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joequiinn · 25 days ago

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And You're Driven Like the Snow | s.h. x mall goth!reader

Summary | Just when you thought Christmas Eve couldn't get any more stressful at Starcourt, that pretty boy from Scoops Ahoy (that you did not have a crush on) walked into your shop and threw your whole night for a loop.

Prompt | You need a last minute gift, but man that sales clerk sure is cute…

Warnings & Notes | fem!reader, mostly fluff, sorta merry little meet-cute (?), mutual pining, post-S3 au in which nothing bad happens, nervous & awkward Steve, reader's appearance not described only parts of her wardrobe are referenced

Author's Note | This was an idea I had started only a couple of days before @littlexdeaths posted the Twelve Days of Promptmas list, so when I saw a prompt that fit the vibes, I made some little adjustments to the story! This is my first go at writing Steve, so I hope I've done him justice.

Recommended Listening | very merry gothmas

WC | 12.5k

[masterlist]

!!! MINORS DNI !!!

Still night, nothing for miles // A white curtain come down Kill the lights in the middle of the road // And take a, take a look around

The guy in that stupid little sailor suit should not have ever caught your eye, not for anything more than a simple laugh at his expense before moving on with your day. And yet - as you entered the mall before hours, running late and knowing that your manager would chew you out for it - you caught yourself doing a double-take, looking from his gorgeous head of hair down to the near dangerous length of his shorts.

It only lasted for perhaps a few seconds, but nonetheless you had to shake yourself from the moment, utter confusion written across your face. Why the hell had you looked for even just that second, eyeing some pretty boy who most certainly wasn’t your type at all?

Once you had entered Spencer’s Gifts through the staff door and gotten the expected scolding from your manager who was on an authority high, you’d all but forgotten about your strange lapse in judgment on your way here. And so your day carried on as usual, your week carried on as usual, and that stupid looking boy from the ice cream shop wasn’t even a blip in your mind.

Until a week or so later, when once again you spotted him from afar as the two of you entered Starcourt for your respective shifts. This time, you couldn’t help but stare a little longer, looking him up and down with an insatiable curiosity as he walked far enough ahead of you that he was most likely unaware of your presence at all.

You tried to convince yourself that you were staring this time simply to figure out why he caught your attention in the first place - it had to be because of how stupid that Scoops Ahoy uniform was, right? There was no way you were oddly charmed by how well he wore it, or how his hair looked incredibly soft, or how his absentminded expression had an endearing quality to it. Nope, you weren’t staring out of any sort of interest in him at all, it was simply some morbid sense of curiosity about someone so clearly unlike yourself.

It was the third time you were staring, however, that made you kick yourself, because on this occasion the Scoops Ahoy guy caught you.

You’d been walking quite a fair distance behind - hoping that you didn’t look like a total creep watching how his long strides carried him - when his keys fell from his hands. When he turned to pick them up, the two of you met eyes across the expanse of the empty mall; you hadn’t even realized that you stopped walking until that moment.

You were instantly flustered by his brown eyes and the curious furrow of his brow, trying in vain to look around yourself and act as if you totally weren’t staring at all. Of course, you knew even as you did it that the act wasn’t going to work; when you nervously met his eyes again, you thought perhaps you saw something like amusement there. So, panicked and not knowing what else to do, you glared harshly as if to dismiss your staring and briskly continued on towards the escalators without daring to slow or look back at him one last time.

Why you’d been so caught up in him at all was a mystery to you, and so from that point you made a conscious effort to ignore him in the hopes that eventually your intrigue would be forgotten. So, you briefly found some guy cute? Didn’t matter, especially considering that you had no intention of ever speaking to him anyway.

Most days, that stupid Scoops Ahoy guy never even crossed your mind, but when he did, it was nearly an annoyance. If ever you visited the food court for lunch, it was almost aggressive the way you ignored the ice cream parlor, acting as if it wasn’t even there. During some of your morning walks through Starcourt you tried to keep your head down, but more than once the two of you had accidentally fallen in-stride with one another, which would prompt you to practically stomp forward and act as if you didn’t know he was there at all.

Then there was one day when you were convinced that your coworker was conspiring against you, because Shelley all but dragged you down to Scoops Ahoy despite your protests. Evidently, her ice cream craving took precedence over your arguments against accompanying her.

You could feel the tension in your body and across your face as you awkwardly stood there beside Shelley, your eyes trained on the floor as if that would keep you from doing something foolish. If your coworker was aware of your rigid demeanor, she didn’t draw attention to it, far too focused on ordering the most annoyingly intricate sundae you’d ever seen.

As luck would have it, you weren’t invisible simply because you wouldn’t look at the Scoops Ahoy guy, because he turned his attention to you and asked, “Anything for you?”

You looked up with a mean expression, which was somewhat unintentional - your nerves always managed to make you seem bitchy rather than anxious, which was a win depending on who you asked. You could see the exact moment that he recognized you, his expression faltering for a brief moment; you weren’t sure if his surprise was good or bad.

Your eyes bounced around his face for a moment, flicking down towards his name tag just long enough to read that it said “Steve” in bubble letters; shit, having his name made this so much worse somehow. But you found your voice quickly - although it felt like a lifetime - giving him a blunt and mildly rude, “No.”

You could see a bit of tension between his brows at your response, but he was able to mask it quickly, putting on that false customer service smile while turning his attention back to Shelley. That interaction was damn near mortifying for you, and for weeks after you avoided the food court like a damn plague.

Then, of course, there was that one time you were cleaning up shelves near the front of Spencer’s, minding your business and trying to zone out everything around you, when you felt as if there were a pair of eyes on you. So, you looked around quizzically, up and down the wide aisles of Starcourt, when finally you spotted Steve rubber-necking from across the way just so he could stare at you. Beside him was his fellow Scoops Ahoy employee, and under other circumstances, their matching uniforms would have made the sight of them comical to you, but in this instance all you felt was confusion and nervousness.

Now it was your turn to pull a bewildered expression as a flustered look flashed across Steve’s face. He abruptly pulled his gaze away, pretending to look at the mannequins in the shop window next to him, though he practically tripped over himself in his panic.

Despite your utter confusion, something about it made you smile to yourself while turning back towards your work, though you just as quickly shook off the expression. You were not about to get giddy just because some guy was looking at you - for all you knew, his stare was a bad thing. Maybe he was just trying to remember your face so he knew which store to avoid, or maybe - an even worse thought - he was confusing you with someone else. Regardless, you kept your head down until you were finally done with your task, whisking deeper into the store the moment that you were free.

You were a pretty far cry from Steve Harrington’s usual type - the all-black wardrobe, the intricate make-up, and the wild hair of the goth scene had never been of any interest to him before. In fact, a younger, more entitled and rude Steve would have probably mocked your appearance. The only time he would spare a second glance at someone clad in black was usually because their attire was garishly off-trend, but otherwise he’d never once spared any goth chick a second glance.

That is, until that one morning when he dropped his keys and caught you staring at him.

Steve was almost certain that he’d seen you around before, though only sparingly and in his periphery; he could have been confusing you with some of the other mall goths he’d seen lurking about, but he was pretty damn confident that he recognized you specifically.

He was taken aback by the fact that you were watching him so intently, his interest only amplified by the way your expression morphed from curiosity into a glare before you briskly walked off in the direction of your respective workplace. Steve couldn’t help but watch you go, an intrigue planted in his brain as he looked you up and down, perhaps trying to commit your appearance to memory. He wondered why you seemed so focused on him, which quickly morphed into wondering about you in general.

It was almost refreshing to have someone new to be curious about, considering that chicks seemed to abruptly lose interest in Steve over the summer. It bolstered his confidence to catch you staring at him, a confidence that he didn’t realize had wavered so much.

Oftentimes, Steve would go days at a time without thinking about the goth girl who gave him pause, but every time he thought he was free of you, you’d appear again like clockwork. He’d see you in the parking lot as the two of you rushed into work, on a lunch break trying to scarf down your food so you wouldn’t be late, talking with people who were maybe coworkers or friends. And even that brief, stinted interaction when you were in line at Scoops Ahoy managed to intrigue him despite your rudeness.

Again, it was usually only in passing, but Steve was becoming increasingly aware of your presence… and increasingly aware of the fact that he found you very attractive.

He didn’t know a damn thing about you - not your name or what your voice sounded like or your interests - but Steve was beginning to enjoy those random sightings of you around Starcourt, even looking forward to them as if you were a rare lunar eclipse. Watching you walk quickly across the mall and towards the escalators became a guessing game for him, wondering which shop you worked in - though, he didn’t want to be that guy who would swing by your workplace just so he could catch a glimpse of you. He wasn’t sure what it was about you that he was so drawn to, yet he couldn’t resist looking each time you were nearby.

Robin, of course, wasn’t stupid and caught onto the fact that someone was drawing Steve’s attention every now and then, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out who. Although they’d only been friends for a few months at this point, the two of them were practically attached at the hip, so it was strange that Steve wasn’t talking about whoever this new distraction was.

Considering that he all but gave up on flirting with girls at Scoops and hadn’t been on a date in months - so far as Robin was aware - it only made this scenario all the more intriguing to her. Now, Robin was committed to figuring out who had caught Steve’s eye and why he wasn’t saying anything about it.

She finally got her answer one day as the two of them were walking through Starcourt after work, Robin insisting on stopping into a couple of stores before leaving. She noticed Steve clearly focused elsewhere, and so she tried to slyly look around, hoping she’d pinpoint the chick that had Steve’s head turning. Evidently, he must have been caught, because Steve whipped his attention around rapidly, even stumbling over his feet as he tried to play nonchalant.

So, Robin looked back while stifling her laugh, eyes scanning the crowds for anyone who could be the culprit - she was expecting it to be obvious, to see a gorgeous girl in preppy clothes with equally as generic hair and make-up. But when no one instantly stood out, it made her pause, eyes focusing in on each and every face more carefully.

Steve hadn’t realized that she stopped walking until he was a few paces ahead, looking either side of him before turning around towards his best friend. His brows furrowed with confusion as he asked what she was doing, but Robin was too focused to answer; so, he walked back towards her, trying to follow her line of sight, still feeling a touch frazzled by the fact that you’d caught him staring at you so damn openly.

It took a minute, but Robin was still coming up blank - no one looked to be Steve’s type at all. She turned her attention back to him, eyes narrowing with a scrutiny that was making him nervous all over again.

“Who were you looking at?” Robin asked. Steve’s brow rose with worry that he’d been caught before he tried to put on a false show of innocence.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit.” Robin’s expression became even more scheming, eager to play detective and uncover what Steve wasn’t telling her, “Don’t play dumb, I know you’ve been distracted by someone recently, so who is it?”

Despite it being an uphill battle, Steve still tried to feign confusion, “I haven’t been distracted by anyone.”

“You’re not as subtle as you think.” Robin smiled devilishly, looking around Starcourt again, “So, why are you afraid of just telling me?”

Steve stared dumbly at her for a moment, heart drumming nervously as if he’d committed some kind of crime. With a deep sigh, he shook his head while looking down at the ground in defeat - he figured the worst Robin could do was pick on him a little, so there was no reason to be this secretive about it.

So, Steve looked back towards Spencer’s, half hoping you wouldn’t be at the front of the store, but you were still there directly in his sight. He pointed towards you, praying that you wouldn’t happen to look back up just like you did a couple of minutes ago. Robin followed his finger, her brow knitted together when the only person who fit the bill even slightly was you, the goth chick with the “don’t talk to me” attitude.

She looked between you and Steve, back and forth enough times that it was nearly slapstick; everything she knew about Steve up to this point hadn’t prepared her for the realization that maybe goth could be his type. Is that why he hadn’t mentioned it, why he hadn’t once discussed a new crush he was maybe developing?

Once the shock of it had passed, Robin’s eyes lit up with amusement, which only made Steve sigh in preparation for the inevitable annoyance she was about to be, “How the hell do you know her?”

“I don’t know her.” Steve insisted quickly, “I just started noticing her, that’s all.”

Robin’s expression grew giddier as she bumped her shoulder into his, “Then when are you going to try to get to know her?”

“I’m not.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Why?” Robin couldn’t help but grow invested in the scenario, especially because Steve was being so resistant to it, “What’s the harm in just talking to her?”

“I don’t know if I’m even into her, let alone if she’d give me the time of day.” Steve argued as if it were the most obvious thing.

“Only way to find out is to try.” Robin sing-songed, delighting in her best friend’s torment.

“And be on the receiving end of that glare again? Yeah, no thanks.” Robin shook her head at his stubbornness, prepared to keep up her taunts, but Steve spoke again before she got the chance to, “Look, drop it, I’m not gonna talk to her.”

“But aren’t you at least a little curious? Maybe she’s your soulmate.” Robin teased as Steve began walking again, all too invested in putting as much distance between you and him as possible. She had to jog a few steps just to catch up with him again, “Come on, Steve, just go for it.”

“I’m really not as interested as you think I am.” Steve argued as Robin looked back towards Spencer��s again briefly. She hummed with doubt, clearly not convinced by the disinterested front he put up; as Steve’s best friend, she decided it was her job to just give him the little nudge he needed, she just had to figure out how and when.

As if he could tell that she was scheming, Steve raised his brows with a warning look that was far from intimidating, “Robin, don’t.”

She continued to mull things over, quite intent on her new mission, but to appease Steve, she nodded noncommittally while rolling her eyes, “Sure, whatever, I’ll drop it…”

Eventually, Thanksgiving had come and gone; with the cold weather now a mainstay in Hawkins, you stupidly mourned the fact that Steve (and god how you wish you could just forget that name) was now wearing pants instead of those little shorts. Despite your best efforts not to think about him too much, you could no longer resist letting him cross your mind from time to time.

Around that same time that the shorts were retired for the coming winter, your manager had roped you into a supervisor role that you didn’t even want; it was more thrust upon you once they began hiring seasonal staff to help with the influx of holiday customers. This meant that you were constantly swamped with tasks, overworked and underpaid as you seemed to spend every damn day at Starcourt covering shifts or counting inventory or arguing with the delivery guys over damaged shipments.

And all for a minimum wage position at some gag store like Spencer’s freaking Gifts? You decided that you may have to do some job hunting once the holidays had come to an end.

To top it all off, you were now stuck short staffed for the closing shift on Christmas Eve thanks to two employees calling out “sick;” really, you thought it was ridiculous that Starcourt was even open on the holiday, but nothing was going to stop capitalism America from catering to those last-minute, needy shoppers.

Honestly, you didn’t celebrate the holiday, so it wasn’t as if being at work was keeping you from family or friends or parties - but you really weren’t excited to deal with argumentative customers and theft and the impatient crowds of people who simply couldn’t be bothered to do their shopping any sooner. That was the kind of shit that was bound to make you rip your hair out.

But, alas, here you were, trying to keep it together as shoppers crammed into the small store, ruining displays, asking for price checks, being rude and dismissive with the kids at the registers. It was exactly the kind of chaos you were expecting, and yet somehow it was even more insufferable than you had prepared yourself for.

Considering that you were the keyholder for tonight, you tried your damnedest to keep the ship known as Spencer’s afloat - you were all too happy to get confrontational with rude customers, get your fellow employees off the registers when it was clear shit was becoming too much, ran back and forth from the stockroom to the store floor in your best effort to keep the shelves full. The stress of it all dared to turn you into an addict of some kind, because right now you could definitely use a fix of something that you couldn’t even name.

The shop was only set to be open for another half hour, and although the crowd had thinned, there were still far too many customers here for your liking - at this rate, you’d be stuck at work half the night just trying to get everyone out of here and get the store closed properly. At least the staff looked less stressed than before, at least you had the chance to breathe between shopper complaints and demands, though that did little to alleviate your frustrations.

As you were busy putting out the last few boxes of He-Man figures that had been flying off the shelf all goddamn night, you could sense someone approaching you from the corner of your eye, a question hurriedly leaving their lips before you even had a chance to greet them.

“Would it be a little vulgar if someone gave this as a gift to the person they were interested in?” Your brow furrowed as you met the eyes of a girl about your age, her freckled face cute and friendly as she held out a pillow in the shape of tits. You looked back and forth between the gag pillow and her face a few times; although you were exhausted by the day you had, something about her question dared to amuse you, as if she knew that you needed some kind of pick-me-up.

And it had almost worked, too, until you noticed the man who had followed just a step behind her; he dragged his hand down his face uncomfortably, shaking his head while hissing her name frantically beneath his breath. His posture suggested he was exacerbated - as if he didn’t want to be here or as if they’d already had this conversation or as if he was embarrassed. It then took you another split second to realize who he was, as he wasn’t wearing that familiar uniform that you’d been trying and failing to ignore for months.

It was Steve.

Your expression instantly sobered as he looked between you and the girl, his panicky, apologetic gaze making you nervous instantly. Just like you had done nearly half a dozen times since learning of Steve’s existence, you impulsively glowered at him as if to dismiss your fears, although you immediately cursed yourself for doing something so stupid.

But maybe he didn’t notice, because his attention was already on the girl instead, brows raised with surprise at her behavior, his attitude akin to that of a scolding parent tired of their kid’s shit, “Jesus, Robin, really?”

Robin shrugged defensively, although there seemed to be some kind of knowing amusement in her eyes, a twinkle of mischief, “Well, I wanted a second opinion.”

“Oh yeah, sure you did.”

You looked between the duo awkwardly, not wanting to walk away considering that you were on the clock, but so wishing to be anywhere but here right now, as you could feel your face growing warm simply because Steve was standing right here in front of you.

In a measly attempt to calm your nerves, you returned focus to the box of figures you’d been unloading just a few moments ago. Beside you, the two bickered in hushed tones, just quiet enough that you weren’t really sure what the problem was or what they were saying to one another.

You took a deep breath through your nose, pressing your lips together as you put the last Skeletor up on the shelf; you had to decide if you were going to leave them to their squabbling or try to assist them. And for whatever reason, you chose professionalism over your selfish desire to get the hell out of dodge.

“Depends on how well you know the person.” You said plainly, cutting through their spat and quieting the both of them. You picked up the now empty box while looking from one pretty face to the other, your gaze tired from the long day that you’d had, “If they’re already a friend, hopefully they’ll laugh, but some fake tits probably won’t make someone interested in you.”

Your nose scrunched as you mulled over the girl’s question again, looking down at the stupid pillow that was dangling forgotten in her hand. A silent conversation was clearly happening between Robin and Steve, if their expressive faces were anything to go on. You sighed deeply, closing your eyes for a moment to compose yourself - it was damn near closing time, and the last thing you needed was to be stressing out over the guy that you did not have a crush on. He was just nice to look at, that’s all, though having him here just a few feet in front of you made you antsy as all get-out.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” You asked dully, drawing their attention back to you; you tried not to swallow nervously under the inviting warmth of those deep brown eyes.

Although he looked about ready to say something, Robin spoke first, her tone purposeful to the point that it was suspicious, “Actually, if you don’t mind, Steve here was looking at something behind the counter; could you show it to him?”

Steve shot Robin a look that seemed to be either a threat or a plea, and you continued to look between them with doubt, uncertainty, and trepidation; your shift had already been ridiculous as it is, and whatever shenanigans were clearly going on here was the last thing you wanted to worry about. Once again, you could see some kind of conflict happening even without any words being spoken between them.

So, you sighed decisively, shaking your head a little, “I’ll meet you up at the counter whenever you’re ready.”

You ducked into the storeroom to discard your empty box, taking a moment to breathe and relax before peeking out the door to see if your walking away had prompted Steve and Robin to leave or if they were still lingering around somewhere. A muttered “fuck” passed between your lips as you saw them clearly bickering near the front entrance, as if one wanted to go and one wanted to stay. You rolled your eyes up towards the ceiling because of course this would happen to you tonight, obviously the one person you’d been mildly attracted to recently would show up at your workplace when you were at your most stressed. So damn typical.

Collecting yourself, you walked from the storeroom towards the front counter, curious if they’d actually come up to look at whatever the hell Steve was supposedly interested in; really, you were hoping they’d just give up and leave, it would certainly make your night easier. You tried your damnedest to not look back over in their direction, letting the other customers serve as a much needed distraction, ringing up their purchases and trying to shoo them out and close shop as quickly as possible.

You were starting to think that the rush to lock up the store for the night had dissuaded Steve and Robin, because you couldn’t see either of them from your vantage point at the checkout counter. And by some miracle, you didn’t have any customers in need of assistance - at least for the moment - so you let your shoulders deflate, a relieved sigh escaping you. Less than ten minutes and you’d be able to lock the doors.

But your luck had run out almost immediately, because you saw someone coming up to the counter from the corner of your eye; preparing yourself, you took a deep breath and turned, though your confidence had withered away the moment you met their eyes.

Steve approached you alone, Robin nowhere in sight, which made your nerves even worse than before. His mouth was open as if he was about to speak, but no words were coming out, looking like he was frozen beneath your gaze; you had to resist that impulsive urge to glare, though you were certain you nonetheless didn’t look terribly approachable.

He leaned stiffly against the counter, trying his best to look easy and unbothered despite clearly feeling the opposite. You simply stared for a moment, unsure of yourself, before you managed to pull it together at least briefly.

“What was it that you wanted to look at?” You asked in your monotonous customer service voice, bracing your hands on the counter as if that could keep you calm and steady.

“There wasn’t actually anything,” Steve finally found his voice as he looked nervously between your eyes. Your brow curved up curiously, though a part of you had nearly suspected that answer.

“Yeah, I figured.” Your tone came off colder than you intended, and it caused apprehension to immediately flashed across Steve’s face. Realizing your mistake, you looked around yourself before rounding the counter, walking purposefully as if you had something else you needed to be doing, though all you were really doing was trying to escape. You could feel Steve following, the crowded shelves of merchandise forcing him into nearly too close proximity behind you.

“Sometimes Robin just says things, you know, she can be funny like that.” Steve explained as your expression furrowed, wondering what his deal was. You stopped walking abruptly, causing Steve to bump right into you, ill-prepared for the sudden halt. As he quickly apologized, he steadied his hands on your shoulders for the briefest of seconds, just as suddenly snatching them away as if he’d been burned by you.

You spun around to face Steve, his body so close to yours that you practically bumped noses in the process; your eyes widened nervously, taking in his handsome face as you tried to keep yourself composed. Steve’s string of repeated “sorry”s tapered off, his mouth ajar as his eyes grew larger, too, gaze bouncing around your face rapidly.

“Well,” You started in what you hoped was a confident, disinterested tone, “we close in about five minutes… so if you plan on buying something, you should probably go check out.”

Steve nodded dumbly as he looked between your eyes before he dropped his gaze towards the ground; you realized he had absolutely no merchandise in hand, “Uh huh, yeah, I’ll do that.”

You licked your lip, taking in the pretty way his hair fell in his face and the unsure look in his eyes. For a moment, you became engrossed in him, feeling your own expression soften the longer you stared. But just as quickly, you shook yourself out of it, trying to speak with an air of finality that simply didn’t land, “I… hope you have a good holiday?”

Steve looked up at you through his lashes, though you turned quickly to continue walking away before you could get caught up in his eyes. But apparently he wasn’t ready for the conversation to end just yet, because he followed after you and continued, “Sorry, wait--”

You paused with a deep, nervous sigh, getting more and more edgy as the moments ticked by. What could this clean-cut, vanilla guy possibly want with someone like you?

You spun again, crossing your arms comfortingly in front of you while raising a brow; you realized after you’d done it that you probably looked pissed and defensive rather than nervous. When you didn’t say anything, Steve tripped over himself while trying to find his words, cheeks tinged with pink as he looked anywhere but your eyes.

“Look, I know I’m holding you up and you probably want to get home to your family or a boyfriend or something, I mean, it’s Christmas Eve, of course you’d have plans,” he started quickly, and there was something so damn charming about it that you couldn’t help the way your eyes lit up, gaze softening as you studied him; even still, your heart beat quickly inside your chest, “but I just, uh, I’ve seen you around the mall and thought I’d… introduce myself.”

Steve finally looked between your eyes again, and it appeared that your expression only made him more anxious, because he began yet another spiel, “God, that makes it sound like I just go around introducing myself to every damn person in the mall. I don’t - honestly that would be a lot of work - I mean that I wanted to talk to you specifically, you know.”

You couldn’t help the surprised grin that tugged at the corner of your mouth, absolutely taken aback by the unexpected personality behind the handsome face. Considering that you’d only ever watched Steve from afar and barely interacted with him once before, you let yourself think he was some uninteresting, dull guy. That little assumption made it so much easier to ignore the desire to stare at him, to forget about him more often than not. Now that you were so close and seeing his actual personality come through, he was, unfortunately, winning you over far too easily for your liking.

“Oh, you’re smiling, that’s good,” Steve said, his eyes growing larger as if he hadn’t planned on saying that out loud. Pushing his hair back in a fluid motion, he looked around the store while trying to take a deep breath, “You’re kinda scary, you know that?”

An unexpected laugh escaped you, your rigid posture relaxing a hair more, “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Steve held up his hands as if he were approaching a skittish animal.

“I know.” You responded without thinking; once again, your goddamn nerves were making you come across like a total bitch, “Uh, usually it makes people less interested in talking to me.”

There was something of a frenzied look in Steve’s eyes, and you realized that maybe your blunt attitude was causing him panic. His posture had grown a touch more tense than it already was, and your fear of fucking up was causing a chaos of butterflies in your chest.

But in that same moment, you remembered that you were still on the clock and desperate to close the store, your mind going back into work mode as you hissed a small “shit” beneath your breath.

“Look, I gotta close,” You started, catching the way Steve’s face fell in defeat. You quickly added in what you hoped was a more friendly tone than the one you’d been using all night, “but, uh… it was nice talking to you.”

Your expression furrowed with uncertainty, looking between Steve’s eyes as you awaited a possible acceptance or rejection to what you just said. Mirrored back to you was his own trepidation and doubt, as if he hadn’t quite understood what you said.

When he didn’t respond right away, you raised your brows questioningly, “Maybe… we’ll chat sometime?”

The question prompted Steve to nod quickly with a slightly improved look on his face, though he still seemed dumbfounded, “Yeah yeah, totally.”

You stared at each other for a long, awkward minute, neither really knowing what to say or do next. The tension between you filled your head with concern, and you were growing more and more confused the longer that you lingered.

“Well, uh… bye.” You said dumbly before awkwardly turning your back, walking deeper into the store so you could take even just a minute to calm the fuck down. You pulled a critical face at your own stupid behavior, muttering about how crudely you handled that pathetic excuse of a conversation. You tried to shake it off, knowing that you still had to get the rest of the customers moving so you could lock the damn doors, but you feared Steve would be a nagging little distraction in your mind until you finally made it back home.

Despite knowing better, you couldn’t help but look back over your shoulder apprehensively - you weren’t sure if you wanted to meet Steve’s eyes, or if you were hoping he’d already walked away. A jolt of anxiety shot up your spine when you found that he was still watching you, looking to be in deep consideration as if he was trying to make sense of that frazzling interaction. You both startled and turned away from each other at the same time, and all you could wonder is if you had fucked up enough that you’d scared Steve away.

When you finally had Spencer’s closed for the evening, you walked out in a group with your coworkers, everyone bracing themselves for the cold, teeth chattering and arms shivering. The parking lot was still littered with a couple dozen cars as you all moved together - clearly other Starcourt employees were stuck working even later than you.

You were barely listening to the eager conversation happening between the others, who were discussing their plans for the holiday; stupidly, you were still hung up on your conversation with Steve. Your day had already been stressful and shitty, so totally biffing that interaction was yet one more dumb notch in your belt. You really shouldn’t have gotten yourself worked up over it, but your nerves clearly had other plans, because now it was the only thing you could think about whether you liked it or not.

The group eventually all went their separate ways as you continued meandering to your stupid little car, not in any rush to get back home. Packed snow crunched beneath your feet as pretty flakes stuck to your face and hair; although it was cold, the night was still and the temperature almost soothing after the long day you’d had.

Unlocking your car, you carelessly tossed your bag into the passenger seat and slid behind the wheel, fumbling with the key as you tried to slot it into the ignition. But once you turned the key, all you got was a sad sputtering sound from the engine, which filled you with instantaneous dread. You paused for a moment before trying again, yet once more, the car wouldn’t start.

Really? One more goddamn thing to worry about tonight. Grumbling and huffing, you kicked the door open again and popped the hood of the car, though what you were looking for you had no idea - you knew absolutely nothing about cars, hell, you could barely put air in the tires without it becoming a whole goddamn ordeal.

With your hands braced on the lifted hood, you stared down into the old engine as if you’d miraculously figure out what needed to be done; you tried to take deep, calm breaths so that you wouldn’t freak out unnecessarily, but you could feel that impulse slowly bubbling up inside you.

To let out some of the frustration, you kicked the front bumper, your heavy boot protecting you from feeling any pain on impact. Your arms fell with defeat to your sides, because, unfortunately, simply staring at the engine did nothing to resolve the problem.

Around you, other cars left the parking lot slowly, but no one made an effort to stop and offer you assistance, not that you were really expecting any help to begin with. Headlights reflected off the glistening snowy surfaces, frost and ice crackled under tires, and you stood there like some sad, pathetic ghost of Christmas whatever-the-fuck.

“Need a hand?” A voice called from behind you, taking you by surprise, considering that you assumed the driver was simply going to pass by and ignore you. You sighed deeply to get your stress under control, because without looking you already knew exactly who it was that offered you assistance; at this rate, it was damn near ridiculous and ironic that he’d be the one to show up to your rescue.

You turned slowly to face Steve, hoping you didn’t look too pathetic as a small glare settled in your eyes. He hung out the window of his car, brow knotted with worry as he looked between you and your shitty vehicle; you leaned your rear against the front of your car, crossing your arms to protect yourself from both the cold and Steve.

“You’re not following me, are you?” You jested with little amusement, because what else were you supposed to do after the shitty day you’d had?

“Not on purpose.” Steve answered simply, pulling in next to you and putting his car in park, “Battery?”

You shrugged with a melodramatic sweep of your arms, a defeated, sad laugh escaping you, “Who fucking knows.”

There was a decisiveness to Steve’s expression as he climbed out of his vehicle and popped the hood, opening the trunk and digging out some jumper cables. The focused look on his face helped to ease you despite the way your night was going, and it very nearly made you smile through your frustrations.

“Well, let’s hope this works.” Steve said as he hooked up the cables, double checking his work along the way to make sure he didn’t blow up either engine. Eventually, he pointed towards your driver door, “See if we can get this started up.”

You nodded quickly as the two of you slid into your respective driver's seats, Steve starting his car up first; but after three attempts, your damn car still wouldn’t start, and you slumped back into the seat, groaning loudly while tugging at your hair in frustration; god, what kind of shit luck were you dealt?

Steve came up and leaned in the open door frame, eyes sympathetic as he gazed down at you; you didn’t even have the energy to be nervous about his close proximity or the gentleness of his gaze. A weak laugh escaped you as you shook your head, “As if tonight couldn't get any worse.”

You met Steve’s eyes, looking between them pitifully as the cold of the evening began to seep into your bones. He stared back sympathetically, his expression troubled by the fact that he couldn’t fix the problem for you. Despite all your earlier nerves and awkwardness around him, all you felt right now was amity between you two.

“Thanks for trying.” You sighed, resting your head back and staring absently at the ripped and tattered ceiling. You swallowed down the upset lump in your throat, “I meant what I said earlier - about wanting to chat sometime, I mean.”

A faint smile graced Steve’s lips as he glanced down at his feet a moment, meeting your eyes again kindly, “Bet you weren’t expecting it to go like this, though.”

You shook your head while closing your eyes as a smirk dared to tug at the corner of your mouth, “Not in the slightest…”

Steve wet his lips as his brow furrowed again, looking around at the parking lot that was growing emptier as the minutes ticked by. His face was contemplative for a long beat before he brought his attention back to you while taking a deep breath, “Let me give you a ride.”

You balked at the suggestion, shaking your head quickly, “You really don’t have to do that, I’ve caused you enough trouble--”

“What else am I supposed to do, leave you stranded here?” Steve interrupted, raising his brows for emphasis, waving his hand in a “follow me” motion as he stepped back. You stayed planted in your seat, watching him with uncertainty; Steve gave you another look when you didn’t follow, “Come on; gives us a chance to chat some more, right?”

You hesitated a couple moments longer, but eventually you scooped up your bag and stiffly climbed out of the car; Steve was already in the process of unhooking the cables and closing your hood. As you awkwardly stood there waiting for him to finish, he studied you from the corner of his eye, which prompted your brows to furrow as you went on the defensive.

“You better not be kidnapping me.” Your statement caused Steve to laugh and shake his head at how ridiculous that notion was; he closed the hood of his car next and rounded to the driver’s side.

“You’re scary, remember? I don’t have the balls to kidnap you.” You couldn’t help but smile gaily at his response, which seemed to please Steve, as an equally delighted look crossed his face, “Oh, another smile, good.”

You rolled your eyes, though you were nonetheless still fascinated by how nervous Steve seemed to be around you. As you stared at him for a brief moment, he chewed the inside of his cheek and made another hand gesture before ducking into his car, “Come on, it’s getting cold.”

So, you followed his lead and slid into the passenger seat, though once you closed the door it was like another wave of tension washed over you - stupid as it seemed, you found there to be something so personal about being alone in a car with someone you barely knew. Your posture grew stiff almost instantly, eyes staring straight ahead into the snowy night as Steve cranked up the heat and began a slow crawl across the parking lot.

“Where am I heading?” Steve asked while glancing over at you; you kept your eyes forward as you told him your neighborhood. For a very long minute, the two of you were silent as the strangeness of this scenario dawned on you both. Steve cleared his throat, “Sorry about earlier.”

You glanced over at him with a confused look, trying not to shrink nervously when he turned to face you, “What do you mean?”

“I was bothering you at work,” he started with a shrug, “kinda wasted your time.”

Timidly, you looked back towards him again, thankful that his eyes were back on the road, “You weren’t bothering me.”

Steve made a face as if he didn’t believe you, “Yeah? Could’ve fooled me.”

You hummed in acknowledgement of your earlier attitude, forcing yourself to be a little more communicative so he couldn’t misinterpret you again, “We didn’t really get the time to talk much… and I was nervous.”

Steve laughed, an inviting sound that drew both an amused and confused look across your face. He glanced at you again, shaking his head humorously, “You, nervous? That’s not the impression I got at all.”

The corner of your mouth tugged up as your eyes looked about his face, “Then what impression did you get?”

Steve took a breath, searching for the right way to phrase this, “That you didn’t want to talk to me in the slightest.”

“Oh.” You answered dumbly; when Steve shot you another look from the corner of his eyes, you tried to find your words, “No, I did want to talk to you… just didn’t know how.”

A far too charming smile spread across his lips as he turned to you again, “Didn’t know how?”

“You’re a little scary, too.” You shrugged with a faint grin, which grew larger at the amused twinkle in Steve’s eyes; again, he laughed, a sound that you could easily get used to.

“Never been told I was scary before…” He focused on the road for a long beat, fingers lightly drumming on the steering wheel as he mulled that thought over. Evidently, it prompted another question, because he gave you another curious glance, “Why were you scared of me?”

Your brows rose as you opened your mouth, but you hesitated before any words could come out. Nerves started to drum in your chest again as you felt heat rising up your neck and into your cheeks; and with the way Steve patiently kept looking over at you, the heat became even worse, “I, uh… no reason.”

Steve’s face twisted with suspicion at your lack of an explanation, narrowed eyes shooting a critical look in your direction. Feeling the intensity of his stare, you kept your unblinking gaze on the road, watching the snow falling gently in front of you.

Steve mulled your answer over, recalling that first day he caught you staring, the time you came to Scoops, and finally your first conversation earlier this evening; of course he could suspect reasons for why you would be nervous or hesitant, but he also wasn’t stupid enough to assume anything about you either.

“Well,” he cleared his throat, drawing on all that confidence he once harbored back when he was still King Steve, when he could land any girl he set his sights on. Though that was a side of him that he hadn’t seen nearly this entire year, he figured he had to shoot his shot eventually, “I can tell you why I was scared…”

The way he trailed off made you curious, although there was something dubious about it. You looked back towards him with a knot between your brows, and now that he had your attention, Steve’s face lit up, his smile almost causing you to drop your guard.

“I’ll tell you, but then you have to tell me why you were scared.” You shook your head with an unamused laugh, knowing that when the other shoe dropped it would be something like this. Despite yourself, you grinned, still falling for Steve’s charm even when he had you backed into a metaphorical corner.

“Oh, you wanna know real bad, huh?” You teased, because really that was your only defense between Steve and the nervousness that was crawling over you again. He gave you a short nod, his expression taunting and challenging.

“I mean, the least you could do is tell me, considering that I’m giving you a ride and all…” Steve’s unexpected playfulness took you aback, causing you to gape for a moment, which only seemed to amuse him even more. You tried to relax your expression, to put up a front of disinterest, but it was far too late for that, “So?”

You rolled your eyes and smirked, even as your heart stuttered; shit, you did not want to tell Steve what you thought of him. Maybe you could come up with a convincing lie, or maybe you could just intimidate him again until he gave up. But admitting to the fact that maybe you were crushing on him, that this ordinary pretty boy was somehow winning you over? Nope, that was something you did not want to do.

And yet… why had he come to talk to you in the first place? Why did he want to introduce himself, why was he so willing to help you on Christmas Eve when he should be off somewhere with family or a partner? Your curiosity was growing by the minute.

“Fine.” The word left your mouth before you could second guess it. Steve looked at you almost in disbelief, as if he had convinced himself you wouldn’t take the bait; you stared back, hoping your eyes didn’t give away your hesitation. Despite the warmth in the car, you shivered with nerves and apprehension.

Steve swallowed while looking back towards the road, nodding faintly to himself as he considered whatever the hell was going on in his head. You waited, impatience making you fidgety as your eyes practically burnt a hole in the side of his head.

“How much further to your place?” Your expression twisted with surprise, anticipation put to an abrupt halt thanks to the whiplash that came with the question. You studied Steve for a moment before realizing that maybe he was trying to buy some time or simply avoid the subject all together. Now, you were growing evermore curious, opening and closing your mouth smally as you considered whether or not you’d play along.

“Um, five minutes up the road.” You answered, trying to shake yourself from your mild stupor. Steve simply nodded, and you couldn’t help the way you leaned towards him just a little as if you were studying a newly discovered species, “What, you scared now?”

“No.” Steve looked back at you, “Just wanna make sure I don’t miss your house.”

Your faint smile and narrowed eyes made it clear that you didn’t believe him, though he tried to remain convincing. Slumping back into your seat a little, you kept your eyes locked on Steve, studying him and looking for evidence of hesitation. Considering it was per his suggestion that you agreed to admit anything, you couldn’t help but suspect that it was nerves that got to him, regardless of what he said.

Realizing that your brief time with Steve was soon to come to a close, you frowned forlornly, gaze dropping from his face. Considering that this whole night had been a little weird, you weren’t sure why you were so disappointed that it would end, but… perhaps that was because it felt like something was only just beginning, cheesy as that sounded. A part of you felt that if shit stopped now, it wouldn’t get to start up again - whether that was true or not didn’t matter.

Your heart picked up speed in your chest as you turned your eyes back towards Steve, words spilling from your lips before you could even realize what you were saying, “Can we just drive for a bit?”

Steve’s brows rose in surprise as he looked back over at you, his lips parting as if he had a question to ask, though no words came out. Suddenly embarrassed by your silly request, you raised your hands up as if in surrender, though your tone ended up being defensive.

“I mean, only if you’ve got nothing going on. Stupid of me to ask considering it’s Christmas Eve, but I’ve got nothing to go home to so I just thought…”

You weren’t sure what you thought, that was the whole problem. The look on Steve’s face was tough to read as he considered what you said, and, feeling foolish, you melted into your seat a little as your face twisted self-consciously.

“Let’s drive.” Steve finally said with a certainty to his tone, taking you aback as he gave you a winning look, “Where to?”

You shrugged dumbly, still trying to fend off your chagrin. Steve took you in for a moment before returning his eyes to the road and driving towards an unknown destination.

Only a minute later, he broke through the silence again, “So, is no one home?”

You shook your head, though you realized he almost certainly didn’t see it, “Dad works nights.”

Steve opened his mouth to add something, but stopped to mull it over first, “My parents are out of town. No one’s waiting for me at home, either.”

Although your brows drooped down, you gave a good humored smile as you two met eyes, “Hm, and they didn’t take you?”

“They never do.” Steve smirked and rolled his eyes, though you suspected that a part of him wasn’t nearly as okay with that as he led you to believe.

For a long beat, you studied him in silence, enjoying his profile as he focused on the road; you took in the thoughtful look in his eyes, the inviting shape of his lips, the downturn of his brows. God, you shouldn’t have been feeling all these butterflies thanks to some guy you only just met, and yet they became harder to ignore the longer you stared at Steve’s pretty face.

He, too, looked towards you when he had the chance and took you in closely, making you squirm as his dark eyes trailed from your eyes to your lips, down your neck and body before jumping back up. Lucky for you, he still had to drive, otherwise you may have melted under his intense, deliberate gaze.

About a minute into the silence that settled between you two, Steve turned up the radio, just enough to have background noise but not too loud to be disruptive. Coming through the speakers was some classic Christmas song that made you cringe; as if he caught your averse reaction, Steve switched stations, though the pop rock that took its place was no relief to you. You tried to ignore the music, not wanting to be sour about something as unimportant as that.

Although you still felt tense given the quiet that was stretching out between you and Steve, there was a certain comfort in the silence; driving down an empty road, snow falling gently, and a cute boy to keep you company wasn’t half bad.

Again, you found yourself studying Steve’s features, questions and inquiries coming to mind as the minutes passed - what were his hobbies? Was he from Hawkins, or was he a transplant like you? What were his friends like? Hell, what even was his last name? So many things you could ask, and you didn’t know where to start.

Well, there was one place to start, if you were feeling a little mischievous, but even the thought of it made you anxious and antsy all over again.

“Why were you scared earlier?” You blurted out, your own brows rising in surprise; maybe you had to get a better hold of your nerves, else you might keep saying things without thinking.

Steve shot you an apprehensive glance, though he tried to mask it with a smile, “Ah, so my distraction didn’t work.”

“Not in the slightest.” You grinned even as your nerves made it appear sheepish and noncommittal, “And don’t just say it’s because of the whole goth thing.”

“Well, not the whole goth thing,” Steve teased, pleased with himself when he caught you fighting back an amused look. After a moment, though, he sighed smally, looking around at the neighborhood he was driving through; apparently knowing where he was, he took a turn with some destination inevitably in mind.

You pulled a curious face when Steve didn’t elaborate, when his face settled into a decided look; you considered asking again for fear that he was going to find a means of distracting you once more from the question. But quickly enough, Steve pulled into the lot next to a park - it’s playground covered in snow - and you started growing nervous all over again.

With the car in park, Steve finally turned his undivided attention to you, causing you to unintentionally shrink back in your seat a little; there was a sort of safety that had come with him being preoccupied by driving, but now that his eyes were locked on you, your confidence began to diminish just a bit.

The look on his face held a sincerity that took you aback, and even in the relative dark of the night you could see the unsure gleam in his eyes. He took a deep breath before admitting plainly and assuredly, “I was scared because you were cute and intimidating.”

You blinked at him a couple of times as you processed his words, though they made your heart drum loudly enough that it was damn near distracting. As the seconds ticked by and you didn’t respond, briefly stuck in a dumbfounded look, Steve’s expression slowly fell into a look of dismay.

Getting antsy, he fumbled to elaborate, “I was interested in you, is what I mean. I wanted to get to know you, maybe flirt and see if we were compatible, you know, that sort of thing.”

Stupidly, you blinked at him again, feeling heat rising in your face - fuck, he thought you were cute, too. That should’ve been a relief, so why the hell did it make you even more nervous than you were before? You forced yourself to look away from his face as your eyes got big, because shit the butterflies in your stomach were going absolutely crazy right about now.

“You… were interested in me…” You muttered like a total idiot, but at least you finally found your voice again. Gazing up at him through your lashes, the look on Steve’s face was damn near worried as if he were preparing himself for rejection. Chewing on the inside of your lip, you finally smiled, bashfully dropping your gaze even as you tried not to sound as nervous as you felt, “I thought you were cute, too. Never had the guts to talk to you, though.”

A relieved little laugh leapt from Steve’s throat, his posture relaxing as he stared at you wide-eyed, almost as if he didn’t entirely believe you. Looking back up at Steve made your face and ears grow even hotter, his excitement at your response unexpected but nonetheless encouraging, even as you picked at your nails nervously.

“Oh, thank god, that makes this so much easier,” Steve breathed out, causing you to giggle, a delighted sound that was so unlike you.

As Steve continued to stare at you with disbelief, you tried to stop fidgeting with your fingernails, tried to relax the nervous energy in your chest because yes, this should be easier like he said, yet your body’s reaction would lead one to assume you were in all-out panic mode.

“You didn’t have the guts?” Steve asked with a laugh, “You saw how nervous I was to talk to you, right?”

You rolled your eyes with a fond shake of your head, “At least you did it; I figured a pretty guy like you wouldn’t be interested in me.”

“I thought you wouldn’t be interested in me.” Steve found himself staring at your lips, the temptation to lean over and kiss you coming over him abruptly, though he tried to shove it aside and ignore it, “So, I guess maybe I should ask you out now, right?”

You nearly giggled again as you looked between his eyes with a pondering expression, “I mean, we’re already here - alone, getting to know each other…”

Steve laughed smally, his eyes taking you in, “Oh, so this is a date now?”

You raised your hands in a vague, unsure motion, a faint knot between your brow, “Could be?”

Another charming smile crossed Steve’s lips, and you were still astounded at the fact that you could make him grin and laugh so damn easily. The look on his face was sweet as his gaze swept gently over your face, looking between your eyes and your mouth like he was studying you closely; when he finally drew his attention away, it was to stare out the windshield and watch the snow fall.

“You're not what I expected,” he started as you absently began to fiddle with your nails again, “I was worried you’d be mean, or that you’d laugh at me.”

An embarrassed smile drew across your lips as you took the opportunity to enjoy his profile again, “If I didn’t like you, I would’ve been mean… and I did laugh at you, once, when I first saw those stupid shorts you used to wear.”

A chuckle leapt from Steve’s throat as he looked back at you, “Yeah, they’re kinda ridiculous, aren’t they?”

“Your entire uniform is ridiculous.” You laughed gleefully, “But I… liked it.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed teasingly, “Oh, so that’s why you were staring.”

Easily flustered, you diverted your gaze down towards your hands, focusing on the chipped nail polish that you’d been fussing with, your face growing hot yet again,“Well, I just… yeah, okay, that’s why I was staring.”

Steve leaned in close towards you, dipping his head to try and catch your eyes, “If you hadn’t been staring, I wouldn’t have noticed you.”

You glanced up through your lashes, a faint grin on your lips as you met Steve’s attentive stare, “Then I guess we’re both lucky you have nice legs.”

Steve laughed again with utter amusement, something almost like wonder alight in his eyes; you thought he may have leaned in a little bit closer, but you weren’t quite sure. He glanced down at your hands briefly, watching the way you continued to gently scratch at your nail polish before meeting your eyes.

“I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you’re a little strange.” Your brows rose at the comment, and so Steve continued, “Well, wait, don’t get mad about that. What I’m saying is that your energy is really nervous, but you don’t come across like you’re scared at all, you know what I mean?”

You looked between Steve’s eyes, wondering how he had managed to clock you so damn easily. Your nail picking became a little more aggressive as you came to your own defense, feeling jittery as you spoke quickly, “Yeah, I know I can come across pretty bitchy when I’m nervous, it’s landed me in trouble before. I don’t always think when I speak or I don’t know when to shut up, because my head gets all messy and loud, so it’s impossible to think clearly anyway--”

“Can I kiss you?” Steve blurted out with awe in his voice, disrupting your train of thought and causing you to look back at him with large eyes. He even looked surprised at the question, as if it leapt from his mouth without warning or thought; his expression was much like your own, taken aback and confused. He quickly tried to course correct, raising his hands defensively, “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that, that was totally out of left field--”

“Yes.” Steve paused and looked as if he didn’t hear you correctly, brow furrowed while trying to read the look on your face, which was torn between sheepishness and eagerness, “I’d like it if you kissed me, actually.”

Steve, admittedly, had not anticipated your approval of the idea, especially considering how it was asked. He just got so hung up on how damn cute your rambling was that it drew him like a moth to a flame; he wasn’t thinking when the question left his mouth. Shit, you said “yes” and it made his nerves spike, heartbeat eager in his chest as he took in your features a little longer, biding his time so he could calm down.

From where he leaned over the center console, Steve moved in a little closer, looking between your eyes and lips. You mirrored this as if in a trance, body drawing towards him; when you paused, a smile graced his lips as he said firmly but quietly, “Come here.”

You felt a chill up your spine thanks to the simple yet wanton direction, Steve’s delivery of it far more enticing than he probably realized. Despite wanting to kiss him, you felt momentarily frozen as you took him in, hooded eyes becoming enraptured by his lips.

Coming back to yourself, you took a calming breath and moved in closer, and once you were but a few breaths apart, Steve carefully cupped the back of your neck, fingertips grazing through your hair. The touch made you sigh longingly, your body melting in response; a knowing smile graced Steve’s face.

There was a moment’s hesitation between you as Steve’s warm breath brushed across your lips and cheeks; you swallowed down the lump in your throat just before Steve leaned in, closing that short distance between you to capture your lips with his own.

Your body jolted at the feel of his kiss, so soft and tentative, and yet charged with your combined pining for one another. As your body relaxed despite the frantic beating of your heart, your fingertips trailed up Steve’s arm, gently grabbing at his shoulders through the fabric of his coat. His mouth was tender and explorative against yours, touch gentle on the back of your neck as he pressed forth more confidently; you met him with equal need and curiosity, your body growing eager for more as your nerves slowly dissolved away.

When Steve tried to pull back and catch his breath, your grasp became assertive, fingers tightening on his sleeve as your other hand moved to cup his cheek. You felt a small, surprised laugh in his throat, taken aback by your eagerness, though he was just as enamored by it.

He carefully gripped your jaw with both hands, pulling you back just enough for him to take in a gasp of air; you, too, took a deep breath, delighting in the way his lips grazed against yours, the way his thumb lazily trailed along your cheek.

After a beat of consideration, Steve kissed you again needily, fingertips firm along your jawline as a fire lit up inside you. Your lips grew feverish as you leaned in closer, curling your fingers in his soft locks while an eager sound rose in your throat. As you kissed him with zeal, Steve matched your desire, mouth growing urgent against yours, grip becoming increasingly possessive while his tongue trailed along your lower lip. With another hungry sigh, you opened your mouth to him, tongues swirling together impatiently, desperate for one another.

You pushed closer to Steve, though the center console pressed irritatingly into your stomach, causing a faint sound of annoyance to rumble in your chest. Wanting to be so much closer, you broke away from the kiss abruptly, though his lips chased yours, gently nipping at your jawline as goosebumps broke out across your skin.

Finding your voice, you managed to instruct breathily, “Move your seat back.”

A huff of a laugh escaped Steve as he muttered against your neck, “What?”

You gave his hair a tug, directing him to look you in your lusty eye while repeating slowly, “Move the seat.”

He looked between your eyes for a moment before your reasoning dawned on him; he nodded quickly, pulling away so he could slide the seat back, creating enough space between him and the steering wheel for you to slot into. And you did just that, gracelessly crawling over the center console, careful not to crush Steve with wayward limbs or unsteady knees.

Once situated in his lap, you laughed smally at yourself while resting your hands comfortably on either side of his neck. Steve smiled at the way you bit your lip, hands firm as they settled on your hips; his hooded eyes took you in adoringly. Impatiently, your lips crashed onto Steve’s once more, feeling his fingers flex against you, eager little sounds escaping your throat.

Hooking your arms around Steve’s neck, you kissed him yearningly, his hands creating a hot, greedy trail down your back, pressing you flush against him as if he couldn’t get enough. The movement caused your hips to roll against his, making the both of you moan into the other’s mouth from the friction. The way your lips moved together was aching and salacious, tongues explorative and hands grabby as if trying to consume each other whole.

Even as he kissed you and groped at your body lewdly, there was something undeniably tender about Steve’s touch; his lips were endlessly hungry for yours, he held you close as if fearful of letting go. It caused a knot of arousal to twist in your stomach, your body blazing and impassioned after all these months of watching him and wondering what he tasted like.

Steve’s hands roamed your body in a slow, amorous crawl, teasing down your spine and grabbing at your ass, sending an eager shiver through you as if there weren’t all these layers of clothing keeping your skin separate from one another. Your mouths became even sloppier, kisses ravenous as you breathed each other in and tasted each other’s tongues, keen moans passing between your lips to his.

Your own grip at Steve’s neck and hair was growing possessive and domineering, tugging at his locks and scratching his skin enough that he whined shamelessly. Emboldened by the heat scorching between you, your hips rolled once more, slow and deep, making Steve’s fingers dig into the meat of your ass as he groaned; the sound was far too encouraging, causing a coil to tighten in your center. You moved to hold his jaw softly in either hand, breaking away from his lips hastily with a big gasp for air.

For a long beat, you stared at one another through lusty, hooded eyes, watching the way Steve licked his lip as he watched the rise and fall of your chest. His lips were so damn inviting, and you wanted to lean right back in for more, yet you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself, didn’t want to be greedy for more than you could take. Steve’s hands gently trailed up your back again, finding a comfortable resting place at your waist, where his fingers drew absentminded circles into the back of your coat.

While staring at Steve’s handsome face, an airy laugh fell from your mouth, your eyes lighting up softly; his brow furrowed in response, leaning forward to tease at your lips, nose gently bumping yours.

“What?” You could hear the grin in his whispered question, causing you to laugh again, your smile causing your lips to brush gently; the intimacy of the moment dared to give you butterflies as you nearly shivered.

You bit the inside of your cheek in an effort not to giggle again, pulling back from Steve so you could trail your thumb along his jaw and to his plush lower lip, “You got a little something…”

Steve looked as if he was about to ask you to elaborate, but the gentle way that you cleaned his lip with your thumb stalled him as a captivated sigh left his throat. He realized then what you meant, noticing the way your near-black lipstick had smudged around your mouth; he laughed, too, while trying not to moan from how much he enjoyed your sweet and careful touch. Once you were certain you’d gotten most of your lipstick off of him, you delicately held his chin as if to inspect your work.

“Is making out with you always going to be messy?” He teased, bringing a hand up to help you with a smear of lipstick that was under your nose. Your cheeks warmed as you fondly rolled your eyes, half-tempted to lean back in for another kiss as if to prove a point.

You hummed smally in your throat, “Only if it becomes a regular thing.”

Steve’s brows rose cheekily as a large smile spread across his face, “Oh, I plan for it to.”

Heat rose in your cheeks again as you bit your lip, laughing faintly while looking away from his eyes as if bashful, “Do you?”

He leaned towards you again, trying to catch your eyes with his, “Well, I’d still like to take you on a real date, so, yeah, I’m counting on this becoming a regular thing.”

Another uncharacteristic giggle left you as a swell of excitement filled your chest, “Then maybe I have to do something new with my lipstick so you’re not wearing it by the end of every date.”

Steve shook his head, hands gently sliding down your neck and to your back as he stared at your lips again, “Don’t change it, I like it too much.”

You leaned in close again, lips grazing with Steve’s as you whispered flirtatiously, “Good, because I think I like kissing you.”

Steve’s nose brushed gently against yours, his lashes tickling your skin as you felt a faint smile on his lips, “You think?”

“Might need to do a little more of it just to make sure.” You planted a teasing kiss against his lips before pulling back, which made his hands grip tight on you as if you were something coveted.

“Well,” Steve’s lips were gentle as they grazed against yours, his voice low and sweet as his fingertips trailed along your back, “should we make sure now? You’ve got me all night, if you want.”

You hummed as if you were mulling the suggestion over, hoping that you were making Steve antsy from the wait. You smiled fondly as your hands wove into his hair, tugging gently as your lips hovered just centimeters away from his; when he tried to kiss you, you pulled back tauntingly, causing a faint sound of impatience in Steve’s throat. Unable to resist the laugh that escaped you, you caved to his desire and you pressed your lips longingly to his.

Addt. Author's Note | I'm currently working on a follow-up to this oneshot because I just can't get enough of these two! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for that, please let me know, I hope to get it out soon!

Tags | @doomsdaybby @eddiernunson @k-yurieee @mediocredreams @raven-hawkins

@thecreelhouse @viviennemcgloine

#thetwelvedaysofpromptmas 🎄#thetwelvedaysofpromptmas #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things

274 notes · View notes

4ranghaes · 19 days ago

Note

Helloooooo! First off, I wanna start off by apologizing for stalking your page! It’s just so good I couldn’t stop reading all your posts! Especially gongfourz 3some was probably the best one I’ve ever read on here 😩😩

You mentioned before wanting to write dad au so, if it’s not too much to ask, what do you think bnd members would be like as dads? You don’t have to write about all of them but I’m thinking about Sungho in particular is absolutely a girl dad!! Have a wonderful day love 🫶🏽🫶🏽

ੈ��‧₊˚ bnd as dads!

ot5 bnd x reader [fluff, fem!mum!reader, dad!bnd]

warnings - post partum!reader in sungho’s, pregnant!reader in leehan’s and woonhak’s (leehan’s has pretty detailed descriptions of feeling the baby so i apologise if that’s not your style)

a/n 1 - NEVER apologise for stalking my account i LOVE it i LOVE receiving notifs🥰🥰🥰 and thank you SO much ahh thats crazy praise❤️❤️💕

a/n 2 - AHHHH okay!!! so these are my headcanons for the kids i already had - so i hope you enjoy!!!! i got SO carried away with this…

sungho🎀 [namgi = 6, changmin = 4, kyunghee = newborn]

“okay,” sungho said nervously, though the two boys holding his hands couldn’t detect the tone, “we’re gonna be quiet when we go in, okay? mummy might be in pain, and the baby will cry if you’re loud, okay boys?”

his two sons nodded diligently, holding on tightly to their dad’s hand as they walked through the hallways of the hospital. changmin was babbling a tune to himself as namgi looked around curiously. sungho took a deep breath; he’d been by your side for days on end as you were hospitalised prior to the birth of your daughter, and he didn’t leave your side for the whole 24 hours after she was born. going home to see his boys, no matter how much he loved them, was painful. now, he was plagued with even more worries of the first meeting.

“do you remember meeting changmin for the first time, namgi?” he asked, squeezing the hand of his eldest.

namgi looked up at his dad, thick glasses sat on his nose and nodded with a cheeky smile. sungho looked questioningly at his son, making him giggle.

changmin whined, “hyung! you were– you were 2! you don’t remember!”

“i do so!”

“boys, boys. quiet, remember?” sungho laughed, cursing himself internally for starting the debate as the three finally reached your room, “we’re here.”

changmin gasped, looking at his dad in excitement. sungho looked between the two boys, seeing almost perfect reflections of himself looking back before pushing the door open without letting go of either of their hands.

“okay…” he whispered, “quietly…”

the two boys giggled at the sight of you; four days being probably the longest they’d gone without you in their very short lives. you waved, beckoning them to your bed – which they happily left their dad’s side to run to.

“mummy!” changmin laughed, dashing over to you and climbing on your bed, but stopping himself before he wrapped his arms around you.

“where’s my hug?” you pouted.

“daddy said you might be hurt!” namgi said, pulling himself onto your bed and playing with the material of your clothes - pyjamas from home, finally no more of a hospital gown.

you glared at your husband, who laughed at your expression; ever the worrier. “boys, i’m okay. you can hug me.”

changmin giggled, flopping onto your body as he wrapped his small arms around you.

“but mummy…” namgi said, prompting you to look at him, “where’s the baby?”

“she’s right here!” you whispered with excitement as you pulled the incubator next to your bed closer so your sons could peak a look.

“little sister,” changmin laughed, enamoured with the bundle, though he was confused all the same.

“why don’t i hold her, and you two can come and say hello?” sungho offered, the two little boys scrambling off the bed to follow their dad as he walked round to the incubator.

he scooped the bundle of blankets out the cot with a slight gasp, sitting down on the side of your bed. he pulled the blankets off, revealing her bear onesie as he repositioned her in his arms.

you sat forward, leaning against sungho’s strong back to peak your own look at your only daughter, your head resting on his wide shoulder.

“she’s pretty,” namgi giggled, poking at her clothes gently to get a better look at her face.

“right?” sungho cooed, looking down at his daughter with a honey-filled gaze. you smiled, kissing his shoulder gently as he looked back at you. “you alright?”

you rolled your eyes with a laugh, rubbing his back gently, “you left me for less than 24 hours, sungho. i’m fine.”

he smiled, kissing your head gently before turning back to his children.

“ooh! what’s her name?!” changmin suddenly exclaimed, looking between you and sungho.

sungho turned to look at you, eyebrows raised expectantly after he left you with a final list of names just 12 hours ago.

“kyunghee,” you smiled at your boys, “park kyunghee.”

riwoo🦦🍡 [yuri = 6, wooseul = 1]

“we’re going to go to hybe for a bit instead, okay?” riwoo said, beckoning yuri to stay close to him as they walked along the streets of yongsan, “mummy will meet us there.”

yuri’s hand stayed on her little sister’s pram even as she jumped up and down, “yay! yay! yay!”

“mummy,” wooseul repeated, her pronunciation still that of a baby.

riwoo smiling and moving the hood of the pram to look down at her proudly. “that’s right, baby.”

“that’s right, baby!” yuri parroted, stroking wooseul’s cheek softly, “ah, we’re here! daddy, we’re here!”

“i know, yuri, i know,” he laughed, beckoning yuri to run into the building first, the body guards and receptionists well aware of the charming little girl; confidence personified, especially when with her introverted dad.

greeting the staff first, he followed after, pushing wooseul’s pram through the halls and elevators to koz’s floor, and finally into the designated bnd practise room.

“the lee family has arrived,” riwoo announced, yuri running into the room and hugging her uncle jaehyun’s legs tightly.

“yuri-ah! wooseul-ah!” he exclaimed, picking up the older lee child before bounding over to greet the younger.

“yes we’re very busy on our daddy-daughter date so if this choreo emergency could hurry along,” riwoo said, looking back at the other members also stood in the practise room.

they laughed, taesan stepping forward to explain. “it’s not much, hyung, but we’ve swapped some parts around and we can’t figure out what to do with the positioning anymore.”

riwoo nodded along, thinking for a moment about the choreography he’d made the day previous and how to change it to suit the new requirements of the song.

“yuri, wooseul, watch this,” jaehyun whispered, now sat on the bench at the back of the practise room with a lee girl either side of him, “your dad’s about to be really cool.”

yuri giggled at his silly voice as wooseul stared up at jaehyun with big shiny eyes. he laughed, patting her head with a coo.

“you’re so cute, wooseul-ah,” he cooed, pulling her onto his lap and hugging her close. woonhak and sungho came and joined them on the bench, pointing excitedly at riwoo as he started mapping out some of the choreo.

yuri giggled; practise rooms the most comfortable place for her at this point. since birth, she’d assisted sanghyuk to his dance practises, and immediately upon enrolment in school made sure to join any dance academy or club she could. she watched her dad with a twinkle in her eye; wooseul more bothered about jaehyun’s shiny necklace as he giggled at the younger child.

“yuri-ah,” woonhak smiled, tickling the girls waist, “how are your dance lessons going, you think you could do this?” riwoo turned round to face them, smiling at woonhak’s words.

“of course,” he bragged, “yuri’s the best in her class, right?”

yuri giggled, leaping up and running to her dad, as he held her face in his hands pulling a funny face down at her. “aren’t you, yuri? that’s what your teacher said, hmm?”

yuri smiled shyly, burying her face in her dad’s leg as the members started encouraging her.

“show us, yuri,” sungho smiled, “show us your dance!”

riwoo smiled proudly at his daughter, pulling her out his leg and leaning down to whisper in her ear, the little girl nodding excitedly in return.

“okay! a special performance from yuri, then,” he announced, walking over to turn on ‘nice guy’ as taesan and leehan went to the side of the room, riwoo moving to stand behind yuri and watch her intently.

“huh?!” woonhak exclaimed loudly.

“our song?!” jaehyun laughed, joining woonhak’s shock.

“let’s go, yuri!” leehan cheered, the little girl giggling as she started dancing to the chorus. riwoo watched her proudly, knowing her skills like the back of his hand.

after she finished the moves she knew, she ran to her dad, burying her head in his leg again as he laughed, petting her hair.

“and wooseul?” jaehyun asked, standing the girl up on his lap.

riwoo laughed, walking over and picking up his youngest daughter, twirling her round the room as though they were slow dancing, “dance genius too! see?”

jaehyun🪻🐕 [jangmi = 5, nari = 4, dongbaek = 10 months]

“remind me why we had another child?”

jaehyun laughed, pushing your messy bed hair out your face as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “cause they’re adorable and we love them.”

“but we just got back to normal sleep!”

you heard his laugh echo through the hallway as he collected your youngest daughter from her cot. recently moved from a moses basket beside your bed to her own room, she wasn’t taking the change well - and neither was anyone else in your house for that matter.

“mummy! daddy! dongbaek-ie’s crying again!” jangmi exclaimed, appearing in your bedroom doorway, rubbing her eyes with the backs of her hands sleepily.

“we know, baby,” you smiled, not bothering to move from where you lay your pillows, instead bringing back jaehyun’s side of the duvet to invite her in. “daddy’s got her, she should stop soon.”

“i do like her…” jangmi trailed off, looking at you cheekily.

you raised your eyebrows, awaiting her next words. “myung jangmi, are you telling me you don’t love your little sister?”

she giggled, laying down beside you and nuzzling into your side, “i like nari.”

laughing loudly, you started tickling her body to tease her, “what?! jangmi! how dare you!”

if the crying from the baby didn’t do it for your middle daughter, laughter certainly did. more and more like your husband each day; nari loved to be where the laughter was.

“mummy,” nari smiled as she appeared in the doorway, teddy gifted by uncle woonhak tucked under her arm.

“come on then,” you smiled, patting the bed beside jangmi as your two daughters got into the warmth beside you.

“uh?!” a loud voice came from the doorway. jaehyun had mock offence on his face, your youngest daughter laying on his shoulder with his protective hand on her back. “my bed’s been overtaken!”

“it’s our bed now!” nari laughed, sticking her tongue out at her dad.

jaehyun pretended to cry, rubbing his face in dongbaek’s tiny body. “dongbaek-ah, save me from your horrible sisters!”

the two girls beside you just laughed, squeezing up to your body so jaehyun could sit on the other side. he raised his knees up, laying the almost-1-year-old on his thighs. she wriggled sleepily as he stared down at her lovingly.

“what do you think dongbaek’s gonna be when she’s older?” he asked, turning to look at jangmi.

both his older daughters were now sat up, staring down at their little sister in wonder.

“an astronaut!” nari cried, jangmi shaking her head defiantly.

“i think an artist.”

“no i’m gonna be an artist!” nari yelled, patting her chest proudly.

“there can be more than one artist, nari!” jangmi scoffed, jaehyun laughing at the interaction, stroking jangmi’s hair to cool her down.

“what do you want to be, jangmi?”

“a singer,” she smiled, settling down beside her dad as he lifted his arm to wrap around her.

“a singer?!” he gasped, a proud smile growing on his face.

“a singer?!” you repeated, “like daddy?”

jangmi nodded, growing shy as she hid her face in her dad’s side.

“woah, you’re so cool, jangmi-ya!” you smiled, brushing her hair affectionately, “and our nari’s going to be an artist too, my girls are so talented!”

“and dongbaek!” nari smiled, peering down at her sister, “even if she’s boring.”

dongbaek was finally starting to settle again, the sight of her dad putting her into comfortable sleep. jaehyun sighed in relief, placing her back on his shoulder.

“right,” he said, voice quiet, “back to bed.”

jangmi and nari whined, protests escaping their mouths immediately. jaehyun silently started signalling wildly to the sleeping baby on his shoulder as his girls started to giggle.

“bed!” he said again, both of them piling out the room as he turned to look at you, rolling his eyes.

you just laughed, “that’s all you.”

taesan🎸🐈‍⬛ [baekho = 8, seulgi = 4, deoksu = 1]

“baekho,” taesan sighed, “you can’t take a bat to school.”

baekho whined, looking to you after his dad seemingly crushed his dreams. you laughed, shaking your head, “he’s right, bud, i’m sorry. you can’t take a bat to school, no matter how much you like baseball.”

the little boy stormed out the room, taesan looking at you and shaking his head with a sigh, “everyday i feel more of a reason to call my mum and apologise for my behaviour as a child.”

you laughed, lifting deoksu out of his high chair and beginning to clean his mouth with a wet wipe, “hmm. and somehow i still think you were worse.”

taesan chuckled, busying himself with cleaning up all the mess from breakfast as baekho came back in the room, full baseball uniform adorning his body instead of the clothes his dad had picked out for him earlier this morning.

“you know what? yeah,” taesan shrugged, “that’s a good halfway point.”

his eldest son sat on the sofa, a serious pout on his face as he crossed his arms. you sat beside him, after placing your youngest on the floor, stroking his cheek softly.

“baekho-ya,” you spoke, “you know if it was up to us, we’d let you take your bat in, right? but both you and us will get in trouble if we let you take it, okay? we’re not trying to ruin your fun, i promise.”

taesan smiled, watching you talk to your son with softness. the beatles continued to play out from the speaker in the kitchen, deoksu toddling over to his dad once he noticed.

“daddy,” he said, taesan bending down to look at his young son with eyebrows raised, “beat-les song right now.”

“yeah!” taesan smiled, kissing his forehead as his heart felt filled to bursting with joy, “do you like it?”

deoksu nodded, giggling as he began dancing (or bobbing up and down). taesan stood up, watching him with a loving gaze. suddenly, he was ripped from the moment suddenly as he glanced at the time.

“god. baekho! seulgi! it’s time to leave!” he yelled, looking at you in confusion, “where’s seulgi?”

“she wanted to pick out her outfit herself this morning,” you shrugged, “and i’m not going to be the one stopping her.”

taesan rolled his eyes, why did his children have to be such mirrors of him?

“seulgi-ya!” he yelled, watching the bottom of the stairs for his daughter to appear. “we’re going to be late!”

“i’ll get the baekho in the car,” you murmured to your husband, kissing his cheek as you placed your dirty coffee cup on the side of the sink. you picked deoksu up, beckoning your eldest son to follow you out. “come on you, shoes and coat.”

taesan sighed as he watched the three of you leave, moving to go up to seulgi’s bedroom to check what she was doing – before he could even reach the bottom of the stairs, however, there she was. her fanciest off-white dress on her body with a soft red cape-style coat over the top. her hair was done in plaits - presumably your only contribution to her outfit, but she’d added a dress-up tiara on her head. he broke out in a smile, heart swelling at the beauty of his only daughter.

“well hello princess,” he chuckled, “going to kindergarten like that today?”

she nodded definitely, smiling up at her dad, “don’t i look pretty?”

he beamed, crouching down and opening his arms for a hug (which she quickly accepted), “you’re the prettiest, darling. put on your shoes quickly, though, we need to leave.”

“yes, daddy!”

he smiled, watching her lovingly as she slipped bright yellow crocs on her feet. he laughed at the new addition to the outfit, shaking his head.

“oh, princess seulgi!” you exclaimed, appearing in the doorway of the house again as your daughter walked out to the car, an air of determination about her, “have a good day at school!”

she giggled, waving goodbye to you and her little brother, climbing up into the car. you looked to taesan who seemed to be in a daze.

“time, taesan,” you said, walking over, deoksu still sat on your hip as you placed your hand on your husband’s face, “i know you’re head over heels for your daughter but you’re gonna be late.”

he snapped back to reality, winking at you as he rushed to the door, “only head over heels for you, my darling. have a good day!”

leehan🪸🐠 [sua = 6, haesu = fetus (6 months)]

“what’s this?”

“what do you mean what’s this?” leehan laughed, his daughter’s small finger trailing over his lips as she looked up at his face from where she lay on his lap, “they’re my lips!”

sua giggled, trailing her finger to poke her dad’s eye, “what’s this?!”

leehan chuckled, taking ahold of her hand and pretending to eat it, sua laughing loudly as his mouth tickled her skin.

“what are you doing?” you giggled, walking into the living room to see your husband and your daughter in their own world as they stared at each other.

“sua’s learning what a face is, apparently,” leehan laughed, tickling his daughter’s stomach as she squirmed on his lap.

“mummy,” sua said suddenly, peering at you. you tilted your head to see her straight on.

“yes, sua baby?”

“can the baby hear us?” she asked, playing with her dad’s hands absentmindedly.

“yes!” you smiled, taking a careful seat on the sofa next to the two, a hand atop your rounded stomach, “why? you want to talk to him?”

sua nodded, suddenly shy as she sat up.

“say whatever!” leehan encouraged, brushing her long brown hair out her face, “i talk to him every night.”

“really?” she giggled.

leehan nodded, a serious expression on his face, “of course! and i spoke to you when you were in mummy’s belly. do you remember?”

sua’s eyes sparkled, exactly the same as her dad’s as they looked at each other - as though trying to gage the other’s reaction. “of course,” she giggled, leehan gasping over dramatically in response.

“you do?!”

she nodded, before turning back to the task in hand as she looked at your stomach. she twisted her head to the side in confusion.

“he’s really in there?” she chuckled, looking up at you.

you smiled, wiping some of whatever she had for breakfast off the side of her mouth as you nodded. you looked down to your stomach, observing for a moment before feeling around. taking sua’s hand, you placed it on the top where your son’s feet were pressing into your skin.

“feel him? right there,” you said, sua’s eyes widening as she sat up suddenly, “he’s kicking me.”

“hey! don’t kick mummy!” sua laughed, placing both her hands on your stomach. she moved closer to the skin, speaking loudly. “hello in there. helllooooo—”

“hello kim sua,” leehan said, putting on a funny voice.

sua turned to glare at her dad, as he just laughed. “dad. i’m 6 now, you can’t trick me.”

“ah, okay, i’m sorry,” he smiled, “go on.”

the little girl turned back to you and the baby, resuming her original position.

“i’m kim sua, can you hear me?” she spoke, watching the surface as though a reply would come, “i’m your sister. and you have to be nice to me because i’m older, okay?”

leehan laughed, burying his face in your shoulder, “where did she get that from?”

you laughed with him, shaking your head, “she’s not allowed to hang out with han seulgi anymore.”

“right?” he said, smiling proudly down at his daughter, “let’s make her hang out with lee yuri. she loves her sister.”

“that’s because she has a little sister, not a little brother,” you said, peering at leehan as he nodded in thought. the two of you were still watching your little girl intently, though she wasn’t listening to a word you were saying; preoccupied with her conversation to her little brother. “i think she’s going to be a good sister though. look at her.”

leehan smiled, nodding, “she loves him already.”

you nodded, leaning your head atop leehan’s as sua suddenly turned to look at you two. you raised your eyebrows in anticipation.

“daddy,” she started, “…can you do the voice again?…”

leehan chuckled, acting confused at the very request. you smiled at him, stroking your daughter’s hair. “speak to your brother again, sua. try one more.”

“can you hear me, baby?” she asked, “answer me!”

“yes hello kim sua,” leehan said in a funny voice, your daughter bursting out in giggles, “i’m your little brother.”

ot6 / woonhak🧸 (this is a bit different cause i felt weird writing him as a dad - takes place FAR in the future!)

“i think this may be the first time in my life i’ve seen him cook,” sungho gasped, watching woonhak carry out the main dish and place it in the middle of the table.

woonhak smiled sarcastically, jaehyun patting him on the back reassuringly.

“it’s okay, baby,” jaehyun cooed, “you’re proving yourself now!”

“ah stop calling me baby, seriously,” woonhak whined, taking his seat next to you at the dinner table. all of the members and their partners were there, woonhak’s heart beating with what could only be described as nerves as you took his hand. “you all have your own children, why am i still the baby?!”

leehan smiled affectionately opposite him, “no matter how old you are, you’re still our baby.”

“yeah!” taesan cheered, raising his glass, “to our baby!”

“to our baby!”

woonhak chuckled off the comment, looking to you nervously as he played with your fingers.

“seriously, though,” sungho spoke, his glass still raised, motioning towards you and woonhak, “thank you for having us, mr. and mrs. kim.”

you smiled, cheersing him back with your own glass (juice, not wine like the others had).

“well actually,” woonhak started, clearing his throat suddenly as looked between his members, “i– we did have something to toast to tonight. a– a reason to force you all to get babysitters and invite you all here.”

“not that we’re not thankful for it,” riwoo laughed, the others joining, but stopping soon after when they saw their maknae’s serious face.

he smiled at his older brothers, the ones who had practically raised him since youth. you squeezed his hand as he spared a glance back at you before looking to his brothers again. the smile on his face was infectious, his heart now pounding with excitement as he grasps the news he’s about to announce.

“y/n’s pregnant,” he beams, the silence thick afterwards as he looks between them, “we’re having a baby!”

jaehyun’s the first to break, a loud cheer escaping his mouth as he bounds out of his seat, pulling woonhak into a hug. the rest of the boys soon follow; some energetic, some seemingly in a daze.

jaehyun turns to you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“seriously,” he smiled, tears welling up in his eyes, “congratulations.”

“why are you crying?!” you exclaimed, slapping his arm as the rest of the members suddenly latched on to their leader’s tears too, teasing him beyond belief.

“i’m just so proud of him,” jaehyun sniffled, pulling woonhak into another hug as the younger boy whined loudly.

“get off me! i’m a dad now,” he teased, the other boys all looking on lovingly, leehan’s hand stroking woonhak’s hair, while a couple of the others were supporting jaehyun.

“wow,” sungho said, as everyone started taking their seats again.

“does this mean we’re old now?” riwoo laughed in disbelief, sharing sungho’s sentiment.

“no!” woonhak cheered, nothing could offset his mood with news this good.

sungho sighed, “speak for yourself. namgi’s already 12.”

148 notes · View notes

tinydefector · 1 month ago

Text

Marine centre 11- merformers AU

Warnings: post smut, fighting

Word count:1.8k

Fic masterlist

_____________________

It's the sound of birds and the mosquitoes that wake them in the morning. The overly loud buzzing against their face as they unconsciously slap at the bug. Groggy as they move, wincing slightly when they twist their hips. A low rumbled chirp leaves right below them, they can feel it against their ear. A large webbed hand and arm is wrapped around their middle. Keeping them held snugly against the oceanides body.

Bluestreak stirs slowly as the morning calls, aware but content to hold his little human nestled close a while longer. Their stirring brings a soft chirr, concern and care woven through it. He's tender with his touches, gently, making sure they are alright, tracing delicate patterns.

Eyes shift to take in the waking of the small grotto. Joy flickering through them at the memories of the night wrapped around his soft one. Never had he dared dream a moment like this, yet here they were, slotted against his body cuddling against him as they tried to shoo away bugs.

Gently nuzzling their soft flesh, a longing croon escapes him. As he pulls them closer. They wiggle and squirm around as they turn over. Bleary eyes meet Bluestreak's as they yawn and stretch. Squealing softly. Bluestreak chirps eagerly at their stirring, nuzzling their face between soft croons.

"Good morning soft one, did you rest well, you don't hurt do you?" His words are quick and it takes him a moment to remember they don't understand. His fins flutter as a yelp leaves him as they slowly pull themself off his spike. Once the shock settles he nuzzles sweet and slow, peppering little lip touches around their skin.

They wiggle away, pushing against him until they are Lying beside Bluesteak on the grassy outcrop. One hand rested over their face while the other continued smacking at mosquitoes.

The reality of the situation finally starts to set in. They had just had intercourse with an Oceanide. "Fuck..." they mumbles before sitting up, eyes locking with Angelfish. The oceanides fins droop slightly as they pulled away. He looks at them with big sad eyes, little chuffs coming from him as he tries to move closer. A webbed hand reaches down to lightly caress their leg, his touch feather-light as he shifts closer, his eyes scanning their body making sure there are no injuries.

They grab their clothes and slowly redress themself despite how uncomfortable it is. The clothing is still rather damp from when Angelfish had pulled them into the water. "Can we go back to the cave, I need to go clean up" they state softly to the mer, still avoiding his gaze out of embarrassment. Angelfish nods, gently scoops them up, cradling their frame close as he swims with them. His movements are slow and careful, mindful of their comfort.

They don't fight as he pulls them back into the water, resting their head on his chest as he continues to glide through the water on his back.

The swim back to the beach is rather peaceful, Angelfish singing a few choice little melodies as he continues to make sure they are alright. The other Oceanides' heads begin to pop out of the water, watching as Angelfish swims with them. A deathly silence seems to form over the pods none of them calling out or singing, it makes a shiver run down their spin. Babybee was the one to swim up. "Hi baby" they call out softly to the pup. He Coos softly only to scrunch his nose up.

"Ew, ew! Bubba stinky, gross Bluey" bumblebee huffs before swimming away from his human carrier who smells like Bluestreak instead of Optimus. Bluestreak's fins droop as the other Oceanides take notice, a heavy silence settling over the pod. He instinctively draws the human closer, protective and wary. "Oh, little one, I'm sorry..." Bluestreak murmurs, his guilt and worry begin to dig a pit in his stomach.

helps them out of the water and onto the dry ledge where they sit. "Take your time. I'll wait here, I don't want you hurting yourself." He settles beside them, ready to provide any assistance they may need. Bluestreak watches anxiously, hoping the pup would come back over, But the little one's reaction is all too telling, he was displeased by the unfamiliar scent.

Prowl swims up to Bluestreak, his fins flared wide in anger. "What have you done, you fool? I told you to stay away from them!" Bluestreak shrinks back. "Sire, I...I did not mean to disobey. The human accepted me, and I-”

"Accepted you?" Prowl hisses, cutting him off. The other Oceanides gather around, their trills and clicks growing louder as tension mounts. Bumblebee cowers behind a rock, confused and scared by the confrontation.

"Optimus has shown the Carer great kindness. How dare you take what is rightfully his?" Prowl jabs a clawed finger at Bluestreak, his eyes blazing with fury. Bluestreak tries to keep his voice level, desperation seeping through. "Sire, Optimus has been avoiding them!”

Prowl's lip peels back in a snarl. " The soft skin is Optimus' mate by our laws, they are being an active Carrier to his Pup!" Bluestreak hunches defensively, his spark racing. He hadn't expected things to escalate to this.

Prowl goes to snarl at the human for accepting Bluestreak but Megatron swims up, his massive frame blocking the human from Prowl's view. He lets out a thunderous snarl, fins flared wide in challenge.

"Stand down, Or ill make you." Megatron growls, large frame in front of the caretaker. Prowl recoils, but does not back down. "This has nothing to do with you, Megatron. Bluestreak has gone against my word!"

Optimus surges forward, calling out in a deep, authoritative tone. "Enough! This fighting serves no purpose." He fixes Prowl with a stern gaze. Bumblebee swims up to Optimus, clinging to his Sire. "Bubba stinky! Smells like Bluey." The little one scrunches his nose in displeasure.

Prowl's growl nearly echoes off the roof of the cave as he turns toward Optimus "But Optimus, our ways-" "Will adapt," Optimus interrupts. Megatron chuffs pulling himself up onto the cave floor, hands moving to check over the human.

The pod falls silent, over the conflict. Bumblebee continues to cling to Optimus, his chirps laced with confusion and unease.

They watch in fear as snarls and hisses are traded between the oceanides. Shaking slightly as The Meg holds them against his powerful frame in protection. Bumblebee swims towards them pushing himself up onto the floor as he crawls toward them, curling up as he begins to cry softly from the fighting as he clings to them.

"STOP THAT IS ENOUGH!" They shout as the cuddle bumblebee to their chest. Cooing softly at the pup. They stare Prowl down and let out their own snarl at him. Before looking at the other mers floating about who had been warbling over the fight. They look back down at bumblebee "shhh baby it's alright" Angelfish watches in awe. He trills softly.

Big blue approaches them, his movements slow and non-threatening. He warbles gently, his tone soothing as he gestures to the distressed Bumblebee. The pup doesn't let go but lets out a collection of unhappy noises. The Meg rumbles low, He eyes the others warily, fins flared in warning, but refrains from further aggression for now.

They scot themself towards the water with Babybee sliding into the water and swimming gently towards Dancer with a little motion that they wanted to leave, not wanting to deal with the snapping and snarling of the oceanides. She trills a soft greeting. As they swim, she casts a wary glance back at the other Oceanides.

Reaching a quieter, more secluded area of the beach, she slows her pace, allowing them to catch their breath. Babybee chirps nervously, his small form trembling against their chest. Dancer warbles softly, They chuckle softly as her webbed hands trace over their face, looking them over like a worried mother. "I'm alright Dancer, not dealing with them snarling and snapping at each other like jealous sharks" they hum.

She nods, her shoulders sagging with relief. "Glad you're safe, little one. Squabbling mechs can be such a handful." She gives a playful eye roll, earning a chirp of agreement from Bumblebee.

The youngling darts around, his earlier distress fading as he senses the calmer atmosphere. "Bubba safe! No more fighting," he chirps happily, nuzzling against the soft one's side.

She reaches out to gently ruffle Bumblebee's fins, earning a delighted squeal. "Come, let's get you both back to shore. I think we could all use a break from the drama for now."

Guiding the human and Bumblebee along, Windblade keeps a watchful eye, ready to intervene if any others try to follow. Her priority is ensuring their safety and comfort - the rest can be dealt with later, when tempers have cooled. "Just lean on me. I've got you," she murmurs, As they reach the sand they sit in the shallows, she continued to fuss over the human and keep a watchful eye on the pup who had made himself comfortable in their lap.

Quin spots the trio on the beach and her face lights up in a warm smile. "Well, look who it is! Fancy meeting you all out here." She approaches them leisurely, her gaze sweeping over the scene with an observant eye. "Seems like you've got babybee and babysitter today?" Quin teased towards them.

“Yea, also stay away from the cave think we might have a fight over there, well see how badly who comes out later” they call back, hoping that their words didn't give away anything, they can feel the anxiety crawling on their skin.

Dancer trills a greeting, her fins flicking in a friendly gesture. "Everything alright here?" Quin asks, her voice laced with gentle concern as she takes in her friend's expression. "You look like you've been tossed around."

"Yea I'm all good, just watch out the bulls and others are getting riled up." They reply. "But we are just enjoying ourselves at the moment, think Dancer here is trying to swindle some squid and clams out of me when feeding time comes around " they joke to Quin, hoping that it would make the night before disappear if they pretended it never happened.

Quin chuckles, amused by the human's playful jab at Windblade. "Ah, so Dancer here is trying to work the angles, hmm? Can't say I blame her. Well i'll catch you later, you still coming out to check nets, it's getting close to migration and i don't want to have any whales, sharks or Oceanides getting stuck in them"

“Yea I'll be there, Will probably get out of the water soon and have a shower, can feel the salt sticking to my skin and hair” they shiver, it wasn't they only thing sticking to their skin at that moment.

________________

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#transformers #transformers idw #mtmte #transformers x reader #transformers x human #mermaid au #merformers #mermaid transformers #transformers lost light

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angie-likes-to-art · 5 months ago

Text

Fic Recs (Stranger Things Edition VI)

All fics are fem!reader

Marvel One Two Three Harry Potter One Two Three Stranger Things One Two Three Four Five Specific Characters Tangerine Masterlist

Bad For Business (Series, Completed) by @upsidedownwithsteve (18+ Only)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “An enemies to lovers AU. Join the team at the Upside Down Arcade, where the machines eat your quarters and the staff have some personal issues.”

hey. (Series, Completed) by @stevesharrlngtons

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “he was such a staple piece in your life, that as a child and young teen, you never saw your life without him. late night promises and pinky swears were made in blanket forts that you two would be friends until the day the sun burned out in the sky. it was just a given that’d he be there, that you never worried about the two of you drifting apart or being separated. he promised he’d always be there, and you had believed him. you now corrected yourself, foolishly believed him.”

Disappointed Revalations by @ahsokaismyqueen

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader Summary: “ After working on a school project together, you had actually started to believe that there was more to Steve Harrington than meets the eye. All of that changes after an interaction with Jonathan Byers.”

Indifferent by @stevesherdaddynowlover (18+ Only)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “you and steve are coworkers and while you try (and fail) to act like he doesn’t exist, he’s a little obsessed with you and would do anything to have your attention ”

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACCIÓN by @eddiesghxst (18+ Only)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Pornstar!Reader Summary: “eddie is short on rent this month and needs quick cash, luckily he stumbles upon an ad for casting in an adult film and finds himself shooting a porno with you”

Noisy Neighbors by @eddiesxangel (18+ Only)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader’s Girlfriend x Reader Summary: “Eddie has no idea what he’s getting into with the two new girls next door.”

Absolutly Smitten by @starryeyedstories

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “ There’s a new crew member at Scoops Ahoy and Steve might have a crush.”

the swindling of steve harrington’s heart by @stevebabey

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “you write for the advice column in the hawkins post, under the pen name gabby. you get a letter asking for advice about a first date and there’s no way it’s the same guy you’ve just landed a first date with, right? steve harrington doesn’t need help with his dates… right?”

That Guy by @appocalipse

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him…”

Eyes Half Shut by @crappymixtape

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “hawkins high alumni always run the end of year carnival to help raise funds for the school and steve is always in charge of the alumni basketball game, but this year they’re trying out a kissing booth and who better to headline than steve harrington?”

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hxlda-hxlda · 1 year ago

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“Of course not, Sirius, we’ve been married for years.”

famous interview au oneshot thingy inspired by @sebbianas post which you can find here!!!! read the idea and could NOT get it out of my head until she was sitting in a google doc, and now here. enjoy:

“Now, since you came out in that viral Instagram post…”

Sirius sighs, doing nothing to hide his exhaustion for what he knows is to come.

The original intention behind the whole fucking thing was to stop the constant questions. The:

‘Sirius, you wore a skirt to that event so who are you dating because, clearly, the two have to be correlated?’, ‘Sirius, you’ve always been a bit different’, ‘Sirius!’, Sirius–’, ‘Sirius…’

He’d hoped—stupidly, naively—that to get rid of the ambiguity would get rid of the incessant wondering. Sure, he fucked men, yes, he wore eyeliner and skirts, no the two weren’t really related, now can we please move the fuck on?

No. No, we apparently cannot move the fuck on. The questions and the speculation and, and, and; it’s all still fucking there.

“Sirius, there’s been talk of a relationship with bass player Remus Lupin for a while now. New rumours are sparking since the two of you have been spotted together a lot lately.”

They’re both thinking of those pap pictures leaving the bar last month.

“We were wondering if you could give us the inside scoop?” Greg is staring at him like he’s asking something new, like Sirius is actually very eager to share with the world the complexities of his relationships, as if it has anything to do with his modelling. It doesn’t, if you were wondering. Fucking men has nothing to do with a runway, either, actually. “Really, what is going on between the two of you?”

Sirius has been given press training many, many times, to field these kinds of questions. His agent, Gideon, had him memorise all the correct responses back to front, upside down. Curveball questions, sneaky implications, you name it; Sirius knows how he should respond to this. Hell, it’s on a fucking flash card.

His gut response, the thing Sirius is suddenly incredibly eager to do, is definitely not on a flash card.

However. But, but, and hear him out:

By fucking god, he was bored.

Greg had asked the same ten questions every other interviewer of the last year had asked with the same glint in his eyes as every other interviewer of the last year. Fame was great, but nobody told him it would be this goddamn boring. Repetitive. So many 'yes's and 'no's and 'wouldn't you like to know's.

So, Sirius proceeds, entirely disobeying those oh-so-holy flash cards.

“It would be an honour to give you the scoop, Greg, my dear,” Sirius says with a grin, shoving his hand into his back pocket.

The interviewer’s eyes light up over his mic.

“So-” When Sirius pulls out his phone, the glint is dimmed by confusion. “What-”

“Why don’t we ask him right now?”

There were strict rules about this, phones when live, phones during interviews, etcetera, etcetera, blah, blah. Sirius knew them all as well (see: a different set of flash cards). Sorry Gideon, Sirius thinks as he goes straight to his Favourites. He isn’t sorry.

“Ask… who?”

Sirius just winks. The call is already on its second ring.

On the fourth, Sirius is almost worried Remus won’t actually pick up, but not really. Remus always picks up.

Well, he always picks up when Sirius rings. Once, Marlene had called fifteen times in five minutes before Remus had responded two hours later with a ‘what?’ text. The man stuck true to his self-proclaimed Luddism, after all.

On the fifth ring Greg is looking sceptical. Sirius knows Remus is also working right now. He’d mentioned a meeting with some producer. He remains confident nonethless.

On the sixth ring, the call clicks as it is answered. A beat. And then:

“What?”

Remus sounds entirely unenthused to be answering a call at this moment, voice sullen. Sirius grins anyway, thrilled he’s picked up at all. As if he wouldn’t. As if he doesn’t always.

“And hello to you, too.”

“Aren’t you meant to be on that radio thing right now?”

“We are, in fact, live at this very moment.” Sirius glances back to Greg who, despite being the host, has immediately lost all of his perceived-control. He’s watching Sirius blankly, only vaguely piecing together the fact that it is famed, award winning, world’s greatest (not that Sirius is at all biassed) bass player Remus Lupin’s voice coming through Sirius’ phone. Sirius smirks amusedly at Greg before turning back to the conversation at hand. One that finally fucking matters. “Good to know you’re listening in and supporting me, as always.”

“Believe it or not, I have better things to do right now.”

“You wound me, Moons.”

That nickname did wonders on Twitter when it first became known, Sirius having slipped and referred to Remus as Moony in some other interview some other time. There's a ship name now. There are fanfictions. Sirius reads them aloud as dramatically as he can muster (which is, believe him, very) at the most inopportune times. Usually when Remus is busy, just to watch that cute little frown line in his forehead appear.

“Is there a point to you interrupting my work, and also national radio, with this call?”

“What if I just wanted to speak to you?”

“I will hang up right now.”

A lie. He never hangs up first.

Sirius sighs again, another exhausted thing. “They want to know if we’re dating.”

“Who?”

“They. Everyone. The world. Greg.”

Sirius shoots the host another look, whose look of momentary shock has dissolved into interest. Hunger. This is the scoop, apparently. Like the both of them, Sirius and Remus, haven’t already been asked this question to death.

“Greg?”

“Y’know, the guy with the grating voice on the station that plays the same five pop songs on repeat.” Gideon is going to kill him for that one. Sirius sends another silent apology he does not mean.

“Ah, Greg.”

Greg is frowning now. Sirius grins again.

“So? C’mon Moons, tell us. They’re all waiting eagerly. They want to know,” he repeats.

“They always want to know,” Remus replies bluntly.

“They’re in an extra persistent mood today.”

When Sirius cuts his third look at Greg, he has the audacity to look entirely unapologetic, as if Sirius’ public life as a model translates to that of his private life. As if it makes total sense to badger him for months—no, scratch that, years—on who Sirius is and isn’t fucking, and whether or not, god forbid, they aren’t a female.

“You can’t tell them yourself?” Remus’ voice distracts him from his angry spiral of thoughts.

He could, of course. He has, a million fucking times, given an answer. Sirius even has his flash cards, for fuck’s sake. But this is much more fun.

“Just answer the damn question, Lupin.”

“You didn’t ask a question, Black.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, incredibly aware this is dragging through the interview’s very minimal time slot. Good.

“Are we dating, Remus?” he asks seriously (ha).

A moment of silence. Sirius holds the phone closer to the mic, closer to his own ear. He can’t help himself, he wants to know how Moony will handle this as well. Then:

“Of course not, Sirius, we’ve been married for years.”

Greg’s eyes widen to saucers. Sirius keeps his face neutral, an impressive feat that would rival even Regulus’ own acting skills, if he says so himself, and Reg won a Tony last year.

“Ah, how could I forget?” Sirius says instead of breaking into the laughter that he so desperately wants to roll into a heap with. “My husband.”

“Truly, how could you? Should we consider divorce now?” Remus replies, voice as indistinguishably sullen as always. Sirius knows he’s smiling with his eyes, he can hear it.

“Now that would make the papers.”

“Certainly… Is that all?”

“Yes, yes, go do your music-y things now.”

Sirius can hear the eye roll as well. “Fine.”

Sirius hangs up. He tucks the phone back into his pocket, taking his time. Then, then, he looks back up at Greg. The interviewer is a picture of shock, maybe a touch of confusion; wide eyes, jaw loose with a mouth that hangs, equally wide.

“Well, Greg, how was that for a scoop?” Sirius raises a single, manicured eyebrow.

“Wa– Was he being serious?” the man all but splutters.

“What? No, of course not, I’m Sirius, silly.”

“That’s not–”

“Greg! I’m offended! Do you forget the names of all your guests? We’ve been talking for almost an hour now!”

The longest fucking hour of Sirius’ life, mind you. But the rest of it goes by much faster and much more pleasantly, as Greg struggles to move on from that little show. It makes the dressing down from Gid all the more worth it.

And by the time Sirius manages to check his phone again, emerging from hell (or Studio C, call it what you want) hours later, #wolfstar is already trending on Twitter. He screenshots it, sends it to Remus.

pads !!!!!!!!!

look what uve done u menace

MOONY ❤️‍🔥😍🌕

Fake news. Lily and I are planning to run away together, actually.

Sirius huffs a laugh. Sure, fake news.

#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #fanfiction #writing #oneshot #wolfstar fanfiction #famous au #writing tag #fic: your ‘lectric eye on me

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strawberries-and-summer-days · 8 months ago

Note

hii could you do a fake dating trope with Percy?

FAKE DATING PERCY JACKSON HC'S ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

pairing: percy jackson x unclaimed!fem!reader

warnings: swearing, like one mention of the giggidy + really shitty family members making comments abt weight.

a/n: it actually took me a good three seconds to decide to write this. i love love LOVE the fake dating trope omg. so yes please! im also going on a break tonight and i wanted to post something before i left hence why this is hc and not a fic <33

you had approached percy with the deal of fake dating first

he was convinced you were playing a joke on him and had declined but when you had actually given him a list of pros and cons he was swayed

he agrees really quickly - a little too quickly

when the camp had found out you were dating nobody was shocked cause they'd all been shipping you for years

percy would show up at your cabin every morning to walk you to breakfast no matter what

you would hang out more and more eventually just spending all your free time together

convincing the camp you were dating insisted of hands in back pockets of jeans, random hugs (which you've become quite a fan of), little notes left in each others cabins, and cheek kisses.

you had a "date day" every saturday

that is percy's favourite day of the week.

a whole day hanging out with you? hell yeah

when percy invited you home for the holiday's you agreed but warned him he might have to meet your own family

he agreed and assured you its fine

sally loves you.

like she thinks of you as her daughter and welcomes you with warm hugs and food

when your family demands asks to meet percy you both dress nicely and you brace yourself for an awful night

your family is appalling to you but adoring to percy

they make comments all night "oh, so are you two fucking or what?"

"nope just dating," percy reassures wrapping an arm around you.

he snaps when one of your aunts make a comment about you eating.

"are you sure you wanna eat that y/n? you'll get even more fat."

"shut the fuck up! she has literally eaten nothing all day one fucking cracker isn't going to change that."

he practically drags you out of the house flipping off your family members when the follow you both out.

tears sting at your eyes when you realise how much that meant to you

to cheer you up percy takes you for ice-cream (and you both get double scoops thank you very much) and back home to sally

sally who was warned by percy when you left your house that y/n was in need of some cheering up blue cookies style

you curl up on the couch together and spend the night watching trashy movies and gossiping like teenage girls with sally

percy works up the courage to kiss you the day before you go back to camp on one of your scheduled "date days"

you instantly kiss him back

sally was one hundred percent being told about this from both of you

when you do arrive back percy turns to you and asks why you needed to start fake dating before the holidays

you smile and reveal that you actually didn't need to and you had written it down on your pros and cons list but percy had just started acting boyfriendy

later on that day you realise that somewhere along the way you and percy stopped 'fake dating' and just started acting like yourselves with each other

coincidentally technically 'dating' before you even knew it

a/n pt2: i was so sleep deprived when writing this, so sorry if its crap. i'll be reappearing in a few days after my break (hopefully with two new fics: midnight troubles pt3 and the percy x popstar au)

#percy x you #percy x reader #percy jackson #percy x y/n #percy jackson fic #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fanfic #percy pjo #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #fanfic #fanfiction #pjo fanfic #emma writes ₊˚⊹⋆

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steddiemicrofic · 1 month ago

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Steddie Microfic November 17th-30th Masterlist

This Magic Moment by @fkinkindagauche | Rated G | no cw

summer job by @steddieas-shegoes | Rated T | no cw | tags: different first meeting, pre-relationship, lifeguard Steve Harrington, lifeguard Eddie Munson, getting together implied

guard your heart by @katyawriteswhump | Rated G | cw: drug use | tags: idiots to lovers, no upside down au

yes, sir by @steddieas-shegoes | Rated E | cw: alcohol, mildly dubious consent in that eddie is drunk but it's definitely fine | tags: established relationship, rock star Eddie, bodyguard Steve, modern au, dom Steve, sub Eddie, mentions of edging, hint of a handjob

Night Watch by @adverbally | Rated T | no cw | tags: Wayne POV, post-S4 where Eddie doesn’t die, pre-Steddie relationship, hospital, recovery, allusions to post-traumatic nightmares

Love Him Loudly by @novacorpsrecruit | Rated G | no cw

Luck Guardian by @scoops-aboy86 | Rated M | cw: weight gain, belly kink | tags: chubby steve harrington, feeder eddie munson, post-canon by way of eddie munson lives, creative use of a D20

I've got you, sweetheart by @hawkinsbnbg | Rated G | no cw | tags: omegaverse, stranger to lovers, scent mates, omega steve, alpha eddie

you could be bad, but i wanna find out by @thefreakandthehair | Rated M | no cw | tags: goalie!Steve Harrington, fan!Eddie Munson, alternate universe- no upside down, different first meeting, meet ugly (but it's still cute), bars, alcohol mention, description of sexual activity, humor, big mouth!Eddie Munson, long-suffering besties Gareth and Jeff

this man is more to me than you can dream by @onirislanding | Rated T | cw: mentions of violence and death, smoking

Vocation by @berenwrites | Rated G | no cw | tags: Fluff, Upside Down aftermath, future, corroded coffin, famous Eddie

of ogres and omegas by @katyawriteswhump | Rated E | cw: omegaverse, fingering, slick, sexual content, slightly under negotiated but they're totally into it | tags: fairytale omegaverse, alpha Eddie Munson, Omega Steve Harrington, happy ever after

untitled by @hotluncheddie | Rated E | no cw | tags: chubby Steve Harrington, dom/sub dynamic, belly kink, belly button play

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficnovember #stranger things #masterlist #steddie events

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year ago

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the cleansing

lilac, chapter nineteen

a/n: second to last chapter of this entire series!! aahhh! the final chapter will be posted in exactly one week, so get ready!

summary: “I’m gonna ask you one last time, are you sure you wanna do this?”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, hurt/comfort, angst, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, cuddling, blood and gore

word count: 751

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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Shivering slightly as you layed on the couch, your pyjama pants kicked off and crumbled by your feet, you absentmindedly counted the small, spiral knots on the wooden ceiling where branches once grew, back when they weren’t panels of lumber but mighty trees reaching up towards the clouds.

“I’m gonna ask you one last time, are you sure you wanna do this?”

“Yes,” you breathed, glancing down at Frank who kneeled on the floor next to you, the warm light from the fireplace catching the blade in his palm and glinting back at you, “please just do it. If you don’t then I’ll probably just get up in the middle of the night and do it myself and I don’t know if I trust myself enough not to do it wrong and hurt myself more than necessary.”

Even though the brand wasn’t much bigger than a small coin, it somehow still felt like it covered your entire body.

“Alright,” he exhaled, placing a steady palm just above your knee, “but it’s gonna hurt like a motherfucker.”

“I can take it, I don’t care if it hurts, I don’t care if I’ll have a scar there for the rest of my life, I just want it off me.”

“You want another swig?” he lifted up the glass bottle of whiskey he’d encouraged you to drink from since he didn’t have narcotics lying around the cabin to numb the pain.

“No, just do it,” you rested your head back down and stared up at the ceiling, “I’m ready.”

“I’m gonna try and be quick, okay?”

“Okay,” you felt your body tremble in anticipation.

Holding up a folded leather belt, he urged, “bite down on this so that you don’t chew off your tongue.”

Accepting it between your teeth, you exchanged one last round of confirming nods before he offered you his free hand to squeeze.

As he pierced the knife into the edge of the marked skin on your upper thigh, your nails dug into his palm as you let out muffled screams of agony. The pain was nearly too excruciating to endure, your other fist slammed down against the couch cushion as he sliced the scorched scar clean off.

“Done,” Frank swiftly pressed a clean rag against the wound to soak up the blood, “that’s it, you did it, you did it.”

Letting go of his hand, you ripped the belt away and dropped it to the floor, as you filled up the cabin with your shuttering shrieks, briefly redirecting your beating of the couch to a few that collided with his shoulder, an impact that didn’t even make Frank flinch.

“Hey, hey,” his fingers found the side of your face and urged you to meet his brown eyes, “breathe, breathe,” and he offered you a few clear examples for you to copy, “good, good, there you go, that’s it,” his thumb gently swiped over your cheekbone as you found a slower and deeper pattern of breaths that helped you deal with the pain.

You tried your best to keep it up as he then carefully began to patch you up. Before every stitch he gave you, even though it wasn’t that many, he nevertheless warned you every time by asking you to take a deep breath and exhale just as he pierced the tender flesh.

When a broad band-aid soon covered up the wound, you felt his hand once again find your cheek and you peeled your stare away from the ceiling to gaze back into his eyes.

“Let’s go to bed,” he uttered softly before you offered him a nod in return.

Scooping you up into his arms, one behind your knees and the other along your shoulder blades as if you were some fair maiden, he carried you the short distance into the bedroom, gently helping you down onto the mattress and tugging the soft duvet half over you before he rounded to the other side of the bed and slipped in as well.

Rolling over to face him, you couldn’t help but notice how you still trembled. You actually weren’t sure if you’d completely stopped yet, even though nearly a week had passed, but as you reached for him and he in return scooted a bit closer, letting you curl into his warmth, the sensation seemed to ever so slightly fade away as you found yourself in the tangle of his safe arms.

Nuzzling your face further into his burly chest, you murmured against his t-shirt, “thank you…”

#lea’s writing #lilac series #lumberjack!frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle fic #the punisher fic #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher x reader #frank castle series #lumberjack au #frank castle hurt/comfort #frank castle angst #frank castle fluff

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redladydeath · 24 days ago

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Monthly Proto Vox AU update

For anyone who doesn't know, ever since Prototype Vox was discovered, I've been gradually putting together a backstory for Vox centered around the idea that that's how he originally spawned in Hell. It's gotten to be 8K words long. Just wanted to make a new masterpost since I've added onto the older one 32 times.

Also, I don't think I ever posted about this, but I also posted this to Ao3 a few weeks ago.

Alastor goes to speak with another overlord, trying to decide whether or not he should kill them. While there, he notices that said overlord has the most fascinating little toy/pet/jester. Such novel technology… he thinks he’ll take it, whether the overlord wants him to or not!

Alastor keeps Vox around because he’s cute and entertaining. As time passes, a legitimate friendship starts to form as Alastor realizes that Vox is far more than meets the eye— tricksy, devious, and intelligent. He learns that before he arrived in Hell, Vox was a handsome, well-respected adult man, and he isn’t too keen on constantly being mistaken for a child and treated like a joke by other sinners. A pity he has to live like that… but it’s not like there’s anything to be done for it! And Alastor must say, he’s fond of his little picture box the way he is.

With Alastor’s guidance, Vox slowly accumulates knowledge and resources and discovers that he can modify his body. He jumps on the opportunity at once— he doesn’t want to live like this anymore, and he’ll do anything to be respected (or at least taken seriously) by other people again. Alastor disapproves but holds his tongue.

Time passes, and Vox changes more and more things about himself until he’s almost unrecognizable. He and Alastor get into arguments about it. It’s galling to Vox that Alastor keeps insisting he was better off in a form he hated. Mix all this with the modernity and “morality”/standards stuff, and you eventually get Vox and Alastor falling out.

Years later, Vox hates that he was ever that weak and can’t stand being reminded of Alastor, their old relationship, or his early life in Hell. He works hard to destroy/bury any traces of who he used to be, but Alastor is a walking, eternal reminder of the past he’d rather forget. Alastor is loathe to admit it, but he still misses his old friend. Sometimes, he wonders if he ever truly knew him at all.

---

Freshly fallen Vox seeking out an overlord’s protection because, holy shit, if he tries to survive on the streets any longer, he’s gonna get killed, or worse. Most sinners get asked if they can do anything useful when they go to an overlord; Vox gets asked if he can sing, dance, and do comedy routines. He can, so he’s quickly scooped up by the overlord. He supposes he should be grateful that he was able to score a comfortable job doing something not terribly unpleasant, but the dehumanization of being treated like a doll or an adorable purse dog grates on him. He remembers who he really is (or used to be) and would do anything to be seen as a man again rather than a novelty.

---

Imagine feeling so utterly desexed by your body, finding someone you think you can trust to respect you, confessing that you’re in love with them, and they laugh in your face for thinking such a thing was even remotely possible. Alastor doesn’t do a great job clarifying that he’s disinterested in a relationship out of personal preference rather than because he doesn’t respect Vox, and Vox walks away from the encounter seething, believing that Alastor never saw him as anything more than a pet or a clown.

---

Man, this would especially suck for my hc version of Vox, who used to be a small-time Vaudevillian when he was a child. Like. Yaaaayyy, time to dance around and act cutesy for people who have complete power over you… again…… when you’re pushing forty…………

---

Vox was REALLY starting to feel like he'd made an irreversible mistake before Alastor came into his life. He'd been in the employ of his overlord for four years, and he could count the number of times he'd been allowed to leave their compound on two (four-fingered) hands. They weren't cruel to him per se, but they really did seem to see him as a pet– something to trail after them all day, do tricks on demand, and show off to colleagues at parties. Any plans he had for carving out a dignified, powerful life for himself were going up in smoke. He knew a lot of things from constantly overhearing conversations about the overlord's business, but he didn't have anyone to trade that information to because of his restricted mobility. He understood that he had some pretty unique powers, but he'd never gotten the chance to use them in combat, only to perform. It was becoming clear to Vox that the only way he was going to escape this doltish, embarrassing life was if someone killed his overlord (something he couldn't do himself due to the deal they struck).

And then the Radio Demon came walking through the door.

---

Vox really has no idea what Alastor's deal is when they first meet. Like. He kidnaps him but also says Vox can leave whenever he wants. But like. where is he supposed to go??? Alastor just killed his overlord, which, yeah, Vox wanted to happen, but now he's homeless and isn't sure how to proceed. Is it safe to stay with Alastor, or is he just going to kill him next?

Vox keeps up the "silly little cartoon" persona for a while because Alastor seems to find it amusing, but things gradually slip through the cracks. He's scared Alastor will abandon or kill him if he grows bored or dissatisfied with him, but... Alastor seems to like the real him? He actually lets him speak freely and talk about whatever he wants? He uses his tech powers to turn off the in-built censors that keep Vox from swearing?? When he realizes that Vox is actually really cunning, he wants to hear his feedback on things??? Sure, he still kinda talks down to him, but Alastor's like that with everyone. This... maybe this could be more than just trading one master for another.

---

Random thoughts about Vox’s overlord

She was enamored with him from the first moment she saw him. He was just so precious! And he was willing to do anything to receive her protection!

Her industry had nothing to do with entertainment; she took Vox in purely to be her own personal jester.

Not sure if she owned his soul or just had a deal with him to give him a safe place to live in exchange for his services.

Loved treating him like a doll. Would dress him in cute, oversized outfits, carry him around in her arms, and occasionally bring him to bed and cuddle him like some sort of plushie.

There were occasions, especially towards the beginning, when Vox would snap at her or reveal elements of his real personality. Those incidents would only lead to her doubling down on the demeaning treatment. She’d experienced mistreatment at the hands of men like him when she was alive and saw asserting her power over him as cathartic and karmic.

Usually brought him with her everywhere, but would sometimes leave him locked in her office/room by himself if she had something important scheduled. Vox had initially thought he could leave or at least walk around when she didn’t need him, but no. Besides, why would he want to leave? The streets of Hell were no place for a tiny, fragile thing like him!

Vox fucking hated her and was glad to see Alastor bash her brains in and feature her on his show.

---

Mainverse Vox died by being electrocuted by an ungrounded mic at work right before they went live. This Vox died by being electrocuted while trying to fix the family TV. His kids had been begging him to at least try to fix it since the repairman couldn’t come until the next day, and they didn’t want to miss their favorite cartoon. He was feeling indulgent that day and felt that, as the man of the house, he should be able to fix things without always calling someone else to do it for him. It didn’t end well.

---

Thinking about Vox and Alastor’s first encounter.

Alastor might have seen Vox before at an overlord event, being shown off by his boss or performing for her friends. He may have seen him for the first time when he walked into Vox’s overlord’s office and saw her toying with him. Either way, Alastor was immediately intrigued. He hadn’t seen many sinners like Vox, with his screen head and cartoony body, and could instantly tell he was a highly skilled performer. His eyes followed him, even as Vox’s overlord put him aside and ordered him to get her and Alastor drinks. Vox could tell Alastor was watching him but wasn’t sure what to do about it. It’s probably not a good sign when the infamous Radio Demon is eying you like you’re his next meal.

Eventually, the overlord noticed that Alastor was not paying full attention to their conversation and was preoccupied with Vox. The topic briefly switched to him before Alastor inquired if she’d be willing to bargain for him. Vox was horrified. The overlord attempted to politely decline; she couldn’t bear to part with her precious little poppet. He was hers, and it would be cruel to separate them— they adored each other so much, after all. Alastor just smiled blithely and clarified: he wasn’t asking.

All hell broke loose in an instant. One moment, Vox was observing a conversation between his boss and her colleague; the next, the office was crawling with shadows, and his overlord was pinned to the wall, impaled on a tentacle. Vox panicked and tried to flee, but there was no escaping that room. There are two options for what happens next: either Vox is seized by Alastor and teleported out of the building, or Vox’s boss screams at him to help her, only for him to glance between her and Alastor and fix her with an icy stare.

No matter what happened, the outcome was the same: Vox found himself teleported onto the streets of Hell with Alastor looming over him. He frantically attempted to talk Alastor out of killing him, but Al just laughed jovially and told Vox that he had no intention of harming him. Vox was free to leave whenever he wanted, but Alastor would like to see just how entertaining he truly was.

---

As they're walking, Alastor notices a weird clicking sound coming from Vox. He asks what it is, and Vox awkwardly explains that he's wearing tap shoes and starts trying to take them off as he walks. Alastor is amused and tells him not to bother. He'd love to see him dance sometime.

---

Val: Baby? What were things like before you met me? Vox: Awesome. I had- I had women all over me, they just couldn’t get enough. Everyone was always dying to see my shows. I was voted the hottest person in Hell. It was great. Vox’s actual early career in Hell:

---

Thinking about one of the times Vox “mouthed off” to his overlord. He may be a performer, but there’s only so long he can stay in character, especially when said character is so undignified. He refused to play along with one of her little games and snapped at her that he was a man, not a fucking show dog.

Next thing Vox knew, he was nearly blinded by pain as his boss twisted his antenna almost to its breaking point. Her voice sickeningly sweet, she told him she knew exactly what kind of man he had been— Earth’s crawling with them. But those days are over now. Respect has to be earned in Hell; it’s not just going to be handed to him like when he was alive. The afterlife has made him a joke, and the sooner he accepts that the happier he'll be. That’s what he signed up for when they made their little arrangement, after all. She asked if she was understood and kept twisting his antenna until she got a loud-and-clear “Yes, ma’am” out of him. With that, she snapped back to normal and either cheerfully ushered him towards [whatever she was forcing him to do] or dismissed him in her typical patronizing manner.

Vox broke half the items in his room that night in a rage. He tried to leave gouges on his skin and dents in his head, but he couldn’t manage it, what with his stupid, soft little hands.

---

It doesn’t really fit with my headcanon that Alastor was super white-passing when he was alive and spent most of his life pretending to be white in order to have more opportunities, but I feel like he may have felt a kinship with Proto-Vox due to them both being “outsiders”— people who are/were constantly dismissed by those in power and have to work twice as hard in order to be taken seriously, even though they’re more skilled and competent than everyone else in the room. And so it hurt all the more when Vox leapt at the first opportunity to change who he was in order to join the class of people who had once looked down on him. It didn’t fully click with Alastor that Vox wasn’t always like this– that he was trying to return to who he once was rather than abandoning who he’d always been.

---

Vox wasn’t exactly doing himself any favors in terms of connecting with the other sinners who worked under his overlord. He was so desperate to reestablish at least some control over his situation that, on the rare occasion he got to interact with people without his boss looming over them, he was insufferable, acting as though his position as their overlord's constant companion made him superior to regular employees. It never actually made him feel any better though, since most people either just rolled their eyes or testily reminded him that his oh-so-important job was to make a fool of himself all day and be doted on by his "owner."

---

To most outside observers, it really looked as though the relationship between Vox and his overlord was genuinely loving. She was just so affectionate with him. There was never a moment when she wasn’t tittering away at his jokes, or playing with his antennas or plug tail, or scooping him up into her arms or lap, or hugging or tickling or cuddling him, or covering him in kisses, or coming up with adorable pet names, or showing him off to others as though he were the rarest gem she’d ever come across. No one ever seemed to notice that Vox was never the one to initiate these kind of interactions. Depending on who you asked, it was either the most adoring master-servant arrangement Hell had ever seen, a (possibly biological?) mother-son dynamic, or just an INCREDIBLY kinky relationship. Vox played his part well, laughing along and hardly ever letting the smiling mask slip. No one ever could’ve guessed just how much he loathed her and the entire humiliating situation or how cruel she could be whenever he dared drop the act.

Well, no one except Alastor, that is.

---

Imo, Proto Vox would just sound like normal Vox slightly pitched up, but man, Hell giving him a lisp or some other "funny" way of speaking on top of everything else would be such a gut punch for him. His good looks and his charismatic manner of speech were key to his success when he was alive, and now both of those lifelines have been severed.

---

Personal, headcanon-specific thoughts:

Proto Vox’s outfit is very similar to a costume he wore during his childhood on Vaudeville.

Alternate option: While I hc that sinners spawn naked, if they don’t, then Vox spawned in the exact 1920s sailor suit he used to wear during most of his childhood performances.

His Hell form is a punishment not only because it robs him of all dignity, but because it’s a constant reminder of a part of his life when he had no power over his situation and was treated like an object meant only to entertain.

---

Thinking about how Alastor’s “a smile is a means of maintaining control” philosophy might strike a chord with Proto Vox. When he was alive (and later, in his career as an overlord), putting on a smile was a way for him to project the person he wanted others to perceive him as. If he looked the part, then people would believe he was the confident, steady, trustworthy man he presented as. After he arrived in Hell, though, a smile became a mask he could not take off. Hell had chosen a role for him, and if he failed to play it well enough, he risked permanent death or worse. He resented having to keep that mindless grin on his face at all times. This wasn’t who he wanted to be. This wasn’t who he was. The idea that he could use that iron mask to regain control over his life was foreign to him, but it made sense. Now that he was no longer chained to a master who kept him locked into that hated role at all times, he had a choice in how he wanted to use it— for day-to-day survival or to further his true ambitions?

---

Vox and Alastor’s first encounter was at an overlord party like something out of a Regency romance, except Vox was three feet tall and didn’t notice Alastor was watching him because he was too busy performing for his boss’ overlord friends. Alastor appreciated the skill on display in Vox’s routine and was intrigued by the unusual way his “owner” treated him. Sure, some overlords treat those under them as pets, but she was so overly cutesy and “loving” with him that it stood out, especially given the way Vox feigned reciprocation. Interesting.

---

A scene/story idea: Vox is sitting at a desk in a grand, spacious office. It’s late, and he’s just killing time, wishing he had a cigar (and a mouth to smoke it with) and occasionally scribbling down notes for future reference. The stationary he’s using has the date printed at the top, though. It’s his daughter’s tenth birthday. He reflects on how it’s been three years since he last saw her and the rest of his family and how he’ll likely never see them again. He hopes his wife is throwing her an appropriately extravagant party, at least. They’d gone all-out for their son’s tenth birthday; half the neighborhood was there, even one or two of the ladies from work who had blown him in exchange for putting in a good word with the producers. It was a great time.

And then his boss comes walking in, complaining about what a stressful day she’s had, and the illusion that this is Vox’s office shatters. He hops down to the floor, taking his dance/comedy routine notes with him. His boss is busy getting herself a drink, so he hopes she didn’t notice him sitting in her chair. He starts trying to engage her in conversation, switching to his work persona (cheerful, cutesy, and childish). She did notice him, but she just smiles indulgently and says he always knows just what to do to cheer her up— he looked so silly sitting at her big, important desk. Now, she needs a bit of comfort; they’ll be going to bed now. She scoops Vox up as easily as if he were a doll and carries him off to serve as her (very angular) teddy bear. Vox keeps the adoring smile plastered on his face and tries to put aside the burning shame and rage that this is what the afterlife has reduced him to: a child, a pet, a toy meant to entertain those who wield the actual power.

---

You know, come to think of it, there’s actually some basis to Alastor feeling a bit of a kinship with Vox. Aside from the obvious shared trait of them both being communications/entertainment demons, Alastor’s demonic form is a prey animal. Al never had to deal with the consequences of having that kind of form since he spawned so powerful (unless we’re going with the theory that he made his mystery deal right when he got to Hell and draws the majority of his power from it (which would be pretty interesting in this context…)), but still.

---

Made Vox's room in the Sims

---

Vox tried to walk out of his job once. His boss pushed him too far, and he snapped, yelling at her to find someone else to play this fucked up game with; he’d rather take his chances on the streets. Next thing he knew, he was bound, muted, and blindfolded, being crammed into a tiny suitcase. His overlord told him to reflect on what he’d said. There’s no life after second death, only nothingness. Is that really a risk he wants to take?

Vox was in “storage” for the next week. He didn’t try to leave again after that.

---

When Vox’s boss finally decided he’d had enough time to reflect, she opened the trunk to find Vox barely able to move under his own power. He was trembling like a freezing cat, having spent seven whole days bound in the fetal position, unable to move, speak, hear, or see. He couldn’t even unfurl himself from said position without her help. When she took him into her arms, he clung to her, any thoughts of hate or anger gone, replaced with a desperate desire for human connection after a week of nothingness. She cradled him in her arms— sweet as a lamb and without a shred of that odious pride she’d been working so hard to stamp out of him. Whispering kind, soothing words, she stroked his shaking, silent body as she carried him back to her bedroom. She dozed off with him in her arms, secure in the knowledge that her darling little doll had learned his lesson: being her toy is a privilege, and the only possible alternative for him is oblivion.

---

Thinking about Proto Vox and body dysmorphia

Vox hated everything about his body.

He hated being so small, not even half the size of most other sinners.

He hated his face, cute and goofy-looking. He hated his “missing tooth,” which only added to his childish appearance.

He hated his head, oversized and heavy. He hated how clumsy it made him before he became accustomed to it.

He hated not having a physical mouth and being unable to eat.

He hated his voice, higher pitched than it had been when he was alive. He hated the childish-sounding lisp he had been afflicted with.

He hated how he couldn’t swear or talk about adult topics without his voice being drowned out by an in-built censor.

He hated his body and its strange combination of wood and metal, both of which bent in ways that shouldn’t’ve been possible.

He hated his hands, soft and rounded and nailless.

He hated how he had spawned without genitals, completely smooth and sexless, like a doll.

He hated how no one perceived him as anything even remotely resembling a sexual being, even though he was a fully grown man who had once had his pick of beautiful women when he was alive.

He hated how he weighed almost nothing, making him easy for others to pick up or restrain.

He hated the way nothing in Hell was built to accommodate sinners his size, forcing him to climb (or be lifted onto) things as simple as chairs.

He hated the way his boss made him dress: in baggy outfits that made his smallness even more apparent, in children’s clothes, in silly, oh-so adorable costumes. He especially hated when she insisted on dressing him herself as though he were her doll.

He hated how often people mistook him for a child or deliberately talked down to him as though he was stupid just because of his ridiculous body.

He hated how people laughed at him and how he had no choice but to make them laugh in order to keep himself alive.

He hated how, in one fell swoop, Hell had robbed him of everything that had made him him. His good looks, his charisma, his respectability— everything. Never in a million years would he have anticipated that this would be his punishment for his misdeeds on Earth, for looking down on others and treating them like objects to be pushed around, but he had to admit, it was a pretty potent punishment nonetheless. And he would do anything to escape it.

---

Vox’s boss was kind of massively projecting her own resentments and trauma onto him. She didn’t actually know that much about him. It was pure luck that her impression of him as an arrogant chauvinist who had treated the people in his life poorly was… you know… accurate.

---

Vox realized that he had a voyeurism kink the third time his boss had sex with someone while he was still in the room. Probably not the outcome she intended, but it wasn’t like Vox could do anything about it anyway. He still felt sexual desire, but he’d spawned in Hell without genitals so that energy had nowhere to go. Just another lovely part of Vox’s Wonderful Afterlife.

---

Most sinners are horrified when they see their new forms for the first time. Vox was just devastated.

He was horrified when he first woke up, of course– transported to a strange new place, surrounded by giant monsters, and barely able to keep from swaying under the weight of his oversized head. No one paid him or his panic any mind save for a few smirks and chuckles. Vox found himself pressed up against a wall, out of the way of the flow of pedestrians, trying to process what was going on. Once he realized something was wrong with his body, he ducked into a nearby store, desperate to find a mirror (and get away from the crowds of fellow sinners). The store clerk let him in; they weren’t supposed to let newlydead into the shop since they usually just cause a scene, but Vox looked harmless, and they felt a little bad for such a tiny, fearful sinner. Vox made a beeline for the nearest mirror.

When his reflection finally came into view, Vox… he was lost for words. Seeing his childlike proportions, it finally registered that the world hadn’t gotten bigger; he’d gotten smaller. His body… there was something wrong with it. It was made of wood and metal like a puppet; only the materials seemed to bend like rubber. Worse than that, it was completely smooth and featureless; his genitals were simply gone. His hands were soft, rounded, and nailless, more like stuffed gloves than human hands. His head was encased— no, not encased, replaced with a television set that looked like it made up the majority of his body weight. Displayed on its screen was a face like something out of a cartoon: large, shiny, googly eyes, a wide mouth, and one conspicuously absent tooth. All topped off with a pair of floppy, overly long antennas that made him resemble some kind of insect.

Vox was speechless, staring at his new body. He felt tears bubbling up as he examined each part of it. He wasn’t sure how, but some part of him knew this wasn’t a dream and that this form would not be temporary. No tears fell though, trapped behind the glass of the— his screen. He couldn’t recall the moment of his death, but the realization of where he must be began to dawn on him. A soft, despairing sound escaped him, and Vox realized his voice, too, had been changed. He was not himself anymore, just this tiny, adorable thing, right out of one of the cartoons he’d been trying to repair the TV so his children could watch. A joke.

Suddenly, Vox felt someone grab him by the arm, dragging him away from the mirror, his feet barely brushing the floor. The owner had noticed a newlydead had snuck in and was having the prerequisite “What have I become?” freakout in their store. Carelessly, they shoved/threw Vox back onto the street and slammed the door behind them. Reeling, trying to wrap his mind around the gravity of the situation, Vox stumbled and collapsed on the sidewalk, surrounded by sinners who either stepped around him like he was nothing or paused for a moment to chuckle at the clumsy newlydead struggling to regain his balance under the weight of his massive head.

---

Vox's own shitty beliefs ended up being used against him during his early years in Hell.

In life, he'd treated his wife and son poorly because they complained about being unhappy with the way things were. Vox believed that if all your physical needs were met and you were able to live comfortably, you had no right to complain. He provided them with everything, and all he asked for in return was for them to be the happy, perfect wife and son he expected them to be. What was so hard about that?!

In death, the tables were turned. Vox was able to live comfortably in a safe environment, doing a job that most sinners would describe as incredibly cushy, but he was desperately unhappy. He was forced to play an inauthentic, demeaning role 24/7 and couldn't complain about it unless he wanted to be punished. Just sit there quietly and smile while the "grownups" are talking. No one wants to hear your silly little opinions. You should be grateful that you're even allowed to be here.

---

Words were Vox's boss' preferred weapon when it came to surreptitiously tormenting him, but she wasn't above using physical violence as a means of "discipline" either. Aside from the antenna and "storage" incidents, she'd occasionally employ "percussive maintenance" at the beginning of his time with her in response to breaks in character or sullen comments. Once or twice, she burnt him with cigarettes in response to particularly "bad" offenses.

---

Vox's boss would give him gifts sometimes. Little presents wrapped up all pretty with a bow. Sometimes, they were for special occasions, like the anniversary of his "coming to live with her"; sometimes, they were "rewards for good behavior." Vox would accept the presents graciously and then never open them, leaving them to collect dust in his room. There were a few occasions when she made him open them in front of her, though. Usually, they were just quaint little trinkets or clothes, but once, she gifted him a goldfish (or the Hellish equivalent) in a tiny bowl. It was the closest she'd gotten to something he'd actually want, yet it still felt like a veiled taunt. It didn't take long for the fish to die; its bowl was simply too small.

---

Vox does his absolute best to keep his past a secret from everyone, particularly Valentino. He knows on some level that it wouldn’t really change anything other than give Val and Vel something else to tease him about, but Vox’s ego is so fragile that he feels like he’d die if they found out. Unfortunately for him, Valentino is incredibly observant when he wants to be. He doesn’t know the specifics, but based on various little things from throughout the years and the pointed insults he’s heard Alastor throw at Vox, he can guess that Vox’s early days in Hell were... less than auspicious. However, he assumes Vox was just some corporate toady, and he would be just as shocked as anyone else to learn how Vox actually began his afterlife.

---

Playing with the idea that Vox’s boss hired him with no ulterior motives; she simply thought he was cute and would be an easy source of entertainment. However, as time went on and she got a better sense of what kind of person Vox was, she began deliberately tormenting him. The abuse and humiliation started off under the pretext that she was only doing it to “correct an attitude problem,” but it soon became clear that her real issue with Vox had nothing to do with his abilities as a performer.

---

It doesn’t really fit with the “lore” I’ve been putting together for this AU, but the idea of Vox trying to go in for various media/performance auditions and either being laughed out of them or told to look into less dignified roles is compelling to me. He looks and sounds so much like a goofy little child; why on Earth would anyone even consider him, especially when there are countless other sinners looking for work whose forms aren’t so distractingly cutesy?

I’ll be honest: Babydoll from Batman TAS is a significant influence on how I conceptualize Proto Vox.

---

Reminds me of fakeannafromthebox's Caterpillar Val AU. Vox is so miserable. He wants to be back in his modified body NOW, but it's going to take a while for them to rebuild it. Val and Vel tease him about it at first... until they realize that Vox is genuinely really hurt by it. He never wanted them to see him like this.

The denizens of Hell are confused as to why Vox is suddenly on a month-long hiatus when he's literally never taken a break from the media before.

---

Been considering whether it should just be happenstance that brings Vox and Alastor together or if Vox should hit his breaking point, go behind his boss' back, and send Alastor a false message in her name, hoping that it will provoke him into killing her.

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Had a mental image today of Vox sitting in on one of his boss’ conversations with a colleague, as per usual. He’s bored and miserable until the two overlords start discussing the Radio Demon. Vox has heard stories— might’ve even caught one or two of Alastor’s broadcasts— but he’s never heard him discussed like an actual person rather than an urban legend. Vox’s boss starts shittalking Alastor, and Vox suddenly gets an idea. He begins secretly recording her, capturing all her private complaints about him on tape. Vox is terrified of what she might do if she discovered what he was doing, but at this point, he's so good at masking his true emotions that she doesn’t even notice anything is off. Vox held onto that recording until he gained access to a communications device. He hesitated for a moment, thinking of all the ways this plan could go wrong and result in his permanent death, but… he couldn’t pass up this opportunity. He couldn’t bear to stay here any longer.

Alastor figured out it was Vox who sent him that message a couple years into their friendship, but he didn’t hold it against him. In fact, he was impressed with Vox’s determination, taking his fate back into his hands regardless of the risks. He eventually told Vox so himself when the topic came up years later.

---

Vox once made the mistake of snapping that he was not a child at one of his boss’ colleagues who had been talking about him like he was too stupid to understand what they were saying. Honestly, the momentary shock on the colleague’s face was not worth the ensuing, agonizing conversation where his boss muted him, apologized to the other overlord, then prompted them to try to guess his real age, and took far too much pleasure in explaining to them that despite Vox’s appearance, he was actually 41.

---

Thinking about Proto Vox sitting in on his boss' overlord meetings like the Egg Bois in episode 3. Most of the time, his boss would hold him in her lap like a doll, but sometimes, she'd leave him sitting on the ground until the meeting ended. He wished he had a way to put the information he was “eavesdropping” on to good use, but he wasn't allowed to leave the stupid compound without being accompanied by his boss.

---

One particularly dehumanizing experience Vox remembers far more vividly than he would like was the first time his overlord stripped him naked without his consent so she could redress him in a new outfit she’d picked out. This became a semi-frequent occurrence, but it never stopped making his skin crawl. This sort of thing wasn’t supposed to happen to someone like him, and yet here he was, robbed not only of the freedom to choose his own clothes but even to dress himself if his boss so willed it.

Even over half a century later, Vox still needs to be coaxed and convinced by Valentino to surrender control during sex. He has no intention of ever telling Val why having someone else undress him puts him on edge.

---

cw sexual assault

The first time Vox’s overlord stripped him naked was also when she discovered that he had no genitals. Of course, she couldn’t let that fact go uncommented on and groped between his legs to confirm, cooing all the while about how perfect Vox was. Vox didn’t even have time to dissociate during the experience; it all happened so fast. Before he had time to process what happened, he was already being redressed in whatever stupid outfit she’d picked out for him that time. The dissociation came later.

In hindsight, Vox thinks it’s sort of darkly funny how he felt as though he’d been sexually assaulted despite not having any sex organs at the time. It’s really not.

---

Thank you!!!

Yeah, Vox is extremely uncomfortable with thinking of himself as a victim. It's easier to just compartmentalize the experience and tell himself that of course he wasn't sexually assaulted– sex wasn't even involved!

At the time, he had no idea how to feel about it. Before he even had time to process the event, he was expected to just move on with the day like nothing happened. Vox wished he could've just forgotten about it– it only lasted for a few seconds, it "didn't count" because he didn't have any genitals to grope, and, in his successful-white-1950s-man brain, groping wasn't even that bad anyway– but the feeling of violation lingered, no matter how hard he tried to dismiss it or distract himself. He eventually managed to push those feelings away, but the memory will still pop up on occasion and he'll have to convince himself all over again that it wasn't any different than all the other times his boss manhandled him.

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Oh, I'm glad you liked the post!

Yeah, I can see Alastor giving that roach speech to Vox when he's trying to convince him to stop modifying himself. Vox is just like "You think I'm a bug???" He never noticed; he was too focused on the cartoon/TV thing. Message not received.

Alastor probably has weird feelings about the way Vox's old boss treated him. On one hand, it's kind of funny, and Alastor's clearly not opposed to treating people like pets, given his later relationship with Husk. On the other... he feels a weird sort of kinship with Vox in so many regards, and his relationship with his overlord... [leak discussion] it's uncomfortably similar to Alastor's with his contract holder– tricked into a bad deal, treated with condescension, and forced to pretend to adore them in public [end leak discussion]. Alastor likes the idea of helping Vox gain power and rise above his station, but not him changing himself in order to accomplish that goal– he sees too much of himself in Vox to stand that.

Vox doing ad reads/voiceovers for Alastor's show is a great idea. Perfect way to get back into the industry without opening himself up to mockery; plus, he's got a wonderful voice. Would also give him another reason to hate radio once he and Al split: audio-only work will always be a reminder of a time when he couldn't bear to be seen.

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Might incorporate how long it’s taking me to come up with a name for Vox’s boss by making it so he’s only allowed to call her “Ma’am”/“Madam”/“Miss” instead of her actual sinner name.

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Thoughts on Proto Vox in the RAM verse

Proto Vox thoughts that heavily feature my OCs

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Once he finally gained the ability to project a functioning mouth onto his screen, Vox got himself into some… interesting situations trying to keep up with Alastor whenever they went out for drinks. He didn’t care that he was half Alastor’s size; he’s drinking just as much as he is! Maybe even more!!

Those were some of the funniest nights Alastor had (and still has) ever experienced.

---

Thinking about Vox, dead for a week or so, with cracks in his screen and dressed only in a button-up shirt he'd stripped off a corpse double his size, pitching himself to his soon-to-be overlord and trying not to come across as desperate as he truly was. The streets of Hell aren't kind to anyone, but especially not to defenseless-looking, newly arrived sinners with body parts that could potentially be resold. In his short time in Hell, Vox had already had multiple people try to strip him for parts and had only escaped them by the skin of his teeth. He'd barely been able to sleep since he arrived, constantly on guard for more attackers. He looked a fucking wreck, but that only added to his charm, in his boss' opinion. He looked like a starving Victorian orphan trying to give a serious business pitch– so cute!

---

Vox wishes he could feel comfortable in his bedroom at the compound. Being in there means he’s away from his overlord— that he can finally drop the act and just breathe. It’s a nice room, too, especially compared to the living quarters of most other employees. Vox feels as though the privacy and comfort should be enough. But… it isn’t really his room, is it?

His overlord chose the decor: soft and twee and old-fashioned. She can start pounding on the door, ordering him to come out and join her at any moment. The fact she’s too tall to fit in the room is small comfort. It feels like living in a dollhouse; there’s the illusion of privacy, but one wall is missing, allowing the owner to move things around or snatch up the doll inside at a moment’s notice.

---

Honestly, Vox's boss definitely got her "money's" worth out of Vox. He wasn't lying about being a multi-talented performer; he had a wide array of skills.

He had extensive training and experience with dance and comedy (although he was 25 years out of practice) from his childhood on Vaudeville. He was a consummate singer, good at improv, and familiar with a handful of instruments, particularly the piano. He could act fairly well (although he was always more convincing when he came up with stuff on the spot) and had even become a perfect mimic due to his demonic form.

Vox's overlord couldn't have asked for a better entertainer, and she counted herself lucky that he just happened to wander into her building one day looking for work– she didn't even need to place an ad!

Vox was proud of his various skills– he sure as hell hadn't spent years working himself to the bone to hone them for nothing, after all– but he missed being the host rather than the entertainment. He hadn't had to perform like this since he was a child, and it was just as exhausting as he remembered.

---

Vox's primary job was to be a jester for his overlord, but he was also somewhat of an assistant to her. He'd make or serve her and her guests drinks (alcohol, coffee, whatever), carry things for her (which would often be embarrassingly difficult, given his size), and run very minor errands for her (usually just delivering messages to employees a few doors down). Additionally, once she discovered that he could record audio, she started using him as a living tape recorder. She'd bring him to meetings, have him record the conversation without the other party knowing, and then play the audio back once they were in private so she could take note of the exact phrasing and use it against them later on. This last use for Vox ended up being her downfall; she kept him so cloistered that she never thought that he'd be able to use her own words against her one day.

---

Up until the incident where he tried to quit, Vox’s boss would sometimes casually threaten to replace him if he didn’t immediately bend to her will. There were countless other sinners and Hellborn that were perfectly capable of doing his job without an attitude problem; why shouldn’t she just trade him in for one of them? Or perhaps she should employ another entertainer to work alongside him (i.e. compete with him). If Vox thought he was too good for this job, then he could go back to the streets whenever he liked. These threats almost always succeeded in getting him to comply, and she was a bit disappointed when she realized they were no longer as effective as they’d once been.

---

Honestly, Vox’s boss getting another “pet” would be a whole shitshow. When Vox was alive, he once outed a coworker as gay because he was getting more airtime than him, which led to the coworker’s family institutionalizing him. And that was when the stakes were just career success. Vox may hate his job, but it’s what keeps him safe and alive. He’d feel so threatened by the new person that he’d probably end up getting them killed just to protect his position. His overlord is 100% aware of what's going on, but she gets a kick out of watching Vox do whatever it takes to stay in her favor.

---

Vox actually starts initiating affectionate interactions with her out of desperation not to be replaced. His boss (who lowkey only wanted make sure he didn’t grow complacent in his position) is delighted. The poor imp she hired has no idea what they’ve been sucked into. Vox is cold and hostile when they’re in private but then will turn on a dime the second he sees their overlord. Their boss is constantly doing subtle little things to pit them against each other, but the imp feels like they never truly had a chance of surpassing and replacing Vox. All the imp wants to do is make enough to feed their family, but in the end, all they get is being ripped in two by vines when Vox snitches on them for taking a few extra bucks from his boss’ desk.

---

In the modern day, Vox and Alastor disagree about how they met. Alastor will say that he rescued Vox from his overlord and took him in afterward. Vox will say (or rather, would say, since he never speaks about his past) that he rescued his damn self and chose to stick with Alastor because it was the best possible option at the time. Neither of them are wrong, but their mutual bitterness skews their perception of the situation; Vox, the "helpless charity case," and Alastor, the "means to an end."

---

velvette seeing the kind of clothes vox used to have to wear for work and just. vomiting on his behalf

---

Vox thought he was at a bit of an advantage when his soon-to-be boss offered him a simple deal sealed with a handshake: serve as an entertainer for her and she'll give him a safe place to live. Verbal agreements aren't as enforceable as written ones, and the vagueness of the deal left him plenty of room to wriggle his way out if need be!

What Vox didn't realize was that things in Hell don't work like they do on Earth. Sure, vague deals have loopholes, but it's the person with more power who's usually able to take advantage of them as opposed to the "victim." Additionally, written contracts have clauses– specific stipulations that must be abided by. If he'd negotiated things a bit more closely, he could've demanded that she allow him freedom of mobility or had to accept any attempts at a resignation. As is, she was able to keep him at her side at all times and threaten him into staying because there wasn't anything in the deal that said she couldn't do those things; as long as she was giving him a place to stay, she was upholding her end of the bargain.

Vox definitely remembered this lesson when he started drawing up contracts/deals of his own during his later endeavors. Deals can be just as binding as soul contracts. Vagueness is an invaluable tool when it comes to tricking people into bad deals, although granular specificity certainly has a place too, so long as you can get the sucker not to read the fine print.

---

Out of all the things Vox had to do to entertain his overlord, slapstick was his least favorite. It was just so undignified. He already hated having to play dumb and childish, but being the butt of the joke was so much worse than simply being doted on. He couldn’t stand being laughed at, but he didn’t have another choice; if his boss wanted comedy, he had to give it to her, otherwise he’d be punished. For as much baggage he had regarding dance, he would chose it over pretending to hurt himself (or genuinely hurting himself) for his boss’ amusement every time.

This hatred of being laughed at persisted even after he escaped his overlord’s clutches. Vox eventually learned to use his unthreatening appearance to his advantage, but back in the day, a good way to get your shit rocked by the Radio Demon’s tiny apprentice was to laugh at him when he wasn’t trying to be funny.

---

As of right now, Vox's sinner name has always been "Vox." He's eternally grateful that he'd already picked out his sinner name by the time he approached his overlord, because who knows what ridiculous name she would've saddled him with otherwise. However, if Vivziepop ever talks about Cockroach Vox and it turns out he didn't used to be named "Vox," then that name would've been the one he went by up until he met Alastor.

---

Vox was not an overly foul-mouthed person when he was alive, although he certainly wasn't afraid to swear if the situation called for it. However, that casual relationship with tasteful speech went completely out the window after he died. Aside from the in-built censor that kept him from audibly cursing or talking about subjects like sex, he now had a very restrictive persona that he needed to play into. Having to say shit like "Gee whiz" or "Golly" in order to keep up the "cute little cartoon" act was maddening. It was such a relief when Alastor figured out a way to shut off the censor; Vox finally had complete freedom in how he chose to speak again. Honestly, he may have gone a bit too far in the other direction, but given the culture of Hell, it's more unusual to be excessively clean with your speech than it is to swear every other sentence.

---

I wonder if any of the other, older overlords remember Vox from his early days. His boss had a habit of bringing him to meetings and having him perform at parties, so someone like Zestial would’ve probably encountered him at least a couple of times.

On one hand, Vox is beyond grateful that none of the old-timers recognize him as “Lantana’s little lapdog.” On the other, he’s slightly offended that no one paid him enough mind back then to remember him.

Zestial 100% knows who Vox used to be, he’s just choosing to keep that information to himself for the time being.

---

Thinking about a scenario where Vox gets stuck in a hopelessness spiral that causes him to break character in front of his boss. He asks her why she’s doing this to him; what does she get out of all this? Lantana is annoyed by his self-pity and asks him if he has any idea how lucky he is.

Oh, poor Vox, forced to live in the lap of luxury. Condemned to perform wholesome little routines for one of the most powerful overlords in the city while other sinners (female and male) have to prostitute themselves to survive. What an awful fate, having to let her spoil him, love him. Countless sinners would kill to have half of what he has, and here he is complaining because his ego is too fragile to handle not being “in charge” anymore. She’s shocked he’s so ungrateful that he can’t appreciate the gift she’s given him; childhood is a beautiful thing, after all.

Vox knows it’s all lies— she enjoys humiliating him, forcing him to smile through gritted teeth as he plays the demeaning role she’s picked out for him— but after years in her clutches, a small, animal part of his brain wonders if she’s right. Is she being honest when she says she only hurts him to correct him? Does she actually believe that taking away his freedom and keeping him in a gilded cage is love? Is he really better off here than he would be out in the world, struggling to force people to see him as the man he really was used to be?

No. No, he can’t let her get in his head like this. He’s had to give up so much of himself to her; she can’t have his thoughts too. Just don’t say anything. Let her think she’s made him second-guess himself. Don’t allow her to wrestle what little control he has left from his grasp.

---

Vox’s slogan, “Trust us!” started off as “Trust me!” After a while with Alastor, Vox learned to start playing into his harmless appearance in order to gain people’s trust, only to lead them to their deaths or otherwise betray them later on. Most people thought he was either a literal child, stupid, or so weak that they could easily overpower him if need be, so it was easy for him to convince them to let their guards down. Vox managed to get his first few contracts using this method. Trust him! He couldn’t hurt a fly, honest!

Alastor loved this routine, not only because it was hilarious to watch people unknowingly dig their own graves, but because it was useful to him as well. Alastor’s reputation had become so fearsome that it was difficult to get people to stick around long enough to ensnare unless they were truly desperate. It was helpful to have Vox around to lure people in, or to just run errands that would’ve otherwise been a pain due to people’s annoying habit of fleeing at the sight of him. They were a good team, he and Vox; Alastor couldn’t understand why he would choose to give that up in order to become an off-brand copy of him. Yes, it wasn’t the most dignified niche, but it was an important one! And one that very few could pull off even half as well as Vox!

---

Random thought: Vox’s original voice made it impossible for others to tell whether he was a child or an adult. He didn’t quite sound like a real child, but his voice was pitched in such a way that he didn’t read as an adult either— sort of like when adult voice actors play kids. Vox could still hear Himself in certain inflections and in moments when he was allowed to drop the act, but it was extremely alienating, never truly feeling like himself even when he was doing something as simple as speaking.

---

I don’t subscribe to the “Valentino started off with his own abusive pimp” theory (not because I think it’s implausible, it’s just that my HC version of him only worked under the previous overlord of the sex trade for like a year before killing them), plus I think Vox and Val met after Vox was already somewhat established, but whoo-boy, the two of them meeting while they’re both still under the thumbs of their respective abusive bosses would be fun.

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Two concepts:

Vox’s boss brings him along to an overlord party that Val happens to be performing at. Some drunk dumbass picks him up and shoves him onto the platform where Val was pole dancing— they thought it’d be funny to make the sexless little clown interact with the dirty whore. That was Vox and Val’s first meeting. (Loosely inspired by some of kibbles-bits’ art)

Vox and Val’s respective bosses start up a casual relationship, resulting in the two of them visiting each other’s bases semi-frequently. They get to talking and eventually come to realize that, holy shit, the other guy is an actual person?? And a fun/interesting/clever person too???

#redlady speaks #proto vox au #hazbin hotel #vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #vox hazbin #vox the tv demon #2013 vox #cockroach vox #alastor #radiosilence #radiostatic

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milkpup · 11 months ago

Text

｡⋆ʚ♡ a bitch meant for breeding

›› nsfw 18+ jjk oneshot!

art by the amazing @g00miato !!!!!!! literally my fave artist (uncensored is on her twitter and it's wowza holy moly)

FULL SPICY UNCENSORED VER IS ON @g00miato twitter! i am BEGGING u to look!!!

ʚ ao3 ɞ / ʚ kofi ɞ / ʚ fic masterlist ɞ

›› zenin naoya x y/n ›› 18+ f!reader ›› wc: 3,207

‹𝟹 summary: you’re naoya’s wife, and he’s determined to treat you like the pet he believes you are. he takes your sex life up a notch, showing you how he really feels about you:3

‹𝟹 fandom: jjk, jujutsu kaisen

‹𝟹 genres / warnings: petplay, assault / impact play

‹𝟹 tags: au- no powers, spit kink, spitting, breeding, degradation, name calling, pet play, puppy play, light praise, slapping, spanking, choking, rough sex, misogyny, owner / pet dynamic, leash + collar, naoya has a big dick, light biting, light blood, cum swallowing, rough fingering, finger fucking, orgasm denial + delay, throat fucking, mating press, doggy style, missionary

‹𝟹 notes: typically i see naoya more as someone to be subby (bc i wanna put him in his place). but one of my fave artists posted the pic above + the uncensored one, and i went fkn FERAL. like i would be naoya’s dog frfr. i wanna be his pet frfr. this is completely self-indulgent and pure smut. enjoy the ride:3 i made naoya a bit mean, but ultimately i made him a lil nice at the end. my fic and i want nice naoya rn >:(((( (even tho we all know hes a certified misogynist lolol)

!! - again, PLEASE READ TAGS BEFORE CONTINUING - !!

! - ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ - !

The Zenin clan was known for its harsh treatment towards the women of the clan. They don’t allow them to educate themselves and they are forced in domestic roles and used to make children. While it gives the woman’s family a good reputation to marry into the Zenin clan, her life usually got worse as a result.

Marrying Naoya Zenin was no exception to this rule; if anything, it was actually worse in comparison. As much as Naoya makes your blood boil, he makes your pussy drip even more. You can’t stand to be around him. His personality is insufferable and he’s a misogynistic asshole, just like everyone else in this hellscape of a family. And despite this, he knows exactly how to pleasure you in ways you never thought you’d be into.

It started out as normal, vanilla sex even before you two were officially married. He never tried anything too crazy, just using your body like he owned you, but never taking it anywhere. Over time, you put up less resistance when he told you to do things for him. While it pissed you off sometimes to be his basically his servant, he always rewarded you in the end and you couldn’t deny how amazing it was every time.

One night, after he had been out late drinking with buddies, he comes home with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. You greet him at the door, taking care of his coat and belongings. He’s looking at you like a predator. He scoops you up, trailing kisses from your chin to your lips. Naoya bites your bottom lip slightly, drawing a hint of blood as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, meeting yours. He’s tasting every part of your mouth as he carries you to your room.

Despite his drunkenness, his coordination when tossing you onto the bed was surprisingly swift. He pushed you against the bed with such animosity it was like something had possessed him. He starts nipping at your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and spit along your jawline before meeting your lips once more. He twirled his tongue around yours, sucking every part he could. He pulled his lips away from yours, a string of spit connecting you two. “Open,” he commanded. And you did just that. You opened your mouth as he spit into it, telling you to swallow it after.

He watched with satisfaction at your instant submission. You were like his pet. And he wanted you to know that. He kissed you once more before pulling apart and walking over to a drawer, opening it and pulling out a leash and a collar. You were only slightly able to make out his figure, his form quite hazy in the darkness of the room, but you could hear the jingle and clank of the collar.

He walked up to you, a hand offering the collar to you. He had it engraved with your name beforehand, saving this for the right moment. “Will you be a good bitch for me, ____?”

You were looking up at him, eyes wide with a blush creeping across your face. You nod, squeaking out a quiet “Yes sir” in response to his question.

Naoya grinned as he reached to buckle the collar around your neck. “Good girl. Such a good little puppy for me, huh? I’m honestly a little surprised you raised no objections. Such a dumb little puppy, aren’t you?” He buckled the collar and moved his hand to your cheek and caressed you softly right before he pulls his hand away and slaps your face.

You gasp at the impact, looking up at Naoya with a mixture of fear and arousal. His hand snakes its way up the side of your face, before resting on the crown of your head and gripping you by a fistful of hair. He gently tugs your head to meet his, kissing you once more. “Be a good girl for me and I’ll make it worth it, okay?” He says as he pulls back, hooking the leash to the collar recently buckled around your neck. You only nod up at him, eyes saying everything you can’t with your mouth.

He rubs your head a bit, praising you. “Good pup.” You blush at the pet name, feeling heat spread in your body. “Take my clothes off, sweetheart. Be a good bitch and prep me after too, yeah?” He finishes by tugging your head slightly, just enough to add some pressure.

Your hands meet his waistline first. You tug at the drawstring of his sweats, pulling them off. His briefs follow suit, exposing his thick cock. You never would have guessed when you first met him, but he had a piercing going through the tip of his cock. It always added an extra sensation, and it was interesting to look at. You always wondered how painful it must have been.

Naoya’s cock bounces out of his sweats, precum already leaking from the swollen, angry looking tip. He’s looking down at you, expectantly. You don’t immediately budge, and so Naoya pulls on the leash attached to your collar, pulling you up to meet his cock. “Suck it, slut.” He commands as he’s tugging your head closer and closer.

You meet the tip of his cock, kissing it lightly, trying to be cute. Naoya grunts, pushing your lips open with his thumb and forcing his cock into your mouth. You barely have time to prepare yourself before Naoya is shoving his thick cock down your throat, still tugging at the leash and bringing you even closer into him. Your hands are trying to push away as his cock is pushed deep into your throat, cutting off your air. You can barely breathe through your nose as you struggle to push against him, but this only makes Naoya snaked a hand through your hair and push your head against his cock even more. “I know you can handle it, whore. I thought you’d be a good girl for me, so why are you resisting?” He taunts as he fucks into your throat causing drool to drip from your lips down your chin.

Tears were forming at your eyes as you look up to see Naoya fully immersed in his pleasure, head thrown back as he throat fucks you. He can see the tears starting to form at your eyes, only serving to turn him on more in a sick, sadistic sense of pride. He releases his grip from you momentarily, allowing you to catch your breath for only a few mere moments before resuming his rough abuse of your throat.

He picks up speed, not allowing you to get used to his erratic rhythm as you feel his cock start to twitch, warning you of what’s to come. You don’t really like swallowing, not that Naoya gives a fuck whether you do or not. Naoya does as he pleases. And right now, he would enjoy watching you swallow his cum. He likes the idea of fucking his cum down your throat, but he wants to watch you swallow it instead. Thus, he warns you before he’s about to cum and pulls out. “Open wide for me, pup. Time for your milk~” He purrs as he strokes his thick cock, shooting thick ropes of cum into your mouth.

The taste is horrible, and there’s so much it’s spilling out your mouth, just how Naoya wants you. “Swallow it, slut. Drink it like the good girl you are.” You swallow everything before opening your mouth and showing Naoya. He praises you, before bending down and spitting into your mouth following it with a sloppy kiss. He pulls away before pushing you onto your back on the bed. He pulls your top off first, watching the way your tits bounce when the shirt comes off. He trails kisses down your abdomen before reaching the waistband your pants. He tugs at it with a finger before completely pulling them off, leaving your panties on.

Naoya pushes your legs apart before positioning himself between them. He spits on one of his fingers as his other hand meets your clothed cunt, before pulling the panties to the side. His other finger rubs your slit, feeling how utterly soaked you are from just being teased and facefucked. His long, slender finger slides over your hole before making its way up to your clit, rubbing small circles around it. Naoya can hear your pathetic attempts at stifling your moans like you’re embarrassed, and he makes it one of his goals to make you louder. He wants everyone to hear what a dirty whore you are.

His finger makes it way back to your tight hole, slipping itself inside the wet and warm entrance. Naoya feels you immediately clench at the intrusion, hearing your cute moans as a result. “Good girl, let me hear how much you love me doing this yeah?” He encourages you as he pushes his finger all the way in, before immediately pulling it out and fucking you with it all over again. He wastes no time in adding another finger, trying to stretch your tight cunt open as much as he could. His fingers are drilling into you, making lewd wet slapping noises that fill the quiet room. Your soft moans betray how aroused you are.

Naoya pulls out to your chagrin, before rolling you over onto your tummy across his lap. He spreads your legs open once again before forcing his fingers back into your needy hole. You yelp out in surprise as his fingers slip inside, scissoring themselves and spreading you open. Naoya uses his other hand to spread your ass open, giving him a close up view of your weeping hole taking only 2 of his fingers and already struggling. “You’re taking it like such a good slut, yeah? You want me to stretch you out after?” He asks, feeling you clench around his fingers the moment he finishes his question. He laughs a bit. “I guess that’s your response, huh pup?”

It's that damn pet name again. You moan he lifts his hand to slap your ass. Naoya does not hold back in the slightest, repeating his slaps until he’s satisfied with the redness spreading across your ass. He pushes in another finger, this time feeling your stretch cunt at its limit. He pulls your body up into a sort of doggy position, you on your knees face down onto the bed. His fingers are slamming into your cunt, your juices dripping onto his hand and wrist then onto the bed.

Naoya bends down beside you, purring into your ear. “You’re such a good whore, aren’t you?” Your cunt clenches in response to his praise-degradation and he chuckles beside you. “I love bitches who make messes so easily, and you’re just like that. I bet you’re already close just from me fucking your tight cunt with my fingers.” He smirks at his taunt. You’re moaning into the bed, drool spilling from the sides of your mouth as his fingers continue their relentless assault on your cunt. He brings his other hand to your clit, thumb circling the sensitive nub as he brings you one step closer. Naoya was right, you were close, and he could tell just from your body how desperate you were to cum and make a mess right in front of him.

“You gonna cum, baby? Gonna make a mess for me, yeah?” You could only whine into the bedsheets, face pressed against the mattress as you felt Naoya bringing you ever so closer to your release. His thumb pressed harder onto your clit, rubbing it with more intensity as his other three fingers fucked into you with ferocity. You were drooling all over the sheet as you whined, feeling yourself tighten up around Naoya’s fingers as you feel that knot in your stomach start to snap—

And then Naoya pulls away both his hands, right as he felt you about to be pushed over the edge. You lift your head up, whining as you pout and look at him. He has the cheekiest grin plastered on his face as he brings his fingers to his mouth and cleans your juices off them. “Sorry, pup, but you don’t cum until I tell you to. Got that?” Your pitiful whines come out as a response, still squirming under Naoya at the loss of touch.

You softly squeak out, “Yes sir.” In response to Naoya’s question. You would do anything for him in this moment if it meant he would let you cum all over him. Literally anything. You would bark for him if he asked; he probably would like it given the puppy stuff anyways. Fuck, you’d even do tricks for him if he really wanted to, anything if it meant he praised you and helped you cum.

Naoya smiled even wider, setting a hand on your head and petting you. “Good girl,” he coos. You feel your heart melt and your pussy throb at the praise. He’s making it painfully slow for you, taking his time before he’s going to touch you again. He pushes your face back into the mattress, scooting your ass closer to him in the process.

Naoya parts your thighs ever so slightly, giving him better access to your sloppy cunt. He lines his thick cock against your hole, pushing his pierced head in ever so slightly. Even with his three fingers fucking your cunt and spreading it out, his cock was still a tight fit for you. He grips your hips with his firm hands as he pushes into you in one sadistic push, bottoming out into your tight cunt. You yelp out in pain as he slams his thick cock into you, feeling every ridge, vein, and especially his fucking piercing. You didn’t think it would feel extra good, but it’s an added sensation that you can’t get from anything else, and it feels fucking amazing.

You moan against the bedsheets loud enough for Naoya to hear as he pulls his cock out and slams it back in. “Fuck, ____, your cunt is so tight. It’s like it’s made just for me, yeah? A hole meant for me to breed, isn’t it? You’re just a bitch meant for breeding, aren’t you?” Naoya asks as he roughly spanks your ass in tandem with his thrusts. “Answer me, pup, what are you?” Naoya demands an answer as he hardly tugs at the leash, pulling you up against him.

The collar is pushing against your airway as he tugs at the leash supporting your weight. Because of this, you can barely choke out the words he was expecting to hear from you. “I’m a bitch… meant for breeding...” You sputter out as his thrusts increase in velocity and force. You moan against him as he pulls your body fully against his, fucking into you from behind.

“Good girl,” Naoya coos as he places a gentle kiss on your neck before biting down hard in the same spot. He draws a bit of blood, licking the area clean and kissing it once more before he lets go of you and pushes you onto the bed again.

Without breaking contact between you two, Naoya expertly flips you onto your back. He never stops his rhythm fucking into your abused cunt while moving your legs. He fucks you a bit in a missionary position, looking down into you as tears are forming at your eyes. “Fuck, Naoya, it feels sho fucking good~!!!” You slur your words out as you look into your eyes, his thick cock never relenting. You reach your arms around his neck as you pull him down to you into a quick kiss.

He pushes away from you, but not before gently biting on your lip first. He pulls his cock out momentarily as he places both your legs onto his shoulders. He pushes his body fully into yours, trying to feel every inch of your body. He slams his cock back into your messy hole as you moan into him. You can feel his warm breath as he trails kisses from your jawline to your neck, biting you in almost the same spot as before. The sharp pain only adds a distinct sensation that enhances your pleasure.

You can feel the knot building in your stomach again, threatening to snap at any moment. “Naoya, m gonna—m gonna cum, soon!!!” You stumble out your words, trying to warn him in advance so this time he can reward you.

Naoya grins and fucks into you harder, drilling his thick cock into your tight cunt. “Good slut, cum for your owner, bitch. I own you and this cunt, don’t I?” He taunts you as his cock hits your g-spot, hitting that bundle of nerves in such a way that has you seeing stars.

“Th-thank you!! Yesh, yesss you own me Naoya!!! I wanna be your dumb pet pleaseee imgonnacum im gonna cum!!!” Your words are stumbling out now, unable to control any of them as you feel the knot in your stomach break and you get not pushed over the edge, but metaphorically kicked into your orgasm. It feels like you’re crashing into the pleasure that is Naoya’s cock as you basically scream, feeling yourself squirt and make a mess around Naoya’s cock and the bed.

He reaches a hand to grip around your throat, cutting off your loud proclamations of pleasure. “Be quiet, bitch” He spits his words out as he rams into your cunt. You can feel his cock twitch and release his thick load, grunting as he fills your womb to the brim with his cum. His grip around your throat releases as he pushes himself off of you, pulling his cock out. Some of the cum overflows from your cunt, dripping out of your hole. He reaches a finger down, lapping up some with his finger and pushing it back inside, placing your panties back in the same position as before.

“Don’t let any spill out. You’re my bitch that’s meant to be knocked up by me. I’m sure you’re so excited to be a mommy, aren’t you?” In your fucked out state, all you can do is nod in a stupor as you try to catch your breath.

Naoya lifts your head and props a small pillow behind it as he climbs to in front of you, cocking staring straight at you. “Be a good girl and clean me up, pup.” You look up at him with half-lidded eyes, still reeling from your mind shattering orgasm mere moments before. Naoya’s thumb opens your mouth as his cock meets your lips. You stick your tongue out, placing kisses on his cock and licking his cock clean.

Once he’s satisfied with your cleanup, he moves beside you and kisses you. He pulls away and looks into your eyes as he caresses your cheek. “I love you, ____. You’re such a good girl for me.” You look into him and grin, as he playfully smacks your cheek. He places a kiss over the slight red mark he leaves before getting up to gather clothes for you.

‹𝟹 notes: how this fic got me feeling:

but frfr this pic got me going crazy im like feral and unhinged. i rly am a monkey. i think geto suguru was on to smthn frfr. i see hot jjk men i start fucking hooting like a monkey, going crazy when i see their bananas frfr

- if u wanna be tagged in my works / updates, pls lmk :3c!

‹𝟹 notifs: @vvxxccaa @arylaa @starshipxoxo

ʚ join my notifs ɞ

(･ω･)つ divider creds to @/cafekitsune and @/eloquentreverie

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epicbuddieficrecs · 11 months ago

Text

Weekly Recap | January 29th-February 4th 2024

Ao3 history still fucked :/

Repeating again: if I've ever reblogged one of your WIP fics, consider this my permission to tag me in them!!

Complete

🔥 Say You Were Made to Be Mine by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Canon Divergent - Different First Meeting, Soulmarks AU | 11K | Teen): It's Valentine's Day 2018, and Eddie saves a man from choking to death in the middle of a restaurant. It's only after the man is rushed away by paramedics that Eddie realizes his hands are green. The man he saved is his soulmate. And he doesn't even know his name let alone how to find him.

For hope I'd give my everything by dragon_rider/ @evanbdiaz (Post S1, CW: Eating Disorders | 8K | Mature): After the disaster of his first date with Abby, Buck’s relationship with food changes rather dramatically.

where would you rather die by tempestaurora/ @tempestaurora (Pacific Rim AU | 4K | Teen): “Care to explain why you’ve brought a child to a military base?” Bobby asked when they returned. The base was alight with celebration; the day had been saved, the world was safe for a little longer. “Uh.” Buck glanced back at Christopher, currently talking to Karen Wilson from the research division. “He was an unaccompanied minor?” “So we leave him with the social workers, with first responders,” Bobby said, a pointedly raised eyebrow in his direction. “His dad’s a cadet at the PPDC,” Buck replied. “And his grandmother probably died in the attack, so it just felt… I don’t know, morally right?”

i've been dying to catch you dizzy by diazbegins/ @evanbegins (Esablished Buddie, Fluff | 2K | Teen): Eddie and Buck go ice-skating. Oh, and Chris is there too!

🔥 The Aftermath of Liberation and Love Confessions by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Post-S5E9, Getting Together | 17K | Teen): Still, Buck says, “Yeah, Eddie. Why don’t you teach us. What would you say if you were professing your love?” You mean something besides, “In the event of my untimely death, I made you legal guardian of my child”? ~ In which Eddie comes out, sexuality is complicated but coffee is not, Buck makes an excessive salad and is also roasted, everyone has a love confession, and December is the most dramatic time of year.

let the choir bells sing by foxwatson/ @eddiediazes (Madney Wedding, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): All at once, Eddie has an idea. It’s definitely the stupidest idea he’s ever had in his entire life, but he has it all the same, and there’s no time to come up with a better one. He puts his hands on Buck’s elbows, tugs him in closer, and says, “Kiss me.”

When You Broke Her Heart, I'm Watching it Burn by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Post-S5E11, Buck/Taylor Break-Up | 4K | General): When Buck confesses he kissed someone, Taylor makes an assumption about who. Eddie deals with what all of it means for his own future while picking up the pieces for both Buck and Taylor.

🔥Plus or Minus by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (S5 | 10K | General): “Why are you cleaning out the kitchen? Why is my stuff in boxes?” Eddie slows, then stops. “Figured you’d want it back.” It’s quieter. Pained. When he says it. “I haven’t decided anything. So unless you’re kicking me out—” “Buck. Come on.” He’s not angry or snapping. It’s still quiet, and somehow that hurts even more. He’s resigned and defeated, and Buck is a scooped out, gutted, hollow shell. “I know how this ends the same way you do. You want to be loved, you want to be married. You’re going to leave. Might as well…” His voice cracks before he can finish and get it under control. “Shouldn’t drag it out.” ~ Taylor is offered a job across the country and asks Buck to go with her. Buck has to figure out if he wants to start over or if he has a reason to stay right where he is.

Color Him Father, Color Him Love by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Post-S6E12 | 3K | General): “Connor was worried he wouldn’t feel like it’s really his kid. But I put him back in Connor’s arms, and I could see the way his face changed. The way he lit up and teared up and might have cried because that is his son. And all I could think was that I know that feeling. I know what it feels like to hold a kid and care about them and want to protect them. But it’s so different when it feels like they’re yours. It’s so much more. Even if you didn’t— Even if it’s not biological and you’re not. You’re not really the father. Because I hold Chris— I hold him and I feel like he is part of me.” ~ Buck has a revelation about what he is to Chris. And to Eddie.

turns out freedom ain’t nothing but missing you by Daffi_990_ao3/ @daffi-990 (Post-S6, Getting Together | 4K | Not rated): To protect his heart, Eddie pulls away from Buck when he starts dating Natalia. When he decides to move to B-shift, Buck finally confronts him and certain feelings finally come to light.

with blood in my nose by hammersmiths/ @henswilsons (Canon Divergent, S4E14: Survivors | 9K | Teen): The spray of blood hits him, first. And then Buck drops like a fucking stone. or, Buck is the one who gets shot instead of Eddie.

🔥 3 Men 1 Baby by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Canon Divergent, Accidental Baby Acquisition | 21K | General): It’s a good thing the groceries have made it to the table, because the eggs would certainly have cracked from Eddie dropping the bags to the floor. Because Evan Buckley was standing there holding a baby. A baby. OR: Buck, Eddie, and Chim get a baby. Here's what happens.

you can see it with the lights out (you are in love) by wikiangela/ @wikiangela (Post-S6, Love Confessions | 5K | General): Turns out, Natalia does see Buck, though maybe not in the way he expected. In which Natalia realizes Buck's in love with Eddie and help him see it, too.

we could be corny by devirnis/ @devirnis (Established Buddie | 1,6K | General): Or, Chim and Maddie have Buck and Eddie over for their first official couples’ game night.

🔥 Facets of a Diamond by countrygirlsfun/ @acountrygirlsfun (Canon S1-S2 | 35K | Teen): Southern California is where Buck has spent the most time since leaving Pennsylvania. Of all the places he’s lived and worked over the last few years, this place is where he decided to stay. It’s why he picked LAFD: to put down some roots. It’s warm, has the ocean, and it’s the opposite coast of his parents. So if he’s going to be here for a while, he thinks he’ll need to make an effort to let people in.

a little of that human touch by devirnis/ @devirnis (Established Buddie, Secret relationship | 1,5K | General): Buck closes his book and places it on the coffee table, pushing himself up a little more as Eddie trudges over to him. “Couldn’t sleep either?” Buck asks quietly. He wanders over to the far end of the couch and Buck moves his feet out of the way so Eddie can sit down. “Woke up and you were gone,” Eddie murmurs, pulling Buck’s feet into his lap.

you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (Getting Together, Valentine's Day | 2K | Teen): The LAFD throws a Valentine's Day charity event, there's a kissing booth and Eddie is definitely not going insane with jealousy.

🔥 Winter Prayer by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Road Trip, Buck&Bobby&May | 18K | General): When a work conflict prevents Athena from accompanying Bobby to Minnesota for the ten year anniversary of his family dying, Buck and May offer to go instead. Over the course of the trip, they all learn more about each other, and Bobby faces his grief.

Fractals from the Lightning Bolt by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (One Shots Collection | 47/54 | 87K | Not Rated): A collection of oneshots, some originally posted on tumblr. Each chapter is individually rated.

47. But What if They Were Secret Dating (S4, Explicit)

You Can't Surprise Evan Buckley by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Established Buddie, Fluff | 5K | Mature): Ten months into their relationship, Eddie has not been able to execute a romantic surprise for Buck. But on Buck's birthday, things are about to change. (Part 2 of Birthday Surprises & Other Shenanigans)

WIP

because we'll all arrive in heaven alive by callmenewbie/ @puppyboybuckley (Post-S6, Disaster Fic | 1/9 | 7K | Explicit): During a search and rescue, Eddie disappears without a trace, leaving Buck to grapple with the sudden possibility of a life without him.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briar / @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon, S1 through S6 | 111/? | 315K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

🔥 A Minor Delay by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (Post-S6/S7 Spec | 6/11 | 21K | Mature): Almost a year after the bridge collapse, a lot has changed. The team are scattered—Bobby and Athena on their Honeymoon, Hen on adoptive parent's leave, and Buck and Eddie... They may still work together, still have movie nights with Chris whenever they can, but things have changed. With Maddie and Chimney's wedding around the corner, Buck tries to make it perfect. And maybe, along the way, he might figure out why everything still feels... wrong.

if i need to rearrange my particles — i will for you. by dylaesthetics (Post-S6, Social Media fic | 1/16 | 4K | Teen): OR Buck joins a support app for first responders and matches with a firefighter who has PTSD and a kid who likes giraffes, apparently.

#buddie #buddie fanfiction #buddie fic rec #buddie fanfic #buddie fic #epic buddie fic rec #911 #911 fanfic #911 fanfiction #911 fic

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jjuwuni · 2 years ago

Text

caught in his web ; choi yeonjun ch. 1 | SWEET DREAMS

pairings — yeonjun x afab reader

genre — smut (lots of it so minors dni please), fluff, angst, college!au, friends to lovers, drama

word count (for this chapter) — ~2.3k

summary — You thought you’d be immune to Choi Yeonjun's charms, turns out you were completely, utterly, shamefully wrong.

And what’s worse? He’s your new best friend's boyfriend.

Wanna hear something even worse than that? His dad and your mom are dating.

MOA University: An educational institution created for the 1%. The elite of the elites. Those who are to inherit large multinational companies, take oath in office, and represent Korea's future in business and politics. This is where it begins.

warnings — almost-stepbro!yeonjun but not really since your parents are in the early stages of dating, kinda slow burn yes, black haired!yeonjun, bad boy yeonjun, all of you are trust fund babies, all the tubatu's make a cameo and are in the same friend group, might reference some other 4th gen idols, alcohol, drinking, drunken mishaps, lots of sex, profanity - lots of it, yeonjun is a menace but he's so cute wtf i'm screaming, jealousy, making out etc. minors dni istg! i'm watching y'all..

A/N: hello! bela here! my apologies for dipping after posting the preview. here is the official first chapter! hope you guys like it. i'll try to update more frequently. 🙏 comments and reblogs are very much appreciated xoxo also please do let me know if you'd like to be tagged for the next parts!

MASTERLIST: [ preview ] | [ 1 ] | [ 2 ] | [ 3 ]

————-　★　-———— . ————-　★　-————

“O-oh..” You clear your throat after telling yourself to get it together about a million times. Opening your mouth after what seemed like an eternity, “I uh.. Uncle Minjun? It’s nice to meet you. I’m y/n.” You offer your hand out to the man who was undeniably a splitting image of Yeonjun - just older.

He was dashing and had an air of charisma around him. One would know that being in the real estate business, you need to have some type of charm after all, so you're not too surprised that he owns the biggest housing and commercial property business in Asia. He seemed like the type to be able to sway you easily into buying things without much hesitation.

Also explains why your mom fell for him.

“y/n.. Very nice to meet you finally. I’ve heard nothing but good things about you from your mother, you seem like a very smart lady. And as expected - beautiful too. Surely you have a lot of suitors by now, eh?” He says in a playful manner, as you finally take a seat to join them, right across from Yeonjun.

“Oh, trust me, dad. Soobinnie's all over her.” The male across from you nonchalantly points out, making you cough right as you scoop the clear soup into your mouth.

“Oh? CEO Dongwon's son? Well sounds like he’s a decent man.” Your mother for sure wouldn't pass off the chance to give her two cents, “Why didn’t you tell me this, sweetie? You should invite Soobin here sometime.” She lets out a giddy laugh as you grimace into your soup.

"Well, we’re not an item, Mom. And you know I want to focus on my studies first…”

“It’s rare you hear that nowadays eh? I wish my son would see education the same way as you y/n. Maybe you should teach him a thing or two, huh?” Minjun replies, sipping from his scotch glass and giving Yeonjun a look to which the younger male replies with a sarcastic scowl.

“I’m sure Chaewon’s got that covered.” You take the opportunity to tease back, it was your way of repaying him for bringing Soobin up. “They’re a really cute couple.” You smile the sweetest one you can muster and look over at his dad who seems to suddenly be interested at the mere mention of a girl.

“Well, if you’re serious about dating her, son, stop bringing random girls home. You know the guards see you when you do that, right? It's quite distasteful really.”

Your eyes widen upon learning this little piece of information, he was still bringing girls home, even though he’s dating my friend? You think to yourself. You could feel Yeonjun’s glare directed at you from across the table, but ultimately decide to avoid it and just eat.

“I-I’ll go get the dessert.” You shoot up from your seat not too long after, wanting to do anything to get you out of that semi-awkward situation.

“I’ll help you y/n!” Yeonjun chimes in, walking behind you and following you into the kitchen- giving you no other choice.

“Ahjumma, can you please take out the cream cake my mom bought this morning? I’ll cut it myself.” You say in a polite tone and a smile to match, watching the older lady walk out back to the refrigerators to go grab it.

You let out an exasperated sigh, leaning back against the expensive Italian marble countertop. “Not even an hour with you and I’m already tired.” You glare at the male.

It’s true, there’s a reason why you never got along with him, as he was always picking on you. But it was more of a welcomed gesture for you because even though it was annoying, you were just glad you are not a part of the population of MOA-U girls who have fallen victim and succumbed to his charms.

“Well, you do know what this means… right y/n?” Yeonjun asks, almost in a teasing tone from what you can pick up.

Soon, his hands lay flat over the countertop, on each side of your hip - effectively trapping you in.

You swallow hard, you’ve never been this close to him before.

Chaewon always had somewhat of a fence around him in school, which is why we’ve never been face-to-face like this. You find yourself taking note of his prominent features- from his black locks, which complimented his hazel eyes, his strong jawline, his raised nose bridge, and even that cute, boyish smile.

“H-huh?” Great, what was that part about being immune to his charms again?

“We’re going to be siblings," He says, arms wrapping around your waist, "..so you’ll see more of me around, most likely.” His smile stretches out even more, and it was like he enjoyed that you were flustered by the mischievous glint in his eyes.

Like a shark being able to smell fear from a few feet away.

"You're... You weirdo." Was all you were able to say, and it took all of your might to push him off of you, and right on time too, as the help finally came back with the cake to save the day.

You leave the kitchen as fast as you could, and even as you briskly walked away, you could feel Yeonjun smirking behind you.

————-　★　-———— . ————-　★　-————

"I don't know how I feel about it, honestly." You say as you plop down on one of the couches in Chaewon's living room after school that day.

"My best friend and my boyfriend becoming step-siblings? Who would have thought..." Chaewon says with a smile, though you couldn't tell if it was a sarcastic smile or one that was of genuine nature.

"I know my mom's been a notorious magnet for rich dudes but I never thought she would end up in the arms of Choi Minjun, tsk. This is driving me nuts." You whine out, pulling at your hair and punching the throw pillow repeatedly.

"You do know there's some business strategy side to this, right unnie?" Minjeong suddenly speaks up. The youngest in your group rarely opened her mouth, which is why all four of you were all ears whenever she decides to give her input on things.

"How so?" You ask, trying to make sense of the situation and guessing where she was going with this statement.

"Mm well... Yeonjun oppa's dad owns a lot of properties, and you guys own a lot of department stores.. So if your companies merge... Then, your mom can expand to more places and oppa's dad will acquire more patrons because of the brand - since your mom does have an insane amount of fans. It will be the merger that everyone in Korea will be talking about."

"Wow.. I never really thought of it that way." You say in a hushed tone, trying to put the pieces together.

"At this rate you'll be richer than all three of us combined. With the exception of Chaewon, of course." Yeji says in a joking manner, her statement causing Chaewon to flip her hair over her shoulder.

You laugh it off, "Ah, well- that's.. that's really not my concern now. All I know is that my mother needs to get her life together.."

"Well look at the bright side y/n, at least you get to look after my baby for me," Chaewon interjects, putting her hand over her chest. "You know, you can report to me and tell me if there are girls who try to flirt with him and all that. You’re basically going to be his younger sister anyways." She points out, nodding her head a few times.

You stay silent, suddenly remembering that one little fact that his dad gave away at dinner.

He was still bringing random girls home at this point.

There was an inner battle in you suddenly - should I say something? Or should I keep it under wraps since their relationship isn’t my business anyway? Something prompts you to go for the latter, not open your mouth and just nod.

You'd rather not be caught in the middle of the drama.

————-　★　-———— . ————-　★　-————

As expected, there was another party that night at Chaewon’s house.

There were indeed perks to being inheritors to future companies: your parents were more often than not, too busy to take note of anyone's whereabouts. Which is why you have the luxury to party whenever you wanted.

Surprisingly, you were actually in the mood to party then. As you’ve managed to down a few shots of soju as well as soju bombs with Yeji.

And not surprisingly, Chaewon was all over Yeonjun that night.

You could feel him staring at you from time to time though. Nevertheless, you don't think much of it- as you’ve always made it a point not to.

He's probably waiting for me to f*ck up or something so he can tattletale on me to my mom next time we have a ‘family’ meal.

“How’s my favorite girl?” Soobin’s voice made its presence known as he wraps his arm around your neck and pulls you into a hug. Your arms instinctively wrap around his torso, and you stay that way for a few minutes.

“Ah- y/n! Before I forget! Remember how you were looking for that limited edition version of that manga we both loved?!” He asks as you pull away from the hug. You, of course, nod quickly.

The two of you have a lot of similarities, and your love for mangas and graphic novels was one of them.

In a swift motion, he then pulls out something from his bag. And lo and behold, in its pristine condition, was the same novel you've been searching high and low for.

“WHAT! NO WAY!!!” You shout over the music, enough to draw attention from the people around you. You envelop him in another excited hug out of gratitude. “I can’t believe you found it?! How did you do it? I had my mom’s assistant look all over for it. Even my grandparents’ staff were searching for it.”

“Ah well, I have my connections. You’re not the only one, y/n.” Soobin winks as soon as you pull away to take the manga and read through the back cover.

The rest of the night was spent with Soobin and a few more soju bottles. And by the end of the night, you were feeling the ugly effects of alcohol.

Cuddled up with him on one side of the couch, with the two of you talking about all the animes you’ve watched the past week. It was pretty fun to have someone with whom you could nerd out, especially in a group of socialites such as the one you both have.

“Ah, you’re remarkable. I can’t believe you like the same things I do.” He said, pinching your nose which causes you to scrunch it upwards.

“y/n...?” He suddenly grows quiet after a few moments of just staring at each other.

“H-huh?” You ask, your forehead creasing in curiosity. Unfortunately, right on time, your vision starts to blur, and the dimmed-out lights in the living room turned party area wasn’t helping. “W-what is it?”

“C-can I k-kiss-- Y-yah.. y/n?! Hey! You ok?!”

That was pretty much the last thing you hear before passing out.

And that was it, your dear old friend alcohol got the better of you, knocking you out on his lap.

————-　★　-———— . ————-　★　-————

“Yeonjun, I don’t understand, you know I can bring her home safely.”

Was I dreaming?

“I know, but I promised her mom I’d take care of her, and that’s what I’ll do so hand her over.” His voice didn’t falter, standing firm to the promise he made to your mom.

W-wait.. I can’t see anything.. I can’t open my eyes. I’m still dizzy, I can only hear faintly.. Ah, what is happening to me?!..

“Pff, alright, fine Jjunie.. But you better not try any funny business.”

You could feel another pair of strong arms underneath you, cradling you as you shifted. The air is crisp and cold as it brushes through your legs. You were outside.

“Babe! Where are you going?! You can let Soobin handle her and the party’s not over yet.”

That was Chaewon’s voice..

“I have to go Chae, I’ll bring her home first and make sure she’s settled. I’ll see you tomorrow in school hmm?”

————-　★　-———— . ————-　★　-————

You wake up to music, a hummed lullaby of sorts. It was soothing and pleasant to hear. You can feel the soft mattress under your tired body. With how familiar it all felt, you could tell you were in your bed.

Apart from that, you can feel someone stroking your hair.

Your eyelids felt so heavy as you open them, curious to see who it was. But you could barely see, vision still blurry no thanks to the after-effects of alcohol.

Add that, and the fact that it was rather pitch dark around your room- signaling that all the lights were off.

Someone was in your room, that you knew. Because you can hear him and his melodic humming, and whoever it was- he was unmistakably sitting at the edge of your bed next to you.

“O-ow..” You croak out, feeling the throbbing in your head. Pressing the palm of your hand against your forehead almost immediately, the melodic, soft voice cuts as you note the mattress' weight shift when the person beside you leans in to check on you.

“y/n, don't get up, just get some rest…” That voice, you know who it belongs to, but it took you a while to process it.

Yeonjun’s voice?

Even though you wanted so badly to keep your eyes open and verify if your guess was correct, you've had way too much to drink to keep up.

You couldn’t believe it though. How can someone so rugged and nonchalant about things have such a sweet voice? Plus, the mere idea that he’s here to make sure you're okay- that definitely does not seem like something he’d do.

Or have you had a skewed vision of him this whole time?

Soon after, You feel his lips against your forehead. His soft buds leave a small peck and a tingling sensation on your skin, and you swore your cheeks felt a lot more heated than it was before.

At that point, you weren't sure if it was all a dream. You feel your stomach churn. Was it butterflies? Nah, it must be the soju. You tell yourself.

“Sweet dreams, y/n.” And with that, you drift off into dreamland.

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