#this was such a hard day i was fighting for my life trying to come up with an idea

[jasontoddsotherhalf]

Hey guys, I gave it a try lol let me know what yall think!

Jason Todd isn't a cruel guy.

Not on purpose, anyways. He saw some shit as a kid, as any kid did growing up in Crime Alley. His parents were murdered when he was still very young and he'd been taken in by THE Batman. Regardless of what anyone says, beating criminals up every night of your tween years does affect one's physce. Getting beat with a crowbar and killed by Joker does worse.

But now Jason is back, and he's stronger, and he's smarter. Sure he's scarred up and violent, but he's finally his own soilder, his own dog. And Jason really does love helping people. Which is why along side running the biggest crime ring Gotham had seen in years, he also works for a Mental Health Helpline.

He didn't get many calls directed to him, but he did get one tonight as he sat in his shitty apartment in Gotham, tending to a wound on his leg a few days old. He answered the phone, putting it on speaker and laying it on the coffee table.

"Hello, Gotham Mental Health Hotline. How may I help you tonight?"

A deep voice comes from the other side of the phone, a voice that Jason had heard in his dreams for years, praising him, scolding him, reading him stories to help him get to bed, waking up from resting to go fight crime.

"I'm not at risk. I don't need help." Bruce Wayne says slowly.

Jason clears his throat, his eyes narrowing. Would Bruce know it was him. Would Bruce ever be able to recognize him at all?

"I understand." Jason answered. "Is there any way I can help?"

Bruce took a shakey breath. "I don't need...help. I just...I have some heavy regrets waying on me. Mistakes that I've carried with me, guilt that acts like a noose, tighter recently than it has been in years. My son...I messed up so badly with my son. I want to fulfill my promise to him. I want to make it all okay again for my boy."

Jason shivered. He's not talking about you, idiot. He tells himself. He doesn't care that you're dead. He never cared. He's talking about perfect Dick or clever Tim. Not better-off-dead Jason Fucking Todd.

Jason slowly went back to tending to the open wound, which had started bleeding from how hard he was unintentionally prodding at it. "Have you tried talking to him? I'm sure he'd understand." Jason said through gritted teeth. It wasn't him. Batman didn't need Jason, so Bruce certainly didn't either.

"I would tell him. If he ever showed up. God, I'd tell him anything and everything." Something screeched in the background on Bruce's end and Bruce swore softly. Jason pictured him suddenly speeding through Gotham streets, the Batmobile swerving dangerously, recklessly.

Jason didn't say anything, just waited for his father- for Bruce Wayne- to keep speaking. He continued, after a moment. "I only see him sometimes, when I dream. And he's in my arms again, young and bright and so full of life and potential." So he was talking about Dick. The first Robin who had grown up, fought with Batman, and left, never to return, not as he had been. Dick was Nightwing now, and led his own team, though he was still close with Bruce. Jason relaxed. This call was not about him. He could continue with his plans of vengeance without feeling guilty. I'm sure I'll laugh about this later.

"I'm sorry sir..." Jason trailed off awkwardly. Bruce spoke before Jason could say anything else.

"He's...he's dead." Jason froze. Everything went still. It seemed as though the cars outside all went skidding to a halt, the blood in Jason's veins went cold. The only sound was the old light above him flickering. Jason stuttered slightly as he quickly searched up both Nightwing and Robin on line, a dark part of him hoping one of them had died. But no, there were only two articles published within the last few hours and it was about a case Robin, Nightwing, and Batman had dismantled the previous night.

Jason swallowed. "I'm...so sorry, sir. Do you want to talk about him?" Jason wanted him to say no, needed Bruce to say no. For once he wanted Bruce to close off everything and everyone and retreat back to the dark corner of his mind where he told no one anything.

And there was a long silence between them, Jason was sure Bruce would hang up.

Batman would have. But Bruce didn't. "His name was Jason. And he was the most golden and beautiful boy on this planet. You would have never thought so from judt glancing at him once. His hair was flat and dark, And he was short and skinny and always had dirt on him somewhere. But it was in his eyes, and in his laugh. That's where his love was held. He cared so much. About everyone. He always wanted to help. He would always rush forward, even if it put him at risk. He didn't care about himself. He cared more about the wellbeing of others. He was so sweet and..." Bruce's voice cracked. "I just want my son back. My sweet boy." Jason didn't say anything. He felt his throat burn and his eyes blur. "I-i'm sorry sir. He sounds...amazing. I'm sure whatever it is you feel guilty over..." Jason took a deep breath. "I'm sure he forgives you." He lied. Partially lied. Jason didn't know anymore. One conversation where one participant didn't even know who the other was did not count as closure, and nothing was different. But it wasn't the same either. Bruce cared. All this time Jason had been looking for Batman to show the effect Jason's death had on him, when really it was Bruce he should have been looking at.

Bruce was quiet for a long long time. "I wish that was true, son. But I don't think so. Still, thank you for saying so. And thank you for listening. You're a good kid." Bruce didn't say anything else before hanging up. Jason sat in silence for a moment, frozen in time, feeling dizzy. Then he sprung up, his injured leg aching and dripping blood onto the floor, and he ran to the bathroom, falling in front of the toilet and throwing up anything he had eaten in the past 24 hours.

AU, where Jason returns to Gotham, but in between of his evil mastermind plans and managing the criminal empire, he starts working in this anonymous psychological hotline services.

And gets a call from Bruce-fucking-Wayne.

Well. It is not like Bruce announces that he is Bruce Wayne — it is anonymous, after all — but Jason knows his father's voice, alright?

'I don't need a physiological help,' his father tells him the minute he picks up the phone.

Jason... Snorts.

'Of course,' he nods, making his voice nicer. 'How can I help you?'

Bruce pauses, his breath hitching for a second; almost as if he recognized Jason's voice.

'My... my son thinks I need it, but I am fine,' Bruce insists. 'Still... I want to, well, fulfil a promise I gave... for once.'

Jason rolls his eyes, a familiar irritation flaring up in green flames before his eyes. He wonders who is this lucky son that gets to have such a diligent, responsible father - Dickhead? Tim? Damian?

'I see,' he breathes out, trying to follow a protocol of the calls. 'I am sure he will appreciate your loyalty. Will you tell him about it?'

'If he appears,' something screeches in the background, and if Jason closes his eyes, he can easily imagine Bruce leaning back on the armchair, in the Batcave. 'I... He only ever appears in my dreams, my boy.'

Jason freezes.

'Excuse me?'

'I... He is dead, my son.'

Had someone else died? Jason frowns, reaching for his phone, typing anxiously Nightwing and Robin in the search bar, trying to see if there is something serious happened; because he can't be talking about the second Robin, can he-

'I am sorry,' he blurts out, eyes drifting back to notes on the table, with some common phrases that can be used in this situation. 'I... Do you want to talk about, sir?'

Bruce is silent for a while. Jason thinks he is about to drop the call, but then, he sighs heavily on the line:

'His name was Jason. And he was the brightest boy.'

Jason mutes the microphone. He thinks he is going to vomit.

[runninriot]

The End Of Maybe

written for the @steddiebingo card prompt: proposal & @steddielovemonth day 1

rated: T | wc: 1.223 | tags: established relationship, emotional hurt/comfort, self-doubt, declarations of love, marriage proposal | also on ao3

 

   “Do you ever regret it?” Eddie asks quietly, eyes locked on the ceiling while his fingers are tracing invisible patterns on the skin of Steve’s back.

   “Regret what?”

Steve’s head is resting on Eddie’s chest, basking in the comfort of their shared body heat, still on his come down from an overdose of love-infused ecstasy. Enjoying his boyfriend’s closeness while his mind is happily drifting. Was drifting, until now. Now he’s alert, can sense the shift in Eddie’s mood, the gloomy aura suddenly surrounding him.

Eddie still hasn’t turned his gaze away from where it is fixed on nothing but white paint, stays unmoving even when Steve lifts his head to look at him.

   “Baby? Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on in your head.”

For how talkative Eddie usually is, Steve has long since learned that his boyfriend can be eerily quiet when something is eating away at him. When he’s trying to come up with solutions on his own instead of sharing the burden. Over time, they’ve found a way to meet in the middle – with Steve giving Eddie the space and time he needs to sort through his thoughts and Eddie keeping his promise not to shut Steve out, to share what’s gnawing at him eventually.

   “I mean,” Eddie starts, finally looking down to find Steve’s eyes, shifting so that they’re lying side by side, face to face. Still close despite the emotional distance Steve can feel like a physical wall between them.

   “Do you sometimes regret choosing this over- something else?”

He’s being vague on purpose, not even trying to elaborate what he means and Steve knows why, understands what he’s saying either way. They had this conversation before, once, and ended up in a big fight, maybe their biggest one yet. Because at the time, it had felt like Eddie was trying to push him away, trying to talk him into something he didn’t want out of unfounded fear of Steve changing his mind one day. Having a hard time believing that he chose this life, not despite but because of what it would mean for his future.

For Steve, this has never been temporary; he’s always been all in. Wants to spend the rest of his days with Eddie, through the good and the bad and everything.

   “Never,” Steve finally says, keeping his voice soft but making sure the message is clear, “I want this and nothing else. I love our life with everything we have. I love you. You know that, right?”

Without waiting for an answer, Steve leans in for a kiss, a firm press of lips to emphasise his words.

He knows it’s just a little bump in the road, just Eddie being in his head – it happens every now and then, it’s okay, nothing to really worry about. But still, Steve hates to see Eddie sad.

   “I know you do, I just- I don’t know.”

Eddie sighs, buys himself time by stealing another tender kiss from his boyfriend, and Steve lets him get away with it.

   “Where’s this coming from, baby? Did I do or say something that made you think I’ve changed my mind?”

   “No! No, you did nothing, I- I guess I’m just scared.”

With one hand, Steve cups the side of Eddie’s face, thumb gently stroking over his cheekbone, not saying anything but patiently waiting for him to go on.

   “I know you love me, that’s not what I’m worried about. I just sometimes wonder if it’s truly worth giving up so many of your dreams for this. For me.”

Steve knows what Eddie is referring to, even without him having to spell it out. It is true, there had been a time where Steve’s biggest dream was to have a wife and kids, a whole bunch of them, living a quiet small-town life with his picture-perfect family.

But that was before Eddie came along. Before he fell heart over head in love with a wonderful young man, with the prettiest smile and dark brown eyes that make him weak, still, after all those years. Sure, he’d be lying if he said he never asked himself that same question, wondering if being with Eddie was worth facing all the battles they had to fight. If loving Eddie was worth letting go of the future he’d always thought he wanted for himself.

But the answer is still the same as it has been for over 6 years now – yes. A thousand times yes. Because the truth is, he didn’t give up a dream, he created a new one. With Eddie at the centre of everything, he’s built a life that is better than anything he could’ve imagined.

Nothing compares to being loved by Eddie, and nothing could ever make this relationship any more perfect. Except maybe…

He shoots up so sudden it startles Eddie, who reluctantly obeys when Steve beckons him to sit.

   “What-”

Steve doesn’t give him a chance to finish his sentence, presses the tip of his finger against Eddie’s lips to shut him up – not to be rude; he just needs him to listen to what he has to say before he loses his courage.

   “You’re it for me, okay? You are everything I need to be happy and I- I want to grow old with you, want to spend the rest of my life with you. You are all I want, now and forever.”

Steve swallows roughly, has to take a few deep breaths, can already feel the burning of tears in his eyes.

Robin will lose her mind. Will probably also give him a lot of shit for doing it like this, here, in the isolated cocoon of their bedroom rather than making it the big, pompous surprise they always joked about in secret. When they talked about the hypothetical maybe of Steve proposing one day.

Truth is, Steve has been thinking about it a lot in the past, about asking Eddie to take this next big step with him. Not for the sake of making at least one of his younger self’s dreams a reality, but because he wants to be Eddie’s in every way possible. Is more than willing to give up a name that means nothing to him for one that means love and trust and family.

   “Eddie, baby, will you marry me?”

He waits for the words to sink in, anxiously watching Eddie go through all the stages of understanding what Steve is asking him.

   “Are you-” Realisation.

   “Do you really-” Disbelief.

   “You want to-” Reassurance.

   “Oh my God, yes! YES!” Eddie finally answers with a trembling voice and eyes full of tears.

They’re both shedding tears of joy now, arms wrapped around each other, kissing, and smiling and kissing some more until just kissing is no longer enough. When the need to be closer overcomes them and whispered declarations of love and devotion turn into something a lot more obscene. When their bodies demand to become one in heated passion, euphoric and wild and sweet.

And when they come undone for the second time this night, it feels different in a way, new. Because it’s their first time as soon-to-be husbands. Falling apart together, with all their love carved into a promise to mark the end of maybe and the beginning of forever – no after – just them ‘til the end.

[macsimagines]

YANDERE!SHINICHIRO SANO ONE NIGHT STAND

ok so here it is. I hope it's ok I'm kinda iffy about it let me know what you all think!! this is worst timeline btw!!!

MINORS DNIWARNINGS: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, ONE NIGHT STAND, SPANKING AND DRINKING

You had no idea what you were even doing with your life. Late at night, in a run down jazz bar, you found yourself sitting on a stool sipping a cocktail all by yourself.

The piano on stage skillfully played a tune that was just pleasant enough for you to feel yourself to start to ease slightly. Maybe the drinks and bar itself weren't anything special, but at least there was music.

"Tastes like shit," a somber voice says to your side. You look over your shoulder and your eyes meet a dark pair. Two onyx eyes that seemed to only reflect abyss.

Maybe on a different day you would have just ignored him, but tonight? You were feeling brave.

"What's wrong with it?" you inquire, suddenly finding the stranger fascinating. Dark eyes, dark hair, dark soul. You think you may have a type.

His eyes barely lift from his glass, a dark liquid swirling with his ice, "It's bitter." He answer plainly. Maybe his monotone response should make you reconsider trying to spark a connection...but something about his voice...

"It's... bourbon, right? You should've gotten a cocktail if you wanted something sweeter," you purr, pushing your own glass toward him, "Wanna taste mine?"

Finally, his eyes fully meet yours and something in the way that they analyze you has a shiver running across your skin. He's handsome, pretty even, and you find yourself feeling just a little hot under his intense stare.

A slow smirk tugs at his lips. There's the slightest hint of amusement in his eyes. Then he's sliding his hand, purposefully brushing your fingertips, and taking the glass from you. Your eyes never break contact as he brings the glass to his lips, his tongue licking at the sugar coated rim first.

You can feel your thighs clench at the erotic image this stranger makes. Something inside of you aching with a sudden need. "Well?" you say, scooting in closer, "Better?"

"Dunno," the man says leaning in closer, "I'm in the mood for somethin' much sweeter." You feel a rough hand come up and firmly squeeze your thigh.

Maybe its the alcohol, the atmosphere, or those gorgeous void like eyes of his, but you find yourself checking into a hotel with that stranger. Yes. Stranger.

His name doesn't matter, what he does for a living or why he's in this part of town. The only thing that matters is how good his hands feel around your throat and inside your aching pussy.

You don't care about all his tattoos or the fact that their was a danger slowly growing in those perfect eyes of his. A strange sort of obsession?

Tonight, you don't fight. When his hand cracks down hard against your ass, you moan and beg for more. When he makes you kiss him and devours every sound you try to make. And not even when he's plunging deep into you and pounding like a man going for broke.

As you start to see stars and get light headed, you allow this man, a man whose name you didn't even care to know, to have his sick and depraved way with you.

"Be my good-girl," he purrs a rough hand coming to wrap around your neck, "Stick out your tongue for me." You end up mindlessly doing as he says, so eager to please. And your pussy clenches and flutters around his thick girth when he meets it with his own.

Shamefully, you're just moaning when you fill him cum inside you, loving the feeling. And finally the man stops his constant praise of 'Good girl, perfect woman, mine so fucking mine,' to look you in the eyes again.

There's something different about them. Almost child like and wide. There is the smallest light in them and through the haze of your orgasm you swear there was something else...

But you're so spent and exhausted that you end up passing out in his arms. You're sure it won't matter in the morning, either one of you will be gone. Right?

You're surprised to find him still sleeping soundly next to you. You can't believe your good luck when you find he was as beautiful as you had remembered him being. The pleasant soreness of your body also told you that the sex hadn't just been the greatest wet dream of your life.

Its a shame you have to go. You two might actually be compatible, but something like that just didn't work out for you. Maybe if things were different... No. You won't let yourself fall for some stranger.

You're trying to get yourself dressed and out the door as quietly as possible but something is grabbing your wrist and pulling you back-! Right into someone's solid chest.

"Quit makin' all th'racket," he slurs, nose rubbing into your neck, "Lay back down with me, baby."

Embarrassment flushes your cheeks and his soft touches remind you of everything from the night before. Fuck you want to stay for another round- or 3 -but you really needed to leave. So you try to push back.

"S-Sorry for waking you. I'll be out in just a second. I'll leave my half of the bill-!"

"You're not fucking going anywhere, Y/N."

Ice quickly runs down your spine. You're very sure you didn't tell him your name. You were supposed to be nameless strangers after all.

You turn to glare at him seeing that he has his phone open. "I had a friend of mine do some diggin' on you after you passed out last night." He tells you calmly. Like he didn't just admit to doing a creepy back ground check on you.

"Let go of me." You demand fighting back harder, "I want to go home!"

This man only smirks from where he sits on the bed his eyes having gone back to being cold and dead. "You brought me back into the light, baby. I'm your home now."

[diekleinesuesse]

Being best friends with Felix:

Being best friends with Felix would be an absolute dream. It wouldn’t just be about the fun, bright moments though there would be plenty of those. It would also be about the quiet, comforting presence he brings, the way he makes life feel a little warmer, a little softer, even on the hardest days.

The Beginning of the Friendship

At first, Felix might be a little shy, especially if he doesn’t know you well yet. He’d be polite, kind, and considerate, but there would be a sense of caution until he starts feeling comfortable. Once that happens, it’s over for you. He’s going to attach himself to you like a koala and never let go.

Felix is the type of person who forms deep emotional connections, so becoming his best friend wouldn’t be a casual thing. He’d be all in investing his time, his love, and his energy into making sure you feel valued. He’d remember the little things you like, send you pictures of random things that remind him of you, and always check in to see how your day is going.

The Daily Life of Being Felix’s Best Friend

Felix is someone who thrives on making others happy, so expect a lot of cute gestures. If he hears you had a bad day, he’s immediately showing up with your favorite snack, a playlist of songs to cheer you up, and probably a warm hug. He loves baking, so you’d get to try all his homemade treats first, whether they’re perfect or a complete disaster.

“Try this one! I think I messed up the sugar, but it’s still edible, right?” he’d say, watching you closely as you take a bite. If you pretend it’s bad just to mess with him, he’d dramatically gasp and pretend to cry.

Felix would be the type of best friend who constantly hypes you up. If you’re feeling insecure, he’d shut that down real quick.

“What do you mean you’re not good enough? Do I need to fight you? Because I will,” he’d say, crossing his arms, his freckles scrunching up as he frowns.

But more than anything, he’d make sure you know how much you mean to him.

The Chaos of the Sunshine Energy

Felix has a soft, comforting side, but let’s not forget he’s also chaotic. If you’re his best friend, you’re not just getting cozy, warm Felix; you’re also getting the Felix that dances like a maniac to random music, who suddenly starts singing in a deep voice just to freak people out, and who laughs so hard at dumb jokes that he ends up on the floor.

“Did you see that meme I sent you at 3 AM?” he’d ask, as if that were a normal thing to do.

“You mean the one with the cat wearing sunglasses and breakdancing? Yes, Felix. I saw it.”

“And?”

“It changed my life.”

Felix would 100% drag you into random challenges, whether it’s trying to learn an impossible TikTok dance, doing “rock, paper, scissors” with the punishment of eating something disgusting, or making an overly dramatic music video to a song you both love.

And if you ever prank him? Oh, he’s coming for revenge. Be prepared for unexpected jump scares, your phone mysteriously disappearing, or waking up to find a ridiculous filter added to all your photos.

The Deep Conversations

For all the silliness, Felix is also incredibly introspective and deep. He’s not afraid to have emotional conversations, and if something is bothering you, he’d be the first to notice.

“Talk to me,” he’d say, voice gentle, sitting next to you even if you don’t feel like speaking.

He wouldn’t force you to open up, but he’d make sure you knew he was there. And if you ever needed to cry? Felix would let you, holding your hand or hugging you tightly, whispering soft reassurances.

He’d open up to you, too about his struggles, his fears, his dreams. And when he does, you’d realize that for all his sunshine and warmth, Felix also carries a lot on his shoulders.

“I just want to make people happy,” he’d admit. “But sometimes, I wonder if I’m enough.”

And that’s when you’d remind him, just like he always reminds you, that he is more than enough.

The Protective Side of Felix

Felix is a softie, but don’t let that fool you he’s also fiercely protective. If someone ever upsets you, he’d be ready to throw hands.

“Do I need to go talk to them? Because I will,” he’d say, eyebrows furrowed.

If you were nervous about something like an important event or a big decision he’d be right by your side, holding your hand (literally or metaphorically) and telling you you’ve got this.

Felix wouldn’t let anyone disrespect you, not even yourself. If he hears you being too hard on yourself, he’ll shut it down immediately.

“Hey. My best friend is amazing, and if they don’t see that, then they don’t deserve to be around you.”

Spending Time with Stray Kids

Being Felix’s best friend would also mean getting close to the other Stray Kids members. They’d tease Felix endlessly about how much he talks about you.

“Felix, do you have any friends besides [Your Name]?” Han would joke.

“Nope,” Felix would reply shamelessly.

The members would treat you like family, and Felix would love having you around during their schedules. You’d get to watch their rehearsals, joke around with them backstage, and be part of the fun.

And let’s not forget game nights at the dorm. Felix would absolutely drag you into Mario Kart battles, Just Dance competitions, and chaotic board games. If you beat him, he’d dramatically fall to the floor, claiming he’s been betrayed.

A Forever Friendship

At the end of the day, being best friends with Felix wouldn’t just be about the fun and chaos. It would be about unconditional love, support, and knowing that no matter what happens, you have someone who will always be there for you.

He’d be the kind of best friend who never lets you forget your worth, who makes life feel like an adventure, and who reminds you that even in the darkest times, there’s always light.

Because that’s who Felix is. A sunshine personified, a best friend anyone would be lucky to have.

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: All That Matters

You didn’t mean to start pulling away.

It wasn’t something you planned, not some grand act of defiance. It just… happened.

At first, it was small things—taking longer to answer his texts, letting calls go to voicemail, handing the phone off to the kids instead of chatting with him yourself. He was always busy anyway, always surrounded by people, cameras, flashing lights, and—most notably—women.

Women who were everything you weren’t.

Confident. Flirtatious. Perfectly at ease in his world.

You weren’t jealous. Not exactly. You trusted Marshall. But watching him on TV, in interviews, at award shows, seeing the way those women leaned into him, touched his arm, laughed a little too hard at his jokes—

It made you feel small. Insignificant. Like you were just… there. His wife. The mother of his kids. Someone waiting in the background while he lived this big life.

So you stopped trying so hard to be part of it.

And at first, he didn’t notice.

---

It had been a long few weeks. Marshall had been flying back and forth between LA and Detroit for promo, barely home for more than a day at a time. The kids missed him. You missed him. But instead of letting that ache pull you toward him, you let it push you further away.

You ignored his last two FaceTime calls.

Then, earlier tonight, when he called to check in, you handed the phone to one your daughters and walked out of the room.

Apparently, that was the final straw.

Because when Marshall finally got home that night, he came in pissed.

“The hell is goin’ on with you?”

You barely looked up from the laundry you were folding. “Hey, nice to see you too.”

“I’m serious,” he snapped, stalking toward you. “You been dodgin’ my calls, barely talkin’ to me. What the fuck did I do?”

That made you laugh—sharp, bitter. “What did you do? Nothing, Marshall. You’re just you.”

He narrowed his eyes. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

You swallowed, setting the laundry down. You could feel the tears pressing against your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “It means I don’t even know where I fit in your life anymore.”

That made him freeze.

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “I watch you on TV, at events, surrounded by all these women, living this huge life—and I just… I feel like I’m nothing but your wife. Like I’m just here to take care of the kids and hold down the house while you’re off being Eminem.”

His face softened, but his voice was still sharp. “You think that’s all you are to me?”

You swallowed hard. “I don’t know what I am to you anymore.”

For a second, neither of you spoke.

Then, before you could react, Marshall was on you.

Not in anger, not in frustration—but in desperation. His hands cupped your face, forcing you to look at him, his forehead pressing against yours.

“You’re everything,” he breathed. “You hear me? Everything.”

You blinked rapidly, fighting the tears. “Then why do I feel like I don’t matter?”

His breath hitched, like the words physically hurt him. “You do. More than anything. More than all of that shit put together.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, finally letting the tears fall. “I just… I feel like I lost myself.”

He pulled you into his chest, holding you so tight it almost hurt. “Then let me help you find yourself again.”

And in that moment, you knew—

No matter how big his world got, no matter how many flashing lights and adoring fans surrounded him—

He would always come back to you.

[froagles]

I have- a lot to say about Chapter Four, so-

I sound a bit salty, because I am, but I promise it’s all not that serious and it is just a game! Let’s all remember that and be respectful

⚠️SPOILERS AHEAD BIG RANT BELOW ⚠️

❌ There’s about to be a lot of negative so if you don’t want to see it skip to the positives! Totally fair! It came out yesterday and I was hyped and it didn’t meet my personal hype, so I am a bit salty ngl! So totally fair to skip ❌

I can’t really talk much about Yarnaby because his death was SUPER glitched? So I was kind of just like “…okay- I mean yikes for him but-“ I can’t even tell if it was something I did that made him burn? I’m someone who hates chase sequences (not because they’re bad I just get too stressed lmao) but his felt kiiiind of underwhelming? But again one of the places I assume he was supposed to be chasing was- glitched as all hell he didn’t chase me at all, but anyways, my son that I can’t draw, I’m so sorry

Pianosaurus- honestly? I didn’t give him the time of day during promos and such, and honestly now I’m ashamed I didn’t, I’m someone that needs time to just- stare at a character’s design for more than four seconds, just to picture their potential, and staring at his design after the fact, yeah, a MUSICAL chase scene? Are you KIDDING me?? I would’ve fucked with that, SO. HARD. I think Mob was trying to go for the funny route, that or just to show how unstable/strong Doey is, but- I don’t know maybe he could’ve come in and saved us.. after an actual chase scene? My man had ten seconds of life including the cutout, Mob hates dinosaurs fr

The Doctor- I don’t know man I wasn’t too hyped about him like- fight wise? But I knew he’d come with lore and it’d be a different kind of villain so I was still hyped in a sense, and- since I can’t say much about Yarnaby’s death- then the Nightmare Critters stuff? Like it was interesting he was playing with us, but he just dies so easily, like I guess it makes sense, he’s an immovable(?) computer, but for someone everyone expected to be the main villain, and who was talking so much shit to us the whole game, he was also kind of underwhelming, disappointing really the mindless drone computers was also all glitchy so I couldn’t tell you much there

Saved this for last (critique wise) because if you follow me/like my stuff you probably know I love the Nightmare Critters, they got me into actually drawing Poppy Playtime stuff instead of just fixating on the Smiling Critters but not drawing them, helped that I had finally gave in and watched chapter three (out of order.. I finally watched chapters one and two like a week ago, fake fan I know) in September, and then they came out in October

Maybe it’s dumb, but these stupid emo critters mean a lot to me for personal reasons, a lot more than they probably should, so to say I was excited was an understatement, and- the trailer didn’t give me high hopes, but I stayed hopeful, thinking maybe that tease of a Bigger Baba would lead to something? Like- “maybe she’s actually an ally! They did say multiple allies, she’s the black sheep of the Nightmare Critters! It makes sense! They have their own jingle made too, maybe there’s a commercial!” And then to not even get cutouts of them felt kind of like a stab in the heart

They started their big promotion of the chapter with a week long introduction and- nothing, and yes you can argue the same thing happened to the Smiling Critters in chapter three though comparatively they got way more than the Nightmare Critters, which they gave us more of in chapter four, but that’s just the thing, why make the Nightmare Critters in the first place then? It’s not like it’d tarnish the Smiling Critters’ brand, they were introduced AS antagonistic plushies trying to eat us, and if the idea was that they were such a failed attempt (in universe) at trying to attain the same popularity as the Smiling Critters.. why not say? Give us a note? A line? An acknowledgment besides them visibly attacking us to their existence? Even as a villain despite the symbolism Baba could’ve been a parallel to Catnap, something, but nope, she was just the main grunt character, like actually, that’s what her and the Nightmare Critters were, Yarnaby was a pet, they were like The Doctor sent out bugs to come at us, in the cage room they were just slightly bigger bugs, like what is that about by the way? Are they not Bigger Bodies? Are they the “main” Critters? Like tell us things about them please, even their little jingle is an Easter Egg there’s NO acknowledgment of them, at all, and to top it all off, no cutouts, when characters like Daisy have cutouts despite never being a character we face, why have us see the Smiling Critters cutouts again with the same dialogue- and all the other new characters get cutouts, but not the Nightmare Critters?? Why????? I dunno, it’s not that serious but it’s incredibly disappointing for me personally, as we had months of hype for- literally nothing

Edit: I have more to say actually, why the heck was Baba even advertised as different from the rest of the Nightmare Critters? In everything we get of them she’s in the middle, or the main focus, the spotlight, for.. what? She’s the only one attacking us? Like I just don’t get it, I still believe a better plot were to have her be a parallel to Catnap, because they’re similar situations in a way, Baba’s Prototype was just Dr. Sawyer instead, just.. minus having a hinted personality, but maybe this time, we could’ve saved her when we couldn’t Catnap or something? So like it’s not too similar, but I dunno, literally anything would’ve been better than what we got

✅ But! It wasn’t all bad, this chapter did have a bit of good in it that I enjoyed, case in point- ✅

Doey, GOD I love his colours, I jokingly hated him because I fucking hate drawing circles, and this man is nothing but circles, but my actual opinions pre release I just couldn’t wait to see him animated, I love characters that don’t have to deal with anatomy, I hate anatomy, stretch away king, but I didn’t have much of an opinion otherwise, then we find out he’s made up of three people? The lore is hot, his jingle is a bop also, the fact he killed his (well one of the people’s) parents, that was illegal, stop that, and I’m glad that he didn’t just agree with Poppy’s plan, but also I wish they talked about the long term? Say they defeat The Prototype, it’s not like they can go back into society, I’m surprised no one had that existential thought, his death though- a bit convoluted but yeah, also to my understanding The Prototype set off the bombs right? But we still planned to do it, just maybe we could’ve moved the Safe Haven guys out beforehand I dunno, but that was such a sad death, he said SORRY TO US. US???? BRO WE SUUUUUCK, RIP the king of this chapter

Safe Haven, omfg that was just such a cool concept to me, I guess you could say that it’s not really original but I don’t really care about all that, kind of wish there was more of a variety of toys in it though (yeah I know there were a couple Boogie Bots and a Mini Huggy but it was still clearly Smiling Critters focused y’know? I swear I don’t hate the SC guys I’m just trying not to be biased towards them) I’m glad they had a memorial room, and it’s SO lucky of them to have a doctor I don’t know how if they were all children but that doctor is the goat, in the thumbnail of the trailer they make a point to show that Doey could put things in himself, and we also know from tapes that he can make it where others can’t, surely there’s big enough cracks to where he could go up in the surface and lowkey rob a store to get them food right? Pretty please? Give these people food T^T ALSO I’m glad they actually talked, I didn’t expect that to be honest, yay :3

I was not expecting to see BBI Hoppy but I’m so glad we did, my fav Smiling Critter hiiiiii :3, I love her voice, and it makes me wonder if she was the last Critter besides Dogday and Catnap, because maybe they would’ve mentioned the others if they were alive? I dunno, but I’m just glad to see her

Bouncing off of those two points ^, we got more Smiling Critters shit!! Not much in the grand scheme of things, but we got a whole BBI Hoppy tape, a blurry image of I thiiiiink BBI Bubba on one of the TV screens, and an entire room full of the little Smiling Critters, that counts probably, we got more that makes me happy :3

Out of order but seeing that Kissy in the train car- omfg I think that was who Riley from the notes was- RIP Queen, Jesus-

By the way I WILL be using the fact that Touille’s tail is lowkey kind of like Catnap’s that shit is so long, we sure he’s not an opossum lol?

The jingles made by Black Gryphon slaaaapped bro, make them longer puhleaseeeee 🙏

Kissy Missy, send tweet, she’s alive my angel she’s so TRAUMATIZED go AWAY PROTOTYPE

Poppy joining the realistic panic attack club- I don’t blame her for running, and I don’t think any of us should, we the player suck LMAO we deserve this, it was sad for Kissy though the queen

Also people saying fuck Ollie- why? Ollie was real, it’s The Prototype that did all that, not him, leave him alone he’s a bean

I kind of expected Huggy Wuggy was alive, these fucking wuggies are made of titanium I guess, what if the two reunite? They should give each other a hug with their long velcro paw pads, that’s what should happen Kissy and Huggy need to hug as probably the only BBI’s left (presumably, if Boxy is alive we cheer)

As disappointed in the chapter as I am, as it was my first time seeing it release live, it wasn’t all bad, maybe I could better judge some parts when they fix the glitching

I am working on some more drawings! Sorry I’ve slowed, I’m still not used to drawing so much lowkey, at least not like fully colouring and even doing backgrounds, if you couldn’t tell I only ever really do sketches lol, but yeah sorry things slowed I think I hurt my hand somehow, but sorry for the rant! I can get really ramble-y I’ve just never had a place to do so, despite my opinions I won’t be stoping posting art! So fret not, anyways, byeeeeeee!

[stxrsniolo]

┈̸̷┅ ̤ this changes nothing ━̸̷︭

╁ ⠀aegan is typing . . . ⠀⠀ࡆ⠀⠀listen up, because this one's for the grown-ups. if you're here for some steamy, pulse-racing action, you've hit the jackpot. this isn't your grandma's bedtime story; it's spicy, it's hot, and it's gonna keep you up at night for all the right reasons. keep the lights low and the inhibitions lower. enjoy, you naughty thing.

and yeah, i narrated this from matt's pov.

the vibe at jake's party bash in los angeles was electric, but for me, it was like walking into a minefield. there she was, y/n, the one who'd turned our love into a shitshow. our breakup was messy, full of screaming matches and slammed doors, leaving scars that wouldn't heal.

i clocked her from across the room, laughing like she didn't give a fuck, but i knew she was still hung up on us. she was trying too damn hard to act like she was over it, but i could see the cracks, i always did.

"i might've been too perfect, y'know, put up with your crap for way too long," i muttered, accent thick as i cut through the crowd to confront her.

she caught sight of me coming, her eyes narrowing, her fake-ass smile dropping. "well, well, look who decided to show up," she snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"of course you're trying and failing to move on now," i shot back, my tone sharp, not letting her see how much it still hurt.

she scoffed, her drink in hand, looking like she was about to chuck it at me. "oh, like you've done any better, mr. perfect."

"i hope you find some dude to fill the emptiness... because we both know you can't survive without a plaything," i said, my voice carrying, the insult clear as day.

her face went red with fury, her hand tightening around her drink. "fuck off, matt. you think you're so damn superior?"

"i'm sure you'll find some sucker to overlook all your bullshit," i kept going, not backing down, the words like poison.

that did it: her arm swung, her drink flying, splashing all over my face, the glass just missing me as it shattered somewhere behind. the crowd gasped, the music seemed to stop, but all i could focus on was her, anger and hurt in her eyes.

"you're such a dick!" she screamed, her voice cracking, the rage real.

i wiped the drink off my face, the cold liquid chilling compared to the heat of our fight. "you always knew how to make an exit, huh?" i said, my voice low and dangerous, barely holding back my own anger.

she was panting, the shock of what she did hitting her. "i fucking hate you," she hissed, but there was something else there, a hint of the love we used to have, now all twisted up.

"and i should've hated you a long time ago," i shot back, the words slicing through any remaining ties.

the tension was unbearable, the air thick with our past and without another word, i grabbed her wrist, pulling her towards a quieter, secluded room off the main party area, the door slamming shut behind us.

"you think you can just come back into my life and fuck it up again?" she spat, her eyes blazing with defiance and something else... desire.

i didn't answer with words, instead, i pushed her against the wall, my body pressed against hers, our breathing heavy, the anger morphing into a raw, primal need. our mouths clashed in a kiss that was more battle than affection, teeth clashing, lips bruising.

"you're such a fucking mess," i growled against her lips, my hands already working on her clothes, the urgency in my movements speaking volumes. i ripped her top up, exposing her breasts, my mouth finding her nipples, sucking hard, making her moan against her will.

"and you're an asshole," she shot back, her hands equally as desperate, pulling at my shirt, her nails digging into my skin as she undid my jeans, freeing my hard cock.

we were a tangle of limbs, the hate fueling our actions, turning our anger into something dark, something passionate. i lifted her, her legs wrapping around me, her skirt hiked up, her panties torn aside in my urgency.

i was inside her with a roughness that spoke of all the pent-up frustration, the hurt, the longing, her pussy tight and wet around me, a testament to her own arousal despite the hate.

"this what you wanted?" i grunted, each thrust a mix of punishment and pleasure, our bodies remembering each other too well. i fucked her hard against the wall, her back hitting it with each deep drive, her moans a mix of pain and pleasure.

"shut up," she moaned, her voice a mix of defiance and ecstasy, her nails raking down my back, urging me on. i adjusted my angle, hitting that spot inside her that made her cry out, her legs tightening around me, her body trembling with the force of her pleasure.

i moved us to the small table in the room, laying her down, the surface cold under her bare skin, her legs spread for me. i watched her face as i thrust into her again, her eyes half-lidded, lips parted, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

i pulled her hips towards me, my movements becoming more erratic, more desperate, my thumb finding her clit, circling, pressing, driving her closer to the edge.

"you like this, don't you? being fucked like this, by someone you hate?" i taunted, my voice rough, my own climax building as i felt her tighten around me, her orgasm hitting her like a wave, her cries filling the room.

i didn't stop, the sight of her coming undone pushing me over the edge, my release following hers, my thrusts slowing as i filled her, our breaths mingling, the room silent except for our heavy breathing.

when it was over and the cold reality settled in, we didn't look at each other, the silence heavy with what we'd just done. i stepped back, zipping up, and she adjusted her clothes, our eyes avoiding each other's.

"this changes nothing," she said, her voice cold, the moment of vulnerability gone.

"never said it did," i replied, my tone matching hers, both of us knowing we'd just added another layer to our fucked-up history.

⨥⠀ ⠀⠀aegan is typing ᅟᅟ:ᅟ⠀heads up, copycats and wannabe adaptors: my work is mine, period. no copies, no mashups, and definitely no translations getting thrown up here or anywhere else without my say-so.

keep your hands off unless i give you the green light, got it?

tags: @courta13 @chrislilcumslvt @marrykisskilled @chrislova @sturnshood @inspiredangel @strnilolover @emely9274 @sturns-mermaid @blushsturns

[seellove]

Counterfeit Shrines // sukuna x female reader

Masterlist

Chapter 3 - The Danger in Starting a Fire // (4.2k words) // Explicit - 18+

\|/ AO3 - Chapter 3 | << Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 >>

You're a late bloomer when it comes to cursed energy, entering Tokyo Jujutsu High partway through the 4th year on the support student track. Because of this, you get paired with the only combat track sorcerer without a partner for obvious reasons, Ryomen Sukuna. He's had a tragic upbringing as a human that is part curse with dark expectations for how to live his life. However, after meeting you, he slowly starts to see the possibility of a different path with someone he might love.

Content Tags/Warnings Throughout Work: Reader and Sukuna are Jujutsu Sorcerers in a JJK AU, explicit smut, violence/blood/injury, dubious consent, dubious morality, drug and alcohol use, falling in love, angst, comfort, fluff, happy ending

Sukuna POV

I can taste blood in my mouth and feel it trickling down my chin and neck. No way this bitch just hit me, how did she even manage to do that? No support student should ever be able to lay a hand on me. She’s laying on the ground now though, unconscious I guess. 

I can move my body again, what kind of technique was that? Some kind of paralysis maybe? I’m intrigued, she could be worth something after all. No one gets a lucky hit on me. She beat me on our math quiz, immobilized me, and landed a hit on me, so she’s smart and possesses some kind of strength. When she wakes up I want to know more about her technique.

As I kneel down I notice the training grounds are silent, looking on at me. Toji and Gojo run over. 

“Damn bro did she do that?” Toji grins pointing at my mouth. “Didn’t think she had it in her.” I swallow in response, these fools are witnessing a once in a lifetime moment with a support student making me bleed.

“Did you do this to her??” Shoko exclaims, hovering over her while glaring up at me.

“Wow Suk, are you losing your touch?” Gojo laughs as he slaps me on the back. I shove him away hard, his infinity protecting him from me actually touching him. 

“Here I’ll take her to the clinic,” I say, eager to get away from all the commotion. I lay one arm under her knees, and one behind her back, gently lifting and cradling her against my chest. I notice Kiko and Yorozu glaring at me. Stupid hoes are jealous of an unconscious girl. 

I leave the training grounds without looking at anyone else. When I’m further away, I channel my cursed energy into her body, identifying her injuries. I really did a number on her, I’m not about to use reversed curse technique (RCT) though, this isn’t my problem.

I’m kind of impressed honestly, it was her first day doing this and she put up a good fight. She might actually be worth training. Plus she seems smart, dumb people bore me. I’ll try to talk to her more when she wakes up. 

I kick the door open to the medical clinic and enter the intake room. I explain what happened, remembering that I was quite physical with her before all this happened. I walk her back and lay her on the exam table. 

The doctors said 3 broken ribs, punctured lung, broken hand, and passed out from overuse of cursed energy. They perform healing techniques but say that she still needs to rest. I think I’ve done enough, I think I’ll come back later, just to try and talk to her. Maybe after hours when no one is around, it's not like I sleep a lot anyways. I leave the ward and decide to go have an early dinner.

Your POV

You hear a bit of chatter around you. Everything is still dark, but you feel your chest and stomach throbbing. Slowly but surely your vision returns, revealing Shoko, Gojo, and Geto sitting at a table along the wall. They look to be playing some kind of game. You try to sit up but a sharp pain tears through your body as you realize it’s not possible right now. You break out into violent coughing which alerts them of your return to consciousness.

“She’s awake! How are you feeling,” Shoko says as she rushes to your side. “We brought you some soup.” She holds up a container. 

“I’ve definitely been better,” you wince while trying to force a smile. 

“Doctor said broken ribs and a broken hand plus a punctured lung. You’re a badass if you ask me,” Geto grins at you while patting your shoulder gently.

“Holy shit,” you mutter, this is not how you wanted your first day to go at all. 

“Sukuna is a real ass for that,” Shoko seethes next to you, “there is no need to go that hard in a training class for support students. I love that you busted his lip up though, not many of us can leave him speechless like that. I guess he felt some slight remorse as he’s the one who brought you here.”

You barely recall the events before everything went black. Guess you broke your hand on the impact with his face. Which you are pretty proud of by the way. 

You start to get tired again so your friends bid you farewell for the night. The night nurse comes to check on you and then dims the lights for the evening. As you start to doze off, you hear the door to your room slide open. In the darkness you can make out a person, but it’s the glowing red eyes that really stand out. You sit up abruptly, wincing with the pain in your stomach.

“Relax, it's just me,” you hear a deep voice. 

Sukuna, what the hell is he doing here? The room lightens up as he adjusts the light switch. His towering form approaches the hospital bed, and he looks to be carrying a small bag. Your ego swells a bit when you see his busted lip, swollen and dark.

“Oh did you come by for round two, beating me up once wasn’t enough for you?” You snap at him. 

He smirks at you as he places the bag on the bedside table. “Not in this pathetic state. Where’s the glory in beating up someone who can’t even walk?” 

“Oh glad to know that’s the only reason. Not any of the other endless reasons including beating up your new classmate who’s been using cursed energy for one day. You sure are a tough guy tearing up such a strong person like me.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he says shortly, gritting his teeth in annoyance, “I came to ask how you did it. Was it a cursed technique?” 

“Did what?” 

“You know what I’m referring to.”

“No I don’t think I do, why don’t you be specific?” You smirk, trying to antagonize him.

His eyes darken as he side eyes you and a scowl overtakes his face. He crosses his arms and looks down at you.

“Ok now you are just being a stupid brat,” he rolls his eyes before locking them back on you. “How did you stop my legs from moving and do this?” He points at his mouth. 

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t care, but I can appreciate a good use of cursed energy when I see it.”

Good use huh? So you seem to have impressed this asshole a bit.

“Yes, it was a cursed technique. I inherited it from my dad. It didn’t actually manifest until the summer, thus how I ended up here as a 4th year. As for how I used it, I can’t be too certain, it was almost instinctual because I haven’t trained much with it. I just know I was extremely angry and it’s like my body and mind knew what I needed to do.”

Sukuna nods, listening intently, actually seeming to be invested and engaged in what you have to say. He pulls a chair over so he can be at your level, settling in next to you. He leans back and props one leg up on his knee. 

“Are you able to tell me more about how it works?”

You hesitate, you can’t help but wonder if there is an ulterior motive to his questions. 

“Look, I just like learning about jujutsu, nothing bad will come from this,” He follows up. He must have read it on your face.

“My technique involves doing almost instantaneous math, physical, and chemical analysis on things. I can run cursed energy through the voids or pores of something, and convert the energy into various materials with differing strengths depending on what is available. To break it down using an example, say you are repairing a sidewalk. Typically you need to know how much pressure the soil beneath the sidewalk can handle from the weight of the concrete. You also need to know how strong to make the concrete depending on the load being applied to it. I can run my cursed energy through the cracks in the sidewalk and voids in the earth, analyze all of this, and then basically turn my cursed energy into the perfect strength and makeup of concrete needed to repair the sidewalk correctly. But it all happens in seconds. I haven’t gotten to use it too much, but that was one thing my dad taught me before coming to school. Sorry that was incredibly nerdy sounding,” you chuckle at the end.

Sukuna’s eyes widen a bit and one side of his mouth twitches with a small smile. “Yeah a little nerdy, but also pretty neat honestly. So you are really good at math then huh? I remember you got a perfect score on that match quiz not even knowing what it was about.”

You are surprised at his response, but crack a guarded smile. “Yes it was pretty easy to be honest.”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, his hands clasped together. “So what’s your future plan then?”

You swallow before responding. You didn’t expect to be confiding this type of stuff to Sukuna of all people. But you were weirdly appreciating his company. “My hope is to be an engineer for the jujutsu society here in Tokyo. I’d like to be able to help assess and repair structures that are damaged by combat sorcerers, as it’s inevitable that things like buildings, bridges, and roads will take some damage during a fight. So I’d plan to go to engineering school after high school to learn more about the theory of such things so I can better wield my technique.” 

You look up at him and notice he is very focused on your words. Your eyes search his face, trying to find something hinting at what he is thinking. He finally breaks the silence, his face softening. “That’s quite a goal you’ve got there. I didn’t even know those types of sorcerers existed.”

“My dad is one,” you answer him, “it’s definitely a niche skill set that’s for sure.”

He leans back in the chair, slouching a bit as he rests his arms behind his head. His shirt hitches up just a bit to reveal a sliver of his abdomen. You notice a tattoo that seems to snake into his waistband. You blink quickly and immediately snap your gaze back up to his, scared he might notice your wandering eyes. He might be an asshole but damn he is hot. He raises an eyebrow slightly and his mouth twitches with a faint grin, but he doesn’t address it. 

“Well I think it’s impressive, can’t say any of the other support students have such aspirations. Probably one of the smarter people in our class,” his eyes are partially lidded as his smoldering gaze meets yours. Your breath hitches a bit, did he just compliment you? 

“If you are up for it, I’d like to give our partnership another try. Your potential is…intriguing to me,” he states as he runs a hand through his pink hair, giving it a tousled look. 

You ponder his words. You are wary given your first attempt at combat training with him. After all, you wouldn’t be laid up in a hospital bed if he hadn’t gone crazy on you. However, you can’t deny his strength, and feel you could learn some stuff from him. 

“Sure, we can give it another go,” you respond. 

“Good.” He rises up from his chair and moves it back to the wall where he got it. “Well I’m going to head out,” he yawns, a sleepy look starting to cross his face. “That bag is for you by the way, sweets from dinner,” he gestures towards the brown bag he had placed on your bedside table when he entered. 

“Oh wow thanks, you didn’t have to do that,” you blush in response. 

“Yeah whatever, thought it could be a bit of a peace offering,” he scoffs a little. “Want the lights off again?”

“You can dim them a little, I don’t really like being in the pitch dark. It’s a little creepy here.”

He snickers, dimming the lights. “Good night,” he states as he turns to leave, closing the door softly behind him.  

You stare up at the ceiling, what the hell just happened? You hadn’t known Sukuna for a long at all, but going out of his way to check on someone didn’t seem like something he would do. You peek into the bag to find three mini eclairs carefully packaged up in a cardboard box. The clinic food hadn’t been the best, so you happily indulge. Then you settle into the sheets, sleep coming on quickly after the disaster of a day you’ve had.

***

After 3 days in the clinic you are allowed to leave to go back to your dorm. Every day the medical staff treated your injuries slowly healing you back to health.

“How are you using cursed energy to heal me?” you asked your doctor as she came in to do one final check before discharging you.

“It’s called reverse curse technique, it allows cursed energy to mend internal and external injuries. You just can’t do it all at once or it will overwhelm the body, thus how I had to do it over a period of days,” she explained as she ran her hands over your stomach checking your ribs and lungs one more time.

“Wow, that's fascinating, is it difficult to learn?”

“Yes, it's not a very common technique. Myself for example, I’ve dedicated my career to this and trying to hone it. I attended medical school after high school here to learn about the human body while also continuing to train here to apply my knowledge in college using cursed energy.” 

It sort of sounds like what you hope to do, and what Shoko has talked about doing as well. The whole jujutsu society is very interesting to you and you enjoy learning as much as you can about it. The doctor tells you to come back once a day to continue to monitor your treatment, but you should be good to go about your daily activities now.

You’ve missed feeling the sun on your skin and breeze in your hair as you exit the building. Inhaling deeply, you feel your senses come back to life as you bask in the crisp morning air. 

Finally back in your dorm, you immediately strip so you can take a proper shower. While you start to get the bathroom ready, you see your phone light up with an unknown number texting you. 

Unknown: Are you out of the clinic yet?

You: Who is this?

Unknown: Sukuna, I got your number from Shoko

What the hell, why is he texting you? 

You: oh ok. Yeah I got out this morning.

Unknown: Cool. We need to do a project together for history class

You: ok…why are we together?

Unknown: we had to pair up with our combat training partners. Not my rules brat. 

You decide to just not respond for now, it was Saturday so thankfully you didn’t have any classes, but you surely would need to catch up on work you missed out on while in the clinic. You step into the shower and let the water flow over you, the hot water soothing your sore body. 

Feeling much more refreshed now, you wrap your hair in a towel and wrap a plush bathrobe around your body. You walk back to your bedroom and see Sukuna had sent another text asking if you two could meet up today so he could fill you in on the project. He seems to care about his schoolwork at least. You tell him he can come over in an hour. 

You get into your bed and start to play around on your phone, zoning out watching TikTok’s of fall fashion for the year. Next thing you know you hear a loud knock on your door. Fuck it’s been an hour already!!

You jump up, still in your bathrobe and hair wrap, and crack the door to see Sukuna looking down at you. You swear he blushes as he smirks, looking you up and down.

“Well if this is what you meant by come over in an hour I’d have come over sooner,” he drones as his eyes trail down to your chest.

“Oh my god no, I’m sorry I just got out of the shower,” you feel your face flush, trying to regain your composure to not to egg him on. “Just come in and I’ll finish getting ready in the bathroom.”

Each dorm room has an extra desk so he goes to sit down in the extra chair. You grab some clothes out of your drawer and steal away to the bathroom, closing the door. You let yourself collapse against the wall, now letting the embarrassment out. You are sure he’s seen girls in much less, so you try to just let it go, but still you aren’t someone who has been around a guy in that way, so you can’t help but cringe a bit at the interaction. You quickly dress yourself and just leave your hair wet and down for now. 

Sukuna looks up as you reappear from the bathroom. You notice he has a gold chain on, his white t-shirt and baggy black jeans look so flattering on him, tattoos sculpting his arms with his neck ones peeking out from his shirt. It's undeniable how attractive he is even though he has the approachability of a cactus. Your mind wanders dangerously to thoughts of him laying you down on the desk and positioning himself between your legs. His fingers in your hair as his mouth finds your sensitive collarbone - 

Your whole body almost jerks as your vision comes back to you. What the hell were you doing? Your eyes flick up to meet his staring back at you, a hint of amusement flashing across his face. 

“I brought you some breakfast, I wasn’t sure if you were able to make it over there this morning,” he says as you notice a small to-go container on the desk behind him. 

“Wow yeah I actually am starving,” you respond, you didn’t even realize you were hungry while you had been fantasizing. He hands you the box and you sit down at the desk next to his. You open the box and see a mixture of rice, egg, and vegetables. It looks and smells delicious. 

“I wasn’t sure what you like,” he says stoically, his face devoid of any emotion as he stares down at the floor.

“This is perfect thank you.” You are surprised at the gesture, then remember he had come to the clinic bearing food when he visited you. You chuckle to yourself internally, food must be his version of a truce. 

“Mhm,” he hums. He watches you out of the corner of his eye as you scarf your food down. 

“So how long have you gone to school here?” you ask him. You figure if you were going to be spending extended amounts of time with each other you’d at least try to make it more civil and bearable. 

“This is my third year here,” he answers shortly.

“Where did you go to school before this?”

“Nowhere, I was homeschooled.”

“So did you only start using cursed energy 3 years ago?”

“Fuck no, I’ve been using it since I was a kid.”

“Oh wow, how did you learn and who - “

“Enough questions, I don’t want to talk about this, especially with you,” he snarls finally, making you stiffen in alarm at his harsh response. Fuck him, he gets to be such an asshole but god forbid you do anything he deems to be remotely annoying.

“Ooooo mister too good to talk about themselves, so mysterious,” you mock and roll your eyes at him. 

Sukuna grits his teeth and you can see a hint of his canine protruding from his lip. You challenge his glare, refusing to lower your head. You both stare at each other, an unspoken dual of who can break first. Suddenly he lunges at you with his arms up, causing you to flinch, until you realize he was faking it.

“Loser,” he scoffs, the side of his mouth twitching up as he runs his hand through his pink hair, causing it to spike up even more. “Now shall we start on this project?”

You just shake your head in annoyance, pulling your notebook out of your backpack. “Sure, so what do we need to do?”

He turns around and straddles the chair to face you on your bed, his arms hanging over the backrest. “Each group was assigned a region of the world. We need to choose and research a conflict that happened in the last 50 years in the region, then present it to the class.” 

“Ok that seems simple enough. What region did we get?”

“Central America.”

You finish jotting the info down in your notebook. “Hmm ok, so that’s like Mexico, Panama, Costa Rica, that area huh?”

“Yeah, basically south of the US and north of Colombia.”

“Wow Mister Worldwide,” you snicker.

“God you are so annoying you brat,” he stares up at the ceiling and shakes his head. You catch an amused glint in his eye as he looks at you again. 

“It’s not a bad thing,” you shrug, “I prefer associating with smart people actually.” This guy takes everything as a personal attack. 

“Likewise,” he intently stares back at you. “What were your grades like at your old school?”

“Are you just going to call me a loser if I say they were good?”

“No! Like I said, I prefer smart people. Fucking listen.”

You lay on your stomach towards the footboard, sitting up on your elbows to face him, notebook in front of you. “I’ve never gotten below a B. Usually had all As except in Writing and Reading. You? Can’t be working with a meathead who can’t pull their weight.”

“All As except in Math,” Sukuna responds. “I find the school here easier than when I was at home.” 

“Where is home for you?”

“Like 2 hours from here, Uruame and I grew up together.”

That name didn’t sound familiar. But you hadn’t exactly been able to meet many of your classmates yet thanks to this menace putting you in the hospital.

“I see. So any ideas for our topic?”

“How about the cartels and drug trafficking?” he suggests, looking way too excited.

“What the hell?” you snort. “That's so specific.”

He rolls his eyes. “Drugs interest me. You being from a private school I’d have thought you would have dabbled in that.”

“How did you know I went to a private school?”

“I dunno someone mentioned it at some point,” he responds in an aloof tone.

“Anyways, what a bold assumption to make that private school kids are involved in drugs,” you lash out at him.

“I know for a fact that private schools have a higher demand,” he snaps back, “now answer the question.”

“Fine, a few times, but no more than that. I was a serious athlete and it didn’t really align with my goals at the time.” 

“What did you try?” His face contorts into a sneer, eager to hear more.

“Dude we just started talking and you are asking me about drugs?”

“Do you really think I’d get you in trouble over this? I just want to hear about this other side of you. From my perspective you are a spoiled rich kid with a good family. One who happens to be smart as fuck with some jujutsu potential.” 

You blush as you ponder his words. “No that’s not it…I just don’t know you at all. Typically people don’t go talking about illegal stuff with strangers.”

“When does someone stop being a stranger in your eyes?” he challenges you.

You process what he just said for a minute, it’s almost a philosophical question. “I’d say it’s not about the time that’s passed, it’s about gaining a level of familiarity with someone where you can anticipate how they’ll act and respond to things. That doesn’t mean they are a safe person, just that you are able to predict their intentions.”

He cocks his head a bit to the side and looks at the wall, looking like he’s thinking deeply before speaking. “I’ve never thought of it that way before.” 

He looks back at you, leaning back against the desk and propping his legs up on the back of the chair. 

“We will probably move on from strangers eventually, we do have to spend time together. I’d prefer to at least have a little familiarity with an unknown man as a young woman, so I’d appreciate it if you toned down the asshole behavior in the near future to make this at least a little more bearable,” you say sternly.

“Well we will have to just see where it goes.” He twists the gold chain around his fingers, his eyelids just laying a little lower than they were before. 

“Or you’ll just have to get used to it.”

<< Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 >>

Masterlist

[clarisse0o]

The Mayor - Chapter 29

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect

Words: 700

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Alexia had been stunned when I explained to her what had happened that fateful Thursday afternoon. Of course, I hadn’t mentioned Lucy. I couldn’t, not yet. I had only confessed that I’d had an affair with a girl I met at the gym. She was shocked, but even more so by the fact that I hadn’t told her sooner.

"What’s her name, why didn’t you tell me about her?!"

"Uh… Marie, her name is Marie. I was afraid of disappointing you with my behavior."

"But you’re crazy, I’m your friend Ona! And it’s not like I was a saint before Olga!"

I smiled. Indeed, she had trouble settling down in the past, jumping from one relationship to another, often getting herself into messy situations that I had to get her out of more than once. She didn’t understand why I wasn’t fighting to get Alessia back. I had only sent her a message, apologizing again. I didn’t want to harass her.

"You know, Alexia, maybe our story is really over. Of course, I still love her, but you know, I feel relieved that I didn’t sign those papers…"

"But you’re going to hook up with this girl? Don’t you have a picture to show me?"

Now she wanted a photo.

"No, no, I really don’t think I’m going to be with her…"

"Why, since you describe it as a passion, that you can’t live without her!"

"She’s married, she has two kids! Even though she’s about to separate from her husband... But she has high responsibilities, I can’t imagine her coming out, you see... It’s sort of a new experience for her, I guess!" Alexia sighed.

"You’ve gotten yourself into something here! What are her responsibilities?"

Quickly finding something coherent.

"Police Commissioner!"

It just came out like that. I smiled inwardly, imagining Lucy in uniform.

"That’s true, they’re not the most open-minded! Well, I’m here Ona, alright? No matter what you do, even the most ridiculous things!"

She hugged me tightly.

A few days later, Alessia had sent me a message, simply asking me to come pick up my things from her place. I went, my heart heavy, in an atmosphere that felt so oppressive and suffocating. She was there, in the living room, waiting for me to take my personal belongings. One last look at that bathroom, that room where we had loved each other so much. I didn’t even try to win her back; I knew everything was over. I had tears in my eyes. I turned to her before leaving.

"I’m truly sorry, Alessia. I’ve told you before, I know. But I really am."

She stood up, walking towards me.

"You didn’t even try to come back to me this week. That’s when I understood it was really over."

I lowered my eyes.

"We could have been happy together..." she added, in a soft voice.

My mouth felt dry now.

"I know, Alessia..."

"I’m finally going to Canada, I managed to get back into the program."

My heart tightened even more.

"I’m happy for you. When do you leave?"

"In a month, I moved up my departure."

A silence followed, which I broke.

"You made me so happy, I hope you can forgive me…"

"Right now, it’s hard to talk to you, to look at you, so imagine, forgiving you. I need time, Ona." She paused, searching for the right words. "But I’m sure that in time, when I think of you, of these 5 years, I’ll smile, and feel a warmth in my heart…"

I was crying now, tears streaming down my face. She joined me, saying:

"Before you leave, I’m sorry for the slap, that’s so not like me!"

"I wasn’t stealing from you at the same time…"

She smiled. I opened the door, ready to leave, my hand trembling. I turned back, one last time, rushing into her arms. One last time, to feel her scent, to feel the arms of the one who had shared more than 5 years of my life, my joys, my troubles. My Alessia. She didn’t push me away, hugging me tightly, tears running down her cheeks.

When I got home, I collapsed. I had just turned a page in my young love life. And I had absolutely no idea where I was going.

[dapper-lil-arts]

You mentioning the Big Mac comic made me removed just how much I love that story lol. It’s one of the only times we get a sense of real interiority for his character and it’s just fun to see him play off of so much of the supporting cast.

I especially love the running gag where he’s just effortlessly pulling mares left and right without even trying (including Luna? Maybe? Now THERES a ship for the ages).

It’s even funnier when you consider the fact that he was canonically a chatterbox when he was younger, so his whole romantic arc throughout the series is basically “man tries shutting the fuck up for once in his life, immediately starts drowning in women” lol.

Anyways, all that preamble to bring you to my ACTUAL question:

Which other(s) of the non-main and/or background characters do you Headcanon as having ungodly amounts of game? Just having others swoon over them without even trying?

I always assumed Maud’s romance game was untouchable personally (pulling Mudbriar, Starlight, and hell probably Trixie too lol).

HARD MODE: Can’t say Sunset.

Yeah that comic run is so cute, it shows a little slice of life of a festival day in ponyville and it feels so loving and fun and just cute, everyone is having a good time and enjoying themselves, even Luna! And I love that Big Mac, the big farmhand handsome quite man pulls so many bitches. Honestly I wish Applejack got the same treatment, she really really fucking deserved it, but the show is allergic to having the protags have any romantic relations.

Women literally fighting for him in the background. Good.

WOMEN REQUESTING AFFECTION, PERFORM EVASIVE ACTION

I wasn't gonna say Sunset bc she's not a sidecharacter 😎

Also I'm not sure I even agree with the idea of Maud pulling a lot of bitches, I think it makes more sense for her to be someone that pursues that a lot, but rarely gets lucky because people are 'off put' by her. I feel like she and every Pie sister would suffer of this exact issue, tbh. Sure, Pinkie might get more bitches than the average because she's much more outgoing than the other Pie sisters, but even still, how many people could even stand Pinkie on average? Most ponies hate all the noise she makes in canon and are always annoyed when she's around. By all means both pinkie and maud got lucky... Limestone and marble didnt.

But about your question, honestly, that's a hard one. If nothing else, most of the show is like. So loveless and sexless when it comes to romance, and the little romance that is there tends to be incredibly monogamous. Like, I'd LIKE to say that Cadance should be a love madwoman that has dated dozens of stallions and mares but thats just unrealistic to all of her canon.

I'd like to say applejack, I've done dozens of jokes where every femme in a mile radius can sniff her out and wants to get closer, but still. Again, tragically goes utterly against canon. Even saying that a more obscure character like Raven Inkwell regularly visits gay bars is tragically reaching... So sadly I don't think I got an answer.

[moociaoafterdark]

Okay, Kuzman wasn't supposed to be a perpetual just so that he could survive the slaughter of the Thunder Warriors. I kinda want all of my OCs to survive to 40k, which is exactly where Kuzman's perpetuality comes into play.

Before that I planned him to stay with the Night Lords, turn to Chaos (though not exactly willingly), just to get turned into a daemon when Thunder Warrior Cancer finally caught up to him, which is how he would survive to the 40k era.

However, I already have, like, 3 Chaos Space Marine OCs and I know more are on their way, so I wanted to do something different with Kuzman, since, he deserves better.

As a perpetual, he stays as a loyalist Night Lord and survives the Heresy, though, not without dying a couple of times. When the Heresy is over and his true, forever master now sits on the Golden Throne, Kuzman doesn't know what to do. The Emperor, as mentioned, now can't move from the Throne. He can't talk to anyone anymore, he can't order, can't rule anymore... By all means, he is dead. Just like the Imperium will be, in due time. Is this it? Is this what Kuzman fought so hard for? Is this why he was revamped into the Thunder Warrior? You're telling him it was all for nothing?

Kuzman isn't happy that the Emperor can no longer hunt him down, can no longer hurt him or use him for his own goals. He should feel relief, but instead, he is overcome with despair and dread.

Kuzman goes into self inflicted exile and, essentially, wanders the galaxy for 10000 years, helping out whenever he can, whoever needs his help. Throughout this, he self reflects on his past actions, or more specifically, the atrocities he committed as both a Thunder Warrior and a "Night Lord". Despite saving countless lives, he refuses to be accepted as a hero, even after thousands of years have passed. There's no forgiving and no redemption for him and no matter how much he tries, he will never wash the blood off his hands.

Today he is fighting side by side with the Blood Angels Chapter against a Chaos cult. Tomorrow he will be cooperating with Biel-Tan Craftsworld to fight off the invasion of Orks. And the next day he will be aiding the T'au Empire against the Tyranids, covering for humans and xenos alike. Not because he is trying to redeem himself. It's simply a right thing to do. It's the least he can do now that his life no longer has a set purpose. Might as well make himself useful somehow!

(I did it guys! An unambiguously morally good Warhammer OC! Yay!)

[la-fille-en-aiguilles]

There's No Way

Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Loosely based on "There's No Way" by Lauv. Slow-burn, friends-to-lovers. Featuring sort of modern-day / old money Steve (there are phones but also VHS? :D)

One.

The smell of charcoal and lake water hung thick in the air as cicadas hummed in the distance. Lover’s Lake glittered under the golden haze of the setting sun, a familiar scene that somehow still felt special every time summer rolled around.

Robin tossed a burger onto the grill with a practiced flick of her wrist, the sizzle of meat filling the quiet space between them. “Alright, I’m just gonna say it - Steve, you are officially the most bougie of all of us. The Hamptons? Really?”

Eddie snorted, taking a swig of his beer. “Yeah, Stevie, how was your luxurious East Coast retreat? Tennis with the Kennedys? Yachting with the Rockefellers?”

Steve rolled his eyes, reclining in his fold-out chair. “Oh, bite me. It was a family thing. Not my fault my parents have weird rich-people traditions.”

Nancy smirked over the rim of her cup. “So no secret country club scandals? No whirlwind summer romance?”

“Yeah, Harrington, tell us the truth. Did you break some poor heiress’s heart?” Eddie waggled his eyebrows.

Steve scoffed. “I spent most of the time avoiding conversations about future investments and trying not to die of boredom.”

Robin gasped dramatically. “Tragic.”

Steve shot her a look but grinned anyway, shaking his head. This was nice. Comfortable. Everyone had been scattered all over the place over the past year - college, jobs, moving in and out of Hawkins - but somehow, summer always brought them back.

“So,” Eddie leaned forward, “what about you, Buckley? How’s college treating you?”

Robin’s face lit up. “Amazing. My roommate and I went to this killer concert a few weeks ago - front row, totally insane.”

“Wait, the roommate?” Nancy asked, smirking.

“Yes, the roommate,” Robin confirmed, rolling her eyes.

Steve sat up straight, sensing an opportunity. “Oh, you mean the one you’re secretly obsessed with?”

Robin groaned. “I am not obsessed -”

“You totally are,” Eddie cut in. “You bring her up constantly.”

“Okay, maybe because she’s cool as hell? She’s from New York, she’s got this whole effortless vibe going  - like, she walks into a room and people just can’t help but stare. And she’s stupidly nice on top of that. It’s unfair, really.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like someone’s got a little crush.”

“Shut up,” Robin muttered, but her ears turned pink.

Eddie laughed. “Nah, Steve, she’s right though. I’ve met New York - she’s a cool kid. Got the whole leather jacket, sharp wit thing going, but she’s not an asshole about it. Makes you feel like the uncoolest person in the room, but in, like, a friendly way.”

Nancy grinned. “I like her already.”

“Good,” Robin said solemnly. “Because she’s coming to visit next week. And I expect all of you to be nice and welcoming.”

Steve smirked. “I don’t know, Robin. What if I feel intimidated by her overwhelming coolness?”

Robin snorted. “Oh, I am so counting on it”.

---

Later that night, as the fire crackled and the group dwindled into smaller conversations, Robin found Steve alone by the lake’s edge. The water lapped gently at the shore, moonlight catching in the ripples.

“So,” she started, nudging his arm. “How’s the single life treating you?”

Steve exhaled, staring at the water. “Fine, I guess.”

“You and Nance good?”

“Yeah. It was mutual.” He glanced back at Nancy, who was laughing at something Eddie was saying. “We want different things. No drama, no hard feelings.”

Robin nodded. “Good. I mean, you know I love you both, but… it was kinda inevitable.”

Steve huffed a laugh, shaking it off. “Yeah, yeah.”

She hesitated, then said, “So, uh… just a heads up? About New York?”

Steve frowned. “What about her?”

Robin’s lips twitched as she paused as if mentally fighting with herself. Biting on her bottom lip, she threw her hands up in the air. “Oh, screw this. I just know you, Steve. And I know she’s exactly your type. And I’m telling you, please, for the love of God - keep it in your pants.”

Steve choked on a surprised laugh. “Oh, come on now, Buckley!”

“No, I mean it,” Robin insisted. “You’re gonna take one look at her, and it’s gonna be all heart-eyes, and I just - Steve, I need this friendship to not be ruined by your tragic inability to control yourself around beautiful women.”

Steve grinned, placing a hand over his chest. “Robin, I can handle myself. Cross my heart.”

Robin didn’t look convinced. She gave him an unimpressed look. “Mmm-hmm.”

Across the fire, Eddie caught the tail end of their conversation and smirked.

“Yeah, no,” he muttered to himself. “No way Harrington’s not going there.”

-

Two.

The sky was painted in shades of pink and orange, streaks of gold reflecting off Lover’s Lake as the sun dipped lower. The gathering was bigger this time—more voices, more laughter, a familiar kind of chaos. Someone had brought a speaker, and music floated through the warm air, blending with the crackling of the bonfire and the distant splash of the younger kids skipping rocks at the water’s edge.

Steve stood by the shore, his Ray-Bans perched on his nose, arms crossed as he exchanged lazy jabs with Dustin.

“I’m just saying,” Henderson grinned, arms flailing for emphasis, “it’s honestly embarrassing how bad you are at Mario Kart. Like, actually humiliating.”

Steve scoffed. “Oh, shut up. Those blue shells are rigged, and you know it.”

“Excuses, excuses - ”

Dustin stopped mid-sentence, his mouth still open but his eyes widening. “Uh, who is that?”

Steve frowned at the interruption. “Who’s who—”

Then he turned.

And there you were. Walking down the beach, the glow of the fading sunlight catching in your beautiful loose hair, making it look almost unreal. Effortlessly cool in the most casual outfit, like you hadn’t even tried but still managed to steal the entire scene. 

Conversations around Steve stuttered, people’s eyes drifting toward you like a magnet.

You didn’t even notice. 

You smiled, your confidence radiating as you made a beeline for Robin, pulling her into a tight hug.

Steve barely registered Dustin saying, “Dude, you’re staring.”

“That’s New York,” Steve muttered, still watching as you and Robin swayed in your hug, laughing.

“That’s New York?” Dustin hissed, his eyes following your every move. “That’s the girl Robin’s always talking about? She somehow forgot to mention that she looks like she just stepped out of a movie.”

Steve huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Dude, she’s like super old for you. She’s also too cool for us mere mortals.”

Eddie, standing nearby, caught sight of you and broke into a grin. “Oh, hell yeah — New York!”

You turned, eyes lighting up as you spotted him. “Munson!”

Eddie opened his arms. “Come here, you leather-clad menace.”

You laughed, walking straight into his hug. “Still trying to make the whole ‘cult leader’ thing work?”

“Uh, duh?! And you still out here making the rest of us look like fashion disasters?”

“Uh, duh?” you mirrored, smirking at him. 

Robin grinned, turning toward the rest of the group. “Alright, everybody, this is New York. Be nice, or I’ll personally kick your asses.”

You were introduced around, your sharp wit balanced by a genuine warmth that made it impossible not to like you. Steve, still watching from the sidelines, felt that weird pull in his chest, the kind that came with meeting someone you know is going to matter.

Dustin slowly grinned from ear to ear, catching the look on his face. “Uh oh. What’s with the look?”

Steve scoffed, frowning. “What look?”

“You know what look,” Dustin rolled his eyes.

Before Steve could argue, Robin dragged you toward him. “And this —” she gestured dramatically, “this is Steve.”

You tilted your head, a smile sleeping on your lips, your eyes scanning over him - in a way that made his pulse spike. “Ah. The infamous Steve Harrington.”

Steve snickered. “Infamous, huh? That how Robin describes me?”

Your lips twitched. “Not exactly. But lucky for you, second-hand opinions are not my thing”.

He let out a low chuckle, gazing at you. “Well, how’s the first impression, then?”

The group around you went silent, subtly watching, like they could feel something happening.

You tilted your head ever so slightly, as if considering him. “I think the jury’s still out.”

Steve grinned. “Good”, he said, running fingers through his hair. “I love a challenge.”

That surprised a soft laugh out of you - and Steve wasn’t sure if it was the orange hue of the setting sun or something else entirely, but your eyes lit up. And he thought he’d very much love to see more of those little sparkles dancing in the your irises. 

---

A couple of hours in, the party had settled into a comfortable rhythm — some people gathered near the bonfire, others sprawled out on blankets near the lake. Max and Lucas were in the middle of a heated argument about something, while Robin and Eddie had started an impromptu debate over the best concert they’d ever been to.

You sat on a log near the fire, sipping from a plastic cup, when Dustin plopped down beside you.

“So,” he pushed, grinning mischievously, “what’s your deal?”

You turned to face him, curious. “My deal?”

“Yeah, you know. The whole mysterious, effortlessly cool, sarcastic but somehow also really nice thing you have going on.”

You smiled at him softly, taking a gulp of the drink you’ve been nursing. “Ah. Well, I think that’s very cool of you to come up and ask”, you winked at him. “Please, go ahead and inspect away. I’m an open book”. 

Dustin hummed in approval. “Okay, think we got the “really nice” part validated.”

You laughed, nudging his shoulder. “Cute.”

Eddie and Steve, who had been lingering nearby talking about Harrington’s BMW that’s been acting out lately, turned their attention towards you.  

Munson snorted, jumping in. “Kid, she grew up in New York. She’s got at least a decade of experience in making people cry with one sentence. I would hold off on any sort of validations for now.”

You rolled your eyes at him kind-heartedly. “It’s a weapon I seldom use, Eds, you know that.”

Paying Eddie’s antics and your comeback no mind, Dustin continued. “And you sure know how to make an entrance. So that also sorta checks the coolness box?” He then pointed at Steve. “I gotta say, I think you’re the first person I’ve ever met who might be able to outmatch the good old King Steve in the coolness department.”

Steve scoffed. “Different sides of the spectrum, Henderson. There’s cool and then there's douchebaggery”. 

You smirked at his auto-derision. You might have heard a couple of things about King Steve before coming here. “Robin told me you put the crown behind you?”

Steve scratched the back of his head, lowering his gaze. There was something vulnerable about him then. 

“Never had one to begin with”, he simply said, his brown eyes seeking out yours. 

You held his stare for a moment, and it was like everything else dimmed slightly — the music, the laughter, the conversations around you.

Seconds before the electricity started cracking between you, Steve took a sip of his drink, breaking the spell. Clearing his throat, he asked, “So. How’s Hawkins treating you so far?”

You released a breath and shrugged. “From what I’ve seen so far today, it’s… different. Quieter than I’m used to, but nice. I can see why Robin likes it here.”

“Yeah, it’s not New York, but it grows on you,” he pushed his hands in the pockets of his jeans, stepping closer.

You studied him. “You ever been?”

He shook his head. “Nope. But I feel like I’d get eaten alive.”

That unexpected honesty granted him a smile. You bit the inside of your cheek, pretending to think about it. “Yeah, maybe. But at least you’d have had fun first.”

Steve laughed. “If you say so”. It’s not before he moved to seat beside you that you realized both Dustin and Eddie were nowhere to be seen. For a brief second, you wondered how long they’ve been gone for.

But then your eyes met Steve’s again. “I think you’d like it more than you think.”

The conversation continued, flowing easily between you. You talked about music, the best dive bars you both have been to, about how Steve still couldn’t figure out how to properly work a jukebox (you stared at him in disbelief and promised to teach him - because that was no way to live).

At some point, Robin, watching from a distance, leaned toward Eddie and muttered, “Oh, this is bad.”

Eddie didn’t miss a bit, taking a sip of his drink. “No - this is inevitable.”

—

By the time the fire had burned low and the night air had cooled, you and Robin found yourselves making your way to the cars, spotting Steve next to his BMW. “I can’t drive”, you told her, eyeing your Jeep parked under the trees on a side of the road. “Shouldn’t have dangled that G&T in front of my face, Buckley”. 

Before Robin could deny all fault, Steve waved you both over. 

“I’ll drive you guys back,” he offered casually. 

Robin shot him a suspicious look. “Didn’t you drink whiskey, Harrington?”

Steve scrunched his nose. “That shit Billy brought? Come on, Buckley, pretty sure he sucked that thing outta his gas tank.”

Before either you or Robin could protest, he swung open the passenger door, beckoning you in with a nod. 

The drive was quiet, comfortable. With her temple pressed against the window, Robin passed out before you even crossed the city line. 

You stared out the backseat window, house watching as white facades rolled by. Steve’s car smelled nice. Something sweet and heady, with a hint of wood. 

As your gaze slid across the back of the leather seats, you caught Steve’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He gave you a soft smile, before switching his attention back to the road. 

When you reached Robin’s place, Steve stepped out of the car and walked around to open the door for you. You carefully shook the girl awake and slid out first against the background of her sleepy muttering. Your arm brushed against Steve’s as you moved past him.

It was the smallest touch. Barely there.

But even with her eyes misted with sleep, Robin saw the way Steve’s fingers twitched, like he wanted to reach for more.

She saw the way you hesitated for a second, like you felt it too.

And as you said your goodbyes and walked toward the door, Robin exhaled, shaking her head.

She’d be surprised if Steve and you didn’t end up going there. Not with the way you were already looking at each other - and you’d only just met.  -

Three.

“You drive like an old man.”

Steve shot you an incredulous look as he pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Harrington,” you teased, unbuckling your seatbelt. “Ten and two, checking your mirrors every five seconds… I’m shocked you didn’t use a blinker in the parking lot.”

Robin snorted from the backseat. “He totally did.”

Eddie leaned forward between you and Steve, grinning. “I hate to agree with New York, but yeah, dude, you drive like you’re taking your driver’s test every time.”

Steve scoffed, throwing the car into park. “It’s called being a responsible driver. Sorry I don’t drive like a lunatic.”

You smirked. For some reason, you loved getting a rise out of him. “Yeah, yeah. Come on, Grandpa, let’s get the snacks.”

Harrington rolled his eyes but couldn’t fight the smile creeping onto his face as he followed you inside.

There was something easy about being around you. Like you had fallen into step with each other without even realizing it.

Robin noticed.

Eddie noticed.

But neither of them said anything.

Both watched the two of you dance around each other instead, like you had known each other forever. Usual knowing smirks plastered across their faces as you and Steve bickered over which snacks to get for the movie night happening at his house.

“We have to get Twizzlers,” Steve insisted, tossing a pack into the cart.

You wrinkled your nose. “Come on, Harrington. They taste like wax.”

Steve gasped in mock horror. “Take that back.”

You smirked, plucking the pack out of the cart and putting it back on the shelf. “I refuse to enable bad choices.”

Robin covered her mouth, stifling a laugh watching Steve gape at you wide-eyed. “Oh, and who made you an expert ? You just picked up —” he glanced at the bag in your hand, “—what even is that? Trail mix?”

“With chocolate,” you supplied pointedly, throwing it into the cart.

Steve groaned. “You’re a menace.”

“Thank you.”

Eddie leaned over to Robin. “They flirting, or am I having a stroke?”

Robin grinned. “Flirting. Hard.”

Steve, blissfully unaware of their commentary, was still watching you with an exasperated but amused expression. “Tell you what, let’s compromise. I get my Twizzlers, you get your weird health snack.”

You pretended to consider it. “Alright, deal.”

Steve tossed the Twizzlers back into the cart, shooting you a victorious look. “Sucker.”

You just rolled your eyes, but the way you smiled at him made something flip in Steve’s chest.

Huh. That was new. 

---

All groceries paid and loaded (Steve all but blocked your access to the cashier, refusing to let any of you pay) - you headed over to Family Video for the movie selection.

Robin, boasting her ex-employee knowledge just a bit, took charge immediately. “Alright, we need something good—”

“Oh, I get a say in this,” you interjected immediately, scanning the shelves. “Last time I let you pick, we ended up watching some—” she glanced at Steve and Eddie, “—very artistic foreign film that was just two hours of sad people staring out of windows.”

Steve snorted. “Yeah, sounds about right.”

“Excuse you!” Robin scoffed. “That movie had depth.”

“...of a mud puddle,” you supplied, ignoring her.

Steve grinned at you. “Okay, definitely letting you pick the movie for tonight.”

Before you could reply, someone stepped into the aisle, their presence immediately shifting the air.

Steve noticed Jason Carver before he could make his presence known, but didn’t react. With a bit of luck, Jason would just get on with his mission to make someone miserable today. So Steve just leaned against the shelf and watched.

Jason’s eyes swept over the group before landing on you.

No such luck, then. 

“Hey,” he said cheerfully, stepping closer with that too-polished, practiced smile. “Haven’t seen you around before.”

You barely glanced up from the VHS tapes in your hands. “I’m visiting.”

Jason leaned against the shelf beside you. The guy wasn’t great at taking a hint, apparently. “From where?”

“New York,” you said absently, your fingertips grazing the VHS as you hesitated. 

Jason let out a low whistle. “Damn. Bit of a change coming to Hawkins, huh?”

You hummed in vague agreement, still not looking at him.

Steve watched from a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest. He told himself he didn’t care. He told himself he wasn’t annoyed.

Robin, standing next to him, called bullshit. 

She smirked. “You ok there, Harrington? Want me to press down on your hair so you don’t blow the top off?”

Steve forced a nonchalant smile. “I’m actually enjoying this”.

Robin grinned and nodded in agreement. “Like watching a car accident happen right in front of me.”

Meanwhile, Jason, undeterred by your clear lack of interest, kept talking. “So, what do you do in New York? Model?”

That got your attention. Looking up, you blinked at him, unimpressed. “Seriously?”

Jason smirked, encouraged by you finally looking at him. “Hey, just saying”, he threw his hands in the air. “You sure got the look.”

Before you could respond, Eddie popped his head in the aisle, holding what looked like a good old comedy. “Alright, I’ve got the winner—”

Carver turned to look at him then, his expression instantly shifting. “Oh, great. The freak’s here.”

You stilled.

The change in your demeanor was drastic. The air cracked with tension. 

You slowly turned to fully face him, fixing Jason with a look so sharp and cold that it could’ve sliced through glass.

“Are you actually for real now?” you said flatly.

Jason scoffed. “What? Just stating facts.”

Your lips curled in a dangerous smile. There was no stopping you now. Dude has crossed the line. “Here’s another fun fact for you, dickhead. They say a frightened dog barks the loudest. I can ask the store manager to call your mom. She’ll come get you.”

Jason’s jaw tensed. “I was just—”

“Don’t bother, we get it,” you continued, merciless eyes still locked onto him. “You peaked in high school. You’re clinging to relevance by being a jackass to people who actually moved on with their lives. Get the fuck on with your miserable existence somewhere else.”

Jason opened his mouth - just to shut it again. Eddie, grinning, casually handed you the VHS tape he found.

You took it without looking, brushing past a flabbergasted Carver as you made your way to the front of the store.

Robin followed, biting back laughter - just barely.

Steve, who had been watching without even trying to conceal his amusement, exhaled, shaking his head as he pushed off the shelf.

Eddie, still smirking, clapped Jason on the shoulder. “Tough break, man.”

Jason glared daggers at him. “Fuck off, Munson.”

Feeling ten feet tall and generous, Eddie gave him a tiny goodbye wave, leaving him biting the proverbial dust.

---

By the time you piled into Steve’s car, the tension had dissolved into laughter.

Eddie sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “I love being a damsel in distress. Might get used to it.”

You smirked at him in the rearview mirror. “You’re welcome, Princess.”

Steve glanced at you briefly as he pulled out of the parking lot. But you still caught the awe in his eyes. 

“You do that often? Publicly humiliate douchebags?”

You shrugged. “This one needed a reality check. Thought I’d do the Hawkins community a favor.”

Robin grinned. “You should’ve seen his face. I’ll be living off that moment for weeks.”

Eddie sighed, leaning back. “You are now my favorite New Yorker, by the way.”

You chose to ignore the fact that you were probably the only New Yorker Eddie really knew. “I better be.”

Steve forced himself to focus on the road, trying - and failing - to ignore a twisting sensation in his chest.

He thought back to Robin’s warning.

“Don’t go there.”

But as you sat in his passenger seat, casually flipping through the VHS tape like you hadn’t just verbally emasculated Jason Carver in public, Steve knew—

Robin was right.

He was pretty much halfway there.

And he wasn’t sure there was any turning back.

-

Four.  

Steve’s house was, as advertised, big and empty.

Robin and Eddie wasted no time sprawling blankets and pillows across the floor in front of the massive TV, with Steve helping arrange everything while you ran upstairs to the bathroom.

As soon as you were out of earshot, Robin refused to miss a beat. “So, Steve, wanna talk about how you’re pining?”

Steve sighed dramatically, throwing the last pillow he just brought from a guest room into the pile on the floor. “Jesus Christ.”

Eddie grinned, flopping onto the makeshift giant bed they built. “No, no, it’s cute, man. I mean, I knew you’d be toast the second you laid eyes on her, but this whole slow-burn thing? Didn’t see it coming. Thought you’d be making a move by now.”

“There’s no slow-burn!” Steve exclaimed, exasperated. “Just drop it already, guys, dead serious. Nothing’s going on.”

Robin snorted. “Sure, Steve. And I’m the Queen of England.”

“Bow to your majesty,” Eddie said, throwing a pillow at Steve’s head.

Steve caught it easily, shaking his head as he tossed it back. “You guys are so annoying.”

Robin and Eddie shared a look, their smirks identical.

Giving up on the pair, Steve glanced at the staircase, realizing you had been gone for a while.

“I’m gonna check on her,” he said, waving off their knowing glances as he headed upstairs.

---

He found you in the foyer, standing still in front of the only framed photo of him as a kid.

It was an old, staged portrait — him, no older than five, dressed like a perfect little country club baby in a polo and khakis, standing stiffly in front of a white column. No smile. Just blank, polite obedience.

He stopped a few feet away, watching you.

“That’s the only one in the whole house,” he said quietly.

You turned to look at him, then back at the photo. “No baby pictures?”

Steve shook his head. “None on display, at least.”

You studied the photo for a moment longer before glancing at him again. Your voice was soft when you asked, “Were you that serious as a kid?”

Steve let out a bitter breath of a laugh. “No. I mean, not naturally. But when the only times your parents want a picture is when they’re forcing you into one, you learn to stand still and shut up.”

You frowned slightly, your gaze thoughtful.

Steve surprised himself by continuing. “They were… cold, I guess. Still are. Always busy. Always away. They had expectations, and I followed them. For a while.” He huffed. “Didn’t last.”

You didn’t blink, watching him closely. “And now?”

Steve swallowed. “Now, I just try to do things my way.”

There was something knowing in your expression. A small, almost timid smile grew on your lips. “That’s why I think you’re kind of amazing, you know.”

Steve blinked. “What?”

You turned to fully face him, leaning casually against the wall. “You could’ve turned out like that—” you gestured to the framed, lifeless photo, “—but instead, you’re… you.”

Steve let out a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t think I’m all that impressive.”

“You’re kind,” she said simply. “Given everything, that’s impressive.”

There was a shift in the air. The kind that made Steve suddenly hyper aware of how close you were standing. You held his gaze, and for a moment, neither of you said anything.

Felt like words were not necessary. Your bodies ached for their turn to take control.

Then —

“HEY, GUYS! MOVIE’S STARTING!”

Robin’s voice echoed up the stairs, breaking the spell.

Steve cleared his throat, looking away as he took a step back. “We should — uh — head down.”

You nodded, pushing off the wall. “Yeah.”

You descended the stairs in silence, and Steve begged whoever listened that you couldn’t hear his heart hammering in his chest.

---

By the time you settled in for the movie, Steve barely knew what was happening on the screen. You were squished between him and Robin, and even though he wasn’t technically touching you, Steve could feel your warmth beside him.

He tried to focus, but every time you shifted, every time you laughed at something on screen, every time you adjusted the blanket around your shoulders, he felt it. All the way deep in his bones.

Then, at some point, you shifted closer, tucking your legs up and leaning against him, your head resting lightly against his shoulder.

Steve froze.

A quick glance around the room told him Robin and Eddie were already half-asleep.

You were breathing evenly against him, surrendered to a peaceful sleep.

Steve swallowed hard, staring blankly at the TV.

The thing was — he knew, deep down, this was going to be history — sooner than later.

But right now, at this moment, it didn’t seem to matter all that much. What mattered was him not moving. Because if he moved, you might wake up.

Right now, you curled against him, trusting and warm and peaceful - that's what mattered.

So Steve stayed still, staring at the screen without really seeing it.

Because nothing except for your warmth and your sweet breath mattered that much - if at all. 

-

Five.

Benny’s Diner was buzzing with the late breakfast crowd, but at your booth near the window, the four of you had carved out your own little world.

The vibe was soft and easy, filled with sleepy laughter and clinking coffee mugs.

Steve sat across from you, his arm draped over the back of the booth, pretending to listen as Eddie and Robin bickered over their orders. But in reality, his focus kept drifting.

To you.

To the way your knee kept brushing his under the table. To the scent of your perfume—something warm, slightly sweet, and completely distracting. To the way you tucked your silky hair behind your ear as you read the menu, biting back a smile at whatever dumb joke Robin had just made.

He was aware of you in a way that made him feel off balance - and it wasn’t just this morning.

It was how you’d woken up still tucked against him, completely unbothered by the fact that you’d spent the night like that. You had blinked up at him with that sleepy, bright smile and murmured, “Morning, Harrington. Sleep well?”

And he had lied through his goddamn teeth. Because the truth was, he hadn’t slept at all.

Too afraid to move. Too afraid to wake you up. Too aware of every shift of your breath.

The memory was so distracting that he barely registered it when you said his name.

“Steve.”

He blinked, snapping back to reality. “Huh?”

You smiled suspiciously, tilting your head to a side. “You good over there? You spaced out.”

Eddie giggled like a gremlin, looking at him knowingly.

Steve cleared his throat, shifting. “Uh, yeah. What was the question?”

You laughed. “I was asking if you were gonna come with us to Eddie’s uncle’s cabin today.”

Steve barely had time to process before Eddie jumped in, looking far too pleased. “Yeah, Stevie-boy. Thought we’d spend the night upstate, get out of town for a bit.”

Robin nodded sagely. “No parents. No civilization. Just us, a questionable cabin, and probably a family of raccoons.”

You grinned. “What do you say, Harrington? You in?”

Steve opened his mouth — only to groan as he remembered. “Shit. I can’t. My parents’ White Party. Annual bullshit. I have to go, or they’ll have an aneurysm.”

Robin immediately covered a very obvious “Bougie” with a cough.

Steve shot her a look.

You pouted, resting your chin on your hand. “Lame.”

Eddie sighed dramatically. “Gone too soon. Taken from us before his time.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but before he could say anything else, you leaned in and wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug.

“Come find us after,” you murmured into his ear. “If you survive.”

Steve barely found the brainpower to breathe, let alone respond, before you pulled back and stood up.

Robin and Eddie followed you to the checkout counter, already making plans for the evening.

Steve just watched you go - completely smitten.

---

The White Party was exactly as soul-sucking as expected.

Steve leaned against the marble bar, nursing a whiskey, his white linen shirt sleeves rolled up as he endured yet another conversation about investment portfolios and European boarding schools.

Jason Carver was here, of course.

Leaning smugly against the bar with his usual crew, talking too loudly, probably making some poor girl miserable.

Steve ignored him.

He didn’t even have to put too much effort into the “ignoring” part - all he could think about was this morning.

Your voice. Your laugh. Your stupid perfume that was still somehow all around him.

He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face -

And then his phone rang.

He frowned, glancing at the unknown number before picking up. “Hello?”

“Steve?”

He immediately straightened. “New York?”

You exhaled, relieved. “Oh, thank god, you picked up. Listen, I—hold on—Robin, stop laughing, this is serious— okay, sorry, our car may have gone off the road—”

“What?”

“—into the mud.”

There was a cackle in the background.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “You crashed?”

“No, Eddie got us stuck,” you corrected. “I was just the unfortunate passenger.”

There was more muffled laughter in the background.

She sighed. “We tried pushing it out, but we’re just making it worse. And I hate to bother you while you’re at your elite socialite gathering, but, uh… we’re kinda screwed.”

Steve didn’t even hesitate.

“Where are you?”

“Halfway up to the cabin. Robin can text you the mile marker—”

“I’ll be there soon.”

There was a pause, then a smile in your voice. “Really?”

Steve just shook his head, already heading for the door. “Like I’m gonna leave you guys stranded.”

Behind him, Jason called something snide, but Steve didn’t care.

He was already leaving. 

-

Six.

By the time Steve arrived, it was pitch black except for the high beams of Eddie’s car reflecting off the trees.

And the mud.

So. Much. Mud.

Steve swore under his breath as he pulled up in his very much not made for off-roading BMW, still dressed in white. He really should have gone home to change first.

Up ahead, Robin was in the driver’s seat, revving the engine as you and Eddie pushed from behind, your shoes sinking into the slop.

He barely had time to assess the situation before Robin caught sight of him.

“Oh thank God! STEVE!” she cheered—right as her foot slipped off the gas.

The car lurched backward.

You and Eddie went flying.

Straight into the biggest, deepest, grossest puddle of mud on the whole damn road.

Steve’s heart stopped.

He didn’t think. He leaped from his car, sprinting towards you without a single regard for his white linen pants.

You were lost in a fit of hysterical laughter. Or, rather, cackle, as you propped yourself up on your elbows in the muck.

Steve waded in without hesitation, his thighs instantly soaked, reaching for you. “Jesus Christ — come on, New York, give me your hand.”

You grinned up at him mischievously, and before he could do anything else, you launched yourself into his arms.

He caught you on instinct, arms wrapping around your waist as you completely ruined the last clean part of his clothes.

“Can’t believe you came,” you laughed into his shoulder. “I knew you would.”

Steve barely registered the fact that you were getting mud everywhere — your arms locked around his neck, your body warm against his, the scent of damp earth and your lingering perfume filling his senses.

“Yeah,” he murmured, holding you just a second too long before finally setting her back on her feet. “Course I did.”

A few feet away, Eddie struggled to his feet, arms outstretched in exasperation. “Oh yeah, don’t worry about me, guys. I just love being ignored while I drown in filth.”

Robin, still in the car, had her forehead against the steering wheel, laughing so hard the roof of the thing was shaking.

Steve pulled back, brushing a stray, mud-caked strand of hair from your cheek. “You okay, sweetheart?”

You looked up at him teasingly, lips quirking up. “Sweetheart, huh?”

Steve’s stomach flipped.

Eddie let out an exaggerated gag. “Oh my god, I’m the one covered in mud, but that was somehow filthier.”

Steve had the decency to lower his eyes, biting back a smile as he let his hand drop.

Robin threw the door of the Eddie’s car open, finally catching her breath. “Okay, people — let’s get this stupid car out so we can go warm up before Steve actually cries about his ruined Ralph Lauren outfit!”

—

It took a combination of teamwork, Steve’s BMW, and a lot of swearing, but you eventually got Eddie’s car unstuck and back on the road.

By the time you reached the cabin, the mud had dried to an uncomfortable crust on your skin.

You unloaded Eddie’s car and scattered inside, everyone getting cleaned up and settling in.

Steve took the fastest shower of his life, scrubbing away every last trace of white linen Steve Harrington until all that was left was damp hair, Eddie’s spare band tee, and a pair of worn-out jeans.

When he stepped back into the room, he spotted you crouched over your backpack, searching for something.

The warm glow of the bedside lamp cast soft shadows across your skin, catching in the loose tendrils of your still-drying hair.

Steve halted. You glanced up, pausing when you saw him.

For a second, neither of you said anything.

Your gaze flicked over his borrowed shirt, his wet hair, the way his jeans hung low on his hips.

Then you met his eyes.

Something shifted in the air. The kind of shift that was slow, deliberate. Like the exact moment before a fire starts.

Steve’s throat went desert-dry.

You slowly got up to your feet to level with him, your lips parting slightly like you wanted to say something —

When the door slammed open with a bang.

“Harrington!”

Steve honest-to-god jumped.

Eddie leaned against the doorframe, completely oblivious. “Need an extra pair of hands for the wood pile before we all freeze to death.”

Steve exhaled through his nose. “Yeah. Sure.”

Eddie nodded, then flicked his gaze between the two of you.

His smirk couldn’t get more obnoxious.

You rolled your eyes at his antics, and went back to your bag - like nothing happened.

Steve followed Eddie out, hands in his pockets, trying to ignore the way his pulse pounded in his throat.

Whatever that was - it could have been a wildfire. Even without the goddamn wood.

---

The cabin kitchen smelled amazing—garlic, tomato, and cheesy lasagna bubbling away in the oven. But the state of the place? An absolute disaster.

Robin had sauce on her cheek. Your sleeves were covered in ricotta. There was a suspicious amount of flour on the counter that neither of you had actually used.

You pointed at Robin with a wooden spoon. “I don’t even wanna ask how you got cheese in your hair.”

Robin swiped at it half-heartedly. “Cooking is an art, alright?”

You snorted, shaking your head as you went back to layering noodles. You and Robin moved easily around each other, the kind of teamwork that came from months of rooming together and effortless friendship.

And then, Robin — who had clearly been waiting for the perfect moment — casually ventured, “Sooo… what do you think of Steve?”

You didn’t pause. Didn’t look up. Didn’t even blink.

But you smiled.

Robin grinned. “Oh, now that’s a look worth a thousand words.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t deny it. “He’s just…” You let out a small laugh, biting on your bottom lip. “I don’t know. I’ve never met anyone like him before.”

Robin made a suggestive noise. “Yeah, no kidding. Who else has a hair routine longer than my entire shower?”

“Nothing wrong with good hair”, you defended. “Yeah, well,” Robin scrunched her nose. “He also wears loafers without socks, so. Trade-offs.” You nudged her with your hip, hard. “He’s—” you bit on the inside of your cheek, searching for the right words. “He’s good. In a real way. Not in a look at me, I’m a nice guy kinda way. Just good. Kind.”

Robin leaned against the counter, smirking. “Yeah, he’s a big ol’ softie. Tries to act all cool, but we all know he’d risk it all for a bunch of kids who tease him mercilessly.”

You laughed, eyes crinkling. “Yeah, I noticed that.”

Robin gave you a stare-down. “You like him.”

You didn’t argue. “I really wanna get to know him better.”

Buckley grinned. “You should,” and then added, after a beat with half-mock seriousness: “Just… y’know. If you hurt him, I will have to kill you.”

You barked out a laugh. “That’s fair. I like that you’d defend him like that”, you confessed, approval dripping from your voice.

Robin gave a serious nod. “I will commit crimes, New York.”

You laughed as you opened up the oven, checking on lasagna… 

…Neither of you noticed Steve in the doorway - standing there with a big, stupid grin on his face.

He’d just come in from outside, shaking the cold from his hands, when he caught the tail end of the conversation. He didn���t mean to eavesdrop. But man, oh man, was he happy that he did. 

He ducked out before you could see him, his cheeks burning, his chest full, the “I really wanna get to know him better” bottled up in his mind to get back to in months to come, like a hidden treasure only he knew about.

--- 

Dinner was warm. Easy. 

The four of you ate too much lasagna. Robin somehow got more cheese in her hair. Eddie cheated at board games - and didn’t even bother to hide it. 

Laughter filled the cabin as you went over the mud incident from earlier. 

You turned to Steve, propping your chin on your hand. “Your folks pissed you left?”

Steve, still in Eddie’s borrowed band tee, rolled the dice and shrugged. “They probably didn’t even notice.”

You scrunched her nose in disapproval. “Their loss, our gain.”

Steve stared at you for a second too long, something tight and aching curled in his chest.

Before he could even process your words and the meaning behind them, you casually tossed a game piece at Eddie catching him red-handed as he tried to cheat - yet again. Steve vaguely registered Munson yelling something about “disrespect” and “absolute betrayal.” It didn’t matter. The more time Steve spent getting to know you, the less everything else mattered. And he wasn’t sure how he felt about that yet.

---

Eventually, things slowed.

Steve found himself sitting on the floor by the fireplace - next to you.

The flames flickered, warm light casting soft shadows as you talked, voices hushed.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, Steve couldn’t help but wanted to learn everything about you. Especially the little things. Like how you always needed to drink something before bed. How you grew up listening to your dad’s old rock records. How you once broke your arm jumping from a tree.

He took in every single detail like he was trying to memorize you - like a favorite song. An all-time classic. 

“Let me get this straight. You jumped out of a tree because a boy dared you to?” Steve asked, eyebrows raised.

You grinned. “Yeah. Not my proudest moment”.

Steve huffed a laugh. “Please tell me you at least got to rub it in his face.”

“Oh, no.” You laughed too, leaning back against the couch. “He screamed. Thought I died. I was too busy crying.”

Steve shook his head in half awe, half disbelief.

“You’re wild.”

You smirked. “You like it.”

Steve’s heart skipped - because you weren’t wrong. You weren't wrong at all.

He didn’t know what to do with the feeling swelling in his chest. It felt dangerous - like falling from the edge of a cliff. It scared him, but not enough to make him want to stop. 

At the kitchen counter, Robin and Eddie watched. Buckley sipped from her drink. “He’s so gone.”

Munson grinned. “Told ya.”

Completely oblivious to them watching, you stretched, covering your mouth as you yawned. You got to your feet, stretching your arms over your head, and Steve swallowed hard, noticing your shirt riding up just a little.

“Alright, I’m calling it,” you finally said, voice warm and sleepy. “I’m crashing.”

You turned to Steve, eyes soft.

“Night, Steve.”

Steve barely managed to get out, “Night,” before you disappeared down the hall.

Oh, he was so screwed. 

-

Seven. 

Steve wasn’t avoiding you - not really.

At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

His schedule had just been busy. Running errands for his dad. Taking care of bullshit he didn’t actually care about.

But the truth? The truth was that he’d gotten used to you - to the way you smirked at him when you knew you were getting under his skin. To the way you laughed, loud and carefree, with Eddie and Robin. To the way you just… fit - like you’d always been there. 

And that scared the ever-loving shit out of him.

So he stopped answering every message in your group chat. He stopped saying yes when Robin, Eddie and you planned something new.

He was running away - and straight-up hiding at a coffee shop this morning pretending to ignore his phone going off every 5 seconds. 

Goddamn, you guys were relentless! 

The Group Chat - The Chaos Crew

ROBIN: Steve.

ROBIN: Steven.

ROBIN: Stevie Boy.

EDDIE: Holy shit, Robin, let the man breathe.

ROBIN: He doesn’t deserve to breathe. He’s been ignoring us.

YOU: He probably died in a tragic hairspray accident.

EDDIE: A fallen soldier.

ROBIN: A hero.

YOU: Rest in peace, big guy.

STEVE: Jesus Christ, I’M BUSY.

EDDIE: Oh wow, he lives.

ROBIN: It’s a miracle!!

YOU: Huh, I was just about to hold a séance.

STEVE: I hate all of you.

ROBIN: Lies. You love us.

EDDIE: And yet, he keeps bailing on everything.

ROBIN: Right? The audacity.

YOU: I was kinda hoping he wasn’t all talk, but…

STEVE: …

STEVE: What the hell is that supposed to mean?

YOU: No big deal, Harrington. Just… y’know. Disappointing.

EDDIE: Ohhh, she’s calling you out, Harrington.

ROBIN: SHE’S CALLING YOU OUT, HARRINGTON.

STEVE: I hate all of you.

EDDIE: You said that already.

ROBIN: So, does that mean you’re coming to movie night?

STEVE: No.

ROBIN: YOU ACTUAL LOSER.

EDDIE: Disgraceful.

YOU: You’re breaking my heart, Steve.

STEVE: …

STEVE: We only just met, New York, come on!

YOU: And yet, here I am. Heartbroken.

EDDIE: Oof.

ROBIN: Cold.

YOU: This is on you, Harrington. 

Steve groaned, rubbing his face.

He didn’t like the way his stomach twisted at your words. Even though you were obviously joking - trying to get a rise out of him, as usual. 

He didn’t like the way his fingers hovered over his phone longer than necessary before finally setting it down.

He missed the four of you. Better yet, he missed you - just you, and that was the problem. 

Burying his face in his hands, he ran his aching fingers through his hair for the thousandth time, when he heard a familiar voice calling for him.

He looked up to see Nancy, already halfway to his table with a small smile. He straightened. 

“Hey, Nance.”

Wheeler hesitated, giving him a once over. Latching on to the strap of her bag, he saw it on her face as she made up her mind. Nancy nodded slowly to the chair across from him. “Mind if I sit?”

He shook his head, leaning back into the chair. “Not at all.”

Nancy slid into the chair opposite of him, wrapping her hands around her coffee cup.

She tilted her head at him. “You look… pensive.”

Steve huffed a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well. That’s one word for it.”

Nancy smiled knowingly into her cup. 

For a moment, neither of them spoke, years of history hovering silently over the table. Years of being tangled up in each other’s lives; of being young and dumb and thinking forever was easy.

Nancy sipped her coffee. 

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she mentioned matter-of-factly. 

Steve snorted. “I wouldn’t say that.”

She arched a brow at him.

Steve sighed, giving her a surrendering look. “Okay, maybe a little.”

Nancy smirked. “Figured.”

Another pause made up of silence that wasn’t empty. It was filled with bittersweet memories, with the ghosts of past arguments and stolen kisses, with the weight of what was and what will never be again. 

Steve tapped his fingers against his cup, thoughtful.

“Did we ever stand a chance?”

Nancy blinked. The question didn’t surprise her. Steve actually asking it did. 

She let out a slow breath, watching him carefully.

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “At a different time. If we’d been different people back then.”

Steve nodded, staring at the table. “Yeah.”

“But we weren’t,” she said gently, wishing for him to look at her. “And I don’t think we were ever supposed to be.”

Steve exhaled a laugh, shaking his head. “I think I knew that, too. Even when I didn’t want to.”

It felt good to say that out loud. 

Nancy smiled, soft. “I don’t regret us, though.”

Steve finally looked at her then, his fingertips tapping softly against his cup. “Me neither.”

After a beat, Nancy bit her bottom lip - she looked like she was weighting what she planned to say next. 

“I do regret not letting myself feel things fully, though. When I had the chance.”

Steve frowned slightly, watching her closely. “What do you mean?”

Nancy stirred her coffee, thoughtful. “I feel like I spent a lot of time afraid - of making the wrong choice, or - of saying the wrong thing. Of getting it all wrong.” She waved her hand in the air. “I was so focused on the thing between us potentially breaking me, that I didn’t realize I was hurting you in the process”. 

Nancy met Steve’s eyes, while he listened. “If I could do it again, I’d let myself be all in. And maybe, you know, embrace it, instead of writing an elegy for the relationship I didn’t even give a proper chance to. ”

Something in Steve’s chest tightened - because it all hit pretty close to home. He knew exactly what Nancy was talking about - hell, he knew all along why he’d been keeping his distance from you.

Because this thing — whatever it was — was starting to feel big, starting to feel real.

And what if it didn’t last? What if it all fell apart? 

That would hurt like a fucking bitch.

Nancy smirked, seeing it all play out on his face. “You’re falling for someone, aren’t you?”

Steve opened his mouth —

Then closed it.

Nancy laughed. “Oh my God, you totally are.”

Steve groaned, leaning back. “Jesus, Wheeler. Can’t a guy just have an existential crisis in peace?”

She grinned in response, but her voice was gentle when she said: 

“Don’t run from it, Steve. Don’t ruin it before you give it a chance.”

Steve exhaled, shaking his head. “Easier said than done.”

Nancy pressed her lips together, swirling now cold coffee in the cup. “Yeah, well. I think you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Steve gave her a long, appraising look. Maybe in some other life, things would have been different between them. But in this one? Nancy Wheeler was just his friend.

And right now, she was giving him the kind of advice that only a good friend would.

Steve offered her a sincere smile. “Thanks, Nance.”

Nancy nodded, softly. “Anytime, Harrington.”

Sliding from the booth, Steve made his way to the counter and pulled out his wallet to pay for their coffees. While waiting for change, he fished out his phone from the front pocket of his jacket and found your name in his contacts.

Before he could press “Call”, his phone buzzed in his hand, a message popping up on the top of the screen.

This wasn’t a part of a group chat, you name winking at him next to a simple text. 

Hey stranger. Up for a drink tonight?

Steve stared at it. Felt the words settle in his chest.

He ran a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. Hey, stranger. Like it was nothing. Like the days of silence between you had been a pause, not an ending. Like you haven’t been the last thing on his mind every damn night.

His thumb hovered over the screen. His chest swelled with hope.

Steve swallowed hard, then typed:

“Time and place?”

And hit send before he could talk himself out of it - precisely why, just seconds ago, he had wanted to call. 

-

Eight.

Steve wasn’t nervous.

Or at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

It was stupid to be nervous. You and him had spent so much time together by now - it felt like you’d known each other for ages. He knew how you took your coffee, the exact way your mouth curled when you were about to say something cutting but hilarious, how you tucked your hair behind your ear when you were listening to someone talk. He knew you.

But tonight felt different. 

It was the first time you’d be hanging out alone, just the two of you, without Robin or Eddie and the constant buffer of two loud, teasing friends. Steve wasn’t sure if Robin knew, wasn’t sure if she and Eddie were somewhere right now making bets on how this would play out.

He didn’t know why it felt like his whole world was shifting, but it did.

So he sat at the bar, still in his white linen shirt and tailored slacks from an excruciatingly dull day at the club with his father’s associates, feeling wildly out of place. He stirred the ice in his glass of water, staring at the condensation as he forced himself not to check his watch.

(He did not trust himself to drink tonight.)

The door to the bar swung open, letting in a burst of summer air, and his stomach flipped before he even looked up. He knew it was you. He felt it before he saw you, like a change in the atmosphere, an invisible pull tightening in his chest.

And then — there you were.

Steve forgot how to function as a human being.

You weren’t trying to turn heads, but you did.

The dress was simple. Black, thin straps, something that barely brushed against the tops of your knees. But it clung in all the right places, shifted around your thighs as you moved, your bare shoulders illuminated by the dim bar lighting.

You were like a shot of whiskey in a crystal glass. Smooth. Lethal.

And Steve was dying of thirst. 

Your eyes found his - and you just smiled like you knew exactly what was happening in his brain.

It wasn’t fair.

Steve straightened instinctively, hands pressing against his thighs as if that would stop them from fidgeting. He swallowed hard, watching you weave through the crowd. Your perfume - cashmere, jasmin, maybe apricot? - wafted around as you placed a hand on his shoulder, and pressed a quick, soft kiss to his cheek before sliding into the seat next to him. 

Steve could still feel the warmth of it, searing into his skin.

“Hey, stranger,” you greeted, flagging down the bartender. “You’re early.” Your voice was light, teasing, but your eyes flickered over him, curious.

“Yeah,” he said, then cleared his throat. “Didn’t wanna keep you waiting.”

Your lips twitched, amused, but there was something else there too—something Steve couldn’t quite name yet.

“Huh. I thought maybe you’d skipped town.”

“I’ve been busy,” he said, and it was pathetic how quickly he could hear the lie in his own voice.

You hummed, amused. But decided to still give him a chance - to further embarrass himself. “Busy?” Steve shifted in his seat, forcing himself to meet your gaze. “Yeah. Y’know. Family stuff. Work”. He sucked on his water, only to stop himself from talking. 

“Right”, you nodded. “Family. Work. The two things that keep people from answering texts.”

He winced. There it was.

“I didn’t mean to—” He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t ignoring you.”

You took a slow sip of your drink, watching him over the rim. Then, finally: “Okay.”

That was it. No argument. No pressing for an explanation. Just that single, unreadable word.

And somehow, that was worse.

Steve leaned forward, resting his arms on the bar. “I swear I wasn't. I just… my parents have been around more lately. Making me sit through business dinners and all that bullshit. You know how it is.”

Steve remembered your offhand comments about your dad, about growing up with people who only cared about wealth and status. It was one of the first things you’d connected over, how empty it could all feel.

You gave a slow nod, swirling the drink in your hand - because you did know. 

Feeling encouraged, Steve cleared his throat and then added: “And I needed to clear my head.”

Your expression didn’t change, but you set your glass down a little too carefully. “And? Is it clear now?”

He swallowed hard. He could lie again, keep pretending this was just another casual night out, but the truth was sitting in his throat, thick and insistent.

“No,” he admitted. “Not even close.”

Your fingers curled around your glass, but you didn’t look away. “So why did you come?”

Steve let out a quiet laugh, mostly at himself. “Because I’m an idiot.”

That made you smile, but it wasn’t the easy, teasing one he was used to. It was softer, something a little more careful.

“And I owe you an apology,” he finally said, his eyes sincere and bright. “I’m sorry I’ve been pulling back. The truth is - I -” he bit down on his lip. “I’ve been trying to put some distance between us, because the way I feel about you scares me, and I don’t know how to best deal with this, I - I just don’t know”. 

His voice was raw and uncertain - and in that moment, under the dim lights of the posh, expensive bar - Steve Harrington was the most goddamn authentic, beautiful thing, illuminating the room. “Steve,” you said, soft but calling for attention. Calm but determined. You set your drink down. 

His eyes flicked up, meeting yours, and for the first time tonight, he didn’t try to look away.

“I missed you,” you continued, voice steady. “So I don’t want distance. I don’t want you to run from this. I don’t want to play games, Harrington.”

His throat bobbed, something shifting behind his eyes.

“What I do want,” you said, voice dipping just slightly, “is to kiss you.”

Steve’s brain short-circuited. For a second, he just stared, like he was trying to make sure he wasn’t imagining this.

“But I won’t,” you added. “Not unless you truly want it too.”

Steve sucked in a breath, sharp and uneven.

His pulse was a drum against his ribs, hammering in time with the words you’d just said. What I do want is to kiss you.

His mind scrambled for something — anything — coherent to say, but nothing came out. Because fuck, he wanted that too. Wanted it so badly it almost knocked him flat.

He could still feel the weight of your gaze, steady and patient, giving him space, letting him decide. And that was what did him in. Not the way you looked at him like he was something worth waiting for, not the way your lips had wrapped around those words like a promise — but the fact that you gave him the choice - to either go all in, or not at all. 

He exhaled shakily, a slow, almost disbelieving smile curling at the edges of his mouth. “You really don’t like to make things easy, huh?”

Your lips twitched, amused. “What’s the fun in that?”

Steve didn’t answer. He reached for you, slow but certain, his fingers grazing the warm skin of your arm as he pulled you in.

You just watched him, eyes dark and searching, your lips parted slightly as if waiting, daring him to make the next move.

And he did.

His hands came up, cupping your face gently, like you were something precious, something he had no business touching but couldn’t resist. His thumbs traced the edges of your jaw, his fingers slipping into your hair, feeling the silk of it against his knuckles.

You exhaled, and he felt it - your breath, warm and steady against his mouth.

The moment your lips met, the world shrank.

Everything - the noise of the bar, the clinking of glasses, the murmur of conversation, the weight of all the time you had wasted - fell away.

Steve’s touch was reverent, like he was memorizing the feel of you beneath his palms, like he was afraid you might slip through his fingers if he wasn’t careful.

But you weren’t going anywhere.

You leaned in, pressing closer, and Steve swore he felt the earth tilt beneath him. His lips moved against yours, slow at first — hesitant, savoring, like he was trying to make up for every second he had spent denying himself this.

Then you sighed into his mouth, and something inside him snapped.

His hands tightened against your cheeks, pulling you in deeper - and you let him. Met him, matched him. The kiss deepened, turned desperate - finally, finally, finally - like a dam breaking, like something inevitable, something that had been building for longer than either of you wanted to admit. ---

Group Chat – The Chaos Crew

EDDIE: [a blurred photo of you and Steve walking out of the bar, hand in hand.]

EDDIE: Pay up, Buckley.

ROBIN: WHAT IN THE ACTUAL HELL??

ROBIN: I WAS OFFLINE FOR TWO HOURS. TWO. HOURS!!

STEVE: Picture’s blurry, man. But pretty straightforward.

YOU: But, damn, we look good. 

ROBIN: OH SO YOU’RE A TEAM NOW?? 

ROBIN: JUST DROPPING BOMBS CASUALLY??

EDDIE: Lmao she’s spiraling.

ROBIN: I AM NOT SPIRALING. 

STEVE: Robin. Breathe.

STEVE: If that’s any consolation, you’re still our first choice for best woman 🙂 EDDIE: I can be the flower girl. 

EDDIE: @Robin, told you there’s no way this wasn’t going there. 

YOU: Maybe a little too soon for the wedding though?

STEVE: Yeah - let’s agree on the dog first. 

EDDIE: Oh, you’re done for, Harrington.

ROBIN: Absolutely wrecked.

STEVE: Yeah. I am :)

The End.

[myautismisnowyourproblem]

Femslash February day 2- Horizon

Geminitay x Pearlescentmoon, Hermitcraft, Life Series

Pearl landed on the roof of Gem’s castle, having seen the shapeshifter sitting on the roof, kicking her hooves. She had shifted back from the elven form she was using this season into her default deer hybrid look.

“Heya Gem, what’cha thinking about?” She asked, sitting down next to her.

“Secret Life is tomorrow,” she replied, not turning to look at her… girlfriend? They hadn’t really labeled their relationship, but they were definitely something.

“I see. You excited?”

Gem shrugged. “Yeah. But I’m also nervous,” she replied.

“How so?”

“Well, what if I don’t do well?” Gem finally turned to look at Pearl.

“Then you don’t do well, and you get another try next Life Series that G cooks up. Come on, why are you really nervous?” Pearl asked, nudging Gem gently.

“Gah, why can you read me so well?” Gem asked, before sighing. “I just… well, I don’t know. I guess I’m just worried,” she said. “I love fighting. My nickname is Geminislay for a reason. And I know I can get… carried away in the heat of the moment. I’m already not great at people-ing, I’m worried I’m gonna go too far. Seriously hurt someone’s feelings.”

Pearl hummed, considering Gem’s worries. “Last season, Cleo and Etho were divorced. When you subbed in for Cleo, you got a front sear to Cleo and Etho’s rivalry in that season. You got to kill him in her stead. After the finale, the only thing that changed about their friendship is that they now have a new bit to riff each other about,”

“This series does change peoples’ relationships. But usually what happens is that people get closer, not further apart. Whatever happens, nobody’s going to have any hard feelings over your actions.”

Gem smiled at Pearl’s words. “Thank you, Pearl.” She turned to look over the horizon again. Pearl looked as well. The sun was beginning to set, casting the world in shades of red and pink. “Sunset’s pretty.”

Pearl took the hint and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, like someone I know.”

“Is Impulse really that pretty?” Gem joked with a grin.

“You know who I meant!” Pearl grabbed Gem by the waist and pulled her close to ruffle her hair.

—————————————

Pearl met Gem on the bridge. Gem ran up to Pearl and punched her (lightly).

“You suck! 2 v 1?! Really?!”

Pearl laughed. “Awe come on, you had fun.”

Gem rolled her eyes with a smile. “Maybe I did, but that was still gross.”

The two laughed for a moment, before devolving into quiet. Gem leaned forward and kissed Pearl on her lips.

“That is your reward for being absolutely right.”

Pearl chuckled. “About what?”

“About how I wouldn’t mess up my friendships, Pearl. Did you forget about that?”

Pearl shrugged. “Maybe a little.”

“Well I didn’t. Thank you Pearl.”

Pearl smiled. “A’course, Gem. You can always count on me if you need anything.”

“Hmm, well you know what I need right now?” Gem got that look in her eye that meant mischief was in order.

“What?” Pearl replied.

“More kisses!” She declared.

Pearl smiled. “I’m happy to provide.”

[ryuubff]

shuake week 2024

day 2: fake dating

(this is a no pt au)

extra close up on the pic

[saudebazi]

.

[mer-se]

please pick friends u can argue or have misunderstandings with and actually communicate with immediately after like, it’s so fucking important