#hey who's that behind me? why do i hear tape?

[eclipseberrycake]

Top Shelf (Support! Reader x Sprout)

AN: Oooh mr. Seedly. I love making you all fall in love with my version of Sprout >:) Then requesting more Sprout >:) Then I get to write more Sprout >:)

This is a request!

☁ Now, now, now. A support toon.

☁ Hear me out. An ability like Gigi, but instead of getting the objects yourself, you give a random object to a toon of your choice.

☁ Of course, you give this to Sprout, all the time. Because it's funny.

☁ Imagine he's hiding from a twisted behind a box and is suddenly pelted by gumballs falling from the air above him, your giggles falling away.

☁ Just as he goes to yell at you, the twisted spots him and he's left running to lose them, glaring at you as you snicker from your own hiding place.

☁ Sprout is an overprotective guy, we've established well enough, and this ability kind of pisses him off.

☁ Why is he taking something, especially when luck strikes and it's something like a band or a med-kit, when it could be going to you?

☁ A part of him knows that this is your way of showing affection however. You do what you can to protect him while he's always giving you heals whenever needed. It's a give and take really.

☁ I haven't really touched on it directly in the MBC works, but Sprout is a touchy guy. He loves just touching for no reason. But he's a jerk when he does it/ affectionate

☁ He's leaning on you like you're a table, messing with your head, using his hands to steer your shoulders wherever he wants, holding you like one would hold a cat, crouching down to talk face-to-face with you even if the height difference isn't that great.

☁ He even does that thing where he holds your forehead with one hand while the other holds something out of your reach.

☁ Like I'm sorry but I love the Lovers who are actually each others biggest haters. It's so funny to me.

☁ Don't get me wrong, if you're with Sprout, you're probably returning it tenfold.

☁ You call him over for tapes only to take them the second he's close enough to do so (Oooh ginger mains when I CATCH YOU GINGER MAINS-), running off giggling even if he's quick enough to catch you. You're making sure you're using your ability when he's in the worst situation, making him stumble to catch the bottle of pop as Twisted Teagan chases him down.

☁ It's all in good fun, trust.

☁ You guys probably get together because he's talking to Cosmo about his feelings an Cosmo goes "You want me to set you up with them?" And like a FOOL, he agrees. So, in the elevator where it's isolated with no escape route, Cosmo SCREAMS across the elevator. "HEY Y/N SPROUT LIKES YOU!"

☁ He would throttle the cake roll yet.

☁ He nearly did when you turned at the sound of your name from your conversation with Glisten, who hides his laugh behind his hand. You're cheeks immediately flush as your brain computes the knowledge given to you and Sprout wants to crawl into a hole and die.

☁ And then you laugh. It's slow little giggles and then hearty laughter that makes his stomach flip hearing it. You shake your head before beaming. "I would hope so, as far as I'm aware, we've been dating for months."

☁ Which was news to him. He gapes as Cosmo cackles, patting Sprout's back before running into the newly opened room. The only two left in the elevator are him and you. You watch the others leave, before stepping just enough the elevator won't kick you out, watching Sprout as he steps beside you.

☁ He avoids your eyes as he scratches the back of his neck, his own seeded cheeks turning a more ruby red. You grin at him, gently taking his hand. "What's wrong, Seedly?"

☁ All signs of the bashful, shy Sprout are immediately dashed as he deadpans at you, raising a brow ridge at the use of his name. You smirk up at him again, nudging him with a shoulder.

☁ "Did you really think we were dating?" He suddenly asks and your face falls. It makes his own gut twist as he goes to try and rectify it, but you're already talking, trying to take your hand back. "I'm so sorry, did I read the signs all wrong? I thought when you mentioned feeling closed to me a couple weeks ago-"

☁ He had done that. He mentioned being closest with you weeks ago, and was going confess then, but wussed out. To know now, that you took it that way anyway? His hands tighten around yours. "I was!" He blurts. "I was going to, admittedly." He frowns at this even as you stop trying to pull away. "I chickened out, but I do like you. A lot. I did then and I do now."

☁ You stare at him before letting out a sigh of relief, shaking your head with a grin. "Oh, Mr. Seedly-"

☁ "Well if you're calling me that-" Sprout is the one to try and pull away this time, making you giggle as you try and grab him again, saying all sorts of denials and apologies through your laughter.

☁ He lets you grab his cheeks, staring into the pools of your eyes with a dopey grin on his face. Sure Cosmo was being chased by a twisted right now, but he'd be fine. He deserved it. At least for a little.

☁ "Can I kiss you?" You ask suddenly, and his cheeks burn a bright red, only able to mindlessly nod his head. You reach up and press a kiss to his lips, only a quick peck, but he swears fireworks go off somewhere.

☁ You grin at him once more and there's suddenly something much heavier and cylindrical in his hands. You're waving as you run off, and he's left staring between his hand, which now holds a can of pop, and you're retreating form before laughing at himself and what's he's gotten himself into before turning to save Cosmo.

☁ Cosmo gives him all sorts of scoldings in the elevator after the fact, but Sprout can't even find it in himself to care, leaning his chin on your head even as you swat at him.

☁ He does love your ability, let me add, he just wishes sometimes you'd use it in a better time. There are times however when it's perfect.

☁ He doesn't distract often, not if he can help it, but when he does and he feels himself running on empty, only for a bottle of pop to appear? He's forever thankful. Or when he's been too busy healing everyone else, he doesn't realize he himself has been hit until he's being smoked with a bandage box.

☁ In return, he throws cupcakes at you.

☁ All in the names of healing.

☁ He's such a turd sometimes I swear.

[center-for-catboy-control]

person sized box for you ?

:] box

[luveline]

Hello Jade! I have a request for hotch if that’s okay, I was thinking something like he’s dating sunshine!reader who goes to a police precinct with the team and the sheriff/deputy insults Hotch in front of her (maybe she’s not part of the BAU so he doesn’t realise she knows Hotch?) and she snaps and punches him/pushes him to the ground and afterwards she’s really quiet and refusing to tell anyone what happened cause she doesn’t want Hotch to hear that people were bad mouthing him. Everyone is confused cause she’s usually so bubbly and it’s disconcerting to see her so stern but she has to protect her man damnit 😤

(Ps I’m the anon who got confused about rules n you’re right I was looking under guidelines not requests 🤦🏼‍♀️ sorry!)

hi babe, thank you for your request! (and no worries at all, no sorry necessary!!)

—hotch is dumbfounded when you slap a deputy sheriff, but you have your heartfelt reasons. fem, 2k

You're not specifically BAU, but when Hotch calls, you answer. You don't look BAU either in your skirt with your blue laptop carry case; twice you're asked what you're doing in the precinct and if you need assistance, but eventually you get to the centre of the action upstairs, meandering through the detective's desks toward a conference room with a sticky-taped sign that says to knock before entering. 

"Hey, Spencer," you say, shouldering open the door. "They leave you behind?" 

Spencer turns away from his white board. "I'm more useful here right now. Did you bring the ethernet cable for Garcia?"

You put your laptop case on the table and pull out her desired cable. "Where is she?" It's hard-pressed for Penelope to be found anywhere away from her computer during case times. You must get twenty or more rejection emails a month from your fellow tech analysist. Sorry, working a case :'( 

"Bathroom. There's a kitchen if you need coffee. You have a badge?" 

You flash your visitor's badge at him. "Get you one?" 

"Four sugars. Thanks, L/N." 

You flash him a smile. The kitchen is back the way you came and to the right. It's nowhere near big enough for the workforce, three tables and one microwave next to a sink full of mugs. You smile at anyone who looks at you and beeline for a coffee pot. No one questions you. They must be used to outsiders invading their space this week. 

"Mean fucking guy." 

You tilt your head to the side, hand paused in their cup cabinet above the sink. You shouldn't be nosy, but they're not being very quiet, either.

"He has to be mean, I guess. That's a tight ship to run," says a second voice.

"I'd understand it if I thought they were getting somewhere. It's been four days, and between the string bean and his pushpin map and that tech girl who won't shut up? They're doomed. The boss is either too stubborn or too damn stupid to realise." 

You close the cabinet and turn around. 

"I fucking hate this shit. Ties in their suit jackets coming into our investigation and chasing the wrong leads. We could've had Miller in cuffs two days ago if Hotchner hadn't shut us down, two days ago! And now another kid is dead, and there's not a drop of remorse on him. He doesn't care about doing his job, he–" 

"He what?" you ask. Your heart is beating hard before you've so much as parted your lips, your hands trembling. You screw them into tight balls. 

"Excuse me?" 

Your opposition is a rough hewn man in a deputies badge, a cup of coffee held between two paws. He narrows thick salt and pepper brows at your question, his mouth screwed into a telling snarl. 

"You think Agent Hotchner doesn't care about his job? So why is he here? Why did he agree to take the case?" 

"Who the fuck are you?" 

You shake your head in annoyance and take the FBI badge from your little cross body bag. You toss it on the table, your beaming face looking up at him a juxtaposition to the glare you wear now. 

He stands up from his table. The lunch room hushes but the riot of precinct cacophony stays strong just outside of the door, a thrum that battles your roaring heart. You're so angry you can barely speak, and it'll only get worse. 

"I'm sorry you have to hear it from me, darling, I am, but your boss out there? Agent Hotchner?" The deputy scoffs. "He's a fool running blind. He turned away from the real issue here. He's a prideful, narcissistic idiot who's let the power of his paycheck get to his head, and as far as I'm concerned? So long as he stops us from arresting Jaden Miller? He's a murderer, too. The blood is on his hands." 

You know you're going to slap him from the moment he says 'murderer', but the knee to his crotch straight after is a surprise even to yourself. All you're thinking for one horrible white-hot moment is How can I hurt him? It's shameful, and you slam your knee up a second time anyhow. 

—

"You can tell me what happened now or later, but it's going to be much easier on you if you tell me now." 

Hotch hates this part. What he wouldn't give to have someone else here to reprimand you. He understands why Gideon left and he wouldn't want him back unwillingly, but Hotch thinks your nightly phone call may go over smoother tonight if it were Gideon standing in his place. Half the time Hotch finds he's uninterested in scolding you. It's why you stay firmly in your department and away from his bias in the BAU. He can't be optimal at his job while you're around. 

It's not limited to telling you off, of course. When you're near, he wants to act like it. He wants to take your hand, hold your arm, rub a palm between your shoulders. He wants to pull you into his lap, or pinch the soft lobe of your ear between his fingers to watch you shiver, blow warm air at the back of your neck to hear your laugh. This cold silence is his worst nightmare, but he can't cross the line. 

Well, he can't cross the line too much. 

In the privacy of a cordoned, borrowed office, Hotch can sit beside you. The blinds are closed, and his intimidation act wasn't getting him anywhere anyways. More flies with honey than vinegar. 

"I can't show favouritism here, do you understand? Especially when you're being physically violent against the deputy sheriff." Hotch watches the soft pillow of your bottom lip tremble in a private terror. "I know you wouldn't do this for no reason. I know. Give me a reason to take your side and I will." 

"I don't want to talk about it." 

"Did he say something inappropriate?" 

You don't answer.

"Did he?" Hotch can feel the anger he's been pushing down start to rise. When a woman like you, happy-go-lucky, pretty, and always smiling, turns to violence, it's not hard to picture why. He knows full well the horrible things a man can say to a woman. "Please, trust me to take care of this." 

"Hotch, I really don't want to talk about this. You can reprimand me, send me home." 

"No. Tell me what he said." 

You glare at him. Hotch finds with a heart-skipping hurt that it's the first time he's been on the receiving end of your disdain. "No. I don't want to." 

"And I don't want to send you home." He knows how he looks, stony-eyed and furrowed brow. He has to try hard to relax into a more neutral expression. "I won't. Not when I know you'd never hurt someone." 

"Well, I did." 

"We all do things we don't mean to in anger." 

In the quiet, he can hear Emily asking loud questions about what happened, and her almost comedic gasp as someone informs her of the situation. Morgan couldn't find the words to tell Hotch over the phone what happened, just told him to hurry back, and it was doubly difficult to get the story out of Spencer, who'd been the one responsible for standing in your way. 

"He called her a bitch," Spencer told him. "I didn't want to hold her back after that." 

The sheriff deputy has a good hundred pounds on you, so no matter what he called you, Hotch is glad you were pulled away. 

Hearing that you'd been called a bitch set his nerves aflame. When Spencer explained that this was said by a man on his knees after a swift jab to the crotch, Hotch was more confused. 

He follows a whim. He's biassed for sure, but he knows you're the most beautiful woman in any room that you walk into. It doesn't shock him that a high-ranking authority figure would take advantage of his position to make a pass at you. 

"You have nothing to be ashamed of," he says softly. "Whatever he said to you, I– I'm not supposed to support violence, but I understand if it got too much. Sexual harassment is unjustifiable, and I'll stand with you and your actions completely." 

"He didn't harass me, Aaron," you say, looking down at your knees. You're wearing dark stockings, pinching at the fabric distractedly. 

"Did he touch you?" 

"No, Aaron–" You sigh frustratedly. "I don't want to tell you what he said because it's not true." 

"He insulted you?" 

"He insulted you." You glance at him and then away. "I couldn't stand it." 

If there weren't cameras in the room he'd bundle you into his arms and kiss the slope of your cheek, because how is he supposed to handle this? You're hitting people when they talk bad about him now? 

Hotch doesn't need to ask to know it was bad. You're a well-meaning, well-adjusted person. You'd hardly hit somebody for calling Hotch a jerk. Something severe would've been said to have pushed you over the edge, but, to his detriment, Hotch has heard a thousand awful things about himself from a thousand different mouths, and he doesn't worry about what it was. 

"Alright. Listen to me carefully." Your shoulders stiffen. "I don't want you hurting people over me. I don't need you to defend me. I don't want you to fight my battles for me, and I certainly don't want you assaulting people on my behalf." 

Your lip again begins to tremble. "I'm sorry." 

"No. Don't be sorry." He covers your knee in his hand gently, ducking his head to meet your glassy eyes. He's gone about this the wrong way, upsetting you unnecessarily. He rushes to correct it. "I love that you want to defend me, I love that you did, and it isn't lost on me how much it means to have you at my side, but… You could have been seriously injured. Honey, picking on someone your own size is a double-sided coin. What if the deputy hit you back?" 

"I'm not afraid of getting hurt." 

He leans down more, imploring, desperate to be heard. "I'm afraid of you getting hurt. Me. I'm worried someone's going to hurt you when I'm not around." 

"He was saying all this stuff about you and it wasn't true–" 

"It's okay," he says, shaking his head slowly from one side to another. "It doesn't matter. I know what people like him think of me, and he's not in an easy position." He drops his voice to a murmur for your ears alone. "I'm not saying you should agree with him, I can't tell you that I like him much." 

You laugh weakly, the sound quickly melding to a sniffle. "I'm sorry, Aaron. I shouldn't have hit him. I don't know what came over me." 

"We get angry for the people we care about." 

He can't kiss you, really, not at work, but he can show you some heavy affection. It's a boundary crossed. Luckily, Hotch knows you won't report him. 

"Thank you for defending me. You can stay on the case if you promise not to do it again," he says, squeezing your smaller hand in his, drawing a lopsided heart with his thumb into the back of it. 

"I'll promise not to do it again if he promises to keep his stupid mouth closed," you mutter. 

"Is it wrong of me to like this version of you?" he says. 

You look him straight in the eye, your usual lightness restored, if dimmed just a touch. "I like all your versions, Agent Hotchner." 

"Good. Remind the version that's your boyfriend to treat you accordingly tonight. Okay?" 

You nod emphatically, both relieved and chastened. "Okay. Thanks, handsome." 

You look tired. Tonight, he'll kiss you like he means it, maybe a touch too rough but apparently you're a hard ass now who can handle it, and he'll hold you close even if he can't give you the attention you deserve until the case is done. He'll make sure you know how much he appreciates your protection, rub your back for hours just the way you like it while sleep fails. 

"You're welcome," he says. He has more to say but there's no more time to waste. There's still work to be done. 

It'll come easier with you at his side, he's sure. 

[heartfullofleeches]

What if darling orders from a different restaurant and brie coincidentally arrives right when the actual delivery person does? I feel like he'd be jealous af

Yan "Pizza Boy" + Reader

-

Who is that-

Arriving at your street, tires screech to a hault as your home rolls into view. The driver takes a second look. Then a third - knuckles white as fingers clench around the steering wheel.

A car he's never seen before sits in the little parking spot outside your house. His parking spot. Some old, beat up hatchback painted the ugliest shade of blue he'd ever seen - tape covering its left tail light and bumper held on by zip ties. By now, the delivery boy has made enough visits to your home to recognize cars of your friends and loved ones. Who is this? The flickering sign atop the rusting hunk of metal lifted some of the weight from his shoulders - only to crush him with a new fear as the other driver casual steps out of his vehicle, carrying bag strapped to his shoulder.

"Oh, hell no-"

Brie curses under his breath - pulling into your neighbor's driveway with one hand on the wheel as he reaches into the passenger seat with the other. He quickly gathers his things, kicking the driver's side door open as he goes to exit - hissing in frustration as his seat belt digs into the flesh of his neck. He unbuckles himself, shutting the door behind him with the heel of his sneaker as he races across your neighbor's yard. He slows down to carefully step over their hedges right as the other delivery person reaches your porch. Brie curses again-

"Oh my God! There's someone hiding in the back of that blue car with the dirty windows!"

The delivery person runs off back to their car. With little time to celebrate his victory, Brie marches up to your front door and rings the doorbell. You looked surprised - yet oddly happy to see him. His heart flutters.

"You?"

Brie beans from ear to ear "Yup! It's me! Got another pizza for you here. Same as the last."

"Thank you, but I already ordered from someplace else. Couldn't find anywhere nearby with alfredo sauce pizza so I had to settle for the usual."

You were looking for him?.... The place he works for that is. Brie shoves the box against your chest, biting down the scream ready to escape. "Don't worry, this one's on the house too. We're still experimenting with the recipe so it isn't available on our menu yet. I'm sure my boss will be happy to hear you enjoyed it."

"Well... Since it's free I guess it wouldn't hurt to take it off your hands. Won't have to order out for a week at this rate. Do you have a number I can reach you at?"

Multiple issues could arise from giving you his personal number - Brie was too excited to dwell on future problems when he had your attention now.

"Sure! Do you have a pen and paper?"

In the time it takes you to retrieve said items the other delivery person returns. He looks at Brie, a flicker of recognition in his eyes as he inspects his face.

"Hey... Aren't you-"

"Their boyfriend attacked a guy once."

The delivery driver looks taken aback. "What did you say?"

"I had a friend who worked at this one other pizza place. He had a black eye the last time we met. Said the person with the exact address had a scary looking boyfriend who thought he was flirting with them. He moved last we and I think I know why."

Brie's smile widen as the wobble in the other man's voice. "Hey, man... It's not cool to joke like that. If you're trying to scare me off you'll have to try harder than that."

"If that's what you want-"

Brie drops the conversation there. No point in wasting any more of his precious time - not with you standing there, pen and a small notepad in hand.

"Thank you~" Brie scribbles down his number, tearing off a page of paper beneath the one he wrote on as he hands the notepad back to you - pen still in his possession. With other matters to attend to, asking for it back was the last thing on your mind as you then turn to properly greet the other driver. Brie turns on his heels and makes his way down your driveway, checking over his shoulder as he drops the pen off the sidewalk - watching it roll by the rear bumper of the car.

"Whoops- Looks l dropped my pen."

Brie crotches down to grab the pen, eyes scanning the dented license plate as his fingers graze the pen. He picks it up, jotting down the license plate on the scrap of paper as he stands and walks off in the direction of his car.

One light broken is bad enough. He wonders how that other driver's boss would feel with all four smashed.

[maucira]

awfully petty

dandy x f!reader

cw: non-con, rough sex, size difference, unprotected sex, lots of tongue..

"Hey! I've got some goodies for sale~!"

"Spare a flower some tapes, will ya?"

"I've got some better items this time, I swear!"

The rainbow-petaled man's eye twitched in annoyance. Despite his countless efforts, always with a friendly demeanour, your group denied every offer. Dandy's seen them pick up tapes, collecting them throughout the toons' journey, so why won't they just buy something from his store? Poppy is on the brink of death yet she refuses to buy a bandage from his store.

Ah, that's right. You.

"Oh Poppy, you don't have to buy from him. We'll let you know once we've found a bandage, okay?" You said with a haughty tone to the blue toon. His brows furrowed subtly as he silently fumed. He hid his clenched fists behind his back as he watched you poorly attempt to hide the smirk that crept up on your face as you watched him lose his temper. Oh you little minx, why do you try to torment him so?

The group glanced over Dandy's items once more, his brain trying to grasp any sort of hope that lightly shone. "Don't make me angry." He spoke, irritation evident in his tone. His teeth grit together, surely they wouldn't refuse this time. He attempted to reassure himself in his mind, they wouldn't ignore him this time... Right?

Boxten's guilty smile said everything Dandy needed to know to immediately wipe all his hopeful thoughts away. "Uh... sorry, Dandy. Maybe next time?" He said in a softer tone. He took Poppy's hand and guided her away towards the large metal doors that led to their next round. Rodger and Goob were already facing the doors, the magnifying glass uninterested and the other messing around with his extended arms, but both waiting for the doors to open.

That only left one, the bitch who kept convincing the others to reject him. Your eyes turned up sharply, a patronising smile curling your lips. A barely audible snicker escaping you, just loud enough for the flower to hear. "Seems we're all good, Dandy." You said with a playful voice. He was sick of your annoying shenanigans, even before the tension that had formed between you two, you've always been like this. Always trying to piss him off, enjoying his reactions every time you'd get on his nerves.

"Be that way." He snapped, with barely contained anger. He pulled the lever and descended back down to where he stored his goods. You raised a finger to your lips, curling it to cover the smile that grew on your face. You loved to tease him, seeing his cute angry face as he stared at you with disdain. You hoped this time something interesting would happen.

-

Since the moment you stepped foot out the door, an uneasy feeling had made its way into you, settling in your stomach with every movement you took. You'd never admit it, but you were being extremely cautious this round. A soft tune played, the song that would play every time Dandy's shop opened, Clair de Lune. You wondered why it was playing. Had Dandy done something? A chill crept up your spine, making you shudder as you turned the wheel to pour ichor into the glass tube. It wasn't very ideal for the machine to be located in a remote corner, with the only way of noticing any twisteds being looking behind you.

With every drip of the black substance, time seemed to still further. It was uncomfortable being in a space with no way of escaping. Peeking behind your shoulder every so often, you tried your hardest not to miss any skill checks. Being attacked now would be terrible, actually, being attacked in general would be.

A relieved sigh escaped you as you completed the machine. You looked down at your watch, which showcased how many machines had been finished. "Three out of five complete... I should go check around to see if any others aren't being done." You muttered. Just as you were about to turn around, loud footsteps rumbled from behind you. They were heavy, loud, and seemed to belong to something much larger than any normal toon. Perhaps a new twisteds. God, you hoped whatever was coming for you wouldn't be painful with its attack. You whipped around, you knew something was about to turn the corner, who it was, was the question.

Your breath hitched, there was no escape, but luckily you still had two hearts left, so it should be alright. Right? A grimace came onto your face. Your heart hammered in your chest, but nothing could've prepared you for the shock that had encased you the moment you saw the giant twisted that stood before you.

A large grin was on the beast's- no, Dandy's face. His eyes glowed a beautiful red, and his petals once soft and rounded, now sharp and pointed. Fangs protruded out of his excited smile. In your opinion, it almost looked like a sneer. The short and petite flower you had tried to piss off just less than an hour ago, is now a large beast that towered more than twice your size. Your eyes travelled further downward, eyeing his knife-like colourful claws that threatened to tear into you at any second. He was horrifying.

The previously unbothered look on your face changed quickly, your brows furrowing and a quivering, small smile on your lips. It was always risky the game you played at, and you wouldn't give up so easily. Your body shook immensely as you stepped back slowly. "D-Dandy...?" You spoke, in a shallow tone with only remnants of the cocky demeanour you carried yourself with. The toon in question didn't respond, staying quiet as he placed another claw forward. The corner of his mouth seemed to grow the more he observed the terrified reaction you gave off. His grin unsettled you. As much as you'd like to doubt he'd hurt you, many of your other twisted friends wouldn't hesitate to harm you.

He stepped closer and closer, creeping until you were pressed right against the completed machine, and he, inches away from your face. You felt his hot breaths on his face as he stared you dead in the eyes. You instinctively attempted to shut your eyes when the heat of his breath hit you in the face, but a low growl resounded from him, making you open them again. "Dandy... come on, you didn't take what I was saying back there seriously, did you? I was only teasing..."

You slowly raised a hand, almost as if trying to calm a wild animal, but you knew the only one you were trying to calm was yourself. You placed a hand on his much larger face that stared down at you with a terrifying look. "Dandy..." You muttered as you observed his appearance once more. The tapes wrapped around his animal-like body, covered in the same sticky tar that you had poured into numerous machines.

His rainbow claws tapped the floor before dragging over to where you were. The sudden change made you pull your hand off of his face and bring it to your chest. "Dan... Dandy what're you doing?" You questioned, the meek smile slowly slipping off of your face as he brought his claws closer and closer to you. A distorted, gravelly growl that almost sounded like a mocking chuckle bellowed out as he grasped your torso with his hand.

You let out a quiet gasp as you felt his large hand encase your body. He brought his face closer to yours before a large, pointed tongue slipped out of his face. Your mind raced wildly, 'He's not going to kill me,' you thought, 'he's going to fucking eat me.' Tears welled up in your eyes, shutting them the closer he slowly closed the distance. Expecting to feel teeth crush your skull open, tears slipped down your cheeks. The thought of the sensation of your nerves on fire as teeth punctured your head, your brain being chewed up like a piece of steak made you want to vomit.

Instead of the horror you expected, the tongue slid up your cheek, licking away the tears before moving further across and beginning to lick your quivering lips. You opened your cloudy eyes in confusion, gasping once you realised he was trying to enter your mouth. You quickly regret it as his large tongue invades your mouth, barely able to fit it all in. It moved around wildly, shoving itself down your throat until you were gagging and choking on it. His saliva dripped down your chin, his much larger mouth producing way more than the average toon should.

You tried to yell out his name but only struggled coughing came out of you as he refused to leave your mouth. Your lack of air made you gasp as you choked on his tongue, but the heaving made you swallow more of his drool. You hacked violently as a disgusted look came onto your face. The corners of Dandy's mouth grew into a sinister grin as he pointed his claw to the top of your dress before a loud tearing sound was heard.

He finally removed his tongue from your mouth just as you thought you were about to faint from the lack of oxygen, but realising it now, that would've been far more merciful than to feel this creature defile you. You were shivering, and you couldn't tell if it was from the cold air or fear. Dandy had left you only your panties, the bra you were wearing torn off along with the dress. You hurriedly tried to cover your chest, but Dandy let out a warning growl as you did so, making you hesitantly lower your arms by your side.

"So that's it? You're going to rape me just because I joked around a little? Even I thought you were better than that, Dandicus." You scoffed. Dandy didn't respond, it seemed only growls could be made. He tilted his head, curiously or mockingly? You couldn't tell. His eyes drifted down to the floor for a second, before glancing back at you. You followed where his eyes went, only to see a large, large, red dick throbbing between his legs. It would take an idiot to not know he was aroused. He panted a giggle-like sound at your widened eyes. There was no fucking way that thing would fit inside you. You wanted to make that very clear.

"Dandy- Dandy, no. I'll- I'll fuck you after this floor if that's what you want. There's no way that thing will fit inside me! Do you even know how huge you are right now?" You said, stumbling over your words. No matter what you said, nothing was making him show a sign of stopping. That disturbing grin never left his face. His claw reached forward and tore off the last shred of dignity you had left. You tried to cover your lower body with your hands but he reached forward and grabbed your arms. He slammed your head onto the ground with a loud thud. He pulled you forward, leaning over you until the tip of his dick prodded at your hole. He rubbed the mushroom tip against your pussy, whines of disagreement leaving your throat as you begged that he didn't do it.

A shocked cry of pain came out of you as he rammed into you. Your gummy walls tightened around him instinctively as he buried himself to the hilt in you. He held your arms with one claw and used the other to spread your legs open. You screamed as he began to rut into you like a feral dog. He had no remorse as he harshly pounded in and out of you. An outline of his large bulge in your stomach was prominent as his pace was relentless. You thrashed under him, screaming and crying as blood dripped out of your pussy.

His dick was becoming coated in your slick, making it easier for him to violate you like a ragdoll. He panted heavily next to your ear as pleasure soon accompanied the pain, no matter how much you hated it. You let out wails, a mixture of pain and pleasure as he hammered himself straight into your core. It felt like he was splitting you open. You began to subconsciously rock against his dick, your body arching at his roughness.

Your cunt throbbed, painful goodness coursing throughout your every vein as you ground back onto him. You didn't want this, not at all, but your body couldn't resist its pleasure. The thickness of his shaft sliding in and out of you rapidly made your head spin, you felt faint as he continued to rock into you like there was no tomorrow. You could feel his dick hitting your womb with every thrust, making you cry out in pain. You let out whimpers as you began to constrict around him.

That sinister giggle of his sang out as he could feel you tighten around him. Your loud moans and grunts of pain soon accompanied his deep panting. You screamed out his name as you felt the coil in your stomach tighten and release on his dick that never stopped for a moment. The pain became more as he overstimulated your poor cunt.

You could feel the heavy slaps of his balls against your ass as his thrusts became faster and faster before he loudly snarled next to your ear. His claws scraped the wooden floor behind your head, splintering it as he released into you.

Large amounts of cum spilled out from him, it felt as if he was unloading bucket loads into you. He didn't stop until your pussy was dripping his cum out of you, then squirted the rest out onto your stomach. Besides the shallow pants, he was silent. He tilted his head at you, mockingly this time. Tears were cascading down your cheeks, you weren't sure you were going to be able to stay awake until the others finished the machines. Dandy picked up your shredded clothes and tossed them on top of you, what a gentleman. He stalked off, not giving you a final glance and began to run to a finished machine.

You sat up pathetically against the machine, sniffling and sobbing before bringing your knees up to your chest. You knew you had to get out of there, but you didn't want the others to see you in such a vulnerable state. You used your torn panties to wipe the excess cum off of you, a lot of it gushing out of you. You cried for a long moment, before trying to salvage what you could of your clothes, only your dress being somewhat useable if you patched it up. You slipped it on, a gaping tear straight down the middle. You tried to stand, but your legs gave out underneath you. Tears wouldn't stop falling as you began to crawl to a shelf that had a sewing kit, maybe the creators felt pity for you and decided to help you a little. You messily stitched your dress back up, leaning against the bookshelf before continuing to sob into your knees.

Just by your luck, Poppy had peeked around the corner, a worried expression on her face as she hurriedly rushed over to you. "What happened to you!? Okay, okay... ah shit. Can you stand? Here, let me help." She rambled out before pulling your arm over her shoulder and supporting your waist with her other hand. "I don't know what the hell happened to you, but Rodger's on the last machine. I'm getting you out of here, pronto!" She exclaimed, rushing you in front of the elevator and standing with you behind a few boxes.

"Thank you... Thank you, Poppy..." You heaved out through your cries, before poorly attempting to cradle her. "Hey? It's all good, I'm always here for you, y'know?" She said confused, but a smile appeared on her face as you hugged her. A ding rang out through the area, interrupting your moment with Poppy as she gasped and ran to the elevator with you, huffs of annoyance escaping you as you were pulled inside.

You could hear the heavy footsteps of Dandy as everyone rushed into the elevator. Luckily, no one had died, thanks to you being raped probably. You heard Goob and Poppy cheer, a relieved smile appearing on Boxten's face. You observed everyone, and thinking of it, you'd go through that hell again if it meant keeping your friends safe. You leaned your head against Poppy's shoulder, cheerful chatter in the air.

A ding was heard, and confusion silenced the toons before everyone looked at the shop that was rising into the elevator. Dandy's eyes were on you, a happy grin on his face as he giggled.

"Let's not make that happen again, shall we?"

One thought was in your head.

'I'm going to kill that fucker.'

[babywriter]

You were making yourself a sandwich when a beautiful woman wearing only a shirt and underwear came in. Strangely, her underwear consisted of a very thick purple diaper.

“Hum, excuse me?” you said. Not that you minded beautiful women walking into your house, but strangers are strangers.

“Yes?” she answered.

“Who are you?”

“What?”

“Who are you?” you said louder.

“I’m me?” She looked genuinely confused.

“What is your name?” perhaps she was a little slow.

“Jean?” She answered very slowly, as if you were the stupid one.

“Last name?”

“Billings?” You did know a Gene Billings, your roommate, but the thing with your roommate was that he was a man and this was a woman.

“He brought you home last night?” which confused you, because Gene hadn’t gone out last night.

“Who?”

“Gene.”

“I am Jean.” she said.

“Ok, this isn’t leading anywhere. What’s your real name? Where’s Gene?”

“There isn’t any other Jean, I am Jean! Why are you doing this?"

You had enough of this and went to Gene’s room, where he probably was anyway, or so you thought until you opened the door. Because this was definitely not Gene’s room. This was the room of a grown woman. 

“Ah, I get it. Trying some roleplay?” said Jean behind you. “It’s okay, I can do that.” And suddenly her hands were all over your chest. She pushed you towards her bed and unzipped your pants.

“I’m really sorry, mister. I just came in because I was thirsty.” she said.

“Hey, hey, what are you doing?” you said weakly so that she wouldn’t really hear you.

“Oh, mister, it’s so big!” Her every touch was electric. And when she put it in her mouth, your limbs couldn’t help but spasm immediately.

“Mmm.” She said with her mouth full. “Thank you, mister.” She swallowed. “I feel much better now.” She stood up while you were laying on the bed, panting. 

“I just love sucking.” she said while rummaging through her drawers. “It’s great. Bet you loved it too, uh?”

“Yeah.”

“So, now we’re just going to diaper you and get rid of that little manhood of yours and we’ll be done!”

“What?” But it was too late. By the time she said it, a thick white diaper was already getting taped to your bottom.

You felt the effects immediately. Your breasts, thighs and hair were growing while other things were most definitely disappearing. Like your chest hair. After about a minute, you forgot you ever were a man.

“Thanks for the change, Jean.” You said.

“No problem.”

“So, that guy you were talking about?”

“Daddy? Yeah, he said he’d be willing to let BOTH of us do it. We could even move in with him.”

“I don’t want to move in with a guy.” you said. “I’d rather stay single to get ALL the guys.”

“Fair point. Men sure do like girls in diapers, don’t they?"

Photo credit: @littlestkittenxx

For more stories by me:

[luvst4rc0r3]

“Slave”

Jinx x F!Reader

WARNINGS: Minor cursing, Angst, SELF HARM

WORD COUNT: 1607

NOTE: Reader has a grown up too fast. NOT PROOFREAD!!

PT.2

You loved your life. I was peaceful now. Compared to years before. You had Jinx, Isha, and your son, Micheal. Life is good now. You spent years of working 2 jobs to take care of your son and you “old family”

Since both of your parents were gone you had to step up as a parent even if you weren’t the oldest. You took care of every single one of your siblings. You cleaned the house, made food, and made sure you planned events accordingly. You were a mother. But you didn’t want to be. It was forced upon you.

Sure you would have not taken care of Micheal. Sure you could’ve not taken care of the rest of your siblings.

But if you didn’t then they would be helpless, and you were too kind to let them suffer with the loss of both of your parents.

You were happy for a while. But you had a breaking point. You were treated like a slave. You were expected to do everything. To keep everything together like tape. Even so…tape can break.

You were done but you knew you had to keep going on for your son. He was your life, your pride, the reason you’re still here.

You tried so hard to tape your’s and your son’s life but you just can’t. It was too much for you. All of the cooking, cleaning, scolding you had to do. And not even a thank you from anyone. You never heard a thank you from anyone you took care of. From your friends to your son, I mean how can you blame him when he was a baby, he eventually learned to say thank you, but even to your own flesh and blood. Your siblings never said ��thank you” just took you for granted. You got used to it. It hurt but what could you do?

Till you met Jinx. You are working for Silco. A debt collector. You collected debt from people and places. You also were a minor nurse. From all the experience as a “mother” you were the perfect fit.

Jinx had a fever and since it wasn’t a major injury, Silco put you on the job to take care of her. So you did, you never expected a thank you. I mean it was Zaun. People don’t have manners. All they know how to do is fight.

But Jinx. She always appreciated you even if it didn’t seem like she did. Since the moment you took care of her. She may have not said “thank you” but you knew you were appreciated. You were right?

She made it her goal to care for you like you cared for her fever. So every time you went out to settle a debt she was right behind you making sure you were never hurt. Even though you can take care of yourself she just wants to be sure.

That leads you to start dating. Micheal liked her. I mean what kid wouldn’t like an adult who built them cool stuff. Can when Jinx had Isha you would be at her hideout 25/8 now that she and Micheal were friends.

You liked this life. Sure it has some bumps. Like you untalked about trauma and her hallucinations. You still love her.

One night though was particularly bad.

You were playing with Isha and Micheal while was…um…doing whatever at her work station. You were worried for her. She hadn’t gotten any sleep recently, also not eating that much.

When Isha and Micheal were getting settled down for just playing cards with each other you decided to go over to Jinx making sure she was ok.

“Hey hun, I recently saw that you haven’t been getting sleep or eating well. Why not take a break? To take your mind off of everything.”

“No not right now, pretty. I'm working on something.” She doesn’t even glance at you; her full attention is on the device she is making.

“Jinx this is not healthy please. I’m begging you take a break” you plead with her

“Doll not right now” she says firmly.

“Jinx you have to-“ before you can finish you hear her yell

“OH MY GOD! Why can’t you mind your damn business for once in your life! You’re hovering over everything I do. Nagging me what to do and what not to do! You’re just useless. Just leave me alone.”

That made you stop in your tracks. Nagging? Hovering? Useless? Jinx never said these words to you. It reminds you of how your siblings treated you. Like trash.

“Fine…” you started, “Micheal we are leaving,” you said firmly. Isha was immediately against the idea, shaking her head no and so was Michael.

“Just let the kid stay the damn night. You don’t have to dictate the kid’s life along with mine” Jinx stated coldly.

…

“Fine”

With that you turned around and left.

Your arrival to your apartment didn’t take that long. But the weight of everything came crashing down the second you shut the door. You came crashing down, sobbing.

You were sick. Sick of everyone treating you like you were too insignificant to waste their breath on. Sick of everyone taking you for granted.

You were just sobbing on the ground. Too tired to get up, too tired for anything. You eventually get up not to sleep, not go to the bathroom, you just grabbed a knife and alcohol then plopped yourself on the couch. You returned to your old habits. Of self harm and booze. You didn’t count how many times that knife went over your wrist and ankles. Too many to count.

You eventually pass out.

When you wake up you go to get Micheal but when you get there he begs (and Isha too) you to let her stay for multiple days since she has done it before. You were too tired to care that you said yes on 2 conditions. You go to the hideout once a day to make sure they were fine and that you would make the meals that they could eat because you doubt that Jinx gave them good food to eat. They agree and hug you before you turn and leave.

The next 2 weeks were spent in this order:

wake up with a hangover and lose of blood

Go over to Jinx’s hideout to make sure Micheal and Isha were alive, then give them food.

Go to work

Go to the bar to drink.

Go to a convenience store to get more alcohol and food for the kids.

Come home

drink and self harm till you pass.

That was your routine for a whole 2 weeks. Never breaking the schedule. You didn’t care anymore. You were too tired.

Since you were too tired you didn’t realize 2 kids were following you. They watched your routine for a couple days seeing that you were done with life and had no hope. They felt bad.

Jinx on the other hand. It looked like she was doing fine but inside she was slowly dying. The voices got to her but she ignored them while working. She never wanted to admit it, she missed you. Missed how you tell her to take care of herself, she missed your voice, your scent, your touch. Her ego was too big for her to admit it though.

Her routine for those 2 weeks were:

wake up

maybe eat something

make sure the 2 kids were alive

start working

Work until she crashed

Eventually the 2 kids realize that nothing would change unless they did anything.

So they convinced Jinx to apologize to you when you came over.

When you came over the next day they dragged you inside where Jinx was looking at her waiting.

she sighs when she sees you then turns to her work while talking “I’m sorry for the way I treated you a couple weeks ago” it sounded so half assed. Like it was written out for her. Wait.

You noticed a paper right next to her. In the children's handwriting it wrote exactly what she said. You were beyond pissed

Your lover didn’t even want to look at you while she talked from a script. You were too insignificant for her.

Everything you had been taping up for the past 2 weeks broke.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Now that got her attention.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you dumb? The the actual fuck is wrong with you?!” You yelled not letting her speak.

“You're not even looking at me while you talk from a script that you didn’t even make!”

“So? It's not like you do anything except nag.” She stated, not really caring.

“So? Did you just say so? I don’t do anything?” You were so stunned.

“I work day and night to take care of not only the kids but your ass too!” You continue yelling, “I work so hard to make sure we are fine financially. Not only that I put food on the table, comfort you when you are having a panic attack, take care of the kids when you don't want to, I make sure they eat, sleep, and breathe. I even make sure you eat, sleep, and breathe too!” “You don’t have to do that” “if I don’t do that then who will?! Certainly not you. You can’t even get up to wash your hair some days. You make me do it. Who would take care of the kids?! Not you. You can’t even provide them a decent meal! You can’t even afford one.”

She was stunned. She hates how she knew you were right. How the only reason she is alive is because you have taken care of her. She never even thanked you.

“So I’m sorry…” you started crying, “if I nag and dictate your life. If you don’t want me in it then fine.”

For once you put yourself first. You took Micheal’s hand and walked out, never turning back. You didn’t know if you were even going to get back with Jinx again.

HEYY!!! Guys I wrote this while I was pissed at my brother so idk if I want to read this. BUTTTT if YALL want a pt2 I can do it (I’ll probably do it either way)

But ya.

I want food

[unfinishedslurs]

party king (steddie)

“You want me to what?”

“Go to a party with me,” Eddie says, looking at Steve like he’s the weirdo here. “What’s the big deal, King Steve? You’ve been to plenty of parties.”

“You know, no one actually called me that,” Steve tells him, abandoning his tapes to put his hands on his hips. “Billy started it. I think he just wanted people to call him a king.”

Eddie visibly considers this before nodding, like it makes sense. Which it does. Billy was, in Steve’s private thoughts, an egotistical maniac who needed to calm down.

May he rest in peace.

“But you’ll come to the party with me, right?”

“Give it up, Eddie,” Robin calls from where she’s rewinding tapes. “Steve hasn’t been to a party in forever. He’s basically a grandpa now.”

“Hey!” Steve objects. That’s rich, coming from her. Going to bed at nine some nights so he gets a few more hours of sleep before waking up in a cold sweat does not make him a grandpa. It just makes him traumatized  

“Steeeeeeeve,” Eddie whines, widening his eyes until it looks like they’re going to pop out of his sockets. His exaggerated pout isn't going to do him any favors either. No matter what the kids say behind his back (looking at you, Henderson) he isn't a pushover.

“Why would I want to go to a high school party?” He crosses his arms, leaning against the counter. “I graduated. I have better things to do with my time.”

“Like lose arcade games to freshmen?” Robin asks. He flips her the bird.

“Please, Steve?” Eddie asks. “Pretty please? Pretty pretty please, with cherries and whipped cream and six little nuggets on top?”

“What the hell are you even saying anymore?”

“You want him to eat his babies?” Robin shrieks. “Like Kronos? Is one of them going to cut off his head and free the rest?”

Eddie’s eyes light up, and Steve slaps a hand over his mouth. He doesn’t know who that guy is, and he doesn’t want to deal with the two of them chattering over whatever movie villain he’s assuming is in their weird cult classic films when he still doesn’t know why Eddie is asking him to this party.

He doesn’t even flinch when Eddie licks his hand.

“I’ve been slobbered on by actual monsters,” he says flatly. “Your spit has zero effect on me.”

Eddie bats his eyes and gives his palm a kiss, right where he’d laved his tongue. Steve rolls his eyes and wipes his hand on the side of Eddie’s face.

“Hey!”

“Don’t dish what you can’t take,” Steve says. “Now, why exactly am I getting asked to go to a high school party?”

“Jessica Roberts needs some kush, and she asked me to sell there.”

“Okay? Still not answering my question.”

“There’s gonna be jocks at the party,” Eddie finally confesses, “and I don’t know if they’ll try shit. But given my track record lately…”

“So you need a bodyguard?”

“Hey!” Steve shouts, and is summarily ignored by everyone. So he does what any normal person would do, and slams an abandoned beer bottle against the edge of the counter so it shatters. 

The jocks turn and look at him after that.

Steve glances down at the jagged edges of the bottle in his hands, flipping it like it’s his old ice cream scoop. Yeah, this should work. 

“Leave him alone,” he says, steely inflection to his voice. 

“Or what, Harrington?” One of them asks. “Heard you just been sittin’ in this room all night. What, you hanging around the queers now? Didn’t take you for a f-”

He stops talking when Steve grabs him by the hair and presses the broken bottle against his throat.

“Here’s what's gonna happen,” he says quietly, taking a look at his buddy. He’s let go of Eddie, a lot more spooked now that his friend is shaking in his Nike’s. “You’re going to leave this room. You’re going to leave Munson here alone. You’re not going to bother him, or anyone else in his dragon club ever again. If I hear that you or your little friends are fucking with him, I have a very nice nail-studded baseball bat in my trunk I’d be more than happy to introduce you to. Capisce?”

“Woah, woah, woah,” the guy that was holding Eddie says. “What the hell, Harrington?”

Steve doesn’t break eye contact with the guy he’s threatening. “Capisce?” He asks again, putting a little more force into the word.

“C-capisce.”

“Good,” he says, shoving him away. “Now get outta here.”

They scramble away. Steve walks over to the trash can and throws away the remains of the bottle, running a hand through his hair. He finally turns around to see Eddie staring at him with wide eyes, frozen.

“Sorry-”

“Fuck me.”

“What?”

Eddie’s entire face flushes, like he didn’t mean to say that. “Uh.”

Steve looks at him, and then around the kitchen they’re in. Glass and beer on the floor, music blasting loud enough to set him on edge, a crowd of people that look at him like a zoo exhibit. Fuck, his head hurts. 

“Yeah, okay,” he decides. “We’re going to mine, though.”

“Wh-what?” Eddie looks like a deer in headlights, even though Steve’s offering exactly what he asked. 

“I…have no idea what I’m doing,” Eddie confesses. 

“Oh, are you not…” He trails off, gesturing towards Eddie’s back pocket. “I assumed…”

Eddie laughs abruptly, slapping a hand over his mouth like he startled himself with it. “You know hanky code, Harrington?”

“Can you call me Steve when you’re in my bed?” He’s already got his shirt off, for God’s sake. “Listen, man, if you don’t want this, it’s no biggie.” He starts to get off, and Eddie’s hand clamps over his thigh. 

“No, no, no, don’t you dare. Just gimme a minute, I’m processing.”

“Processing,” he repeats flatly. 

“Yes, processing. I’ve got the guy of my extremely virginal wet dreams shirtless on top of me. I did not think this would ever happen. I didn’t even know you were queer until tonight.”

Steve’s mouth shapes into an “o” of understanding. “You’re a virgin?”

“Jesus, could you focus on anything else I said?”

“You dream about me?”

“Let’s go back to the virgin part.” His fingers start nervously tapping against Steve’s leg. 

“You’re not subtle,” Steve says flatly. “I know when you stare at my ass.”

Eddie colors in a flood of bright red. “What if I wasn’t? What if I was…uh, jealous or something?”

“I guess that’d make sense, since you’re flat as a board.”

“Wh—hey!”

[dreamwatch]

Part 1 Part 2 AO3

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest Black Friday pop-up event.

Prompts: Black, Friday, "I'm not standing in line for that", Leftovers, Trampled, One Day Only, "I am giving thanks."

Yeah... all of them, and you're right, it was a stupid idea.

Word Count: Pt3 - 4954 | Rating: M | CW: Past suicidal ideation (very subtle, blink and you'll miss, I'm just being cautious) | POV: Mixed - Pt1 Eddie, Pt2 Steve, Pt3 Eddie | Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson | Tags: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Gareth CC, Jeff CC, Matt CC, Wayne Munson, disabled Eddie Munson, pining, protective Gareth, protective Steve, kissing, guitars, reference to canon typical injuries, references to blood and injury - please let me know if you think I've missed any.

Part 3

For the first time in years they get lucky; Wayne gets Christmas off. He says it’s because he worked Thanksgiving, but Eddie overheard phone calls that maybe he shouldn’t have been listening to, and he has a suspicion it’s more to do with the fact that for a while there Wayne was facing all his future Christmas’s alone and this one’s kind of special.

They’re watching the TV, eating too much, and sipping on beers. It’s normal. Just regular Christmas Eve in the Munson home, but the weight of it, the what ifs, hang in the air. It’s not oppressive, or sad, it’s just … there. It should be a sign, probably, that he and Wayne need to have a good talk, maybe work through a few things. But Wayne isn’t a talker, doesn’t understand why anyone would go to a shrink, he buries his shit deep. When Eddie thinks of his father, he was much the same. It probably shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone, then, that Eddie likes to keep things locked away, hidden from public view.

He sips on his beer and he eats his cookies, and he smiles at Wayne and Wayne smiles back. They know what they have. It’s enough.

They don’t get visitors often and he can’t think of a single Christmas where they’ve had one that wasn’t a cop, so when they hear the knock at the door they both look at each other like deer in the headlights. The bad knocks, the ones that end up with shit on the doorstep, or notes on the door telling him to move away if he knows what’s good for him, they don’t come as often as they used to. The last one was around Halloween, which in some regards he kind of expected; every town has a boogeyman and sadly he’s it for Hawkins. They keep a baseball bat behind the door where most people store their umbrellas. 

Wayne answers the door, fist twitching, but then Steve is wandering into his home, flakes of snow on his eyelashes and in his hair. 

“Hey sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you, I just wanted to give you these.”

He hands over two badly wrapped gifts, something bottle shaped for Wayne who seems a little shellshocked at getting anything, and a small navy blue package for Eddie, with way too much tape holding it together. And he knows gifts aren’t a quid pro quo kind of situation, but he’s honestly been back to back with appointments and just life in general, and he doesn’t get out as much as he would like, seeing as he still can’t drive, so his heart sinks a little at it.

“Shit, I didn’t— sorry, I was just so caught up—”

“It’s nothing. Honestly, it’s just something I saw that reminded me of you.” 

His voice peters out as he says it, and Eddie feels that little kick, the little squeeze in his core, but he just can’t help it. Reminded me of you. Like he’s important enough for Steve to think about. And isn’t that something?

Reminded me of you.

It’s a little fan, breathing life onto a flame that he just can’t afford to have lit any further. Tamping it down is getting harder and harder.

They talk for a few minutes, but it doesn’t matter how many cookies or beers or sodas Wayne offers him, he declines them all with a sorry, got to get back. He gets up to leave and Eddie walks him to the door.

“What are you doing on Friday?” Steve asks.

“Hmm, I’ll have to check with my secretary, my diary gets booked up so far in advance these days.”

“He ain’t doin’ nothin��!” Wayne shouts. “And close the goddamn door, you’re letting all the heat out.”

“Jesus Christ, old man, keep it down. No fucking privacy here. Well, as you heard, I ain’t doin’ nothin’ apparently.”

It’s a pretty accurate impression, which he knows Wayne heard and he’ll be paying for that for a while. But he made Steve laugh, so it’s entirely worth it.

“Cool. I’ll pick you up at four, be dressed and ready to go.” Steve hops down the porch steps back to the car. 

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll find out on Friday. Get inside before you freeze to death, Munson. Merry Christmas!”

“I’m going, I’m going, why is everyone such a nag? Merry Christmas, Steve!”

He should wait until tomorrow, but the little blue package in his hand feels like it’s burning him. He sits on his bed and tries his best to peel each piece of tape carefully, but the fucking thing is covered in it so he ends up ripping the paper off anyway. 

The guitar strap is neatly folded, blue embroidery singing against the black leather. Guitar picks slip onto the floor at his feet. 

His breath falters, trapped in his throat, and it’s several long seconds before he takes a deep breath again.

His guitars were some of the only things saved from the old trailer. Wayne told him how lucky he was to be at the back, how most of his precious possessions survived. He even hung the Warlock on the wall of his new bedroom. It felt like he was being watched, like an eye following him around the room. It felt like a living thing in a way that scared him. 

And it wasn’t just the thing of it, the object that got carried into battle - even if that one was a version from another world - it was the way it sounded in his hands now. He tried to play it just once, and once was enough to know it would never happen again. The shake in his hand was frightening, the lack of control, the dissonant noises that rang from it. He chalked it up to some weird phobia, a reaction to what the guitar meant now. But then he picked up his old Fender knock off and it wasn’t any better, and it hit him that it was gone, everything he had practiced, everything he worked for, it was gone just like that. Now he had a shaky left hand and no grip strength and moving his fingers along the fretboard was an effort not an instinct.

It was over. And he never wanted to see that fucking guitar again.

But now he’s sitting here with a beautiful guitar strap in his lap and guitar picks all over the floor, things that Steve chose for him, because they reminded me of you, and it’s painful in a different way, in a way that he can’t examine right now because he just doesn’t have the strength for it in the middle of a Christmas he was never meant to see. He wraps them both back up in the crumpled blue paper and puts them in the bottom drawer of his dresser, pulling a pair of sweats over the top.

Christmas is… emotional. But like in that quiet ‘we’re not gonna talk about it’ way that he and Wayne have perfected over the years. There are pats on the head, hair ruffles, side ways glances when Wayne thinks he’s not looking. Weighty, but not unpleasant. It’s a lot to know you’re loved so deeply, a lot to know how difficult this would have been for Wayne if Eddie hadn’t been here.

(There’s things about that day, about the decisions he made, that he tries to keep hidden from everyone, himself included when he can manage it. They haunt him at night when he’s alone in the house by himself and has time to dwell on them, but when Wayne rests a calloused hand on his head, it’s almost like forgiveness. He hopes Wayne doesn’t know. He hopes none of them know.)

When Friday swings around he feels entirely too much like a kid in a candy store, and if Wayne notices his slightly hyper demeanour when Steve pulls up outside, he at least has the grace not to mention it. 

Steve doesn’t open the car door for him. Anyone looking on, watching Eddie potter down his steps unevenly, crutch in hand, would read that as rude. Eddie reads it as trust, as being listened to, and most importantly being heard. Other people struggled with that, so many of his friends, fuck, even Wayne, wanting to step in whenever they thought he needed a hand, but never really hearing him when he said he was fine. And look, he’s a stubborn fuck, he knows this, and he hasn’t made this easy on people, he could have - should have - asked for help at times, but having one person in his corner that listened to him made him feel less powerless. That it was Steve made his heart sing.

Steve still won’t tell him where he’s going, so they do what they usually do, argue over the radio while Eddie tosses tapes around in the glove compartment. Eddie doesn’t get out often, mostly of his own choosing, so these moments mean a lot to him. Painfully normal. 

Painfully normal with Steve by his side.

He starts to nod off to the sound of Cyndi Lauper coming through the speakers, but he catches sight of the sign to Indy and it wakes him up with a start. He glances at Steve who definitely knows he’s being stared at because the little smirk on his face grows. Something in Eddie grows with it.

Twenty minutes later they’re pulling up outside Sandy’s.

“Holy shit,” he says, almost under his breath. “I haven’t been here since… fuck, last year I think? How did you find this place?”

Steve unbuckles his seat belt, that smirk firmly still  in place. “Friend of a friend.”

And then, because Eddie’s world hasn’t spun out from beneath him enough this year —

Steve Harrington winks at him.

And it’s not a wink like, sports and jocks and rough-housing with the kids wink, it’s a wink. It’s loaded. It takes up space in the car. It passes between them, a little bird Steve set off into the air for Eddie to catch with careful hands.

He doesn’t know what’s happening, but it feels like it will collapse around him if he asks, his little tower of cards that just got to the second level will flutter to the ground. So he laughs it off, calls him a dork and then gets out of the car.

They take a booth at the back, sliding in, face to face. 

“Have you eaten here before?” Eddie asks.

“Just the once.” And there’s that smile again, and that little thing in him that keeps so deeply hidden continues to unfurl.

The waitress approaches to take their order, and Steve gets in before Eddie can.

“Two chilli dogs with extra onions, two sides of cheese fries, and two peanut butter malts, please.”

He didn’t even look at the menu.

The moment she walks away, Eddie leans forward.

“How do you know my order?” He’s a little rude with it, though he doesn’t mean to be, and for the first time Steve looks unsure.

“I told you, a friend of a friend.”

“Gareth. You can say Gareth, Steve. I’m not stupid.”

Steve picks up the salt shaker, rolling it idly between his hands. “I just wanted to do something nice, for Christmas, you know? Is that so bad?”

“You did something nice for Thanksgiving.”

“Uh, no, I tried to do something nice. Consider this a do-over.”

Eddie does his best, tries not to read too much into the fact that Steve knew his order, or that he asked Gareth for help, or that he ordered the same thing, or that he spends the entire time practically moaning as he slots the hotdog into his mouth in a way that honestly looks filthy as fuck, but he can’t possibly know what he’s doing, or what he’s doing to Eddie specifically.

He does his best. But a boy can dream. 

Steve pays, which just makes it all so much worse. Is this how they feel? All those girls from Hawkins High? Is this what it means to be wooed by the Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington?

They get back to the car, and Steve starts her up, the cool air from the vents turning warmer as they sit there. 

“That was… that was really cool, actually.” 

“Yeah, those hot dogs were awesome. Seriously we need a place like that in Hawkins.”

Eddie shakes his head. “No I mean… you bringing me here. It’s my favourite place to eat. It was a really nice thing to do. Thank you.”

Steve looks delighted. “Good, I’m glad you liked it. And hey, it wasn’t burnt this time, right?” 

Steve laughs and Eddie tries to but he can’t, is the thing. It’s all kind of caught up in him, like a tangle. He’s confused, and warm, and happy and a little sad, actually. He surrounds himself with things he wants and can’t have. Sometimes he can live with that, but sometimes it hurts.

“Thank you. Like, honestly,” and he let’s a puff of air out of him, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. Blowing the sting from them. “I haven’t been there since my birthday last year. It was kind of a tradition, you know? I didn’t get to go this year, so… yeah, thanks.” And he means it. Truly and honestly means it.

Steve taps the steering room, out of rhythm to the song on the radio, a nervous little tick Eddie’s noticed before.

“So, there’s one more thing. Uh, one more place I want to take you. If that’s okay?”

He looks so earnestly at Eddie, like he’s honestly scared Eddie will say no to him when right now Eddie doesn’t think he would deny him a fucking thing.

“Yeah, of course. Lead the way, sire.”

They don’t drive far, but they move into the suburbs on the other side of town and into a little neighbourhood Eddie recognises, before pulling up somewhere Eddie knows very well indeed. 

Wayne was the first one to bring him to Rudy’s Music Shop back on his twelfth birthday, when he got that old Fender knock-off from Gary at the plant. It needed strings, and it buzzed like crazy and Rudy’s was cheaper than the big store in the middle of the city, so they visited and Rudy fixed it up for him, almost as good as new. And when he was finally ready for his first serious guitar, something metal that he would take the world by storm with, it was Rudy’s that he went to. He couldn’t afford a lot, but the Warlock was a trade in, barely used but with a couple of big chips in the paintwork. Rudy cut him a deal, and Eddie spent three bucks on red nail polish and you could never tell they were there unless you knew where to look.

“Steve… ?”

“I um… Wayne told me about this place. I thought it would be nice to visit. It’s been a while, huh?”

“Yeah,” Eddie whispers.

Steve taps him across the chest. “Come on.”

This time he does let Steve help him out of the car, the long journey and the cold starting to wear him down. They walk over to the window, the red neon sign glowing bright into the dark street, the guitars stand like soldiers under it, and he feels the pang of want. It feels like the twist of a knife.

“You wanna go in?”

Eddie’s not sure where it comes from. But something in him stirs, something that feels like bravery, and he finds himself wanting just that. But…

“It’s closed,” he says, trying his best to keep the disappointment from his voice. “But thanks for bringing me here, it was a really lovely thought, you know.” 

Steve walks right past him to the door and knocks three times, and in a moment Rudy is there, unlocking the door and ushering them in.

“It’s good to see you, kid,” says Rudy.

“Uh— shit.” He starts laughing, it bubbles up from nowhere and he feels a little delirious with it. “It’s good to see you too. Sorry, it’s just a lot, being here.” He gestures around the store at the walls of instruments.

Rudy laughs softly, “Yeah, I bet.” Then he looks at Steve and says “You got half an hour then I got to lock up. You want the, uh—” he gestures over his shoulder with his thumb.

“Uh, give us ten minutes?”

Rudy nods before heading out back, pulling the office door closed behind him. Then it’s just them, and Eddie’s head is spinning like a fucking top.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“Promise not to get mad?”

Eddie’s eyes narrow. “Why would I get mad?”

“I thought maybe it was time to get that new guitar.”

Eddie tips his head back, looking up at the ceiling painted with famous musicians. He stares B.B. King straight in the eye. B.B. Stares right back at him.

“Steve, I just… I can’t.” He blows out a huge puff of air, and it feels like he’s emptying his heart as much as he’s emptying his lungs.

“I know you sold the Warlock. And I get why.”

“No, you don’t!”

“Okay, so explain it to me.”

“I don’t want to have this conversation.”

“You can’t run from everything, man.”

It’s like a slap and Eddie turns on him. “Oh fuck you!”

All of it’s falling to shit, all the good, summer, the trips to the drive through, the summer spent in the Harrington’s pool. Cold nights tucked up against each other watching horror movies. A burnt Thanksgiving dinner. 

A guitar strap.

Steve reaches out to him, squeezing his wrist. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just. You’re so fucking talented, Eddie, and I hate that you lost the thing you loved the most. You deserve better than that.”

Eddie scoffs. “How do you know I was talented? You’ve never heard me play.”

Steve smiles softly and digs into the pocket of his coat, pulling out a cassette before waving it gently in the air. 

“Borrowed it from Wayne. Blues, huh?” And there’s that smirk again, like he’s won something, and fuck it. He has.

“Fucker.”

“Me or Wayne?”

“Both of you.”

There’s a pause, Steve opening and closing his mouth like he's working out what to say next.

“Why did you lie? Why did you sell it?”

It’s not an accusation, just an honest question. If it were anyone else Eddie would fob them off. But it’s Steve, and he deserves so much more than that.

“Because it wasn’t the same, Steve. I couldn’t look at that fucking guitar, I didn’t want it anywhere near me, man. It just didn’t sound the same anymore. I didn’t sound the same. And it just reminded me of everything, every time I looked at it, Chrissy, and Patrick, and the bats--” He heaves in a breath. “Do you know what it’s like when your dreams are stolen? For them to just disappear overnight?”

Steve’s eyes drop to the floor, but he replies with a nod.

“I had a basketball scholarship lined up. Until Billy smashed a plate into my head, anyway. It’s not the same, I know, but I do get it.”

Billy was a bastard, and Eddie never liked him, and it’s awful but all he can think right at this moment is that he’s glad he’s dead.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that,” he says softly.

Steve shrugs. “Shit happens. It’s what you do after that matters. Come on,” Steve takes him by the hand, locking their fingers together, and Eddie’s breath slams to a stop as Steve leads him to a stool and amp. “Rudy said you can play whatever you want. Just point and I’ll grab them. But there is one, I kind of put aside for you. If you want to try it?”

Alternate dimensions haven’t got a thing on what ever the fuck is going on here today. He barely nods before Steve runs off like an excited puppy. He returns a moment later, carefully holding a guitar. 

“So, I know this isn't like, metal, or whatever. But Rudy said it’s got a really nice tone? And it’s a lot lighter than your Warlock, so I thought… “ He coughs, suddenly sounds embarrassed, “I just thought it would be easier for you.”

He recognises it immediately; a Gibson ES-335. But not sunburst or cherry red, like everyone knows it for, but in a washed out sky blue. It’s scratched, the paintwork chipped in places, but it’s clean and otherwise clearly well looked after.

“It’s beautiful.”

Steve’s eyes light up. “Yeah?”

Tentatively, Eddie reaches out for it and Steve hands it over almost reverently. It is lighter than the Warlock, though it’s bigger. But the rounded cut outs make it fit him better, it rests comfortably on his thigh. He runs his fingers up the neck, feels the comforting grab of the frets under his finger. The loss of it all hits him so suddenly he feels himself fall back, like a gust of wind carrying his grief slammed into him. 

“Yeah,” he manages to say, but his throat is closed tight and theres no way Steve doesn’t hear it. 

Steve kneels in front of him, places his hands on Eddie’s knees and a spark fires through him.

“Play me something.”

“What?”

Steve beams at him. “Anything you want.”

He feels a tear slip over his lashes, and he watches as Steve traces it down his cheek, wiping it away before it falls from his chin.

“No tears on the guitar,” Steve whispers. “Not good for the paint.”

“Fucker,” Eddie laughs wetly. “Plug me in.”

Steve sets him up, with a little direction, then sits on the floor in front of him, legs crossed, like a toddler at story time, his attention undivided.

It’s rough, the first chords are chunky and stilted, he doesn’t have the strength or the dexterity that he once had, certainly not the speed. But as his hands warm up, as he falls into it, the rhythm, the vibration of the strings under his fingers, the callouses softened from all these months without steel underneath them. His eyes slip closed and he plays by feel again, and without thinking he starts striking chords, the D, into the F sharp, G into the A. He smiles to himself, before opening his eyes, and he and Steve lock eyes, sitting in the dark in Rudy’s, just the neon red lighting them up. 

You’re the one I’ve waited for

He sings it openly, part challenge, part declaration. 

I need your love more and more

His breath is knocked from him as Steve rushes forward, hands on Eddie’s cheeks pulling him in, his lips pressed deeply into Eddie’s. Eddie grips the guitar in one hand, covering Steve’s hand with the other, holding it there. When the shock passes, he kisses back just as fiercely, lips finding one another in the red glow.

Steve breaks apart first, breathless with giggles before leaning in for another quick peck. And then another. And then he takes the guitar from Eddie, gently places it on a stand before standing in between his legs, his hands on Eddie’s face, tipping him back, before leaning down to kiss him again, slower this time, more softly.

“I’ve thought about this for so fucking long.”

A sound escapes Eddie, air rushing out after a punch to the solar plexus, to a place deep within him.

“You have no idea, man,” is all Eddie can manage in response.

There’s a cough from behind them and they split apart as fast as they came together.

“So, uh, we taking that guitar, boys?”

“Yes,” answers Steve, at the same time Eddie says “I don’t know.”

“Do you like the guitar?” Steve asks.

“I love it.”

“Good. Then we’re taking it.”

Rudy carefully places it into a case and hands it over before letting them out onto the street, and wishing Eddie well.

“But I haven’t paid—”

“He’s all paid for kid. All yours.”

Eddie is dazed when he makes it back to the car. He looks at the little store front in the dark, the neon fighting the orange glow of the street lamps for the honour of lighting the sidewalk. It was a minute ago but it seems like a dream already, like a spell was broken the moment they walked back onto the street, and he’s not sure it happened. It’s too ridiculous to imagine that it happened.

Steve climbs in beside him, looking every bit the King of Hawkins High, smug bastard.

“What just happened?” Eddie says to no one.

He catches movement beside him, Steve pushing his fingers through his hair, checking himself out in the rearview mirror before repositioning it.

“Well, I took you to dinner, then I brought you to your favourite guitar store, bought you a beautiful guitar and basically took you out on the best date you’ve ever had.”

Eddie nods absently. “Oh, is that what happened?”

Steve looks like he’s actually thinking about. “Yeah, pretty much,” and he winks again, like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing to Eddie now. 

They drive back to Hawkins, Steve stretching his hand out to hold Eddie’s every time they come to a stop light, Eddie squeezing it tightly like it might disappear, like it might be the last time he gets the chance.

They pull up outside Eddie’s little house, just as snow starts to flutter to the ground again. Steve leaves the car running, the heat blowing out onto their faces. Eddie feels a little flushed. He’s not entirely sure its the heater though.

“So…” he starts.

Steve throws his arm across the back of Eddie’s seat. “So.”

“Did that really happen? Because, I was dead for about five minutes back in March and they said there could be lasting consequences from the oxygen deprivation and—”

Steve shuts him up with a kiss and not for the first time Eddie’s pleased they moved to a private little house where they can’t be seen from the street.

“Firstly,” Steve says when he let’s go, “Don’t ever joke about that.” Steve’s cradles his jaw, thumb stroking at the raised pink of the scar that sits there. “But yes, it happened. All of it. Maybe I was a little slow off the blocks. Let’s just give thanks for me getting there sooner rather than later, huh?”

Eddie can’t help the bubble of laughter. “Oh, I am giving thanks, trust me, big boy.”

Steve’s eyes narrow as he leans in for another kiss.

“Oh we are totally circling back to that,” Eddie says gleefully.

“Shut up.”

They lean in again, and this time he wraps his arms around Steve’s neck, pulling him close, his lips parting ready to kiss, until a loud knock knock knock on the window has them flying apart.

Wayne peers in at the two of them as Eddie rolls the window down.

“Jesus Christ! You scared the shit out of us.”

“This strikes me as something you might want to do inside.”

Steve combs his hands through his hair, nodding. “Yep, absolutely. We will definitely do that.”

“Not tonight though,” Wayne adds, and honestly, Eddie loves this guy, he does, but fuck does he pick his moments to get parental. “Goodnight Steve.” And then, because Eddie’s suffering is his greatest pleasure, he smirks and says. “Hope it all went well.”

“Would you just leave, please, now. Thank you.”

They both watch Wayne walk back up the porch steps, a sly smile on his face.

“Fucker.” Eddie sighs into one more kiss, Steve meeting him across the console. “I should go.”

Steve hops out to grab the guitar - his guitar, and that’s going to take a while to get his head around - and carries it up to the porch for him.

“Call you tomorrow?” 

“Please,” Eddie says, feeling for all the world like a fucking schoolgirl with a crush. So, this is what it’s like?

Steve gives him that stupid little wave and smiles at him, but as he’s about to get in the car he calls back.

“Hey, what was that song you were singing?”

Eddie laughs. 

“Oh, uh, Love Hungry Man. AC/DC.”

“Holy shit,” Steve laughs. “Don’t hold back, Munson.”

He shrugs, delighted. “What can I say? Speak your truth, right?”

Eddie stands in the cold as he watches Steve drive off into the night. Flakes of snow begin to fall again, shimmering in the amber street lighting. He sticks his tongue out to catch them. He feels giddy, kind of light headed and for a second he thinks he’s over done it today, he should get in, get his pills and sleep. 

It takes a moment for it all to filter through, for his brain and his body to catch up with one another, but eventually it hits him; he’s happy. He’s never let himself want before, not big things, not things he can’t buy. He’s spent years hiding big parts of who he is, even from his closest friends, with only the dream of moving to a city to give him real hope for a connection with someone. For love.

And then Steve Harrington, brave, smart, wonderful Steve Harrington, knocks the wind right out of him, turns his world upside down, the good kind this time, and now not only does Eddie get to want, he gets to have. 

He sticks his tongue out again to catch a last, fat flake of snow, and then carries his guitar inside. 

He has a lot of practicing to do.

****

Holy shit. Full disclosure, I wrote most of this today and I'm sleep deprived and I can't bear to think how many typos and errors there are in this, but I'm trying to hit a deadline. Feel free to let me know what I fucked up. 😂

[ddejavvu]

Steve telling robin about this girl who he’s spoken to a few times and reallly wants to ask out and she’s a big hype man for his love quest. But then he comes in one day to see robin very innocently flirting with you bc she doesn’t know you’re the girl Steve’s talking about. So queue shenanigans of him trying to get robin away in anyway that won’t make you think he’s weird, but maybe he’s going to trip her over or something so he can tell her that’s you and she can be his wingman instead, just a funny shenanigans plot haha

Steve doesn't think twice about the bell to the shop tinkling over the door from where he's rewinding tapes in the back. He watches the picture rapidly flit from scene to scene of Pretty in Pink, until the credits appear and he ejects the VHS from the player. He slides it into its sleeve, but then he hears your voice, a sound that breaks him out of the monotony of his job, and has his feet moving towards the door of their own accord.

He rushes out to the counter, cursing himself for letting Robin take the counter for this shift. You usually come later, so he'd been prepared to swap with her before 5PM, but it's 3 now and you're chatting jovially over the counter with her.

"Your bracelet is gorgeous," She croons, and there's something more-than-friendly about the way she cradles your wrist in her hand to admire it, "It suits you really well."

"Aw, thank you!" You gush, grinning at her, "I called ahead to reserve The Goonies, Steve said he'd put it behind the counter?"

He had put it behind the counter. He'd set aside cash there, too, because he was going to pay your rental fee, and when you'd thank him for it, he was going to say that it was no big deal. But that if you wanted, you could come over to his place to watch it? And he'd pay for pizza too, you wouldn't have to worry about that. So when Robin reaches for the movie, Steve jumps into action.

"Oh, yeah! Here it is," Robin grabs the tape from where it's tucked beneath Steve's jacket near the trash can, "Okay, $1.99 for the rental fee, and you'll have to pay another $0.99 for every day after this Friday that you keep it."

"Actually, Rob," Steve rushes to the counter, cheeks slightly flushed as you turn to watch him, "Uh, I can take this one."

"I got it," She stares awkwardly at him, hand already reaching for the two dollar bills you're handing her

"Uh, no I- I need your help in the back," He jerks a thumb towards the rewind room, "Would you-? I'll- we'll be right back," He smiles at you, gripping her bicep and tugging her away from the counter before she can take your money, "Just give me a second!"

"Dude!" She hisses the moment the door is shut, "What's the matter with you? I totally could have handled that!"

"That's the girl I was telling you about," Steve gushes, his eyes wide and his hands tense at his sides, "I- You can't flirt with the girl I like!'

Her eyes widen momentarily, and her shoulders sag, "Oh, Steve, I didn't know. Okay, uh- alright, you can ring her up. God, why do you always call dibs on the pretty ones?"

"Thanks, Robin," Steve grins, patting her on the shoulder as he rushes for the door. He jogs back to the counter, matching your kind smile with his own where you've set your $2 on the counter.

"Hey, uh, no worries," He stands at the cash register, pushing your bills back towards you and pulling out his own, "I got this one."

Your brows furrow, "Wait- you...? No, I got it! Steve, I'll pay for it, it's okay."

"Don't worry about it!' He insists, pointedly ignoring the way you're holding the cash up for him and sticking his own bills in the register, "I just- I thought that, uh, it would be nice if you came over to my place to watch it. Tonight. Or- or some other night, if tonight doesn't work. But I-," He stammers, grinning sweetly at you, "I can pay."

Your eyes soften, and the hand with the money in it sags. Your confused frown morphs into a smile, "I'd love to come over, Steve. Tonight doesn't work, I'm babysitting." You lament, "But I'm free tomorrow, if you are?"

Steve has a closing shift tomorrow.

"Yeah, no I'm- I'm free." He nods vigorously, already thinking about what food he can bribe Robin with to switch her hours with his tomorrow, "Uh, I can come pick you up at six?"

"Six-thirty," You bargain, and he hands you the tape with a smile and a nod, "Thanks, Steve."

"Yeah, anytime! See you then!" He calls after you as you head for the door, and he waits until you're safely out of the parking lot to rush for the back room, not wanting you to see his desperation.

"She said yes!" He practically shouts, scaring Robin so much that she drops the tape she's holding. It shatters on the ground, plastic spewing over the scratchy carpet, and she shares a horrified glance with Steve.

"Shit. Uh," He stammers, floundering for a solution that won't cost him more than his allowance, "I'll buy a blank tape, just- stick it in there and don't tell anyone. Here," He digs in his pocket, pulling out a ten dollar bill he'd planned to use for gas, "Take this, that's, like, $4 for the tape and $6 for dinner tomorrow night, you're closing."

"I don't have a closing-" She starts, her brows furrowing, then her eyes narrow and she fixes him with an unimpressed stare.

"Really?"

"She wants to meet tomorrow!" Steve insists, running a hand through his hair, "Just- take the cash, Rob. Plus, you owe me one," He reasons, "You flirted with my girl."

"She's not your girl," Robin gripes, but she's more than happy to take the money, "Just be glad I'm an easy bribe, doofus."

[kaybug88]

Mirio x Fem!Reader

December 3rd:

"Nope! You've gotta' open this one last."

Mirio Togata x fem!Reader

Tw: Disgustingly adorable fluff

Wc: 2.1k

Requested: Nope!

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

Christmas night is going great. You, Mirio, Tamaki, and Nejire had snuck off from the rest of your classmates for some alone time. Sure, your class was great! Everyone was kind, and hardworking, what better class could you ask for? As for what you were doing now, you were all laughing about a patrol story Nejire was telling, hidden away in Mirio’s dorm. Well, you and Mirio were laughing, Tamaki was beyond confused on what was going on. 

“Please tell me you're making this up, Nejire!”

You laughed, clutching Mirio’s arm, who was laughing so hard tears were lining his eyes. Tamaki looked like he wanted to laugh, but he couldn't understand what was so funny about a Villain tripping while running away. Really, what could be so funny about that?

“It really di-”

Nejire said before the door creaked open, interrupting the girl. All four of you are looking towards the door, when a clearly sleepy Eri steps in, holding Aizawa’s hand.

“Oh! Hey Eri!”

Mirio said first, instantly brightening the little girl’s mood.

“Hello.”

She said with a smile and small yawn, her little fist curling up and rubbing her right eye.

“She wanted to see you four before she went to bed. She told me you guys helped her pick out presents?”

Aizawa asked, suppressing his own yawn.

“Yeah! We were going to wait until tomorrow morning, almost like an extra Christmas!”

Nejire chirped before you piped up.

“Mhm! You sure you wanna’ do presents tonight? We really don't have to.”

You reassure, getting up from your seat to pick up the girl, earning a giggle from Eri and an eye roll from Aizawa.

“Just call me when she's ready to go to bed.”

Aizawa sighs, closing the door whilst you all agree to his request. Warming Eri up to talk wasn't too hard, but still took a bit of time. She told you all about how class with 1-A went. The food was apparently delicious, Jiro played her guitar which was pleasant, Midorya made sure she was happy the whole time, and she handed out. . . Painted eggs? Whatever floats her boat. You all talked a little about Eri's Christmas so far, small comments from each of you.

“Well that sounds lovely, Eri!”

Mirio says with a small laugh that you rather enjoyed hearing. Behind him were a total of eight boxes, four bigger ones and four smaller. Eri helped pick out each and every present, going off with each person to find gifts for one another. You'd all already opened the presents from Eachother, and saved the ones for, and from Eri for tomorrow. However, since she was here now, why not open them now?

“So, Eri, wanna’ open presents now?”

You ask with Eri sitting in between you and Mirio, whose eyes are now sparkling just from the mention of more presents.

“Yes, please!”

She says excitedly. You laugh before reaching behind you to grab presents.

“Here's. . . Tamaki! And. . . All of Eri’s. Mirio, and Nejire! And there's mine.”

You mindlessly Say while you grab and pass out gifts, each one with its own wrapping paper. Mirio has. . . For some odd reason, Lightning McQueen with snowflakes. Eri's has reindeer with candy canes. Nejire has stars and presents, while Tamaki has presents and Santa hats. Yours has hearts and stars, how cute!

“Tamaki! Do you wanna start? Eri helped me pick it out!”

Mirio piped up, his signature smile on his face. Tamaki stuttered a bit before finally beginning to carefully undo the paper. Upon taking off the paper, he's presented with an. . . Amazon box!

“Can I please have scissors?”

He asks upon seeing the taped cardboard box, in which Nejire hands the designated present scissors that are meant to look like reindeer to Tamaki. He mumbles out a thanks, and takes the scissors, cutting the duct tape away. Now he's presented with. . . Another box! Instead, this one is the box for a heated blanket that Mirio will not be disclosing the price for (unnecessarily expensive).

“You're always saying how cold you get in winter, and I thought you'd like this. . .”

Eri speaks up, getting adoration filled looks from each of you. This girl is too darn cute. Her little red eyes dart from the box displaying the grey blanket to Tamaki, whose mouth is slightly open.

“Thank you, Eri, that's really sweet.”

Tamaki chuckles, and begins to open the box with as much care as he did taking the wrapping paper off. Eri’s smile beams even brighter when she hears Tamaki call the gift sweet. Before anyone can continue, Eri insists that Nejire opens hers, which Tamaki helped her pick.

“Oh! Alright.”

Nejire chuckles before ripping the carefully wrapped box. When she's done tearing away the paper she's presented with. . . An Amazon box! How cool!

“Wow! Just what I wanted, an Amazon box!”

Nejire laughed sarcastically with a smile, earning laughs from the rest of you, including Eri. Taking the reindeer scissors, she carefully cuts away the tape at the top of the box and pulls out an elephant stuffed animal with a tag that says ‘Put me in the microwave, and I’ll smell like lavender!’

“Aww, I've been wanting one of these lil’ guys for a while now! Thank you Eri, thank you Tamaki!”

Nejire said, hugging Tamaki, whose face turns red while she moves on to hug a beaming Eri. Who knew Eri picked such good presents?

“Ooh! Ooh! I wanna go next!”

Mirio says, reaching for his present but getting a small Smack on his hand from you.

"Nope! You've gotta' open this one last."

You say, getting a nod of agreement From Eri and a laugh from Tamaki and Nejire.

“See? Special orders from Eri.”

You shrug, getting a laugh from Mirio as he passes you your present. Your present is from Nejire and Eri, who're both looking at you expectingly.

“Oh this has got to be Legos.”

You say, aggressively shaking the box with laughter erupting From Eri. Eventually you stop shaking the present And take the wrapping paper off the Lego box, which is actually the first non-Amazon box to be opened.

“Oh wow! These are beautiful, Eri, Nejire, thank you!”

You thank, hugging both girls Respectfully. The Lego box is black with dark green edges, the Lego set in the middle. The set name, Botanical Garden, is in the top left corner, and the orchid below it in pink. The orchid legos are white with pink centers, tall green stems that stick out of a grey plant pot and droopy green leaves that go over the edge. Overall, the Lego set looks like tons of fun and pretty, especially since winter denies your ability to have real flowers.

“Now you can open your present.”

You say to Mirio, giving him a big ol’ smile, knowing exactly what's In the box.

“Dear lord, I got a little Amazon box!”

Mirio laughed, earning bright giggles from Eri and small chuckles from Nejire and Tamaki.

“Well, I really got. . . a little box?”

He questioned himself before opening the small jewelry box. The necklace inside was a heart made out of three puzzle pieces. The pieces didn’t say anything, all just a plain silver with the same silver chain. Carefully, he held the necklaces up, the heart keeping in tact.

“I wanted us three to be able to match. . .”

Eri said softly from Mirio's side, whose jaw was still slightly open. Sure, the necklace wasn’t anything crazy, but it still meant a lot to him.

“Thank you, Eri.”

He says softly, sniffling a little as she jumps up to hug the blonde who was clearly trying his best not to cry. He did cry a lot when Eri did something for him (Who wouldn’t? She’s literally the cutest thing).

“Eri, that’s really sweet!”

Nejire chirps from next to you, a soft smile on her lips while she watches Mirio take the pieces apart and pass one to Eri, and one to you. He reaches down to clasp the necklace around Eri’s neck, smiling just as brightly as she did at the concert.

“Wanna put mine on for me?”

You ask Mirio who's put his on and is Smiling down at the silver puzzle piece.

“Yeah, I do.”

He says, moving behind You and carefully doing the silver clasp. The chain hangs loosely around your neck, his soft fingers whispering against the back of your neck. Once you feel his touch leave, you hold the puzzle piece in your hand, remembering exactly how the moment with Eri went. She had been so insistent that you three have a matching something for his Christmas present.

You mumble out a thanks to Mirio while rolling the silver charm between your fingers. Next to you, Mirio Is helping Eri put her own necklace on with Nejire and Tamaki falling into conversation.

“Well, Eri, I think it's time for your presents, how does that sound? We each got you something, so there's four total.”

Mirio tells the little girl who's clearly getting more and more tired. You smile before Eri eagerly begins to open her first present, the sound of paper ripping filling the air.

“A. . . Box?”

Eri questions, earning small laughs From the rest of you while you cut the tape away to reveal a stuffed bunny that has the same tag as Nejire's stuffed animal.

“It's the same thing Nejire got, but it smells like apples. I got that for you."

You point out, and in response, Eri hugs the stuffed animal to her chest tightly. You let out a small chuckle with a warm smile before she proceeds to hug you next. You're taken by surprise before hugging her back. After she lets go while telling you a small ‘thank you', she begins opening her next present.

“Oh cool, an apple cookbook.”

Eri says before Miro points out it's from him so that they can make apple deserts together. Her eyes sparkled at The thought before hugging him as well.

“C'mon! Open mine next!”

Nejire persists, which is also a smaller present, clearly another book. As she opens it, she gets a confused look on her face.

“A guitar lessons book? But I don't have-”

She questions before Nejire pipes up.“Now open Tamaki's.”

Eri raises a brow before opening the biggest present, which has gotta be the Best present she's ever received. A guitar. Well, a smaller one that's good for learners, but a guitar nonetheless.

“You got this for me, Tamaki? Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

The girl cheers, jumping up to hug Tamaki, whose red faced and clearly having a bit of anxiety. Accepting the hug, he tells her a quick ‘You're welcome.'

Before she goes Back to her seat.Time passes with you guys talking and such, Eri yawning from time to time.

“Want me to call Aizawa so you can head to bed?”

You hear Mirio ask while you're talking to Nejire and Tamaki. You don't pay attention, but you can tell your boyfriend is on the phone with Aizawa, who comes no more than ten minutes later, and picks Eri up.

You all give your farewells, and not too Much later, Tamaki heads out, claiming he's also tired. Soon after, Nejire does the same, leaving you and Mirio.

“I-”

You go to say before getting cut off by a quick peck on the lips by Mirio.

“Nope, I'm afraid you can't claim you're also tired and plan to leave me.”

He says with a matter of fact tone. You roll your eyes before going to continue talking.

“Before you rudely interrupted me, I was planning on asking if you don't mind me staying the night.”

You huff, an amused smirk on your lips as you see Mirio’s mouth turn into a small ‘o’.

“Yeah, that'd be nice.”

He said before standing, helping you up in the process with a huff. You thank him by pressing a quick kiss To his lips, which he happily accepts. You feel his lips morph into a smile before you pull apart, and notice his arm reaching for something on his desk. That something being a Mistletoe.

“Is that-”

You try before being cut off.

“A Mistletoe? Yes, yes it is, and would you look at that? It's right above us, looks like you have to kiss me again.”

He teases, his eyes shining with mischief.

“Well shoot, guess I do, don't I?”

You giggle before reaching up to kiss his lips, feeling him drop the Mistletoe and bring his arms around you seconds after. The kiss felt like soft snowflakes falling onto an icy sidewalk with street lights highlighting every single drop of snow. Your lips unturn into a sweet smile, as do his. You each sit there for a little longer, lingering In the presence of your lover. After pulling apart he looks into your sparkling eyes.

"Merry Christmas, Love.”

He says sweetly, and you recite the words just a second later, clear adoration in the air you two share in this very moment.

“Merry Christmas, Love.”

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

A/N: I am not lovin’ this tbh. It felt more like Christmas presents with Eri and the big three, and not so much like a Mirio x Reader ;v;

[scoops-aboy86]

wc: 1034 | Rating: T | CW: mentions of infidelity | Additional Tags: future fic, famous Eddie Munson, school counselor Steve Harrington, past Steddie, reconnecting, olive branches, second chances, hopeful ending

I got wailed at a lot for part 1, lol, so here’s this to start making it better. Thanks for the comments about Eddie’s characterization though, I’m glad all the growing up he’s done since the breakup came through.

Now also on ao3

Hell of a Time at the Wake, part 2

The thing is, Eddie never fell out of love. He’s just grown past wondering if they’ll ever cross paths again, given up hoping because that way lies just going through the motions instead of living. 

So he’s completely blindsided when, months later, he answers the phone without bothering to check caller ID and hears a voice he hasn’t heard in over five years. 

“Did you do that interview to get my attention?”

Not just blindsided, but speechless. Him. Eddie Munson. Completely struck dumb. He opens his mouth and all that falls out is a strangled, “Steve?”

There’s a scoff down the line. “No, it’s Entertainment Tonight.”

It brings a faint smile to Eddie’s face despite the shock; he’d always loved Steve’s bitchy side. “Uh, hey. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting—No, absolutely no, to that question. How did you…?”

“Dustin taped it and mailed it to Robin, who showed it to me after being really, really weird for a couple of weeks,” Steve admits, with what sounds like a grudging sigh. But then, it’s been so long, who’s to say that Eddie even knows how to read the man’s tone anymore. “Apparently they talk about me behind my back. I’m thinking of pressing charges.”

Eddie snorts. “That tracks. Sorry again, for… that. I would’ve gone out of my way to tell Dustin not to, but all that would’ve done was speed things up, probably. And I really… I mean, it wasn’t that I wasn’t thinking about you when I said it, but…”

“You didn’t expect me to see it.”

“Well,” he hedges—but yeah, he hadn’t. “It’s not like I expect you to keep tabs on me. I fucked that up a long time ago, I know you don’t owe me any of your time or anything. Just, they asked why I don’t drink and I figured I’d give the real answer for once, get it off my chest. For me, you know?”

There’s a pause, and then, “Yeah, I get that.”

The words are quiet. Eddie doesn’t know what to make of them, so he doesn’t particularly try. He leans his hip against his kitchen counter, picking up the mug he’d set down in his haste to catch the ringing phone. Takes a sip. Clears his throat. 

“So,” he prompts finally into the awkward silence. 

“So,” Steve agrees. “Um, is it stupid to admit that I called all indignant because I was sure—But, I get it. And I appreciate that you were… discrete, I guess is the word. You could’ve said a lot worse about how I handled things back then.”

“Gonna be honest, I have a lot clearer memories of how badly I handled it,” Eddie says, staring down into his mug. His face peers back up at him from the dark, steaming surface of the liquid, and man, the number of times he’s wanted to punch the guys he’s looking at for some of that shit. “At the risk of sounding dismissive, people in their early twenties are a lot stupider than they think.”

“That’s hindsight for you.” Another pause. “We don’t have to talk about it. I don’t think I want to open up that can of worms. But… I was surprised to hear that you’re a teetotaler now. Not even weed?”

Eddie laughs. “Hey man, I smoked enough of that while I was still dealing to last a lifetime.”

“You’re not wrong,” Steve shoots back, and maybe, just maybe, he’s smiling when he says it. “I don’t anymore either. Smoke, I mean. I could say I grew out of it, but the smell was…”

He trails off, and Eddie lets him, nodding to himself. Too many memories, the scent of reefer permeating his old jackets that Steve had liked to steal whenever they’d spent a night apart. It’s why he doesn’t wear those anymore either.

“Yeah,” Eddie says softly. “It got me through some shit. I’ve got different shit now, though. Better, uh…”

“Coping mechanisms?”

“Sure. And a busier schedule, too. Not a lot of time to sit around and just be stoned, which was half the fun of it anyway.” It had always made Eddie somewhere in the crux between annoyed and anxious if he had to get up and Do Something when he’d been smoking. Spoiled the ambiance, the boneless indulgence of a good high. That attitude had led to more than a few arguments when they’d been together, and with Uncle Wayne before that—but Eddie had always preferred to finish things up and then smoke up, as a reward. 

Working on DnD campaigns hadn’t counted as doing something. Music either, back before he’d made a career of it. 

“Same here. Did Dustin tell you I’m a middle school counselor now?”

Eddie sees the smile in his reflection before he realizes he’s doing it, and covers his completely unnecessary embarrassment by taking a sip, which Steve also can’t see. “He didn’t, but that’s great. Just like you wanted, huh?”

“Yeah. Keeps me pretty busy, the kids these days man, you wouldn’t fucking believe… I mean, nothing as off the wall as some of the shit the Party got up to, obviously, but these kids, jesus. But yeah, I love it.” Steve hesitates. “How about you? How’s the, uh, music industry treating you?”

Once upon a time, Steve had spat in his face that Eddie only wanted to be a rockstar for the sex, drugs, and groupies, and Eddie had snarled back that it’s supposed to be sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll, asshole, I know you don’t take me seriously as a musician but come the fuck on.

“Can’t complain,” Eddie replies easily, because that was a long time ago, in the heat of an otherwise long forgotten moment. They were different people. “Our last album just went gold. The last tour was wild, but too long. Jeff’s got a baby on the way so we’re taking it easy for a while.”

“That’s great, man. Breaks are good. It sounds like you’ve really earned it.” 

And the thing is, Eddie never fell out of love. 

They keep talking, sometimes stalling out but always picking up the threads to keep going eventually, and it feels a little bit like coming home. 

Permanent tag list (ask to be added/removed):

@hotluncheddie @hiei-harringtonmunson @sofadofax @hickeysgodcomplex @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @yesdangerpls @theseaofdespair

[thissortofsorcery]

I can so imagine a scenario where Billy and Steve have been screwing around for months, like months, and while Billy has plenty of experience with sex, he’s never slept with anyone quite like Steve.

Steve who holds his hand during sex, Steve who gets off on Billy’s pleasure, Steve who kisses him before and after and during, who likes cuddling, who doesn’t avoid being seen with Billy at all and actually starts hanging out with Billy at school and out of it, who invites him to play basketball in the park and to get food after, and to stay over at his house like every weekend.

Naturally, Billy thinks they’re dating.

But they never talk about it. Somehow, for months of this, it never comes up in conversation how to define their relationship. It’s not exactly necessary, both of them being content as they are with what they have with each other. Whatever they think it is.

Until, of course…

Senior Prom.

Billy’s been dodging prom invitations left and right for two weeks now, leaving a trail of pouty glossed lips behind, claiming he has no interest in going to “the party equivalent of daytime tv”. Steve hasn’t said anything about it except a half-muttered comment that he went to Junior Prom with Nancy, after which he immediately changed the subject. Billy assumed he didn’t want to go either.

Which is why Billy’s surprised when he hears through the school grapevine that Becky Olson asked Steve to Prom and he said yes.

When Billy shows up at Steve’s house after school that day, he’s rage smoked half a pack of cigarettes and stewed in his anger all through the afternoon. Even Max heard about it all the way in the middle school, and offered to take Steve’s bat to his balls. Billy drops Max off at home after promising that if he doesn’t kill Steve, he’ll let her at him.

He lets himself into Steve’s house (Steve always leaves the door unlocked for him) and goes straight to Steve’s room (it’s routine by now), where he finds him sitting on his bed, going through cassette tapes.

“Hey, man,” Steve says. Entirely unconcerned.

Billy’s nostrils flare.

“What the fuck, Steve? Is that what you’re gonna say? ‘Hey, man’?”

Steve does look up then, and frowns at Billy, fucking confused. Like Billy’s saying nonsense.

“Yes? Hello? How was your day?” Steve says, nose scrunching up. “What am I supposed to say?”

Billy can’t fucking believe this. This whole time, Steve’s been so- Now he’s acting like he didn’t even do anything.

“Maybe start by telling me what the hell you’re thinking going to prom with some chick!” He yells, like he hasn’t been cursing her name for at least two hours.

Steve gets up from the bed then, runs a hand through his stupid hair, crosses his arms. Billy can see he’s closing himself off, going on the defensive right off the bat.

“Why are you mad at me about this? You don’t even wanna go,” Steve doesn’t raise his voice, but his words echo in the room same as a slap on his face would.

“I don’t know, Steve, maybe I’m mad my boyfriend’s going on a date with some girl!”

This isn’t making any fucking sense. Steve isn’t like this, an inconsiderate asshole going behind Billy’s back. He’s sweet. He’s always been sweet.

There’s something wrong here, and Billy can’t put his finger on it, and it just makes him angrier.

Steve rears back, brows going up, up, up towards his hairline, eyes wide, a sea of white around brown.

“Boyfriend?” He repeats. Licks his lips. “How- Why would you say boyfriend?”

Billy’s stomach sinks, takes everything in his abdominal cavity with it. He feels hollow, weighed down. All the fight has been sucked out of him.

That’s why the conversation felt off.

"Because we've been dating for like, three months, Steve," Billy says, or forces out, and his voice comes out shaky.

They were. He thought they were. Steve’s been- He holds Billy’s hand. They go on dates, as much as they can while staying under the radar. Billy stays over most weekends. It’s never been like this with anyone else, for Billy, not even in California. Even Before.

Steve’s eyes are still wide, but his eyebrows are doing the puppy dog thing, turned up at the inner corners like he’s hurt.

“I…” He starts, stops. Decides on something else. “We never talked about this.”

Billy rears back this time, feeling the sentence like a blow, and Steve follows him with a step forward, hand reaching out.

“I mean- shit,” Steve says, stammers, runs a hand down his face. “I didn’t know you felt that way. About me. I thought you didn’t-”

“What the fuck did you think when we were going on fucking dates, Steve?!”

“You’re my best friend!” Steve says, and it stings. “We do everything together!”

“And suck each other’s dicks, too!”

“I thought-”

“Thought what, this was some friends with benefits shit? If you’re my best friend and we’re boning, how’s that different from a relationship, Steve?!”

“We never talked about it!” Steve finally raises his voice, and the sound of it stuns Billy.

Steve makes an aborted motion with his hand, then again, before closing it into a fist by his side. He rubs at his eyes with his other hand, but not before Billy sees they are wet.

“I’m not going to assume you’re in love with me, Billy! What if I’m wrong? What if I spend months thinking you love me and it turns out to be bullshit?”

Steve’s breathing hard as he finishes speaking, cheeks blotchy red, and hands shaking. He looks terrified right now, terrified Billy’s going to give up on him and leave, going by how he glances from Billy to the door; terrified he’s hurting Billy, because he keeps reaching out but doesn’t step any closer.

Billy feels something click, then, a piece of the puzzle that was grating on him with jagged edges smooths outs and slots into place. That’s the Steve he knows, with his head tangled in so many feelings he can’t parse them out, but never uncaring. Never cold.

“Well, I do,” Billy says, stepping closer to Steve.

He walk forward until their toes are almost touching, until Steve has to tilt his head down to look Billy in the eye. Billy takes a breath and raises an eyebrow, raises his chin, gives Steve his best smirk like wants to eat him alive. Takes a chance.

“I do love you. Whatcha gonna do about it?”

Steve’s eyes jump between his, mouth parted, like a man lost searching for something. Like he’s looking at something holy. Billy feels tentative fingertips at his elbows, then fingers running up his triceps, until finally one of Steve’s hands closes around his arm. The other continues up, up, a long tingling line to his neck, and Steve cups his jaw like something precious. Rubs his thumb on Billy’s cheekbone, feather light, but Billy feels it like a brand.

“You mean it?” Steve’s voice comes out in a ragged whisper, breath spilling over Billy’s lips.

“I do.” They’re so close. Billy wants to take in all of Steve’s face, the way he’s looking at Billy, with his eyes half lidded and his lips parted, like he’s everything Steve could ever want.

“Basketball in the park,” Steve says, out of nowhere, voice still low. “In February. You complained about the cold the whole time but you still kicked my ass. I bought you a burger at the diner, after. That was our first date.”

Billy’s face splits into a grin so wide his cheeks hurt, and he bunches his hands in Steve’s dumb polo shirt, pulls him closer until Steve has to lean down those two inches to press their foreheads together.

“I love you,” Steve whispers against Billy’s lips, “I’m so in love with you.”

Billy nods, barely moving his head, unwilling to part where they’re touching, “‘m in love with you.”

Their lips really touch then, feeling like the first time even if they’ve kissed a thousand times before, are as familiar with each other’s mouths as they are with their own.

The scrape of Steve’s teeth against Billy’s bottom lip pulls a moan out of Billy, and he presses himself tighter to Steve’s body, pulls at his chest, his hips, wants to climb inside him and never leave.

No one’s ever felt like this. No one’s ever made Billy feel like this, this wanted, this needed, like the world starts and ends with them, together. That’s why Billy was so sure they were together. It couldn’t be anything else.

Steve’s the best thing that’s ever happened to Billy, and he’s not gonna let him go without a fight.

[likablemuffin]

The disaster twins r so #sillay :D

(From: random ROTTMNT oneshots, requested story)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Both Leo and Donnie were just... not feeling great.

Both didn't get very much sleep the night before, and also, oh wow, depression is still a thing.

Thankfully, just before they both had a literal mental breakdown, Y/n showed up! 

Obviously, with the disaster twins being damn SIMPS, they both wanted a hug from Y/n to feel better. They wouldn't mind giving them both one, and it's from one of their favorite people! Sounds like a great formula for feeling better!

The problem was, however, that the disaster twins, being simps, are both not very good at asking Y/n for a hug. I mean, what are they supposed to say? Just go up and ask for a hug? Okay, that would work, but that's embarrassing! No one just does that...especially with your crush.

So, that is how this absolute chaos started.

Leo and Donnie decided that it would be a great idea to see who could hint at wanting a hug the best until Y/n actually understood what they wanted and gave one to them. 

Add on the fact that they're both literally holding themselves together with zip ties and duck tape so they don't have a mental breakdown before Y/n can even see them, and you get a totally friendly and nice brother competition! Nothing to possibly go wrong!

As of right now, Leo and Donnie are both sitting on opposite sides of Y/n as Y/n plays a video game and Leo and Donnie both just watch.

Donnie is shaking slightly as he tries to contain his anxiousness, and Leo fiddles with his fingers, which is something that he does only when he's trying really hard to hold his "face man" persona.

Leo and Donnie had been subtly hinting at wanting a hug from Y/n, saying things like "Oh man, I feel cold." Or, "Dang! That was awesome! I should hug you or something, ha!" but sadly, Y/n didn't catch on with any of them, much to Leo and Donnie's annoyance.

Eventually, Leo was getting so desperate for a hug (and he felt even WORSE mentally as time went on), so he just straight up went for it. Y/n just beat a really hard mission in the game they were playing, so Leo simply says, "Do you want a hug for that?" 

Y/n looks at him with a strange look, while Donnie looks at him from the other side of Y/n with a look that both looked like, "I'm going to kill you," and like Donnie was even more on the verge of a breakdown because he wanted to be the first one to get a hug from Y/n. "Uhh...Leo, you feeling alright, bud?" Leo starts to sweat nervously, and he can hear his heart pumping in his chest. "Uhh...haha! Gotcha! I...uhh...was just kidding! Mhm! Just a joke!"

Ahhh!! What is he doing??? Both in the fact of why is he just going for it like this, and WHY IS HE GOING BACK ON IT LAST SECOND???

Y/n squints their eyes at Leo, and Leo can tell that they're trying to tell if he's really telling the truth. However, Leo's face thought that that would be the absolute perfect time to betray him, by making tears of both embarrassment and sadness well up slightly in his eyes. Y/n notices it almost immediately.

"Hey! Are you crying? What's wrong??" Leo notices all too late what was happening and wipes his eyes, which honestly just makes the fact that there were tears in his eyes way more obvious. "No, no! I'm fine Y/n! Its just, uhh...really dusty in here! Yeah!" Y/n doesn't believe it for a second, but before Y/n can protest, Donnie scoops them up from behind in an awkward hug. "Ah- Donnie?" Leo's face grows hot at seeing Donnie hug Y/n before him, because Leo was the one about to get a hug! What the heck! "Hey! Donnieeeee! I was about to hug them!" "One, you were just about to tap out, and two, even if you weren't, you were taking WAYYYY too long! I want Y/n hugs too, you know!" 

Y/n laughs from their spot in Donnie's arms, and the noise makes both Donnie's and Leo's hearts skip a beat. "Wait, wait. Both of you slow down. You both want a hug from me??" Donnie and Leo blush as Leo struggles to form a sentence. Donnie just gives up making a sentence right then and there. Nope. He was NOT doing that.

"Uhh...w-well, you see...we...uhh...kinda felt a bit sad today, s-so...uhh...we just wanted to get a hug from you t-to make us feel better??" Y/n laughs again and shimmies out of Donnie's hold. Donnie lets out a distressed chirp at his hold on Y/n being stolen from him. "Alright. Both of you, bring it in." 

Y/n holds their arms out, and Leo and Donnie practically crash into Y/n, partially making Y/n not be able to breathe. "Ow- guys! A bit less tight?? Please????" Leo and Donnie look at each other sheepishly and make their hold on Y/n less tight. Y/n breathes out with the new air they got into their lungs and pulls the boys closer. "Hey! I thought you just told us to not hug you too tight!" "Yeah, but it's alright when I'M the one hugging YOU too tight." 

Leo and Donnie both laugh at that, and suddenly, they feel a lot better than they did before.

They knew that a hug from Y/n would make them feel better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[lou-struck]

A Peaceful Project

Hajime Iwaizumi  x reader

Flufftober Day 11

WC: 1.4k

~You bought a few beginner crochet kits from the airport's gift shop to wait out your long layover, while traveling with your Fiancé and the Pro- Volleyball team he works for. 

What a sight your group must be amidst the usual airport crowd. The Japan National Volleyball Team mostly stands tall in their all-red warm-up uniforms they have elected to travel in for their flight home from an International Volleyball tournament. You would never tell them this, but the group looks a bit like a cult. 

Due to hazardous weather, the flight home has been delayed for at least another twelve hours, and it is quite amusing to see how these top athletes deal with the stale stench of boredom that wafts throughout the gate.

Between the rows of leather-backed seats, you spy the muscled form of your Fiance, who busies himself with adjusting the athletic tape of Tobio Kagyama’s fingers, but you can tell by Hajime’s tight smile he is thankful to be wearing his normal clothes.

“How much longer do we have to sit hereeee?” Shoyo Hinata whines, squirming in his seat. The redhead has never been good at staying in one place, so this must be agonizing for him.

“A while,” you reply, feeling pity for the man. “Maybe you could go check out the airport and get yourself some food.”

At the mention of a meal, he brightens up exponentially and looks at you with wide eyes. “There’s food here?”

“Yeah, idiot,” Kageyama says, walking over to the two of you, flexing his freshly taped fingers. “Why would we be stuck in a place like this without something to eat?”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Crappyama,” the smaller man responds, childishly sticking out his tongue at the setter. He turns his attention to you nicely. “Wanna go with me since Iwaizumi is busy?”

You smile warmly at him and shake your head. “Thank you for asking, but I’ll wait for him to get done.”

“Oh, okay,” he says before turning to the setter. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

“Why me?” Kageyama asks, looking surprised. 

“Because you’re always grumpy when you’re hungry.” the redhead says before zipping away down the terminal. 

“I’m not grumpy!” The dark-haired man calls, sprinting after him. 

You laugh as they disappear out of sight, and you hear a deep chuckling behind you. Turning your head, you see Hajime walking over to you. 

“There goes our entertainment.” he laughs, leaning over you in your seat. His large hand slips under your chin and tilts it upwards so that he can give you a proper kiss. “How you doing, baby?”

“Better now,” you hum, enjoying his attention. While you are glad that you were able to join him on this trip, you definitely haven’t gotten to spend as much time with him as you would’ve liked. Between tending to the player’s injuries and providing nutritional advice for the team’s meals, he has made a lot of overtime pay these last few days. “How many players do you have to do treatments on?”

His face falls, and he glances back at the queue of men standing behind him. There are at least a dozen players in need of treatment. The last few days were tough on them, and there was no shortage of injuries. “I’ll be at least another hour,” he sighs. “I’m sorry.”

Your comforting touch finds his bicep, and you give it a reassuring little squeeze. “Hey, it’s alright. I can just get a book or something from that little shop over there, and then we can go and get something together.”

He looks between you and the ‘Go Mart’ a few yards away before giving you a tired yet heartfelt smile. “You would really do that for me?”

“You know I’d do just about anything for you,” you laugh, reaching into your backpack and pulling out your wallet to pay for whatever kind of overpriced airport entertainment you are about to get for yourself.

“Thanks, baby,” he says, helping you to your feet. “I’ll go as fast as I can, I promise.” With quick steps, he walks back over to his empty row of seats that he has cleared out for his athletic training purposes and starts barking directions at the men waiting in line. “You’re next, Miya, sit down and let me see that damn wrist of yours.”

Leaving your suitcase in the safety of your party, you step into the little shop. Walking past the rack of keychains and shot glasses with various city names and other last-minute travel gifts, people get when they forget to buy them on their travels to the back of the store. The wall of mass-market paperbacks looks down on you. 

You are just about to reach for a cheesy-sounding romance novel until something catches your eye. Your head turns to give yourself a better look, and you see a little rack of arts and crafts kits, including some paint-by-numbers coloring books and ‘Beginner-Friendly’ crochet kits. 

The little pouches have adorable little crochet animal pictures on the front, including a little green lizard guy and a purple penguin. It may not be a book, but these little kits look like just the thing you need to make it through this layover. 

You scoop the light packages off their hooks and bring them to the counter, not bothering to look at the obscenely high price they have. 

It will hurt less to just ignore the charge on your credit card completely…

~

The gift shop bag sways to and fro as you walk back to where your group is supposed to be. Your gate has become practically empty save for your Fiance, who diligently watches the luggage with his arms crossed. 

“Where’s the rest of your line?” you ask, noting the absence of the volleyball players. 

“They got hungry and left.” he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “We should’ve just gotten food when we had the chance.”

“So now you’re on suitcase duty?” you ask, plopping down in the seat next to him.

“Until they come back, I guess we are stuck here.” He spots the bag in your hand and peaks into it. “That doesn’t look like a book.” 

“Nope,” you say brightly, taking the kits out of the plastic and showing them to him. “I got us a project.”

“Crocheting?” he asks, reading the label. 

“The package says it’s for beginners, so I think the two of us can figure it out together,” you say, tossing him the lizard. “Go make a mini Godzilla.”

“That’s just a Lizard,” he chuckles. 

You roll your eyes and open the package of your purple penguin. “It could be a Mini Godzilla.” you hum. 

He smiles just for you and opens the package, taking out the yarn, the crochet hook, and, most importantly, the instructions. “Let’s see what this is all about then.”

Within minutes, you guys are hooked…

As much as you love talking to each other, you are dead silent as your eyes scan the instructions and your project. And despite the hustle and bustle of the airport around you, you feel remarkably peaceful. 

Thirty minutes go by before you say anything. “How is it going?” you ask, not taking your eyes off the little penguin bottom you have crafted. 

“Good,” he says, short and sweet. No doubt thriving in the comfortable silence the two of you have created for yourselves.

“Good.” you parrot, looking at the yard strand between your fingers and admiring the long chain you have formed. You may not know what you have to do after this step, but you’ll find out when you get there.

“Hey, we’re back,” Hinata calls, rushing back over to you two with Kageyama on his heels. “This airport is so cool. There’s a whole plane inside this garden thing and like a gazillion places to eat; when you go down there, make sure to,” he is cut off by an icy glare from your Fiance. 

“Shut up, I’m trying to concentrate.” Hajime hisses at the dynamic duo. “Unless you are injured or dying, leave us be.”

They look a bit taken aback at the Athletic Trainer’s outburst and look to you for any kind of comfort, but you are too engrossed in your project to give it to them.

“Sorry guys, I have a penguin to make.” you hum, looping another strand of violet yarn around your crochet hook. 

Neither of you has acknowledged it yet, but whoever finishes their project first won’t have to pay for their meal.

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network @eussstasss

[m1sa-w1sa]

Do you have general yandere Nagito headcannons about how he would go about certain yander behaviors, like stalking? Or maybe using his luck cycle to just happen to bump into reader? I can see him genuinely seeing reader as a gift his luck gave him. Reader has a talent by the way if it effects anything. Thank you♡

My luck charm

Paring Yandere!Nagtio x Gender Nutrual!Ultimate Unlucky!Reader

TW:

Yandere themes, violence, kidnapping, possessive/obsessive behaviors, probally ooc

I DONT SUPPORT YANDERE BEHAVIORS OR CONDONE THESE IN ANY WAY, IF YOU FEEL LIKE A “IRL YANDERE” GO SEEK PROFESSIONAL HELP

How did you meet?

•You were new to the class, as the Ultimate unlucky student, most people didn’t care for who you were at the moment

•Besides Him

•Nagito thought that his luck and his hope brought you two together so it doesn’t take long for him to get obsessed

How does he get closer to you?

•It’s quiet simple actually, when you were in the hallway after class was dismissed, he came up to you

“Hey! Sorry if a scumbag like me is trying to talk to you but, I’m Nagito komeda! The ultimate lucky student.”

•Then again you didn’t think much of it, he was your classmate after all, and your ultimates do kinda click with each others so you decided to hang out with him more

•But after all that’s what you would be doing for the rest of your life going forward, wouldn’t you?

•He always stays by your side, anytime you ask he always says the same thing

“Oh cmon silly! Even though a price of trash should be around a goddess like you..! I just don’t want your luck to be the reason why you get hurt!”

•And again you think he’s right, your unlucky, so of course you need your (soon to be boy)friend to look after you!

How does he act?

•Nagito is very obsessive, he’s very clingy with you, never leaving your side for one bit, any items you lose or forget, you can bet he keeps that as a shrine in his bedroom to look at every day, even if you didn’t like him, he would always use his luck to make you guys meet again, and again

How does he kidnap you?

•Class was out, the sun was setting, let’s say you had a crush on someone else in the class

•The whole day you been writing a heartfelt letter, it’s bold of you to think your best (boy)friend wasn’t watching his little luck charm

•After class you started to walk over to their locker, skipping and giggling like you were in those movies.. Nagito was so lucky to have the best (girl)friend like you!

•You stopped at their locker, slipping the note in their locker, right when you turned around

•You blacked out.

•You wake up in a cold, room, but it was near and tidy.. you only see black, but.. your eyes are open right?

•Your mouth is taped shut, your hands are behind your back, her legs are aching, you hear footsteps

•Tap

•Tap

•Tap

“You’re finally awake! I started to think that the surgery wasn’t a success.. Mikan was a big help..”

•Your head perks up, that voice.. you know it all to well..

“Oh.. how inconsiderate of me.. Of course a piece of trash like me forget to tell you.. Well.. to always have you around.. I asked Mikan to take out your eyes! Oh.. your strong hope is just so powering..! I just had to have some for myself.. you understand.. right..?”