into things). Cook started to put his arm around Tiff, and touch the small of her back while he walked behind her(Cook never touched Tiff that chivalrously). And, also, there was the key difference of Tiff allowing him to do so(this was highly unusual). JJ had no idea what to make of this. At first, he suspected, and feared, that Tiff and Cook might be secretly dating unbeknownst to their group of friends.

But JJ had eventually deduced that this wasn’t true, given that Tiff would, for some reason or other, seem very relieved whenever Cook would flirt with another girl at the pub, or around school. Truthfully, JJ had a million questions, but he wasn’t sure how to bring them to Tiffany’s attention. So, at some point, he decided to let alcohol do its job and approach Tiff as they left the pub, once she was separated from Cook and Effy.

“Tiff?”

JJ nervously walked beside her as she lit up a cigarette outside.

“Yeah, JJ?” she asked caringly.

JJ slowly formulated his question with consideration, before Cook’s untimely interruption of their private side conversation.

“Tiffy! JJ!” Cook barked drunkenly, wrapping an arm around either of them. “How’s it going, eh, mates?”

JJ winced awkwardly, secretly wishing he would leave. But fortunately for him, Tiff responded to Cook on behalf of them both.

“I’m far too sober,” Tiff took note of her internal state.

“Well, have this then!” Cook yelled.

Everyone sitting down around them, especially JJ, was startled as Cook, being unnecessarily loud and violent as usual, slammed a giant beer mug of clear liquid on the table. JJ and Tiff were both equally confused.

“A glass of water?” Tiff questioned, furrowing her brows.

“Nope. Vodka,” Cook said with a toothy grin, “Courtesy of Keith!”

JJ made a face, horrified at this revelation.

“You expect me to drink that entire thing, right now?!” Tiff shouted.

Freddie just shook his head, disapproving of Cook’s usual antics. Effy, however, couldn’t be more thrilled.

“Yeah!” Cook yelled. “Drink it!”

“Seriously?!” Tiff yelled at him, “You expect me to drink that?!”

JJ began to feel more and more sorry for Tiffany, a girl he felt was far too calm and kind for the likes of Cook. It was completely irrelevant to the situation, but JJ couldn’t also help but notice the strangely perfect way the tiny cut of black leather Tiff considered a top clung to her breasts.

“How many more times do I have to tell you, you deaf fuck?!” Cook yelled. “Drink it!”

“Stop—” JJ tried to speak up, but his voice faltered. “Stop yelling at her…”

“You drink it!” she exclaimed indignantly.

“Too late!” Cook yelled at her. “Already drank one before!”

“That is true, unfortunately. I watched him,” Freddie decided to chime in.

Tiff scowled at what must have been an entire soup bowl full of vodka, a pained expression on her face as if she was already about to vomit. JJ noticed this as he sat next to her, looking at her anxiously.

“Tiff, you don’t have to drink that…” JJ promised her, hoping he could save her from Cook.

But evidently, JJ hadn’t anticipated that he couldn’t even save Tiffany Wheeler from herself. Tiff scoffed at JJ’s coddling, waving him off.

“Fuck that!” she yelled at no one in particular. “I’m drinking it!”

“Oh,” Naomi Campbell frowned, “Please don’t drink that…”

Katie scoffed in response, “You know she’s gonna drink it.”

“Tiff makes me wish I was gay,” Effy offered her own insight.

Freddie frowned as he looked at her. Emily went oddly quiet.

“Me too,” Panda assured Effy, as Effy just smirked.

“Tiff…!” JJ complained quietly, genuine fear in his eyes.

“That’s my girl!” Cook proclaimed.

Tiff angrily pointed an angry finger at him. “I am not your girl!”

“Whoo!” Effy shouted, applauding.

“Drink it, Tiff!” Cook encouraged.

The entire group had given into Cook, and Tiff, by now, and were all either eager enablers, or silent bystanders.

“Tiffany,” JJ said nervously, his hand urgently on her thigh like a child begging his mother, “Please… You don’t have to drink that. You’ll get sick,” he insisted.

Tiff rolled her eyes as she got up, grabbing Cook’s beer before shaking her head aggressively. While Cook had never looked more excited for anything in his life, JJ could hardly stand to watch. He’d seen Tiff drink or smoke, or behave in a generally irresponsible or otherwise inappropriate manner before, but this was different. He knew there was no way that this was going to end well, at all.

“Fuck that!” Tiff roared belligerently, snatching the obscene amount of vodka off the table.

Cook watched, practically shaking. He looked like a bomb about to go off. Everyone watched, the entire pub now growing louder and louder as Cook started a chant.

“Tiff! Tiff! Tiff! Tiff! Tiff!”

Tiff became brazen as she raised the glass of vodka to the entire room, caution and discretion thrown to the wind. “I’m fucking Tiff!”

Cook roared with laughter as he and the others all cheered for her, watching in both absolute horror and awe as she downed just about the entire beer mug of vodka. JJ watched in shock as Tiff drank the liquor in a sickeningly grotesque display of blatant alcoholism. Evidently, this was a polarizing act that generally split the room into either feelings of disgust, or reverence. Pandora was squealing in excitement.

JJ seemed to be feeling both as he watched this firecracker of a girl. In a somehow fortunate series of events, Tiff seemed to accidentally spill a significant amount of vodka down her front, which seemed to be the least of her worries at the moment, given the extremely nauseous expression on her face. JJ found it extremely worrisome that the alarming intake of alcohol only seemed to encourage Tiff, as she gradually finished the entire mug of vodka, growling at the foul taste of the liquor as Cook cheered her on. Much to everyone’s horror, Tiff impulsively chucked the empty mug of vodka at the wall, nearly hitting Freddie, who ducked in shock.

Tiff raised her arm as she yelled, “Fuck yeah!”

Panda applauded her, jumping up and down. JJ’s thoughts raced at a million miles an hour as Cook, too full of chaotic and destructive energy, grabbed Tiff and slammed her against the wall behind them. JJ, Naomi, and Freddie all audibly gasped as Cook pinned a giggling Tiff to the wall by her hips, his face aggressively between her breasts as he hungrily lapped up all the spilled vodka.

“Fucking love tits!” Cook yelled, receiving validation from just about every male in the room at that point.

Freddie nearly threw up at the mere idea of that ungodly mixture of vodka, sweat, and saliva from multiple sources. Effy found herself oddly aroused, not unlike JJ, who required multiple gulps in order to keep breathing after witnessing that.

Multiple people around the room cheered and whistled as Tiff finally pushed Cook off of her. She grabbed the beer on the table where she’d been sitting with JJ, decided to slam it in the hopes of countering her nausea. Naomi and Emily both nearly vomited at the sight. Tiff downed the entire mug of beer in addition to the vodka she’d just drank, barely able to stand upright as she took the now empty glass, chucking it at another wall. JJ stared as Katie then had to duck all the projectile broken glass.

Tiff laughed wildly, without a single care in the world, as Effy Stonem decided to instigate and supply an already psychotic Cook with another shot of vodka.

Most normal people would have expected him to at least just drink it, but of course, Cook was far from a normal person. Instead, he decided to roughly pick Tiff up, and splay her out on the table like a dinner spread, spilling a bunch of drinks over Katie and Emily. Freddie and JJ both had unpleasantly out-of-body experiences as Cook carelessly dumped the shot all over Tiff’s exposed chest, sucking it up like a man discovering a desert oasis. JJ couldn’t believe what he was seeing, but it taught him something important; he’d been wrong about Tiffany Wheeler.

This whole time, JJ had believed that Tiff was a quiet, thoughtful girl who was in the wrong company. But this, it seemed, was not true; Tiff was in the exact right company. Tiff was no better than Cook, not really. JJ had initially found it strange that Tiff and Cook were friends; he thought it had to be an ‘opposites attract’ sort of situation; he thought they were like hellish fire, and soothing ice. This was true, of course, but not in the way JJ had imagined. They were more like two sides of the same coin, because at the end of the day, fire and ice both burn. Ice just takes longer to stick to you.

*****

The group left the pub fairly late; it was already dark out, and nothing good was happening beyond its doors. The only ‘sober’ ones were Emily, and JJ. Everyone else was some degree of sloshed, too caught up in their own highs and libidos to pay much attention to anything. Cook was causing trouble out on the streets while Freddie policed him, or attempted to, and most of the girls were just drunk and talking incessantly, except for Effy, who was always quiet by choice.

In that moment, she only talked to Tiff. Effy and Tiff had been walking alongside one another alone, until JJ awkwardly wandered up. JJ’s presence silenced Effy once again, as she took a proverbial and literal step back, allowing JJ to talk to Tiff, or at the very least, try. Tiff, while sober enough to walk and avoid most trouble as they all walked about the night, was drunk enough to be diagnosed as alcohol poisoning. She was slowly walking somewhat from side to side, concerning JJ greatly as he looked back at Effy, not sure why no one was paying more attention to her.

“Tiff. Hey,” JJ said soberly, lifting her up as they walked.

Tiff was so drunk, JJ had no idea how she was still conscious, but to his surprise, she was still speaking, pretty coherently.

“JJ,” she breathed, looking around.

Her vision was mostly bright rays of light splashed over total darkness.

“Tiff, you need to be careful,” JJ told her, looking up at Cook ahead of them.

Cook was currently fixated on Freddie, and harassing him. JJ silently cursed his friend, not appreciating how he’d been almost solely responsible for getting Tiff this drunk, and yet was nowhere to be seen.

“Come on,” JJ said urgently, trying to get her to focus.

“Fuck off, I’m fine,” Tiff spat, as she half leaned on JJ.

“Well,” JJ remarked, “You can say that… That’s a good sign, right?”

Tiff held tightly to his arm as they walked, much to Effy’s curiosity. JJ continued to prop Tiff up for a while, looking at her with great care in his eyes. After about ten minutes of trailing behind most of the group, JJ stopped in the middle of the street.

“Is this your street…?” he asked Tiff.

“No, it’s not this one,” she muttered.

JJ frowned in confusion, almost certain that this was where Cook and Tiff both lived.

“Which one is it, then?” he asked her, genuinely determined to find it and get her home. “It’s around here somewhere, I know it…”

Tiff grumbled as they walked, “I know how to get there from here…”

JJ turned to look at her. “Well, where is it, then, Tiff?” he asked patiently.

Tiff looked up staring at him with dead, half-lidded eyes. “Up yours and around the corner!”

JJ paused, then frowned slightly once he heard the half-baked insult, as Tiff chuckled in a low, barely conscious tone.

“Very funny,” JJ assured her somewhat sarcastically.

“You’re very funny,” Tiff giggled.

Normally, JJ would have been at least a little off put by the liquor on her breath, or her general connection to Cook, but the compliment made him blush, against his will.

“Stop it,” he murmured, actually hoping she’d stop paying such attention to him so that he could breathe.

“Never,” Tiff said simply. “I’m… eternal.”

JJ truthfully had no idea what this meant, other than it sounded like something Cook would drunkenly declare. He looked around as Effy eventually tired of them, catching up with the rest of their friends to see what Cook was up to. It seemed they were completely alone.

“Tiff…” JJ began.

“Hmm?”

He struggled to find the right words, and eventually just decided to say what he just felt he needed to.

“Can you… stop drinking? Please…?” he asked hopefully, all out of luck.

She stared at him as if he’d spoken another language.

“Never,” Tiff said, her tone melancholic and final this time.

JJ just stared back, nodding as he accepted that this was probably nonnegotiable for her, much like Cook. He struggled to come up with something else to say, to try to convince her.

“Tiff… You should really stop,” he advised her, “What… What if you die?” he asked her desperately.

“If I drink,” she slurred, “I might die… If I quit… I’ll have to die. I think I’d rather take my chances… Not see it coming,”she decided.

What she said filled him with the most foul sense of dread.

“Tiffany… Please…” JJ took her hands, holding them ceremoniously. “Lots of people…”

He realized that, knowing Tiff, there weren’t many appropriate words to describe her relationships.

“…Like you,” he declared finally.

Her dark eyes stared back at his blankly, without recognition.

“Yeah? Like who?” she questioned skeptically.

He frowned as he held her hands in his. “Well. I can’t really speak for anyone else, but… I… like you,” he professed.

Tiff just frowned. “Honestly, JJ… I care about you. I really do…”

He found this hard to believe, but not necessarily through any fault of hers.

“But ever since my brother died, all people are shit,” she confessed drunkenly. “Ever since Andrew died, all I can think about is how I’d trade every one of them for him…”

He just looked at her poignantly, unable to form any sort of coherent response.

“I think when I lost Andrew, the last living piece of my soul died,” Tiff stated darkly, completely uninhibited, “I can still feel, but it’s like one of those phantom pains… I feel in the absence of feeling… It’s like I can’t get it up emotionally, JJ. It’s horrible.”

He looked at her with the utmost sympathy. He thought she’d say something else, anything else, to explain, or at least continue, but she just stood there, barely standing, saying nothing at all. JJ hated the silence that followed what she’d said. He stopped by the sidewalk to steady her, not sure what else to do about anything at that point.

“It is this one, I think,” JJ determined, still not quite confident. “Alright… Let’s sit down.”

He slowly lowered himself down on the curb, sitting Tiff beside him. But much to his dismay, she leaned over completely, gagging a bit before completely vomiting onto his lap before he even realized it. JJ yelled out in surprise, horrified and disgusted as Tiff finished throwing up before eventually keeling over on the sidewalk.

“Sorry…”

He grimaced as he looked down at his lap, covered in vomit that was alarmingly liquid. That made sense, JJ thought, that she hadn’t really eaten anything today. He sighed as he found no suitable solution to the vomit. Not knowing what to do, or what he could do, JJ just got up with Tiff, who was now at least more awake, and feeling better. JJ put an awkward arm around her as they walked down the street, searching for Tiff’s house. Eventually, JJ recognized Tiff’s house, suddenly thankful that Cook had once described it to him in one of his lustful rants about Tiff.

JJ slowly staggered up to the front door, heart pounding in his chest as he led Tiff. He knew that no parent in their right mind would welcome any stranger carrying their drunk and nearly unconscious teenage daughter into their home. His heart quite literally pounding in his chest, JJ knocked on the door, glad to see the light on, hoping it wasn’t too late. Much to his relief, after a minute or two, the front door opened, and a tired Rebecca Meeks stood there in her comfortable clothes.

“Hi, Mum!” Tiff giggled.

Rebecca frowned as JJ just winced, trying his best to smile at the woman.

“I, uh… Brought Tiffany home…” JJ supplied.

Rebecca sighed exhaustedly as she looked at her daughter in her horribly intoxicated state, not necessarily shocked.

“Come on in, then,” Rebecca sighed.

Rebecca shut the door, allowing JJ in, which he was grateful for.

“You have a lovely home…” JJ tried.

Rebecca just stared at him, not quite sure what his deal was as she just sighed, looking up the stairs. She then looked back at JJ horrified as she looked down at his pants. JJ looked down, mortified as he remembered the vomit.

“Sorry…” was all JJ could muster.

Rebecca just looked at Tiff before sighing, running into the kitchen for paper towels.

“Here… Her room’s up there,” she said as JJ helped somewhat carry Tiff up the stairs.

“I’ll help you, ma’am,” JJ nodded.

He sighed exhaustedly, trying to be as gentle as possible as he and Rebecca ended up just kind of tossing stuff on her bed. JJ watched with pity as Tiff immediately closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep as she laid in her own bed covered in liquor and general disgustingness. Rebecca just shook her head, turning off the light as she brought JJ back downstairs. JJ stepped off the stairs as Rebecca crossed her arms, eyeing him.

“You’re not like the other one,” Rebecca observed.

JJ frowned. “‘The other one’?”

“Cook,” she stated.

“Ah,” JJ nodded, immediately understanding what she was noticing.

He didn’t necessarily know what to say.

“…How so?” he decided to ask eventually.

Rebecca frowned. “Somebody raised you,” was all she had to say.

JJ frowned again, not knowing what this meant, or how to respond to it.

“I…I guess that’s true,” he offered shyly. “Thank you, Mrs. Wheeler…”

“Why does everybody fucking call me that…?” Rebecca scoffed.

JJ gulped, fearing he’d offended her. “S-Sorry…”

She just shook her head. “Not your fault… Please. Just call me ‘Rebecca’, will you?” she asked, a certain exhaustion in her voice.

JJ just nodded. “Of course, Rebecca,” he rectified quickly.

She smiled at this. “I like you… You’re like a human puppy.”

JJ looked at her in confusion.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“JJ,” he offered, then suddenly realizing that sounded too informal, “Or… Jonah Jeremiah Jones,” he sounded almost ashamed.

Rebecca frowned. “Jesus. JJ it is,” she scoffed.

JJ chuckled, now feeling oddly at ease. Talking to Tiff’s mum was strangely like talking to Freddie and Cook, or Tiff. He couldn’t exactly explain it, but Rebecca had the exact same calming effect as her daughter. JJ saw, now, the resemblance between them.

“Rebecca…?” he piped up.

“Hmm?”

“So, you’ve… met Cook?” JJ wondered.

She nodded. “I have.”

JJ liked the way she talked; her sentences were often short, and concise. Like Tiff.

“You… You said that I’m different… From him,” he clarified.

Rebecca nodded. “I did.”

“How…” JJ felt strange asking this question, “How am I different, from Cook…?”

Rebecca frowned, taking a moment to answer the question. “Well, you’re much sweeter… Not that Cook isn’t sweet, in his own way, I suppose.”

JJ hadn’t expected this review of Cook.

“But, mostly… I can tell the difference between how Tiff sees the two of you,” Rebecca stated.

“Really?” JJ asked her, now extremely confused.

“Yeah,” Rebecca scoffed, “Tiff won’t talk about Cook unless I force her to. But she mentions you.”

JJ looked at her curiously. “She does?”

He had no idea why Tiff would do that.

“Mm-hmm,” the woman responded, “She does. Not a lot, but… enough.”

“But… why?” JJ asked her.

Rebecca smiled sympathetically. “Because she isn’t ashamed of you.”

JJ had about a million questions he wanted to ask in that moment, but he could utter none of them. He completely shut down, staring and stuttering as Rebecca looked at him nervously.

“JJ, are you alright?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah,” he nodded quickly, already heading for the door, “Yeah…”

Rebecca frowned, feeling horrible for the young boy, watching as he stumbled out of the house. She stood by the door, watching fearfully as he stumbled down the sidewalk.

“Get home safe, please, JJ…”

JJ nodded, but could say nothing as he just kept walking, or trying to.

part eleven.

#james cook #james cook fanfic #james cook x reader #jack o’connell #jack o’connell fanfic #skins cook #skins gen 2 #skins uk #skins jj #skins fic

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cheeseyberg · 2 years ago

Text

Part 3 of this fic Part 4

Steve is shrugging on his vest and getting ready to clock in when Robin comes into the store and makes a beeline for him, "Are you and Nancy back together?"

"Good morning to you too, Robin. I slept fine last night. My morning was also pleasant. What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Steven Elizabeth Harrington-"

"Not my name." Steve rests his forearms on the counter facing Robin.

"-I walked into the kitchen yesterday to you twirling her around in your arms and goddamn giggling! Don't get smart with me."

"Wouldn't dream of it Bobby."

Robin leans across from Steve, mirroring his posture, "Seriously, if you're back together you have to tell me, it's best friend law. Are you a criminal Steven? Are you breaking best friend laws?"

"Stop government naming me! No, we are not back together. We're friends again and she was teasing me about my stupidly embarrassing crush on Eddie Munson. She said she thinks he likes me back Rob. But you're friends with him, you would know if he liked me, wouldn't you?"

"I... In theory, yes that is probably information I would know." Robin straightens up and tilts her head to the side like she's considering the possibility.

"And you're my best friend, and best friend law would mean you're obligated to tell me, right?"

Robin steps back from the counter putting space between her and Steve and glances behind her towards the door. "I'm not sure that best friend case law covers that particular area."

Steve stands straight up and smacks his hand against the counter and then points at Robin, "YOU DO KNOW SOMETHING!"

"I don't know anything or even if there is anything to know and even if I did know something, which I definitely do not, it wouldn't be my secret to tell. Okay bye Steve, see you later!" Robin yells over her shoulder as she runs out the door, saying it all so fast that Steve is impressed that she didn't pause for breath.

"Well, that was weirder than usual, even for her." Steve mutters as he watches her mount her bike and take off down the street.

"It definitely was." A voice says from Steve's right side, making him jump.

"Where the hell did you come from!?" Steve looks wildly around and past Max, scanning for any more of his children sneaking up on him.

"I've been here since before you, Keith let me in when he opened. And for the record, Robin definitely knows more than she's saying."

"How do you know?" Steve is suspicious but still desperate for information, "Wait, how much of that did you hear?"

"All of it. But your 'stupidly embarrassing crush on Eddie Munson' isn't exactly a secret, Steven. You're always looking at him like a lost puppy dog. Like you want to wrap him up and take him home to-"

"Okay! Enough Maxine-"

"Now who's government naming?"

"You started it."

"Actually, Robin started it, but do you want to know how I know she's keeping secrets or not?"

"You're right Max, Robin is the villain here, please tell me what she's hiding."

"Don't try to butter me up. And I never said I knew what she was hiding, just that she is hiding something. I can guess at what it is, but I think you already know. After we left your house yesterday Eddie dropped off Dustin, but Robin came back to the trailer park with Eddie and me. I went home and Robin went with Eddie. About an hour later, I heard the van leave and when it came back Eddie was alone, so he must have been dropping her off."

"So, they were alone for about an hour and that's your proof?"

"No, that's circumstantial. My proof is that when Eddie came home, he knocked on my door and asked me for help running errands today. He said he would give me $5 to return some movies for him. He dropped me off 20 minutes ago and he's picking me up," Max looks towards the front of the store where Eddie's van is pulling into the lot, "right about now. Combined with whatever that was that Robin just did, I think that smells like a plan."

Steve could see it. It made sense. If Eddie did like him then that would explain why Robin ran in here asking about Nancy and why Max was here, giving Eddie a chance to come in and see Steve. Robin knew he would be working right now, and he could just bet that Eddie had been waiting off on a side street for Robin to report back about Nancy. Max had clearly already put all that together and he could see in her face that she was watching him fit the pieces together as well.

"You know, you're a lot smarter than we give you credit for Steve," Max smirked at him and then turned towards the door as Eddie walked in.

@charliechaplintheawesome @flwerkitty @dbquills @zerokrox-blog @bidisastersworld @respect-snails @estrellami-1 @4nemo1egend

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #max mayfield #max the meddler #I think Robin broke best friend law too honestly #Eddie isn’t as sneaky as he thinks #max and Steve as besties

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fkinkindagauche · 19 days ago

Text

All I Ever Wanted Help With Was You

Finally time to post my fic for @steddieexchange! It's for Dorian (Sal3m_hfc on AO3). Hope you enjoy!

Also using this for a @steddiebingo 2025 Round One prompt, Vampire AU.

Rating: Explicit | WC: 8,651 | Tags: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Vampire Eddie Munson, Human Steve Harrington, Friends to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, There Was Only One Bed, Virgin Eddie Munson, Top Eddie Munson, Bottom Steve Harrington, First Time, Blood Drinking, Size Kink, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Jason Carver Being an Asshole

Summary: Steve agrees to help Eddie out by pretending to be his human companion for a vampire gathering.

Read the whole thing on AO3.

“Steve. Stevie. My dearest friend. I need your help,” Eddie pleads, slumping onto the couch next to Steve.

They’re at Robin’s place getting ready to watch a movie. Eddie is, as usual, all up in Steve’s space. Steve refuses to shift away from him. He won’t give Eddie the satisfaction of knowing he makes Steve uncomfortable.

“With what, Eddie?” Steve sighs, wondering what the hell Eddie’s gotten himself into this time.

“There’s this thing happening the weekend before Christmas,” Eddie says. “A vampire thing, with the coven I’m trying to join. It’s some sort of Midwinter festival, a weekend of, like, sensual partying I guess? At this estate up in Michigan.”

“How could I possibly help you with that?” Steve asks, puzzled.

“Well, see. I got invited by this vampire I met last week, Chrissy,” Eddie explains, putting his hand on Steve’s thigh. That’s fine. Steve can be normal about this. “She’s kind of a higher-up in the coven leadership. But I don’t wanna go alone, because the invitation specifically gives me a plus one, for a human or vampiric companion. And I don’t wanna be that one guy who shows up companionless.”

“A companion… is that, like, a date?” Steve is even more perplexed.

“Typically it does connote a sexual relationship,” Eddie concedes, “unless the vampire is asexual. Which I am most certainly not.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

Steve is well aware that Eddie’s not asexual. Eddie tells all of them, at length, about the fantastic sex he has with the people he feeds from. He says that vampire bites are an aphrodisiac, and his willing victims can’t help but jump his bones afterwards.

“You want me to… find you a companion? I’m not a pimp, Eddie,” Steve grumbles.

“No!” Eddie yells. “I want you to pretend to be my companion. You’ve got the whole pretty rich boy thing going. It would look good, showing them I could net someone like you.”

Steve blushes, unable to hold back his reaction to the backhanded praise from Eddie. He fixates on the word “pretend” to make sure he doesn’t get his hopes up. “I have to work,” Steve protests.

Eddie groans. “Don’t you get, like, vacation time? Isn’t that a human thing?”

“You were a human one year ago,” Steve points out. Eddie has a tendency to talk like he’s a decades-old vampire who’s seen things, and Steve always likes to bring him down a notch.

Eddie waves a hand dismissively. “I’ve forgotten many of the human traditions since then.”

Steve snorts. “If you can get Keith to give me the time off, I’ll come with you.” He doesn’t think that’s even remotely possible. Keith hates Steve, and loves to make him work on weekends, so he figures it’s a good way to say no without having to actually say no.

Eddie nods. “Challenge accepted,” he says, squeezing Steve’s thigh and getting up to go help Robin with the popcorn. If Steve has to adjust himself following Eddie’s hand’s proximity to his upper thigh after that, no one needs to know.

Eddie somehow convinces Keith to give Steve the time off. Steve suspects drugs were involved, but Eddie claims he’s just that persuasive. Steve, who had been sure there was no way he’d get a whole weekend off at the last minute, has backed himself into a corner.

“But… what are we even going to do the whole weekend?” Steve whines after Eddie tells him the news.

“There’s going to be activities,” Eddie says vaguely.

“What kind? Vampiric mini golf?” Steve quips, hands on hips.

“I’m not actually sure,” Eddie mutters, looking thoughtful.

“You’re taking me to a vampire convention and you don’t even know what’s going to happen there?”

“Aww, don’t be scared, Stevie,” Eddie teases. “I’ll protect you from all the vampires.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Eddie, you’re a fledgling.”

Eddie raises a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “You wound me. I’ll have you know I’m an extremely precocious vampire. Wise and powerful beyond my years.”

Steve snorts. Robin walks back in from the bathroom, sitting on the couch next to Steve. “Eddie’s making me go to the vampire thing to be his little bitch,” Steve announces.

Robin laughs. “Did you have to give Keith a blowjob to make that happen, Eddie?”

“Yes,” Eddie replies. “It was so good he offered to give Steve paid leave for the rest of his life, but I told him no need, I just need Steve for the weekend.”

“You do have a really big mouth,” Steve says, very pleased he’s actually able to get a blush out of Eddie. It’s rare, usually Eddie’s the one making Steve blush, but every once in a while Steve gets him.

“You guys are gross.” Robin cringes, sticking her tongue out at them.

“Pretty sure you got us onto this particular topic, Birdie,” Eddie interjects.

Robin ignores him. “Are you sure it’s going to be safe? For Steve?”

“I can take care of myself,” Steve grumbles.

“Everyone’s allowed to bring a human companion, safety guaranteed by the coven,” Eddie assures.

Steve sighs and slumps down on the couch. There’s probably no way out of this. And it will be nice to have a weekend away from Keith.

“Alright. Do I have to bring, like, fancy clothes?” Steve asks. He can’t imagine Eddie ever wearing anything other than jeans, a band tee, and a leather jacket, but he’s trying to lean into the vampirism thing a little more these days.

“The invitation said there’s going to be a ball, which is black tie.”

“Eddie, do you even know what black tie means?” Steve asks.

“Well, I assume, Steven, that it means I need a black tie,” Eddie snarks.

Steve sighs and drops his head into his hands. “We’re gonna need to go shopping.”

Read the whole thing on AO3.

Divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #steddie fanfiction #my fics #steddiebingoroundone

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cherubcameron · 2 years ago

Text

Not an idiot

The moment he got home, he got in bed. Not caring if he was in outside clothes. You were already on the bed, you’d been reading a book. But set it aside to look at your upset boyfriend.

“Harrington? You okay?” You asked, you leaned in to where his head was buried. Kissing him gently on his cheek that wasn’t pressed onto the bed. He sighed and raised his head.

“Keith called me an idiot because I accidentally messed up one of the tapes. He was yelling so much that Robin had to intervene.” You were softly playing with his hair, you frowned as he recounted what happened.

“You made a mistake, baby. That’s not your fault. Shit happens.” You kept kissing his face, tears were springing out of his eyes.

“I’m always being called an idiot. Or being told that I’m dumb without them saying it. Like great, everyone thinks that’s funny. But sometimes, sometimes it really does get to me. It sucks.” He said, his voice was cracking and it hurt your heart that he was saying these things.

“I know it’s easier said than done. But don’t let them get in your head. It’s just not worth it.” You said, you knew in some way that he was talking about his own friends.

“It hurts more when it comes from Dustin or Robin. Like I get it, I wasn’t the smartest guy at school. Or sometimes it takes me longer to understand certain things. But still I try. I try and it’s just never good enough. I have my own way of thinking things. I don’t know, I’m just rambling.” He buried his face into your lap, holding onto your thighs as he did so.

“Steve, how come you didn’t say so? They’re your friends-.”

“Because then, then it’ll look like I can’t take a joke. I don’t want to look like a dingus.”

You were beginning to see, all the words his friends used on him; were actually hurting him. You didn’t realize until then. You stroked his hair, letting his tears fall on your thighs.

“Baby, if they really care about you. They would understand.”

He shook his head. “I deserve it, for all the years I was an asshole.”

It was your turn to shake your head. “That’s not true, you don’t deserve that Steve. Hey, Steve.” He looked up at you, his eyes were red from crying.

“You’re not an idiot. Just because you understand things differently doesn’t make you dumb. You’re learning things in your own way.”

“Really? You’re not just saying that to make me stop crying.” He said, you laughed a little and shook your head.

“C’mere.” You said. He moved his body upwards as you lowered yourself down. He was now on top of you. His arms circling your body. “I’m not just saying stuff to make you stop crying. I promise I mean it. All of it.”

You kissed him on his lips, you looked into his eyes and he smiled at you.

“I’m glad I have you. You make me feel better about myself. Not to say-.”

“I get what you mean. You don’t have to explain yourself. Why don’t we go and take a bath. That way you can relax. You deserve it.” He nodded his head.

Once you two had made it into the bathroom, you’d put on the water and let the warm water fill the tub. You added bath soap that smelled like roses into it. You helped him get out of his work clothes. He watched you as you did so. Helping you in return.

You both settle into the water, you could tell once he was in the bath. He’d begun to relax more. You kissed his cheeks softly. His hands were on you.

“Turn.”

“Why?” He asked.

“Just turn.” You laughed. He did as you asked, his head falling onto your chest. You gathered some water from the tub and began to run it onto his body. He shivered as you did so. You continued as you gathered water for his hair. Tonight was about him. You even added his favorite shampoo and conditioner into his hair.

“Hey babe?” He said, his eyes were closed as you continued to bath him.

“Yeah?”

“I love you so much. I’m glad I met you.” You kissed his cheek.

“I love you too, I’m glad you’re in my life.” He smiled up at you.

“You’re so getting pounded into tonight by the way.” You let out a laugh, thinking he was joking. But once you looked into his eyes and saw the lust in them. You closed your mouth.

A smirk was on his face as he watched you. Let’s just say you guys didn’t make it into the bedroom.

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff

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walmartbrandwhatever · 2 months ago

Note

There’s this one jump that Marcia can’t get right, so she works herself to the bone trying to perfect it, and every time she falls she just hears trips voice in her ear telling her that it isn’t good enough. Two bit coming to pick her up for dinner but her telling him that she can’t stop practicing, and when he tries to convince her to go with him she just yells at him- they stand there for a moment then she breaks down crying in this arms. I’m going insane.

Her falling back into the same cycle will always make me so sick. Her just not being able to land this jump. She's just utterly exhausted at that point, she hasn't eaten and she's just mentally beating herself up. OMG Imagine like this causes her to first telling him about trip and how he would yell at her and hes just utterly horrified.

Note: I was cooking so hard this turned into a small drabble so I apologize that it took me so long to answer.

Note: another thing tumblr kept deleting my work so I had to take a step back bc I got upset 😔

By the time Two-Bit enters the rink, he sees Marcia attempt some jump he couldn't remember the name of and fall. He watches her for a second, and the clear frustration is written all over her face as she smacks the ice next to her before pushing herself up and preparing to try it again. He glances around the rink, there was no one other person there than her. Making his way to the entrance of the rink, he called out to her to make sure she at least knows he's there and ended up with no response.

With a sigh, he stops at the opening of the rink and watches her try the jump again and fail it again. He knows she's too exhausted to even do the jump right. He calls out to her again, and thankfully, this time, she turns to him, her face scrunched up as her chest rises and falls far too fast. "C'mon Mar, you ain't goin' to get that jump right. Not tonight. Plus you promised me a dinner doll. " A soft smile rested on his face, and he slowly fell the second he realized that she wasn't even planning on leaving any time soon.

"I can't. I'm sorry Two, I can't get this jump, and I need to perfect it. Maybe another time."

She offers him a half ass attempt of a smile before turning and preparing to try the jump again. "You're never going to get it, Mar, not today, at least. Look, I know you want to get it, but you're exhausted, and I bet you haven't paused to eat anything. Just-"

"You don't know shit Keith." She snapped, turning towards him again. He has never heard Marcia yell, let alone at him, so it catches him by complete surprise.

"You what? Know the basics? You don't get it, and you never will. You'll just know You'll never be good enough no matter where you go!" They both just stand there for a moment staring at each other. Two-bit knows that her anger is directed towards herself. He could see the millions of voices screaming at her, telling her the exact words she just told him. For a moment, she reminded him of Darry. God knows how much that boy works himself into the ground. There was one time after a long practice where Two had tried to get Darry to take a break. Darry had turned and yelled at him. At first, Two-bit was hurt, but standing their wide-eyed, he had seen the pain and anger Darry had, and now here he was standing and looking at Marcia, who held the same look in her eye. Well the anger long gone, just replaced by guilt.

She looked like a ghost when the words she said must’ve hit her because her face drops and she looks just about ready to cry. "Shit, I'm sorry - I," she pushes herself over towards him, guilt written all over her. He took a second to gather his thoughts. He knew she didn't mean it. More than likely, she meant it towards herself.

He gave her a small squeeze before attempting to pull away. He stopped the second he heard a small sob. His eyebrows furrowed,

" it's alright, ain't the first time i've been yelled at. Look, I know you're upset, but let's just take a second to breathe. " he took a deep breath and let it out. She followed his actions, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. "There we go. Are you good now?" He watched as she fought back the tears that rolled down her face. Panic quickly filled his body. He hadn’t meant to make her cry. "Hey, hey-hey, whoa, it's alright," he stepped forward, pulling her into a hug.

She wrapped her arms around him tightly, just sobbing into his chest. The genuine pain in her sobs made his heart squeeze because all he wanted was to take all her pain away. He wasn't sure what had gotten her so shook up. The genuine look of fear on her face caught him off guard.

They had stood there for a while, him gently rubbing her back as she cried. Once she seemed to calm down for the most part, he pulled back a bit, just enough to see her face. "Mar hey c'mon talk to me, what's wrong?" She wasn't looking at him. It was the first thing he noticed. Her eyes just burned holes at his chest and her mouth opening and closing a few times before she spoke up. "I'm sorry for yelling at you- God you didn't deserve that.."

"Hey, it's alright, I forgive you. Truly, it happens to the best of us, " his eyes darting around her face, looking for any hints that would tell him what was wrong. "You don't have to tell me what's wrong, but it might help."

That's when she told him about her old partner. At some point, they had sat down as she spoke. Told him about how when things got real stressful, most practices were just her getting screamed at. Yelled at about something that she had done wrong. She then started apologizing and explaining how she could just hear him screaming and the frustration building like it had back then.

It horrified him. Hearing her not only talk about some guy berating her but also berating herself. He gently grabbed her hand and just stared at her for a moment. Marcia took a heavy breath before looking over at him. "Marcia, you never deserved that." Her eyes searched his face, probably trying to find any deceit. "But only if-"

"No, buts. You didn't deserve that point blank no matter how much stress he might’ve been through." Most people think he couldn't be serious, mostly since he's always joking around even in most serious moments, but he can, and in this very moment, he was showing that. He knew Marcia wouldn't believe him, maybe not for a while, but he needed her to know that she didn't deserve getting yelled at. "You swear?"

"I promise. Now how about that dinner?"

She smiled softly, standing up from where she was sitting. For a moment, he thought she was just gonna throw herself back onto the rink, but she headed towards her bag. "Yeah, yeah, just let me pack up"

Watching her unlace her skates and place them onto the bench, he knew that it would all work out. That one day they'd be living life good hand in hand.

#the outsiders #the outsiders musical #the outsiders broadway #marcia the outsiders #marbit #darry curtis #two bit mathews #the outsiders figure skating au #the outsiders ice skating au #trust i am thinking about this so much #like its so bad #ahould i be doing work insead of this?#yes #yes i should #Trevor Wayne as Ponyboy save me #anyways jean i hope you enjoy this #bc i cooked #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders headcanons

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