#and like. what the hell can i do except laugh along because like. i Like this friendship we have going on!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dungeonpuppykai · 8 months

Note

When I want to read dark fics, your writing just hits. One of my guilty pleasures recently has been dark!winter soldier stuff and I was hoping you could write one.

If you can, can you make it where Bucky is still the Winter Soldier and finds himself completely enamored with the reader. He stalks her briefly and decides he has to have her. So where it gets dark is mean, brooding soldier kidnaps reader and makes her his housewife. (I’d like to think that some of Bucky’s 40ness is still there along with some good old fashion 50s idealization where he basically molds her into being his perfect little housewife.)

He can still be with hydra or not but this thought has been buzzing around in my head recently and I personally am not good at writing dark fics.

Um, hell yes I can! Also, not me having almost exactly the same idea (it was in my drafts and I totally merged it with yours). Sorry for being late uni kicks my butt hard TT. Also, please note that this is a headcanon kind of situation type deal but apparently there's a limit to how many bullets you can put per post so that's why it looks the way it does! Hope you like it still. Unedited ❤️

Warning(s): Dubcon (just to be safe), stalking, kidnapping, housewife kink, stockholm syndrome, spanking, misogyny, domestic discipline, breeding kink (dash), age gap (I mean, man is over a century old). Contains mature content. Browse at your own discretion. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

You are absolutely shit faced as you stumble out the backdoor of the club with two of your girlfriends tangled around each arm.

You are all giggling, stumbling and slurring out curses, trying to shush each other as you trudge your forms to your apartment complex that is close by because driving is obviously out of question now.

Were it not for your overly intoxicated state, you would have totally noticed the dark silhouette that stills in the dark alley facing the backdoor.

The man masked in the darkness tilts his head to the side as he tries to read your party, having gotten caught off guard by the sudden bursting open of the door.

One of your friends stagger in his direction and he moves back, his labored breaths warm in his mask, watching the girl as she retches her guts out.

Silence follows the wheezes and gags of the girl.

Then there is a sound– a melody in the air.

Soldat feels something stir within himself.

Something his masters did their best to suppress.

Not that they would be doing any more of that.

They needed to be alive to do something like that ever again.

His eyebrows furrow as he scans your group for the source of the sound; you.

You are laughing.

At your friend that is throwing up.

Hands clutching your hurting sides, eyes scrunched, head thrown back, flushed and sweaty face vibrant under the bright moonlight as your hair frames it in the most perfect way possible.

A shaky breath escapes the man covered in tears and blood of his captors and oppressors.

His eyes scan your form.

Beautiful.

His metal hand clenches into a fist and he makes his resolve almost instantly;

Mine.

Soldat cannot recall much of his past except for a few things like his name.

But he knows that it has been a long, long time.

And it's time to go home.

But a home is not walls and concrete.

It is the people that live in it.

His head is a mess as he scales a wall and follows you to your building, skipping from roof to roof effortlessly with a careful eye on your form.

James had finally broken free against hydra yesterday morning while they were experimenting something more brutal.

And during the following hours, all various leaders that made the organization what it was were dead.

For what is a structure without its pillars?

He had plundered them single handedly.

And now he was a slave no more.

James would live, and he would take.

Just as had been taken from him.

You woke up the next morning, sprawled across your bed.

As you winced and sat up, you could swear you had knocked out on the couch last night.

But since you couldn't teleport, it was probably just a gap in your memory.

Right?

The second sign was the painkillers and water next to you on the bedside table.

The third was the window of your room that was open wide.

But you shook your head as you were behind on your schedule for the day and got on with your busy university student life.

You should have taken notice of the signs.

How things would always somehow work out when you were struggling with some sort of a problem.

Regardless of whatever type of an issue it was.

Your friends joked about it as Divine Providence.

And Divine it was, you lived to learn.

When it happened, it wasn't after a dramatic chase or anything.

You had simply woken up in a room you had never seen before, tucked in the bed like it had been yours for ages.

What even happened?

You had finished an assignment before heading to bed for an early class the next morning.

But now you were timidly surveying the room, more and more panic filling you by the passing second.

The house is beautiful and bright outside the dark room you had woken up in, big glass windows facing tall trees and various other type of greenery outside.

A loud gasp escaped you when you were somewhere in the middle of the living room.

You turned around to find a huge and by that you mean, giant man standing a few steps away from you.

You could swear he wasn't there a minute ago.

But now he is towering over you, head tilted to the side as if interacting with something from an outer planet, eyes scanning your form slowly.

As if he's savouring the sight of you in a…

Your blood runs cold as you look down to realize that you are dressed in a white sundress with yellow and red flowers printed on it.

Your eyes widen in horror.

Because you had been wearing your PJs last night–

Or, rather, the last time you were awake.

Before you can say anything, he extends a hand towards you invitingly, nodding sideways to what seems to be the kitchen.

Something in his hand glints in the sunlight coming from the windows.

It is when your panicked vision realizes that the hand and the whole arm is made up of metal, your body backs away.

With your mouth agape, you demand shakily.

"Who the hell are you?"

He sighs.

"What the hell is this place? Why am I here? What the fuck is going on?!"

The man's features scrunch in disapproval.

Your choice of words is much unappreciated.

"Good little wives don't ask questions."

In his angry, fried and entitled delusional mind you are as much in love with him as he is.

Otherwise, why would you just accept all the favours he did for you during all these months he was building a perfect home for the both of you and your future children?

He takes a step in your direction and you leap back.

After a short game of cat and mouse, you are trapped against the glass window.

He is too close.

There is a heavy looking vase on the table next to you.

The shock on his face is evident.

He hadn't expected you, his wife, such a small and innocent girl to disrespect her husband like this.

You whimper in horror when he doesn't budge against the decoration piece exploding against his brow bone.

James' eyes narrow as he leans in, a thick stream of blood running down the hurt side of his face.

"Bad girl" and you take off without a second thought.

Thankfully, the door is straight ahead and surprisingly unlocked.

You run without looking back.

The man is not chasing you like you expected.

But you don't want to stick around and find out why.

Though the reason is soon revealed when you race through the little garden and out of the fence door.

You are looking behind you and at the house so it is not until you are a good distance away from it do you turn your head to look ahead.

Icy horror pierces its way down your spine.

Sand and palm trees dominate your vision as far as you can see where you are and your right side.

A devastatingly vast ocean washes the shore you are running on from the left side.

That doesn't stop you until your body gives up after a few minutes.

You ran into the jungle for some cover.

Sobs and tears burst out of you as you collapse on a blanket of leaves.

Your body is weak and confused.

Many hours pass.

You wander and starve.

You hide and shake.

You tip toe and give up.

There are wild animals all around you.

You can hear them.

It's terrifying.

So terrifying that when you hear the stranger's voice some time after dusk, you are almost glad.

Are you done? His bright blue eyes that you can make out even in the dim light ask you silently.

"How'd you even find me?" You were sure you had run a good couple miles.

He refuses to respond until you place your shaking hand in his awaiting metal one.

"I can smell you" his accent is almost foreign as he pulls you up, frowning at your hurt bare feet.

It took you hours to get to where you were but it only takes James a few minutes to get you back home.

"Before I clean you up, I need to punish you." You are baffled. "Good wives don't run away from their husbands."

He doesn't listen to any of your protests and reason that day or ever.

"Little girls don't know what is right for them. Only their husbands can decide that."

He thoroughly washes you that night after giving you the worst spanking, paying no mind to your begging and crying.

You are sniffling as you sit on the bathroom counter wrapped up in a towel an hour later, your sore ass buzzing under you.

Your captor is kneeling in front of you as he tends to your hurt feet.

He tells you your rules as he does so.

"First, you are to always obey me no matter what. Second, your body belongs to me as I am your husband, so you should not try to deny me of it because it will never end well for you. Third, you will respect me or you will live to learn to do so. Four, you will do your chores like a good wife and fulfill your wifely responsibilities. Five, you are to always accept your punishments and thank me for disciplining you after I am through with you, should you choose to break a rule or misbehave. Six, you will not indulge in any activity that can potentially corrupt your little mind. Seven, you will speak with respect and never out of turn. Eight, you are to always greet me when you wake up or if I have been gone a while. Nine, you can try to run. I will never stop you. But when you return home after failing, you will take your punishment obediently. Ten, you must never touch yourself. You are mine and mine alone."

Since the spanking is still fresh on your skin you panic a little and fear forgetting them.

But you find them pasted on the fridge the following morning because he knew you were too dumb to remember them.

A few days pass before you explode about not being his wife and call him crazy.

"You weren't saying that when I did you all those favours."

Horror dawns upon you as you realize that it was him all along.

You don't give up easily, though.

You try to run more times than you can keep count.

Every direction, every plan and every map you make proves to be useless.

Because the last time you do so, you realize that you are on a fucking island.

And since there is a dock near the house with the pantry never running low on groceries, James has a means of transport hidden somewhere is no mystery.

But you don't know when he does it.

So far you haven't been able to figure out a pattern.

Either he was right about you being dumb or your captor was really good at staying one step ahead of you.

Anyways, you have no choice but to return to him crushed and sobbing as always.

He is reading something when you collapse between his legs; ready to accept your punishment as you have learnt that hiding and denying only makes it worse.

James isn't so bad if you follow his rules.

He is just a kidnapper and a misogynist with dangerous reflexes.

His face is smug as he puts the book away. You have noticed that he is not as stiff and troubled as he used to be when you first woke up here months ago at this point.

"How was it, doll?" He loves to hear you talk about it as he bruises your ass. "Any luck?"

Today, though, something different happens.

You don't know if it's resignation and surrender finally settling in or if you have actually started to like this life.

How James gives you a nod of approval and pats your head rewardingly whenever you follow all your rules without any trouble.

The way he lets you stay up past your bed time (yes you have one because good wives are healthy for their husbands) to read a book or watch a movie.

If you were extra good and talked to him (though he was a man of a few words) and helped him out with a little farming thing he had going on in the backyard/patio, he would even let you sleep in the following morning.

No stress or pulling yourself through classes and tight budgets.

Just being what he considered good and then whatever you would mention briefly would be in the house within the next few days.

When he is done punishing you, you thank him and apologize according to routine. But then you hug him.

You tell yourself it is due to the sad reality that your torment is your comfort.

Has to be.

You have no choice.

And then something unexpected happens in the course of the next few days.

While trying to make the best out of this situation, you start to notice the little things, quirks and rituals, habits and mannerisms of this man.

How he doesn't say anything if he doesn't like a certain ingredient or condiment in something you cooked but pushes it aside to use as compost later.

The way he holds you extra tight some times when he mutters a foreign language in his sleep.

How he stares at the scary metal arm after a long day while waiting for you to finish up dinner.

Or the way he struggles to hold himself back whenever you are in a close proximity to him because you cried once he crept his hand up your ass in a sexual way.

You don't get him sometimes.

His morals are as mysterious as him.

Because he kidnapped you and forced you to be his wife in a '40's way, strips you to spank and humiliate you during punishments, then bathes and comforts you in his own way of silently holding you against his chest in his arms until you calm down.

Your tears don't effect him.

But then he refuses to touch you sexually after the one time he tried.

It takes you a while to make the most peace that you can with James, but it happens eventually because you don't have a choice.

The loneliness starts to drive you mad otherwise.

You are helping him with his farming one day when you collapse.

James isn't happy to find out that you haven't had any of your daily water intake for the day.

After he is sure you are hydrated, it is punishment time because caring for yourself is also a rule you are supposed to never break.

Your ass is red and seething by the time he's done. Everything is pretty much routine except that you don't sit up to apologize and maybe hug him like usual.

Not even when he pats your ass to signal that he's done.

"H- Hubby?" You sniffle as you use the endearment.

It had been a proud discovery of yours.

James always gave in a little whenever you used it.

"Yes, little mouse?" You bite your lips as your thighs tremble.

Fuck.

"Y- You say we are husband and wife…"

"What about it?"

You bite your lip as you push your ass out and towards him, letting your legs part.

"Then why don't we act like it?" James is good at concealing his emotions and showing restraint.

But he can't help the way his cock hardens at the sight your pretty red thighs reveal to him.

Your perfect pussy is glistening with your creamy arousal, the entrance of your vagina blinking to indicate its need to be filled.

Fuck.

Though James starts off small and slow with his fingers rubbing your cunt, the night ends with him balls deep into your pussy with his length rearranging your organs.

Whatever was left of you to own for him, he does so after that night.

You cannot go on for long without having some sort of physical proximity to him.

The sex is wild and it's amazing with his stamina.

It is also instrumental in bringing you two closer than ever.

James opens up to you slowly, but only when you ask about it.

You had done so in the past as well.

But since it's genuine curiosity now, he feels comfortable telling you all about it.

It is a lot for you to take in and you almost don't believe him until he shows you some of his belongings from his time.

Things drift on as smoothly for a while as the waves outside your house.

And then comes the ultimate test.

Which decides the course of your future with him.

He is still asleep one morning when you wake up.

It isn't a usual occurrence.

But you had introduced him to comics lately and he had been obsessed with them despite claiming that they were too childish and unrealistic.

While he had a metal arm himself…

You adjust the quilt before getting ready for the day and heading out to make breakfast.

It is when you realize in panic that there aren't any apples left even though James had asked you to make a grocery list (that started when he started trusting you more) and you had assured him that you had enough apples for a while.

"I am gonna get the hairbrush today, I swear to God!" You mutter to yourself as you rush through the house like a headless chicken.

Thankfully, your garden had an apple tree so you could save yourself from a breakfast spanking at the very least.

But something standing next to the dock catches your attention before you can the apples you try to budge free from their branches.

A motorboat.

Before you can decide what you think of it, you are standing next to it on the dock.

It has fuel and a map. The key is in the ignition.

You narrow your eyes and feel your head splitting.

A lot goes through your mind.

Flashbacks play before your eyes.

It is almost a full circle moment.

And then you are standing in front of James who is seated on a stool next to the kitchen counter you use for dining.

His head is lowered as he sips on his coffee and stabs at the breakfast you prepared with a fork.

"Hubby?" Your captor freezes before he slowly looks up at you.

The blue of his eyes is troubled. He is in disbelief. As though he wasn't expecting you to be standing here.

"There is a boat outside. Do you think someone could be–"

"You didn't leave." His voice is heavy.

"What kind of a wife leaves her home?"

You two just stare at each other for a while.

No words exchanged.

Then, for the first time ever, James gets up and hurriedly closes the distance between you two, enveloping you in his arms before pushing you against the wall behind you.

"I felt so angry and wronged that I thought I could take anything because I deserved it after everything that happened to me but… I love you too much, mouse."

He has never spoken this earnestly before.

"I just realized that I do too."

James kisses you passionately before you wrap yourself around him and close your eyes blissfully.

He tightens his own arms around you gladly.

He would have hated to end up back on square one with you had you chosen to try and escape.

The boat would have blown up a small fuse that would have been loud enough for his enhanced hearing if someone– you, were to turn the keys in the ignition.

Yes, he wasn't expecting you to be back but only too soon.

It was a test and you passed.

As always, James stuck to his ways and rewarded you for being such a good wife.

By giving you a ring, a new wardrobe and a baby that was the first of many to come.

What do you think hAH-

3K notes · View notes

stevebabey · 1 year

Text

part one here. ze part two to touch-starved stevie that absolutely no one requested hehe <3 but i gots to let my boys have a wee kiss :")

So, hugs with Eddie become… well, a thing.

Not a thing. They’re not a thing, Steve and Eddie. It’s totally the same as when he gets hugs from Robin. Eddie’s doing him a favour as a friend. It’s got the 100% platonic energy of getting a hug from a friend — a hug that usually melts into some form of a cuddle, limbs all tangled together until they can’t tell whose are whose.

Except, Steve doesn’t really do that second part with Robin. Like he hasn’t done it ever with Robin.

So, it’s an Eddie thing.

But they’re not a thing. Not matter how much Steve would actually very much like for that happen. Okay, maybe Steve’s overthinking the whole thing a bit, but he just can’t tell.

Where’s the line? It’s infuriating not being able to discern between platonic and more, just because Steve wasn’t held enough as a fucking baby. Out of all the things he resents his parents for, Steve’s surprised that this is so near the top.

Because, sure, Steve’s had more than his fair share of hookups. He knows that sort of touch. He knows the shape of lust; the scrapes of fingernails down backs, the tight grips over skin, the push and pull of the heat of the moment.

And this thing with Eddie… is not that.

So, really, Steve knows that it’s all friendly. Eddie is just being nice. He’s being a decent dude and helping his friend out — by catapulting himself into Steve’s arms at every opportune moment.

(Steve’s only dropped 3 mugs of coffee because of this so far. It’s only because Eddie says good catch, big boy with a devilish grin every time that Steve manages to catch Eddie that Steve hasn’t completely told him to knock it off. Just yet, at least.)

And he’s different in other areas. He’ll always seem to choose the seat next to Steve on movie-nights now, content to snuggle right up to him. They get thigh to thigh, arm to arm — and Eddie only needs to get about 20 minutes in for him to do a big sigh, like an old dog, and slump over, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve notices though. He always notices.

It’s impossible not to— the skin, even if there’s 3 layers between them, burns blazing warm. Eddie’s hair drapes over his arm, a curl inevitably tickling along Steve’s collar. He can feel the rise and fall of Eddie’s breathing, the little shake of when he laughs.

It drives Steve a little insane— insane in the way that makes him think about burying his fingers in those curls again, about pressing his lips against Eddie’s pretty mouth just to feel the smile against his skin, about digging into his chest so he can climb into his chest and live there.

Yeah, it’s— well, it’s safe to say that the effect of Eddie’s touchiness has sent what was once a fleeting thought of a crush into mind-melting levels of affection.

But he can’t fucking tell.

To Steve’s credit, neither can Eddie.

Which is not surprisingly considering sometimes he catches himself wondering how the hell he ended up here; in a close-knit friendship with band-geek Robin Buckley, princess Nancy Wheeler, and King Steve Harrington.

Okay, the Robin one sort of makes sense. He thinks that if no matter when their paths crossed, he and Robin would’ve always even some sort of strange friends - her snark complimenting his bitchiness. Also, the whole super queer thing helps too. Even the friendship with Nancy works, in its own weird way.

Steve though? He’s the fucking curve ball.

It works though, the two of them. Surprisingly well, actually — the two of them get on like a house on fire, bitchy quips back and forth. Even better, is the quiet that they can share. Steve loves to come around and do… nothing. Do nothing with Eddie, though.

So, even though Eddie had noticed the tension in Steve with touch, little moments where he turned rigid when Eddie’s usual wandering hands got too comfortable — Eddie chalked it up to the usual. Guys bring too uncomfortable with him, too weird about another guy being touchy. It didn’t matter than Eddie wasn’t even out to Steve yet, he was still might be that type of guy.

Well, Eddie had certainly thought so. Sure, Steve might not be one of those jocks who smacked around boys who looked too long in the locker room, but if he knew a smidge of the truth, who really knows. It would explain the tenseness at least.

But then— ‘Can I… have a hug?’ There had been a dozen things Eddie was thinking that Steve could’ve asked for but that? Wasn’t even in the ballpark. It was so left-field it left Eddie speechless for a whole moment. And Steve had been staring at the ceiling, his hands curled up tight again like- like he thought Eddie might say no.

A ridiculous thought, honestly. Anyone who knew Eddie well enough knew he was touchy; loved giving it, loved getting it. Like an overly affectionate cat, Wayne had once called him, just 11 years old, because Eddie’s need for affection seem to never be sated.

After that night, Steve’s lack of touch became far more obvious. It’s always hair ruffles or high-fives, yet never hugs. Normally, Eddie would keep to that boundary; some people are less touchy other than others, he knows that.

But… “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile, since I’ve had some touch.” That’s what Steve had said, his words. Eddie doesn’t even think he meant to say something so heartbreaking. In fact, the guy seemed embarrassed.

It had thrown Eddie for a loop— because Steve gets around. He’s nearly notorious for one-night stands and failed flings, as Robin loves to drone on about considering she’s subjected to all the flirting. What had originally been a point of envy for Eddie, just saturates the bleakness of Steve’s words. Sex but without a moment of intimacy.

So, while Eddie is miles away from being the person who gets into Steve’s pants — not for lack of want, mind you — he does try hike up the touchiness. Little things. Lingering when he taps him on the arm, hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder to peer over it, leaning up against him when they’re side by side watching a film.

It’s good. It helps Eddie release the pressure of his stupid monumental god-awful crush he has. Yeah, yeah, it’s laughable, even to Eddie. It’s like Gay 101; don’t get crush on straight dudes, especially the ones you’re friends with. And yet…

Steve lets him. He lets Eddie give him touch, more than he lets anyone else. He still tenses; there’s still always a moment before he can remember to relax, like he’s trying to shake off bad thoughts but then he melts. He always melts into Eddie’s touch eventually — in a way Eddie knows Steve actually loves it, drinks it up as much as he can.

And maybe, Eddie is the biggest fool to grace the Earth to let that fact give him some hope. Sue his gooey heart, he’s a romantic. It’s a quiet hope but, it’s there.

Tonight, it seems relaxing for Steve is been harder than usual— several times has Eddie traced a quite long along Steve’s arms, a subtle point that they were far too tense for someone who was wrapped up in cuddles on the couch. ‘Cos that’s 100% what they are now. Eddie will still call them hugs, but usually, when it’s just the two of them, it becomes this.

Steve, tucked up into the corner of the couch, one leg flush along the back of the couch and one hanging off the edge. It’s the prime position for Eddie to crawl up, wind his arms around Steve’s middle and give him a good squeeze and then settle there. Head on Steve’s chest, lying in the cradle of his hips. Safe. Warm.

It makes him warm, oh very warm to know that he gets this. That Steve doesn’t give this amount of trust to many, if any, other people but Eddie — he trusts Eddie.

“Y’know,” Eddie says, cheeks smushed against the plain of Steve’s pec. It feels deliciously warm and Eddie’s fairly sure he can feel how toned it is just through his cheek. Hot bastard. “I’m actually real glad you asked for that hug all those weeks ago.”

He leaves it there ‘cos he knows Steve will ask. Eddie’s eyes stay on the buzzing tv-screen even as Steve’s head shifts, turning to peer down at the boy slumped on his chest. Eddie’s pretty sure he can see Steve’s mouth twitch up into a smile.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie affirms, giving a nod and his eyes flick up to meet Steve’s for just a moment. “Think I’ve had some of the best hugs in the world.”

Okay, that was maybe more honest and sappy than Eddie was going for. He is just letting Steve know he isn’t just doing it for Steve — that he enjoys these moments just as much. He lays it on thick, tries for a smarmy angle.

“Swept up in these pillowy arms?” He croons, giving Steve’s bicep a quick squeeze, making the other chuckle softly. “Who wouldn’t think so? I’m a lucky guy.”

Despite the joking tone, there’s no quick comeback from Steve. That’s alright. Eddie’s quite happy if this is one of the times Steve just takes the compliment; let’s the word sink in and hopefully, believes them, even if it’s just a little bit. He watches the film and doesn’t read into the silence.

Not even when Steve says, “Eddie?” all soft. Nearly shy sounding. It doesn’t quite register to Eddie’s ears.

“Mm?”

“Eddie.” Steve says again, a little firmer and that catches Eddie’s attention. He turns his head and rests his chin on Steve’s chest, his brows drawn together in silent question.

But the moment he makes eye contact, Steve’s doing that scrunched up face again. Is studying the ceiling instead of facing Eddie. And just like all those weeks ago, his hands clench up tight. Twists up the fabric of Eddie’s sweater in between his fingers and uses it to ground himself.

Last time, he asked for a hug. Considering he’s currently just about squishing Steve beneath his body weight, Eddie can’t fathom what he might be worked up to ask for. Unless he was going to ask for something more than a hug— which, well, just wasn’t going to happen, even if Eddie really wanted it to.

“Can I-” Steve starts. He sucks in a breath, almost like he’s gathering courage. But he’s not, because he’s not about to ask for what Eddie hopes for, he’s not, he’s—

Unless…?

“Can I… have a kiss?” Steve asks, barely audible. The sentence is murmured, soft words that hit Eddie like a gentle kiss in itself — imprinting right onto his heart. Steve Harrington wants a kiss — from him!

“Oh.” Eddie says, in a breathy delightful way. He’s fairly certain the little monkey in his brain is clapping its cymbals at double-speed as the words process; or maybe it’s his heart, which feels like it’s leapt up his throat.

“Oh?” Steve echoes, a smile already playing at the edges of his mouth, because he can see Eddie’s want. Because he knows him.

“Yes.” Eddie says suddenly, with a frantic nod, pushing up closer so their faces are aligned. “Yes, absolutely, you can.” He affirms.

Steve huffs a quiet laugh at the eagerness and then his arm that had been slung around Eddie shifts. It moves up til his hand caresses along the line of Eddie’s jaw, tilting him just how he likes.

Eddie holds his breath. Counts the freckles he can see this close. Tries to feel Steve’s heartbeat through where they’re pressed so closely together; can Steve feel his? Thundering and hurried, beating so hard Eddie thinks he might bruise the inside of his ribs.

Then Steve kisses him. And shit, Steve’s lip are better by ten-fold than every daydream Eddie’s ever had about them. They’re warm and so soft — plush and pressing against his own and Eddie is freezing. Fuck, wait, how does this go again? Right, Eddie’s never… well, kissed anybody before.

Steve pulls back and Eddie screws his eyes up — not ready in the slightest for the disappointment of his own shoddy kissing skills. Fuck, did he really just freeze? Steve — Steve Harrington — asks for a kiss and Eddie decides to stab himself in the back by not figuring out how to fuck to kiss back.

“You call that a kiss?” Steve teases and Eddie’s well aware of the parallel — of the irony of Steve repeating his own words back at him. But he can’t make himself laugh even though it’s funny. Instead, a little groan wiggles out his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, earnest. He forces his eyes opens — he needs to see what’s Steve’s thinking. Where he’s expecting disappointment or perhaps regret, is only patience. Maybe a touch of concern. Eddie continues, despite the humiliation that makes his throat sticky.

“I haven’t- I don’t do this often.” He coughs awkwardly clearing his throat and hoping it hides the next word. “Ever.”

There’s a jump in Steve’s eyebrows, a moment of surprise in his eyes that lets him know he did, indeed, hear that final word. It makes Eddie feel… well, it’s nice that Steve had expected him to have been kissed by now. Even if he hasn’t. He tries to take it as a compliment.

“That’s okay,” Steve assures. Absentmindedly, his thumb rubs soothing along Eddie’s jaw. It makes Eddie shiver, some outrageous amount of joy clawing into every nerve. Steve likes Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie.

“Do you want to try again?”

Eddie nods before the questions even out of his mouth. Steve smiles, all sunshine. This time when he draws Eddie in, he notices the way Eddie holds his breath — the rigidness in his body.

Steve kisses him again, another short and soft one and then whispers against his lips, “Relax.”

‘Cos isn’t tonight just full of the parallels, Eddie thinks. He listens, tries to focus on how sweet Steve’s kiss is than his panicky heart, forcing out a breath between the kisses. His hands along Steve’s sides find a grip, grounding and good, and by the fourth kiss, he begins to feel a bit melty.

It’s good. It’s really good. Kissing Steve is top 5– nay, the top moment of his life so far. Somehow, it’s made all that much better knowing the build-up behind it. Knowing that Steve knows he isn’t just kissing him for a heat of the moment — that Eddie wants kisses here, kisses before bed, in the morning, on dates. Eddie wants Steve.

And with the way he kisses, Eddie’s pretty sure Steve wants him just as bad.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to reach what Eddie decides is an ultra pretty fuckin’ state; lips swollen from kisses, cheeks flushed, hair a little mussed up. He bets he looks no better. The thought makes him grin, enough they have to break the kiss ‘cos Eddie can’t stop his stupid happy grin ‘cos shit— he actually gets to have this Steve.

“What?” Steve asks, somehow half heart-eyed and half suspicious at the mischief in Eddie’s eyes.

“Can I... have a hickie?”

now with a part three !

#at this point call this the 'can i' series #sweet boys asking each other for things they most certainly would be given <3 #but don't think they will <3 #tried to flip it and make it so even tho eddie is used to touch. the romantic touch? he's got none! that's where he's touch-starved #ALSO EVERYONE'S TAGS WERE SO NICE ON THE LAST ONE #trust i am. not feelin so bad nowadays (me saying this like 4 days later lmao)#but <3 thank u all #gay ppl in my phone.... you know what to do #ruby writes steddie #steve x eddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #touch-starved steve harrington #not rlly anymore hehe #does anyone notice that it ends with yet another 'can i?" question? HEHE #yet again stib gets kisses where ruby doesn't but alas <3 dis is way fluffier this time #nearly went the angst route! and went hmmmm naur #ok ok i'll be quiet now

5K notes · View notes

ponderingmoonlight · 5 months

Text

How JJK men react when you fall asleep on them

Pairing: Nanami x reader; Gojo x reader; Inumaki x reader (first time yay, thank you @emzalot and @trysudio for the great idea <3)

Word Count: 3,4k

Warnings: not proofread because I really have to go to work right now lol, a little language here and there, otherwise fluff overload, will write a part ll of this so if you wanna get tagged leave a comment and let me know. Also, I'd appreciate it sooooo much if you'd interact with this fic and showed some support <3

Kento Nanami

It’s been a hell of a week. Work swallows you whole, curses appear like plagues out of nowhere. This summer seems to be worse than any year before, worse than anything you’ve ever witnessed despite the stinging fact that you are a grade 1 sorcerer.

“When was the last time you’ve slept, (y/n)?” Satoru questions playfully when you walk past him.

You have no energy for his bullshit right now, feet shuffling on the floor without a real aim. Oh, but you do have an aim-

Him.

“Can’t remember anymore. Let me go home now”, you mumble, heart beating a little faster just by the thought of it.

Going home means meeting him. After weeks of being apart, after weeks of not really seeing each other, you’ll finally come back home to him. Kento Nanami, the best boyfriend walking on this earth. Kento Nanami, who was the one who forced Gojo to talk to the elders in order to give you a few days off. Kento Nanami, who is the only thing on your mind except for sleep right now.

“Come on, let me drive you home, (y/n). No need for you to walk that whole way”, Gojo suggests.

You can’t argue. In fact, you don’t even want to. Even the thought of sitting for a few minutes seems like a relieve at the moment.

“Your man was really mad when he found out you were assigned for another bunch of missions this week, threatened to slap me if I don’t talk to the elders”, the man next to you comments amused while starting the car.

Kento is a calm and collected man, never too much of anything. But when it comes to you and your safety, he seems to put on another face.

Definitely a hot one.

“I hope he slapped you anyway”, you reply with a weak grin, earning a heartfelt laugh from Gojo.

“Not yet, but let me escort you to the door just in case.”

He stops the car, your numb body refusing to get up. You just started to get comfortable, maybe you’re able to rest your eyes on the passenger seat for a second…

“Come on, you just need to walk inside. Kento already waits for you.”

“Did you drive her here?”

Oh, that sweet voice. That sweet voice you get drunk on over and over again, that voice that lures you into relieving darkness. Now you’re save. Now you’re finally able to rest.

“Hey sweetheart, are you alright?”

His comforting touch caresses your cheek gently, you can tell he’s gazing down at you worried. But as much as you want to lift you arms and finally embrace your boyfriend in a tight hug, as much as you are forcing your eyes to open and take in his striking sight, you simply can’t move.

“Let me carry you inside. You definitely need to rest now”, he mumbles.

Softly, he lifts you out of the passenger seat. You feel like melting away in an instant, the mixture of his masculine scent along with the warmth of his body being your personal heaven on earth. God, how much you love that man, how much adore that he stood up for you, that he lets you rest in his comforting arms right now.

“Thank you for helping me out”, Nanami addresses towards Gojo.

“No need for that. We’re buddies after all, right? And I don’t wanna get slapped by you. Good night, (y/n), sleep tight!”

As much as you’d love to bite back, your tongue is so numb you can’t even bring out anything apart from a minor groan.

Kento’s tall frame begins to walk, his tight muscles reflecting every little movement against your head. What a sensation it is, knowing that you’ll lay curled up next to him in bed within the next minutes.

“Missed you”, you mumble.

His touch brushes over your back comfortingly while he steps back into the warmth of your inviting home.

“I’m so glad you’re home again, sweetheart. But before you’re all mine, you have to catch up with your sleep. When was the last time you were able to rest?”

You can’t put a finger on it. Apart from a few short naps now and then, there was absolutely no chance to sleep for 3 hours straight within the last week. But telling Kento that definitely doesn’t seem like a good idea, not that you are able to build a straight sentence anyway.

“Don’t know”, you hush.

Gently, he lays you down onto your soft mattress. You curl up in an instant, taking in his scent inside the soft linen of your blanket. Oh, this feels like nothing but heaven. Especially because he positions himself next to you, pressing your back against his broad chest.

“Get your well-deserved rest. I won’t let something like that happen again”, he breathes against your ear.

“I love you, Kento. Thanks for standing up for me…”

His skilled fingers tuck a strand of hair that hangs in your face behind your ear before stroking your head just the way you like it.

“I will always look after you, (y/n). Now rest a little and tell me about the last weeks when you’re ready. I’ve already shopped for this evening, I want to cook your favourite meal for you. And-“

He stops himself from talking, your low and steady breath making it more than clear that you are already sound asleep. With a small smile, Kento tucks you into the blanket and presses a kiss against your forehead. Oh, how much you deserve to finally rest, how lovely you look with your relaxed facial features and your head completely swallowed by your pillow

“Sleep tight, I love you more than anything else, (y/n).”

Satoru Gojo

“No offense, but you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

You can’t hold in a yawn, teary eyes staring at the man in front of you. That definitely was a rough mission. So rough that Satoru Gojo had to step in to save your puny ass. And if that wasn’t embarrassing enough, you can barely keep your eyes open. That fucking demon you weren’t able to exorcise all night, fucking Satoru Gojo who took forever to come to your rescue.

“I’m fine”, you grumble, avoiding his gaze at any cost.

Why on earth does it have to be him? Why Satoru Gojo instead of someone decent like Geto? Now, you’ll have to live with his stupid comments for at least some months.

“Baby, you look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Don’t call me baby”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

Get yourself together, keep your eyes open. Why on earth are you so damn tired right now? Maybe because you were fighting the whole night, maybe because you haven’t slept enough for ages.

“Feel free to rest a little, this car ride will take us some time”, Ijichi interrupts softly, gazing at you through the mirror.

“I’m fine”, you groan.

God, why is everything so damn annoying at the moment? Your eyes wander to the man next to you who just grins from ear to ear. It’s because of him, that fucker over there.

“Don’t worry, I will take care if something happens”, he assures you.

Urgh, you are too tired to deal with his shit-talking right now. You turn pointedly towards the window, staring into the rainy late morning. What time is it? You have no idea. All that you know is that you’ve been awake for more than 48 hours by now, your body being completely worn out and covered in bruises. Maybe Shoko will give you a decent pain killer that shoots you into another dimension. Yeah, that actually sounds nice.

Satoru’s eyes lay on you, how your body gets sluggish in the car seat with every passing minute. Until your head rests against the window, until your heavy eyes get the best of you and your mouth opens. Yes, you were completely worn out by the time he arrived. And it is more than well-deserved that you rest now. But why do you have to look this lovely while doing so?

“Is she asleep?”, Ijichi questions softly.

“Oh she definitely is. No wonder after that hell of a mission. Please turn the music down a little so she doesn’t wake up.”

Even though you’re always act cold towards him, Satoru can’t help but admire you from afar. You are so feisty, so strong, so lovely it takes his breath away. It seems like the only time he’s even able to look your way properly is when you are asleep.

And he enjoys every second of it.

Ijichi makes a sharp turn to the left, eyes widen in horror when another car is only inches away from crashing into him. Before Satoru is able to react, your body crashes against his, your head now resting against his shoulder. He holds his breath, heart almost beating out of his chest. He never came this close to you, not without you complaining. From here, you look even lovelier, your steady breath brushing against his neck in a way that makes him see start.

But you don’t seem to mind. No, instead your arm wraps itself around his as you rub your head against his shoulder in order to find a comfortable position.

“Is she still sleeping? I hope this didn’t wake her up…”

“Nah, she’s asleep”, Satoru mumbles.

The urge to touch you becomes almost unbearable. How is he supposed to sit still when you are cuddled against him like this? How is he supposed to not stretch out his hand when your hair looks so inviting, when he wondered about what your skin feels like since knowing you?

A little touch can’t hurt, right? A simple, innocent touch…

Slowly, his trembling fingertip brushes over your cheek. It feels like electricity is running through his veins where his skin meets yours. You really are strikingly beautiful, even when your face is squished against his shoulder, even when your mouth hangs slightly open. And oh, the perfume you wear smells absolutely intoxicating. How is it possible he never realized how good you smell?

“Hello?”

He stares at you with his eyes wide open, movement stuck in its tracks while you blink away the sleep and gaze up at him in drunken confusion.

“Are we there yet?”

“No, we’re still on our way back”, he explains briefly.

You look around, the realization of where you are slowly but surely hitting you like a wall. Oh god, is this Satoru Gojo you’re resting your head on? And is it his hand that cups your cheeks.

“I-Im so sorry!”, you stutter, instantly lifting yourself up and stroking your hair.

Fuck, why is this so embarrassing? Even Gojo’s cheeks get light pink while he avoids your gaze, fumbling with his hands frantically.

“Nah I’m sorry. Should have pushed you back…”

You swallow hard, death silence hanging in the air. Even though you only slept for maybe 10 minutes, you feel like you haven’t had such a good nap in a long time. Was is because of him? Is it because you feel…safe?

“Your shoulder was quite comfortable”, you mutter before you can stop yourself.

“Yeah, you think so?”

“Somehow, yeah…”

Is Satoru Gojo maybe not as bad as you thought? He could have yanked your body back into the seat immediately if he wanted to. Hell, you wouldn’t have been able to even touch him if he didn’t allow it. So maybe, just maybe he doesn’t hate you as much as you thought he does.

Just like you.

“Well, you can come over here anytime y’know.”

Your eyes dart towards him in an instant, looking for a single spark of dark humour on his face. But no. All he does is awkwardly smiling and patting his shoulder like he’s inviting you over.

Is this…Alright? Should you really do it?

“Your arm seems comfier than the window, so why not…”

Hesitantly, you loosen your seatbelt and slide into the middle seat right next to him. The warmth radiating from his body seems to swallow you whole in an instant, a yarn escaping you just by the thought of continuing your nap.

“Don’t you dare to tell anybody about this”, you mumble against his shoulder, eyelids already so heavy that you fail to keep them open.

“I will use this against you whenever I have the chance to.”

“Sato…”

Toge Inumaki

It’s hard to keep your eyes open when the old fart in front of you talks about his boring and made up adventures for over 2 hours by now. Not even the stinging fact that your crush is sitting next to you can keep you from holding your head in your hands, eyes slowly but surely closing.

Unexpectedly you feel a hand tapping against your forearm, ripping you out of your daydreams. Toge’s smile catches you off guard, sweeps you off the ground and almost off your chair. How embarrassing, did you really almost fall asleep while sitting next to him? Today was the first time you’ve had enough courage to ask him if he wants to sit next to you. How are you even able to be tired when he’s so close you can literally feel the heat radiating from his body?

With a firm smile, he slides a little note your way.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep”

You swallow, cheeks heating up in an instant. So he noticed? Oh no, earth should swallow you whole and get you out of this mess as soon as possible. Even though you can tell by his gorgeous eyes that he’s grinning, you can’t help but feel deeply ashamed.

“Thank you”, you mutter through gritted teeth, eyes darting towards the old fart in front.

Why didn’t you go to sleep early tonight, why did you read through all of those chapters when you knew that you’ll have a lecture early in the morning? That slow burn just really got you. Oh, but the main character reminds you so much of him. Him, the boy who doesn’t speak in anything but sushi ingredients in order to save all of you from getting cursed. Him, whose smile could enchant entire nations. Him, who stole your heart since you’ve joined Jujutsu High along his side back then.

But why do you have to make it so complicated, why do you have to act so damn strange around him? Toge must think you’re a total freak, always admiring him from afar while never really talking much with him. Even though he agreed on sitting next to you today, he might have done it because he feels sorry for you.

Your head sinks deeper and deeper, eyes closing themselves before you are able to stop them. When you get home, you’ll definitely finish that enemies to lovers story you’ve read all night. Maybe you’ll be able to be proud of youself for asking him out when you’re back in your room. And just maybe, you’ll be able to ask him out on a date sometime. Maybe stargazing? Or watching a movie together. Just the thought of cuddling with him…

Toge’s eyes dart towards you. Considering your slow breaths and how your head rests in your arms, you definitely fell asleep. Gently, he shakes your shoulder and back, taps your arm and slides a note your way.

“Tuna tuna”, he mumbles inaudibly.

But nothing works. No, your body doesn’t move an inch except for your head that searches a comfortable position. Slowly but surely, your head threatens to wander off the desk, sending you straight towards the floor.

His eyes dart around frantically. What is he supposed to do now? He can’t let the old man notice you fell asleep and risk that you’ll hurt your head. But on the other hand…

Touching you is something he imagined quite often. Since he first laid his eyes on you, it was over. Searching for you in every crowd, sitting next to you as often as possible, protecting you at any cost. Yes, Toge Inumaki fell head over heels for you.

But somehow it seems like you aren’t that interested in him, avoiding his gaze as good as possible, always mumbling short answers only. It surprised him when you came up to him today and asked him to sit next to you, his heart still beating out of his chest just by your presence. Would you be mad, disgusted even if he grabbed you, even if only to save you from falling to the ground?

He clenches his hands into fists, watching in horror as you begin to slide down your chair. What is he supposed to do?

In the matter of seconds, his hands grab your uniform just before you’re about to fall to the floor, catching you just in time and pulling your head onto his lap.

Onto his lap.

You are laying in his lap.

Oh god, this feels so right. No, he has to focus, what will you think of him when you wake up like that? And what will the others do when they catch both of you in this strange-looking position? His face goes pale in an instant, hands desperately holding onto your back so you don’t slide down. This is bad, very very bad. But on the other hand…

No, he can’t enjoy the fact that you’re laying in his lap right now, he can’t allow to let himself fall like that. You are asleep, it would be disgusting to use you like that. Especially when you clearly don’t like him the way he likes you.

He has no other chance but to wake you up.

“Sake”, he mutters along with gently tapping your shoulder.

“Sake.”

You don’t react. Instead, you cuddle yourself into his lap, arm now resting across his legs. He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath in and out.

“Sake!”, he hisses into your ear as loud as possible with somebody else noticing.

You jerk up, eyes darting around in confusion. What just happened? You must’ve fallen asleep. Urgh, that old fart is still talking…

“Tuna tuna?”

You blink at the boy next to you with doe eyes. He looks absolutely messed up, glossy orbs staring at you in pure horror. Oh no, did you do something embarrassing? Did you snore next to him? Or worse, did you drool?

Frantically, you wipe over your face. This is a nightmare and you’re still absolutely drained.

“I-I’m sorry”, you stutter.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m just a idiot and went to bed way too late last night”, you blubber out.

Gently, Toge grabs the arm that is about to wipe over your face again mid-air and slides another note your way.

“You look cute when you sleep. Would you like to have a movie night when you’re fit again?”

You stare at the neatly written note with widen eyes. This can’t be real, right? Your crush didn’t just ask you out after you passed out on the desk during lecture. It’s like your tongue is stuck in your throat, mouth not able to move. This is way too good to be true, something you’ve dreamt about each and every night. Toge, having a movie night with you?

He stares at you nervously, how you blink over and over again in sheer disbelief. Oh no, was this a mistake, do you think he is a freak for asking you out on a movie night just after you fell asleep? What if you know that you laid in his lap, that he touched you without permission? This was a stupid idea, you made it clear multiple times that you aren’t interested in him like that-

“I…I’d love to”, you suddenly mutter so silently that Toge almost misses it.

“Salmon?”

“Yeah…I mean, if you’re still up for a meeting…”

“You two, will you shut up already? I’ll remove you from this class if you keep on talking!” the old man suddenly screams so loud that you flinch, sitting straight in your chair in an instant while your eyes dart towards him.

Toge shoves another note your way.

“I’m really excited about meeting you.”

Tags:

@arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez

1K notes · View notes

rashomonss · 1 year

Text

MC and the brothers

context: cute little headcanons i have about MC and the demon brothers

a/n: also what?? rashomonss isn’t posting angst?? jk jk i promise I’m not up to anything so enjoy some fluff

my love for you transcends time

When you and the brothers are out and about on the street weather you all are going out to dinner, doing some shopping, or even just hanging out the brothers will all walk in a circle around you unconsciously.

The two leading the MC circle are both Lucifer and Mammon (since I believe they have longer strides than the others when they walk).

Behind them are Satan and Asmo who will always walk to the side of you, and then Levi will always walk at an angle behind you and them this works best for him since he can hide behind you and his brothers if he gets annoyed with other people.

Lastly in the back of the MC circle are the twins. Belphie doesn’t have that long of a stride so he’s a slow walker and Beel will always match whatever pace his twin walks unconsciously.

So they are always at the back because if anything they can just tap you to get your attention and you’ll slow down to walk with them. However the MC circle happens all the time when they are all with you.

It scares a few lower level demons at times because here are the seven rulers of hell all walking around and talking, but there you are in the middle, barely able to be seen over them but still laughing and talking with them.

If you’re out to eat for dinner you all have certain seats. The brothers of course have their own seating arrangements when they go out to eat, but when you came into the picture they all changed seats.

So without fail you all will always sit a certain way at restaurants and such. This can differ depending on their moods and the day.

You tend to carry around seven different types of things whenever you buy something. It could be a snack or a drink you picked up from the RAD cafeteria, but without fail there will always be seven different flavors of it in your hands.

Because once you buy something for one brother you think about the others and feel the need to get them something too, otherwise you’ll have to make a trip back with them to get what they wanted. So to save yourself the trouble you usually just get each of them something.

Each of them like to latch onto you whenever they walk you to whichever class you have at RAD. They will each find their own way to do that.

Lucifer prefers holding your hand, or at rare moments linking arms.

Mammon’s go to is intertwining your fingers as you drag him along to your next class.

Levi likes to latch onto you from behind when he attends in person.

Satan prefers when you hold onto his arm then hold his hand.

And Asmo definitely wants you all over him, except he’s always all over you.

Beel’s simple, holding hands is more than enough for him, honestly the fact that you’re alone with him just makes him happy.

Belphie can differ depending on the day. If he’s exceptionally tired then linking arms is your go to since you spend your time dragging him along, however if he’s not that tired then he prefers to lean on you and hold your hand as you walk.

Don’t mind the stares from the lower level demons, the brothers gaze is enough to scare them off.

You all have a set system for ordering at a restaurant. Lucifer goes first of course, thus giving everyone time to remember their order.

Then Mammon follows, after Mammon you’ll order, however if you don’t feel like ordering for yourself then Mammon will always order for you.

Next is Satan then Asmo, followed by Levi and Belphie.

Lastly is Beel since he always has the biggest order.

You usually end up feeling bad for the waiter because after Beel’s order they always seem confused.

You all have designated seats also on the couch during movie nights.

Of course you’re in the middle it’s better this way so the brothers don’t end up fighting over you.

Next to you on one side is usually Mammon or Lucifer, on your other side will be Asmo and Satan.

Levi and the twins prefer the floor since it’s less crowded. Levi will lay his head on one of your legs while Beel will rest his head on the other. Belphie will then lay across the two using them as pillows. They all like to cuddle in this position as well if it’s later into the night.

Each brother leaves something important of his in your room. This gives them a reason to go visit you in case they need it.

Of course Mammon leaves almost a spare of everything in your room since he sometimes treats it like his own.

Levi leaves a few games and manga in your room so he has something to do if he wants to destress in your room.

Beel of course leaves snacks, however when you did explain to him about not wanting crumbs all over your floor he got into the habit of leaving his favorite jacket in your room. Often times when he remembers to go get it he finds you wearing it and smiles soon deciding he can just pick it up later.

Asmo leaves his beauty products and makeup in your private bathroom. When asked why he doesn’t take it back to his room he gave you somelame excuse about not wanting to carry all of it back.

Satan likes to leave his unfinished books along with his favorite book marks just so he can tell you about them when he visits your room.

Belphie leaves his pillow in your room, specifically on your bed. It sometimes freaks you out when you walk into your room and just see a body in your bed. However after further examination you find it’s just Belphie passed out like usual.

Lucifer doesn’t leave anything in your room, he’s to tidy for that. Is what he wants to believe. He often leaves some of his favorite pens or some unfinished documents on your table in hopes of seeing you again. Of course he’s always welcome in your room but, you soon begin to worry though when piles of paperwork find themselves resting on your table.

You carry seven different keychains on your bag. Each of them gave you one in hopes you would show it off, and when you put in on your bag they were ecstatic.

Lucifer got you a cute mini album keychain with your favorite song on it. Like the show off he is the songs title was engraved into it.

Of course you have the matching keychain with Mammon you both got from the human realm, however he wanted to get you one that was just from him. So he got you both heart keychains. Together they form a heart but when taken apart they’re two separate pieces. He hopes you don’t think it’s too cheesy.

A ruri chan keychain would surely suffice for you, however you both already have a ton of matching ones, so Levi decided to take a different approach. He spent awhile on it but he made you your very own keychain of Henry! Upon closer inspection the little goldfish keychain was so well crafted it surprised you. He almost cried when you said you loved it.

Satan knew exactly which keychain to pick out for you. It was a cute black cat with little red horns and a tail. When he presented it to you he huffed a bit when you said it looked like him. Still he was glad you liked it.

Asmo went all out and made a beaded keychain for you. It was pink and had little sliver hearts at the bottom. Did it take him long? Yes. But did you need to know that? No. He’s just glad you thought it was beautiful, but you should know that he’s still prettier than his creation.

Beel’s keychain was simple, but rather cute when he gave it to you. He gave you a little hamburger keychain he saw at one of his favorite restaurants. The second he saw it he thought of you. Since his favorite food is hamburgers he hopes that it’ll remind you of him. But he also hopes that you don’t try to eat it like he almost did.

Belphie will give you a keychain of his favorite constellation in the Devildom. It’s a little smaller than the others but he took the time to find it and picked it out just for you. He hopes you’ll enjoy looking at it just as much as he does. And a part of him can’t help the small smile that creeps onto his face when you recognize the constellation.

Once all keychains are on your bag you do become rather loud due to all the keychains jingling.

The brothers all keep little notes from you. Whether they be notes passed in class or even sticky notes of encouragement you left in their rooms.

Each brothers has their own place they keep notes from you.

Lucifer keeps your notes in his office in a locked drawer. He would rather die than admit it but when he’s exhausted he likes looking at them for a little pick me up.

Mammon leaves them in a tiny box under his bed. Because when he finds himself thinking about you he rereads them and smiles.

Levi usually gets sticky notes from you so they all hang on his wall over his gaming monitors. At times he forgets they’re there so he always get nice little words of encouragement when he looks up.

Satan keeps them all over his room, he sometimes even uses them as bookmarks if he really needs to. It’s messy yes but if you asked him where each one was he could definitely tell you.

Asmo keeps all your cute sticky notes on the border of the mirror on his large vanity. It makes him happy to see your sweet notes to him with little hearts as he gets ready in the morning.

Beel leaves your notes on his nightstand. They pile up but never get dirty. He takes extra care to make sure he doesn’t get crumbs or grease on them when he eats in his room.

Belphie leaves them in the attic. Often times when he’s tired he likes to go there to sleep so he likes to be greeted with the sticky notes you gave him as they hang all over the walls. Sometimes they’re not just notes they’re also little doodles of the stars, you and him, his brothers, or anything. His favorite is your stick figure drawing of you, him, and Beel.

The brothers let you draw on them. It doesn’t matter if you’re an artist or not, all the little doodles on their hands are something they find cute.

The only ones that have been called out for the doodles however have been Lucifer, Beel, and Mammon.

One afternoon while Lucifer was having tea with Diavolo in the council room he decided to take off his gloves. Due to the rare occasion Diavolo took a peek at his hand since something blue caught his eyes. After he pointed it out Lucifer immediately became embarrassed exclaiming that he didn’t draw on himself, you did. Diavolo finds his reaction quite funny and tells you about it later.

Beel was getting ready for fangol practice when one of his teammates brought up all the writing on his arm. He shrugged it off simply saying that you drew it. After practice though he was a bit disappointed his sweat made is disappear.

Lastly Mammon thew a hissy fit at his modeling gig because they wiped off all the ink you had drawn. Specifically the “i love you” you had written on his arm. They explained how it was better for the shoot without it on him which kinda pissed him off. However you found it cute when he told you so you drew on his arm again.

A day will not go by without all seven of them being in your room together for at least an hour.

The first ones to stop in would be Mammon and Levi exclaiming that there was a new series that was becoming popular in the human realm that all of you should watch. With that being said Mammon mentions the fact you all need snacks so he leaves to go get some.

As Levi is setting up the series Mammon comes back with a mountain of food and drinks. However behind that mountain is Beel asking if this was enough for everyone. At your response of “that’s plenty” he then leaves to go get his twin.

As Mammon sorts through the food on you table and Levi continues to get the series ready you set up your bed waiting for the inevitable.

A minute or two later Satan walks in claiming he has to tell you something. But when he sees the other two he stops and decides to take a seat next to you on your bed. Mammon then yells at him for being to close to you.

At the sound of yelling Asmo bursts through the door screaming at the two of them to shut up. But once he registers what’s going on he runs in and sits on your other side. Causing Mammon to yell at him to.

You roll your eyes, laughing as they all argue. However they then start to get loud and Levi ends up getting hit with a pillow in the process. Upset at this now, he threatens to summon Lotan which somehow summons Lucifer instead, causing him to yell at Levi.

You tell Lucifer to then join you all and after some bribery he finally does.

So then Asmo moves next to Satan and Lucifer then sits next to you on your bed.

Mammon then sits next to Lucifer right as the twins walk in. Beel sits on the floor and surrounds himself with food while Belphie uses everyone as his own personal pillow.

Sighing Lucifer covers the youngest with his coat.

Finally finished Levi starts the show and sits next to Asmo.

You laugh quietly to yourself as your demons spend the next few hours in your room.

Honestly what would they do without you?

#obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #demon brothers #obey me luficer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #omswd x reader #obey me mc

3K notes · View notes

creepy-friday · 1 year

Note

Can I make a request? Headcanons or a little Oneshot idk of Alastor x Wife!reader? Both being couple goals like Morticia and Gómez. Being evil together, like a good old classical couple 👉👈🥺

Alastor x Wife!Reader

I can see the reader symbolic animal being a crow/bat,and being able to manipulate/manifest them in both physical and shadow form

they would get along with Alastor's manifestations,sometimes he would pet them,have them around whenever you're not since he craves presence

both of you play spooky little tricks on the other demons such as making things levitate,opening the doors,flicking the lights,it's truly amusing seeing the undead fear the ..well..undead

you would give "soft nightmares" to someone then said someone would think they're prophetic and Alastor would further convince them they are just so that they make a deal with him to keep them safe from absolutely nothing

both of you give each other the side eye everytime something happens that both of you don't agree on

he has a shadow attached to you and inevitably the said shadow would try to woo you every chance he has

the "microphone" he has also has to be a little bit oblivious at times.

Both of you sit in complete silence,just enjoying each others presence while doing your own thing then suddenly his mic opens his little eye "what a lovely couple both of you are,what were the odds for both of you to be silent in bed!" Alastor chuckles and you let out an annoyed giggle "did you hear that,dear?" you ask him,putting your chore aside.

"Of course,just don't mind him,but for real now,what were the odds?" he continues to joke about it."No.That was the sound of a fucking divorce." you joke in return making him even more flustered and talkative,getting him all touchy feely with you

for real now,the word "divorce" makes him a top comedian,cook,lover and everything in between,even if it's in the context of a joke,he wouldn't want to lose you

if your personality tends to be more introverted/melancholic he would 100% take it as a challange and would do everything in his power to get you to do something completely out of your character

he never calls you by your name(except for serious occasions/spicy ones,if you know what I mean) but rather uses pet names such as "Honey";"Dear";"Darling"; "Cara mia"

uses every opportunity to dance with you whenever a good song is playing

you don't have to be shy with him,his mischievous personality will totally use it to his benefit and tease the living hell out of you

I have this lil' headcanon that if the both of you are listening in to a conversation and if you can't hear,he would manifest some old headphones to hear better "here you go,darling"

"Husk is adorable" you sing,trying to pet the man in question "Well,I say he looks completely utterly miserable!Of course you find him adorable!" Alastor laughs,bringing his one sided friend closer to your reach

asks your opinion on every important decision he has to make even if he is already sure about what to do.If you have a different view on it he will definitely reconsider

Angel Dust would be all sighs,puffs and "get a room" just because the two of you do simple romantic gestures such as Alastor's gentlemanly behaviour of kissing your hand and such

Vaggie's tolerance of Alastor drops to 0,but she adores enjoys your presence.She wishes both of you would have more time together but your husband always needs to barge in and annoy the living hell out of her.Alastor doesn't really likes her so he wouldn't want you around her that much

dark humour that leaves everyone poker face except the two of you

he doesn't except much from you tbh,just the same old love to be reciprocated

#Alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel headcanons #alastor x reader #alastor #Alastor #radio demon #radio demon x reader #Alastor headcanons #alastor headcanons #y/n #wife!reader

3K notes · View notes

sabersandsnipers · 7 months

Text

A Stray on the Road

Author’s Note: I work with a lot of the pediatric population as a nurse, so I thought about what Halsin and Astarion’s reactions would be to me having to protect and take care of every kid I find lol

The day was grueling. The sticky sensation of blood covers every inch of your skin. Aches and pains rattle your bones, and the road seems endless as your group searches for a good place to set up camp. The only thought keeping you going is that of curling up between Astarion and Halsin later.

“Gods, this is hell,” Karlach complains.

Wyll responds with some snide comment, but you’re only half listening, because you’re approaching a rather violent scene. Wagons are tipped over, and bodies litter the road. You slow as you approach, noticing a small figure sitting by a pair of bodies.

Your gaze sharpens, and you see it’s a young girl. No older than 5. Tears stream down her cheeks as she sits by a pair of dead bodies. Your heart sinks as you realize it’s probably her parents.

“Hang back, guys,” you say. You fear the approach of such a large group will frighten her. Attempting to wipe the blood off your face, you walk up to the girl.

Her clothes are tattered, and you notice she has a few cuts lining her arms and legs. You crouch next to her.

“Hey,” you say softly.

Big beautiful brown eyes meet yours. Something twists in your chest.

“What’s your name?” you ask.

She sniffles. “Eowyn.”

“Eowyn, do you have family nearby?”

She shakes her head. “No. And I don’t know where I am.”

Her voice trembles, and your heart breaks for her. You look back to your companions. Most won’t mind her staying with them, except for Astarion, who will be annoyed by the young presence.Your friends look back at you expectantly, wondering what your next move is.

“Would you like to stay with me and my friends for the night?” you ask her.

She looks to the group behind you, and you half expect her to run away in fear with how harsh they look.

But her expression doesn’t change, she simply nods her head.

“Do you think you can walk?” you ask her.

She shakes her head.

You smile at her. “That’s okay. Halsin?”

The elf approaches. Eowyn stares up at him, eyes wide.

“Is it alright if my friend carries you?” you ask her.

She nods. “He’s so tall.” Her eyes are filled with wonder.

“He is,” you say with a chuckle. You look to Halsin and he nods. He reaches down and picks up the child, placing her on his shoulder.

“Hold on, child,” he says. There’s a slight smile on her face, but then darkness fills her eyes again.

Your group ventures forth once more. The sun is beginning to set, casting shadows along the road. But you can’t help but admire the beautiful colors streaking across the sky.

Astarion falls into step beside you. “Picked up another stray, I see.”

You nudge your shoulder against him. “You were a stray once too.”

He gives a half smile. “I’m just worried you’re going to burden yourself with her safety.”

You let out a sigh, knowing he wouldn’t like her presence. “She has no one, Astarion.”

He doesn’t say anymore, but you can feel the tenseness between you two. Your relationship is still being navigated. But even with your difference in values, you couldn’t stop yourselves from being drawn to each other.

A giggle pulls you from your thoughts. You look back to see Eowyn playing with Halsin’s braids. He’s grinning back at her, thoroughly enjoying her laughs. The sight sparks a warmth within you, and you can’t stop the smile from growing on your lips.

“Ugh.” Astarion comments. “Does he always have to be so…Halsin?”

You shoot him a half hearted glare. Despite him being agreeable to Halsin joining your relationship, he always seems taken aback by his general goodness and willingness to help others.

Your trek continues, Astarion allowing your hands to brush ever so slightly as you walk the dusty road.

The fire crackles as Karlach throws more wood onto the flames. A warm stew has been shared amongst your group, Eowyn getting a healthy portion. Conversations scatter around, commenting on the latest tavern you stopped at, or how a fight went along the way.

You sit on a log between Eowyn and Halsin, but Astarion sits over by his tent. He’s reading one of his books, sipping on some wine.

Every time you glance to Eowyn, you notice her watching Astarion. Her gaze is curious, and she seems completely enthralled with him. Not that you can blame her. You’re completely enthralled as well.

“He’s so beautiful,” she suddenly comments. You smile at her and then look at your love.

“Isn’t he?” you respond. “He’s awfully nice too, to the people he likes.”

“I saw you kissing earlier. Are you married?” she asks.

You laugh. “No, but I do love him very much.”

Confusion crosses her face, as if she can’t comprehend how you can be in love but not married. She takes another bite of her stew. Her eyes flicker back to Astarion.

A few minutes later she taps you on the shoulder. You turn away from your conversation with Halsin as she leans over to you.

“Do you think he would read me a bedtime story?” she asks in a whisper.

You grin, and glance at Astarion. Although he would most definitely deny her request, he can’t deny you.

“Yes. You should go over and ask. Tell him I sent you.”

Her expression brightens. She gets right up and makes her way over to Astarion, who doesn’t acknowledge her until she’s standing right in front of him. He finally looks up, his expression mildly annoyed. Eowyn talks for a few moments and then he shoots a glare in your direction.

You raise an eyebrow at him, daring him to say no. He bites the inside of his lip. The seconds pass as you wait for his response.

Finally, his body relaxes and he nods his head. Eowyn sits down on the cushion next to him, snuggling up right close to him. Although Astarion tenses a bit, he doesn’t push her away. You watch them for a bit, admiring how adorable they look together.

A pair of hands find their way to your shoulders.

A familiar voice whispers in your ear. “I’m going to bathe in the river. Would you like to join me?” Halsin asks. He places a hot kiss against your neck.

“Halsin, the day I say no to that question, I want you to push me off a cliff, because clearly I’ve gone mad,” you respond.

A breathy laugh caresses your skin. You give him your hand and the two of you make your way to the water.

When you return from your excursion with Halsin, skin still tingling, you’re astounded by the sight before you. Astarion and Eowyn still sit together, except Eowyn is sound asleep in his lap. Astarion looks down at her, his hand resting lightly on her hair. You can’t read his expression.

When you approach Astarion, you crouch down and place a kiss to his temple. He smiles at you, and it makes your heart flutter just like the first time.

“I can have Halsin take her to my tent,” you offer, brushing back a strand of his white curls.

He hesitates, looking down at Eowyn. “I think we’ll be okay. She looks so comfortable.”

She’s curled right up, her head resting on his chest. Her face looks so serene after all the horrors she’s experienced today.

“Okay. I’ll go spend the night with Halsin then. Just come get me if you need me,” you tell him.

“I think we’ll be okay, darling,” he replies.

You smile and kiss him goodnight. As you make your way to Halsin’s tent, you take one last look over your shoulder, and allow yourself a moment to admire the two of them. And it brings you great joy to know Astarion is finding just as much comfort as she is.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #halsin #halsin x reader x astarion #astarion x reader x halsin #halsin x reader #astarion x reader #astarion imagine #halsin imagine

1K notes · View notes

verysium · 5 months

Note

bllk characters and what you think would be their type or what they find attractive in a girl?🙈💗💌

i mean... 🤔 do u want the truthful answer or do u want the ideal answer? cus i don't think any of the bllk boys (maybe with the exception of otoya and aiku) would have a type, much less let it be limited to a girl. but assuming they actually have a life outside of football, here are some traits they would find attractive in a person:

isagi would like someone he can see as a role model. throughout his life, he often finds figures that inspire him (eg. noel noa, ego, even rin if you squint hard enough). he doesn't idolize them, but he does find a way to incorporate their strengths into his playing style and actions. if you have a character trait he highly values, he will like you, and it's generally pretty easy to get him to like you. (unless of course, you're a massive dick like kaiser.)

i find that he gets along best with kurona and hiori. this is because (1) they can read his intentions well, and (2) they are quiet and level-headed. obviously, this would also apply to the romantic side of his life. isagi admires people who are similar to him but still have their own quirks and idiosyncrasies. for example, you subtly support him from behind the scenes and bring him snacks after practice and pack his bento every morning. he appreciates small gestures of kindness.

isagi is also someone very hot-headed as evidenced by his potty mouth. he likes someone who can match his energy and passion but is still calm enough to prevent him from doing anything rash. i picture him running up to you after a game, and the adrenaline causes him to pick you up from out of the stands and twirl you around in his arms.

canonically, isagi is unpopular with girls. he literally returned from valentine's day empty-handed. he tries to be nice most times, but truthfully, nothing except football really interests him. so if you can skip the small talk and start drafting football plays with him, i think he would be attracted to you. like very attracted.

unrelated but he likes someone with a pretty laugh.

bachira needs someone motherly. i feel like he never really got to be a child because everyone around him was constantly putting him down for being the "weird" kid. that's why his current personality is undeniably childish at times. it's the only way he can express the inner child he had before he grew up too fast. i think he'd like people who take care of him in a parental manner, whether that's scolding him for doing something stupid, wiping his chin cus he's a messy eater, or teaching him english every day.

i feel bachira is one of the most extroverted characters in blue lock. he genuinely thrives off his interactions with others. and for that reason, i think he'd be attracted to introverts because they differ so greatly from him. (he'd probably adopt them too.)

bachira has the most creative insults, and that's partially why he gets along so well with isagi. he's not afraid to get out of his comfort zone, nor is he afraid of pushing others to do the same. if this boy can hallucinate whole monsters, he can sure as hell rip his opponents into pieces. i feel like he'd have such a stark duality around you. he'd be beating the crap out of the other team, but the moment he sees you, he's all sunshine and rainbows and bounding over to ask you about your day and overshare about his.

ADHD. that's it. that's the quote. if you're hyperactive, then he's hyperactive, and you'll both be rocking the same boat. most people would assume he needs a grounding presence in his life, but i think post u-20 arc bachira is actually mature enough to process his own issues. now he just needs someone to let loose and have a little fun with.

rin needs a therapist. end of story. this boy is a whole case study. i don't think he's even mentally stable enough to have a romantic relationship. but if he were to date someone, i'd imagine that person is somewhat similar to isagi (and no, this is not a ship.)

isagi has something rin definitively lacks, and that is his strong, dynamic sense of self. when rin fails, he takes it heart. all solutions are linear and logical to him. if he missed a goal, it was because he didn't train hard enough. if he couldn't beat sae, it was because he just wasn't good enough.

but isagi completely changes his mindset every time he loses. (there's a reason why he's surrounded by puzzle pieces all the time.) analyzing is second nature to him. every failure is a catalyst for self-improvement, and he constantly breaks himself down in order to adapt and rebuild. rin needs someone like that in his life, someone who can teach him to be unafraid of change and embrace it instead.

rin also isn't immune to external influences. obviously, he is still learning to play football for himself. looking at the pxg version of him, he has had a significant change in mindset, but he still hasn't completely separated himself from this idea of "beating" someone in order to get to the top. according to his logic, if he surpasses both sae and isagi, he will finally be content. but the truth is, he won't be anywhere near content because his ego still isn't entirely his own. i think he would admire someone who refuses to let themselves be defined by others.

rin would also like someone who is patient because he clearly isn't. (boy was about to have a whole brain aneurysm when bachira threw that paper airplane at him.) honestly, you need to be both gentle and persistent with him. he hates it when people come on too strong, but he also finds his walls slowly crumbling when someone repeatedly goes out of their way to show that they care.

rin has a high level of emotional intelligence, as evidenced by sae's comments about his intuition. however, he can only work out a person's thought process about halfway before he starts to feel lost himself. for example, he can understand that sae dislikes losing, but he doesn't understand that it's innately tied to sae's self-worth and expectations as the eldest child/genius prodigy/role model. if he's going to romantically date anyone, then they need to be extremely skilled in the art of communication. otherwise, rin is going to easily misinterpret things.

finally, i think he'd like someone who knows how to comfort him. rin overthinks. like a lot. the cogs in his brain are constantly whirring. you need to lay him down on your lap and run your fingers through his hair and tell him that everything's going to be alright. (and it is going to be alright, because you're about to move both heaven and earth for him to make it stay that way.)

kaiser has no set type, but if he did, it would also be isagi (i'm sorry but yoichi is our harem princess for a reason.) kaiser oscillates between this superiority and inferiority complex. he even admits he was weak-hearted once.

any and all attraction is heightened for him because he gets obsessed easily. (like did you see his massive desktop displays of isagi? tell me that does not scream high-key yandere shit to you.)

however, more so than people, kaiser is fixated on ideals. he literally got a cheesy blue rose tattoo to remind himself that nothing is impossible, and he stands naked in front of his mirror every morning repeating the motto: "this is me." the self-esteem issues are glaringly obvious.

now, rather than completely shatter his entire worldview like isagi did, you need to be the one to gently (and i stress, gently) remind him that sometimes ideals aren't everything. kaiser is unpredictable, but the one thing that stays constant about him is the many masks he hides behind. everything is a role to him, and he takes center stage. but you need to convince him that none of this really matters. he doesn't need to bedazzle himself in tattoos and dye his hair and sport a mullet-rattail hybrid to be worthy of attention. sometimes his ugly bed head and dark circles are precisely the reason you love him.

second of all, you need to set firm boundaries (otherwise you'll end up like ness.) kaiser wants someone with a backbone, and he does not turn a blind eye to raw potential. victory is his end goal, and if you can bring him one step closer to that, he will stick to you. the only issue here is that you need to make sure he does not use you. and believe me, he will try. but if you draw a strong line between you two and stand your ground, he will start to see you in a new light. it can go both ways (love or hate), but either way you are someone important in his eyes.

lastly, i think he wants someone with a sense of humor. he's naturally cocky, and he needs someone to match his wit. ness already does that, but he doesn't give kaiser enough challenge. in my mind, i imagine kaiser trying to impress you with his german, but you give him a good run for his money when you already know how to speak it. things like that. he thinks it's hot when you can stand up to his level. but at the end of the day, your loyalty still lies with him, and you're not above/below him but rather the one standing beside him.

barou doesn't have a type. he is the type. you're lucky to have him.

otoya likes cute girls, even better when they have the standard fringe/bob cut look. he also lives for the height difference. teasing short girls by patting their heads is his signature move. he also likes it when girls wear lipgloss, like a sparkly candy pink shade, maybe even a spritz of perfume. he's also type to make fun of the little chubby pooch you get when you eat too much. he thinks it's adorable. personality-wise, it doesn't matter. he's going to cheat anyways. jk but on a more serious note, the person he's likely going to stay with forever is someone who can forgive his weaknesses and actually make the effort to understand him. instead of writing him off as an immature two-timer, he'd appreciate people who can actually hear him out. obviously, it doesn't excuse any of his actions, but it lets him know that you do indeed care.

aiku says he likes anyone who looks easy to break up with, but it's actually the opposite. he tends to go for older women who end up slapping him in the face. he's a womanizer, but he actually has a significant amount of character depth. generally, he's someone who goes with the flow, and nothing really upsets him. but to actually get to know him and his insecurities, you'd have to be someone really important to him. i think aiku is the type to be a serial dater before he finds someone he'll actually stick to. he's afraid of commitment, and it's for good reason. the authority figures in his life have failed him enough times to be considered unreliable. please be kind to him because the childhood trauma was not. i smell lots of emotional baggage here.

nagi likes the flame type because it has few weaknesses and helped him clear three levels in digimon. oh wait, you mean his ideal type? yeah, he does not know what that is, and he's too lazy to think of one. currently he's in the middle of fighting a custody battle for choki, and he's losing to a certain purple-haired freak. please come back later.

reo likes wine aunties lol. it's canon that he prefers older women, but i think it's just because they tend to know what they want. he likes people who have a set goal and are constantly working towards it. he himself diverts all his time and resources into football once he discovers that it is his calling.

i think he's the type to be extremely popular but not actually have any deep, long-lasting connections with any of his friends. he knows a lot of people, but he doesn't know them well. that's also why he gets so attached to nagi because nagi is the first person to really know him. in a way, i think that'd translate over to the people he loves as well. he likes people who don't beat around the bush. if they like him for who he is, they'll say it outright. he doesn't need to do any digging or engage in any form of the pretentious formalities he despises.

reo is rich, which is both a blessing and a curse. on one hand, he's all set for life, but on the other hand, it unfortunately makes many of his relationships conditional. he said it himself that people are often drawn to him because of his money. so i think he'd also like someone who isn't materialistic. he values honesty and genuine connection above all, so if you're ready to give him love regardless of his status, he'd sincerely love you too.

chigiri likes tomboys or any person with masculine characteristics. he's constantly getting mistaken for a girl at blue lock, so i think it'd just be funny to pair him up with someone who also shares the same androgynous plight. you two would bond over breaking gender norms.

he's a capricorn, and even if astrology is a pseudoscience, i still feel like the archetype fits him well. he refuses to let other people see him cry. he values his family a lot. he tends to be moody and intense at times. not to mention he is very goal-driven (excuse the pun.) based on that, i think he'd want someone calm and understanding. it's not that he needs someone else to work out his own problems for him. it's more so that he needs someone to remind him that he's still human sometimes. i feel like after his injury, he was sort of in this survival mode, constantly trying to prove himself and get back to the level he used to be at. but you need to remind him that he can relax once in a while. it's perfectly alright if he isn't as good as he used to be right now. progress comes at a different pace for everyone.

furthermore, chigiri tends to project a serious image most of the time, so i think it'd be nice if someone reminds him that he does have indeed an odd sense humor and his fair share of stupid moments, and that's totally okay too.

shidou likes anyone who doesn't like him, but this has to be done the right way. within blue lock, he's already sort of this outcast because no one understands his playing style (except maybe sae.) you need to show him that you value his eccentricities while also keeping him at an arm's length. he loves a challenge.

since he's someone unafraid to express himself, he likes to see that in another person. whether it's in your fashion sense, way of talking, body language, etc., he loves it when you act unapologetically yourself.

shidou is quite literally a dog kept on a leash, so you need to tug on that leash from time to time. he loves it when people attempt to tell him off and call him out for his bullshit. inhibition is a foreign concept to him, so he feels entertained when others try to teach it to him. he also thinks it's immensely sexy when you're angry at him. lord knows he is definitely going to slip that in mid-argument just so you can yell at him some more.

sae wouldn't even believe in the concept of a "type" in general because he thinks it's stupid to categorize people based on an ideal and fixed set of characteristics. (that's pretty rich coming from a guy who calls people who don't meet his standards lukewarm but we're just gonna ignore his hypocrisy.) either way, he has a non-traditional view of love and attraction.

i do think he likes people who are solid and reliable, and they can continuously yield quality results. he would also want someone who is as ambitious as him because i don't think he can realistically get along with someone who has no dreams or aspirations. it just doesn't fit well with his driven personality.

people who are empathetic and emotionally intuitive intrigue him since that's something he lacks. personally, i think he'd like someone who is mature (doesn't matter if they're older or younger.) if you can teach him something useful, he find you worthy of his time. and if you can read his feelings without him even telling you, he would consider you someone special.

sae needs someone who holds similar ideals to him but doesn't follow him blindly. (notice how he hated it when rin blindly relied on his assists when they were children.) he want someone who is independent because he is also highly independent. however, the difference is that they also actively make room in their life for other people, and that is something sae doesn't know how to do.

there's a point of growth somewhere in your relationship where you call out his mistakes and set him on the right path. sae struggles a lot with his definition of victory, and he finds it difficult to curb his greed. his ego is what sets him apart from everyone else, so failure is not an option in his books. unfortunately, this is also why he loses some of his original spark/motivation. you need to be someone who can tell him that failure is not a weakness, and sometimes the journey matters more than the ending.

also this poor boy needs someone to teach him social cues because i don’t really think he knows how to read the room. he’d probably unintentionally insult a chairman or investor, and you’ll be trailing after him with a sheepish smile as you bow and apologize for him. (i feel bad for his manager.)

823 notes · View notes

breadbrobin · 3 months

Text

anxiety calling

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[anxious!child of ares reader]

[established relationship]

summary: anxiety always hits at the worst time, but luke always knows just how to help

warnings: anxiety, panic attack, reader being overwhelmed.

word count: 640

(i need a luke.)

———————————————

so maybe you’d never been the most calm person in the world. and maybe you’d never really known how to “chill”. and maybe you’d been that uptight kid who was always put in charge because you never set a toe out of line—except for that one time you stabbed a kid in the arm with a pencil (he deserved it though, you did warn him). you’d never been this bad though.

you weren’t sure what did it.

you’d been at camp half-blood for just under a year now, so that wasn’t it. you had friends, you had respect, you had skills. that wasn’t it either.

it could have been the thrill of capture the flag? or maybe the way you felt like your heart was going to explode? or maybe it was your father, ares, finally claiming you?

a combination of all three was the likely trigger.

you were expecting happiness when you were claimed. cheers and pats on the back, maybe even a hug from your new siblings. you weren’t expecting to burst into a panic attack and run into the woods at top speed, feeling like your entire body was an over-tightened guitar string about to snap.

but, there you were: sobbing on the ground, trying to breathe and feeling like everything around you was falling apart, and you were falling with it.

you bet your dad regretted claiming you now.

you pressed your hands to your chest, trying, trying, trying. failing, failing, failing.

everything you did only made it worse.

you groaned in exasperation, digging the palms of your hands into your eyes, seeing colours dance in your vision.

you heard footsteps on the grass behind you. “y/n?”

your head snapped up at the sound of luke’s voice. of course he was the one to find you. he was always the one to find you.

he sat next to you on the ground. one of his hands rested just behind you on the ground, and open invitation to lean into him. you did.

instantly, his arms were around to and his hand was smoothing your hair. he didn’t care if you were strong or weak or anything in between. he just cared that you were okay.

“i feel like i’m dying,” you whispered pathetically. “it’s stupid. my chest hurts.”

“i know, babe,” he soothed. “i know how you feel. you’re gonna get through this, okay? just take your time.”

you nodded and tucked yourself closer to his side, as close as you could possibly be without crawling inside his shirt.

luke had this effect on you—this ability to make everything feel okay when the world was crashing down. maybe it was because he was your first friend at camp, your first kiss, your first love… regardless, he was like a swimming pool on a hot day, the gentle crashing of the waves at the beach, the feeling of going to your favourite class. hell, he was the feeling of watching your favourite movie for the nth time, knowing each line off by heart and singing along to the end-credits songs. that was luke castellan.

you didn’t know what you’d do without him.

as you finally, gradually, relaxed, he kissed your head gently.

“you okay?” he murmured.

you nodded, but neither of you pulled away. sometimes, you wanted to pause time, live in a moment forever and ever. this was one of those moments.

“thank you,” you whispered.

“you don’t have to thank me. but, next time your anxiety’s calling, tell me, okay? i want to help you.”

you nodded with a smile. “next time it calls, i’ll pass you the phone and you can yell at it.”

he nodded seriously. “i’ll scare it away. i’ll give anxiety anxiety.”

as you laughed, you really didn’t know what you’d do without him by your side.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo x reader #luke castellan x you #charlie bushnell

584 notes · View notes

kingofbodyrolls · 8 months

Text

Jungkook fic recs 2023

In honor of Jungkook’s birthday, I want to share my ultimate favorite Jungkook fanfictions, that I’ve read this year 💜I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell, so minors dni.❗

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post 💜And if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated 🙂

BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | Jul | Aug | Sep (💜)(knj) | Oct (pjm) | Nov (*) | Dec (ksj)(kth) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂.

⭐Two point Five: pt1, pt2, pt3 [series] by @bratkook // jjk x f.reader // handyman!jk, s2f2l // 🥵🥰

📝 Who would have thought booking a handyman from an app would lead to this. sure, you wish he’d mount you instead of just your television, but you could totally be friends. Right?

🗨️ This is also one of my all time favorites! 💎There is just something incredibly hot about handyman JK 🥵 It is so good, juicy, smutty and there’s comedy in it too! Please don’t be sleeping on this one.

⭐Caught Me by @jeongi // jjk x f.reader // roommate!au, e2l // 🥵😂

📝 You hate your temporary roommate, jungkook and it doesn’t help that he’s been catching you at the most inconvenient of times.

🗨️ This is a fucking MASTERPIECE 💖 I love the banter and comedy, how JK gets on readers nerves 😂 I love absolutely every fucking thing about this and don’t get me started on the smut 🔥🔥 🔥

⭐The Forgotten Spaces [completed series] by @oddinary4bts // jjk x reader // college!au, dancer!au + e2l // 🌩️🥵🥰

📝 You’ve been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

🗨️ This is truly a masterpiece! The writing is perfection and the characters have so much soul, dimension, hurt and love. It is exceptional 👏🏾♥️ you just have to read this gem 💎

⭐McD*ckin by @jinned // jjk x f.reader // slice of life, fast food worker!jk, customer!reader, s2l // 🥵😂

📝 “So, if I’m so predictable,” you tease, running your finger along his clothed chest, “what am I going to do next?”

🗨️ I’d like to order a McChicken please 🙋🏾‍♀️🥵💦 this was funny, and actually made me laugh like a freak at some points 🤣 also the second hand embarrassment 😳🙈 It really cheered me up. I really liked the ordering menu when reader arrived 🙈🤭 also the ending, which was unexpected for me, but I quite liked it because it wasn’t “super happy and lovey dovey” like most of the stories I read, but still open 😊

⭐The Wedding Planners by @gukyi // jjk x f.reader // e2l, wedding!au // 🥰🥵🌩️

📝 Jeon Jungkook is three things: cocky, terrible, and your worst enemy. Then your best friend Hoseok gets engaged to the love of his life, and suddenly Jeon Jungkook is four things: cocky, terrible, your worst enemy, and the man you will be spending the next seven months with in order to plan your best friend’s wedding. And then, as if your life couldn’t get any shittier, you make the poor decision of sleeping with him on the first day of the job.

⭐In the Dark by @jksangelic // jjk x pjm x f.reader // threesome, f2l, mxm // 🥵😂

📝 “I can’t get a signal on my phone, the car is dead, and I’m fairly certain we are out of matches.”

⭐Oh My God, They Were (Quarantined) Roommates 💯 by @ot7always // jjk x f.reader // college!au, roommates!au // 🥰🥵

📝 What do you do when you’re quarantined for months on end with Jeon Jungkook - S tier cuddler, workout robot, and thirst trap extraordinaire? Fuck him, you guess.

⭐Anpanman by @honeymoonjin // jjk x f.reader // bf2l // 🥵😂🥰

📝 Your best friend jungkook finally convinces you to seek therapy for your failing mental health. the only catch? the one therapist that’s within your price range is an alternative marriage counsellor, jung hoseok, and the only way jungkook managed to get you an appointment was by saying the two of you were married. will couples counselling actually be useful for your wellbeing, or will something that runs much deeper rise to the surface instead?

⭐The Boy with Galaxies in His Eyes by @oddinary4bts // jjk x reader // idol!au + fwb2l // 🌩️🥵🥰

📝 You had never thought the night sky could be found in someone’s eyes. That is, until you met Jeon Jungkook and his gravity pulled you in. Will he crush you with the galaxies in his eyes, or will you learn to explore his worlds and make them yours?

🗨️ It is a long one, but damn is it worth it! It will take you for the very best rollercoaster ride of your life. So if you haven’t read this yet, what are you honestly doing with your life?

Borahae and happy birthday Kookie 💜 🥳 🎂

455 notes · View notes

soobinsonly1bf · 3 months

Note

hello ! do you think you could write something for comfort sex from yeonjun? (its perfectly okay if not :)) ive just been having a really shit week and the yeonjun tag is so dry rn bc ive read everything 😞 also welcome to tumblr!! 💗💗

of course i can write it!! also, i hope you feel better already😭 if not, then i just hope this one-shot will make you feel better for at least a few minutes!! and oh god, I'M SO SO SORRY that it took me so long... i couldn't find any motivation to finish it😓

yeonjun + comfort sex

warnings: nsfw, afab!reader, softdom!yeonjun, sub!reader, fluff, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, soft sex, crying (while cumming), use of pet words (babe, baby, love), a little bit of angst implied at the end??

!!nsfw under the cut, minors dni!!

it was a hard day for you, so now you were just laying on your bed, cuddling to the pillow. suddenly you hear the front door opening and you can't help, but smile softly.

"hi, babe!" yeonjun greets loudly. "i'm back!" he says and after some minutes, he walks into the room with a smile. when he looks at you, his expression changes, now to a worried one. "hey, are you alright? you look tired as hell..." he says as he comes near the bed, gently sitting next to your legs.

"yeah, i don't feel really good today. it was a... really hard week. you know, the whole stress and- and everything." you admit, but still smile at him.

"is there something i can do for you? i can make a dinner or just tidy up or buy you something or cuddle. anything that would make you feel at least a little bit better." he says and takes your hand in his, gently stroking your hand with his thumb.

"wanna kiss..." you mumble suddenly, kinda embarrassed that it came out of your mouth without really thinking.

he chuckles. "yeah? you just want some kisses? come here, love..." he says and pulls you closer to him, placing your head on his lap. he starts kissing gently all over your face, except on the lips.

"yeonjun..." you whine and he immidiately knows what you mean, because he leaves a gentle peck on your lower lip, then another and another... it's still not enough tho. "i want a proper kiss." you say with a small pout.

"why are you so impatient today, huh?" he laughs softly, soon pressing his lips into yours, now slightly harder. you look at him with a disappointed look as he moves away.

"and since when it is a proper kiss? what are we, highschoolers?" you say, slightly frustrated.

"just say if you want a makeout session." he laughs and soon you're laying just like before he got home... but now with him on top of you. he's kissing you, now properly, more passionately, with more pressure. you still feel how soft, how careful he is with you, just like his lips could crush yours if he was too rough.

you can't help a giggle leaving your lips right into the kiss and he slowly moves away, looking at you with his head tilted to the side. "what?" he asks, confused.

"nothing... you're just too sweet." you giggle again and pull him into another kiss. you just love it, his lips gently caressing yours. it's all full of love, warming your heart and making your worries disappear.

soon it all became more heated, more desperate to just feel each other, to show your love. he was leaving soft kisses along your jaw, slowly getting closer to your neck and kissing all over it too. you couldn't find a spot where he didn't left a peck...

"still feeling bad?" he chuckles, looking you in the eyes. you really can see how he looks at you, how much his gaze says. how much he truly loves you and cares about you.

"just a little bit." you say, now just kinda curious of what he's gonna do.

"i think i know exactly how to make you feel good... if you want?" he asks, licking his lips. oh you know exactly what that means.

"you're seriously asking?" you chuckle and you don't even know when and how he got in between your thighs, your pajama pants already on the floor...

"gonna make you feel so good, baby... stay still for me." he says and soon you feel him licking throughout the entire length of your cunt. you gasp at the sudden friction and he immidiately looks up at you, not moving his face away. "alright?" he asks and you simply nod.

he starts his work again, first slowly and gently, just licking your clit, kissing it too from time to time. oh he definitely has fun... soon his lips and tongue start moving faster, slightly harder against your pussy.

his fingers slowly make their way to you too, spreading your folds. he's lapping at your entrance, his tongue trying to get inside, but in reality just teasing you, making you desperate to feel full, to finally have his cock inside.

you clench around nothing, whining quietly. "please..." you whimper and you don't have to tell him twice. he slips two of his fingers at once inside of your warm pussy, already so wet for him.

it takes just a few thrust of his long fingers and a few more licks on your clit, and you're already feeling how close you are. "fuck, baby- so so close..." you mumble and soon you're clenching around nothing again, cumming hardly on his fingers that haven't stopped going in and out of you through your orgasm.

"so good for me... god, you're so beautiful like this, you know that?" he slips his fingers out of you and to your surprise – stands up. you relax again as you see him taking the condoms from the night stand, pulling his pants and boxers off in one go and exposing his already hard dick... so hard just from eating you out.

he pulls the condom on his cock, stroking it a few times. "you're wet enough, aren't you?" he says teasingly, but also genuinely asking.

"yeah, it's alright, just- just please, put it in." you say quickly, already raising your legs and getting in his favorite position. your wet cunt on the display just for him, ready to take his cock... god, the things you do to him.

he doesn't hesitate, just slowly slips his dick inside of you. you realized just now how much you needed this, your love stretching you out oh so prefectly. "i love you so much..." he says suddenly and makes the first thrust.

soon you're both just moaning your names and "i love you"s constantly. his hands holding your thighs, thrusting in a steady, slow rhythm. there's no need to rush things, the only thing important to the both of you is to make each other feel good and loved.

"i'm gonna cum soon..." he admits, keep on looking you in the eyes. he just loves you so much, it really shows with everything he does and says. it's not fucking, it's just making love for the both of you. it makes your heart melt when you see how lovingly he stares at you, taking your every expression, every little grimace.

"it's alright, i'm already close too." you say with a soft smile. you pull him closer to you, now his head in the crook of your neck. he leaves small kisses on your neck and shoulder, showering you with even more love.

you feel your orgasm hitting you once again.. but this time tears starts flowing down your cheeks. you're confused, but not wanting to worry him, you just ignore it, focusing on your release.

"fuck, love, i'm- oh fuck..." he moans, filling up the condom. he thrust a few more times and slip out of your literally drenched pussy. he takes his head away from your neck, looking at you. his expression immidiately changes when he sees your tears. "oh god, are you okay? did i do something wrong? did i hurt you? shit, i'm so so sorry..." he starts panicking, but you shut him up with a kiss.

"hey, it's okay, you didn't do anything, don't worry... i just- i noticed that sometimes it is like this." you sigh, taking him by his cheeks and pulling him into a kiss again.

"don't scare me like that ever again..." he says, planting a kiss on your cheek.

—————

a/n: okay guys funfact!! if someone doesn't know: if you're crying while orgasming and it seems like there's no reason, it might be because you feel sad, lonely, unloved or because of some trauma.

#txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt soft hours #txt soft thoughts #yeonjun hard hours #yeonjun hard thoughts #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x male reader #yeonjun x you #yeonjun smut #txt smut #em's inbox!!

240 notes · View notes

falling-star-cygnus · 2 months

Text

somebody reblogged my appleradio post and tagged it as "not a ship" ...

anyway, budding qpr Lucifer and Alastor because i love them :D Duckie Deer pt.1 {pt.2}

{Lucifer is hunched over his new desk in Charlie's hotel, his grin bordering on maniacal as he puts the finishing touches on his newest rubber duck. In a flourish, he holds the little thing high- or as high as he can feasibly reach anyway- in the air}

"Now presenting..."

{The King of Hell pauses for dramatic effect, despite not actually having any audience except the judgmental stares of his scattered ducks}

"The Wendigo Peace-Offering Red Radio Rubber Duck! ...That switches hands!"

{Lucifer grins a bit more genuinely as the little thing teleports from one hand to the other, twisting into the shadows between his fingers and out to his palm. The more tolerable version of it's intended recipient, he thinks}

{For the sake of Charlie, he had begrudgingly decided to try and befriend the agitating Radio Demon. After all, if they were going to be sharing the space here for the foreseeable future it only made sense for them to get along, right? Or at the very least, try to tolerate each other}

{And what better way to do that then with a rubber duck?}

"Heh heh heh..."

{The king chucks the duck at the door}

"Who am I kidding, nobody wants a rubber duck look-a-like. That's weird, it's a weird gift!"

{As Lucifer rants, he fails to notice the rubber contraption nailing the object of his ire in the forehead. It bounces with a squeak into red tipped hands}

"I'd argue talking to yourself is weirder, your highness."

{That familiar mocking drawl and static covering, the sarcasm on his title, it causes the king to whirl around. Alastor is indeed standing in front of his door, pinching the horn of the duck between his claws with a raised eyebrow}

"Alastor! Just the annoy- uh- just the demon I wanted to see. At this exact moment. ...How much of that did you hear?"

{Smooth. Totally nailed that.}

{One of the hair tufts upon Alastor's head twitches in his direction, confirming Lucifer's suspicion that they were, in fact, ears. It's embarrassing how much effort it takes to stifle the coo that wants to erupt from him at the subconscious movement}

{He has a feeling the Radio Demon wouldn't take kindly to it}

"Hm... Is there any particular reason for this... look-a-like, as you called it? I can't imagine anyone in either of circles would appreciate a duck of my visage."

{Oh good. So just the last part, then. He could still salvage this}

"It's for you!"

{…Damnit.}

{Lucifer sounded too eager. Waaay too eager, actually, if Alastor's steadily raising eyebrow was anything to go by. The king clears his throat}

"Ahem. Uh- it's for you, actually. A peace offering! Since we're going to be around each a lot more often, I figured- well, we might as well try to get along- right? For Charlie's sake. Not- not because you're tolerable. Or because I like you. Heh. No."

{The deer demon blinks slowly, raising the rubber duck up to his eye by it's horn. His perpetual smile- seriously, is that thing stitched on or something? -looks painfully strained.}

"Is that so?"

{His voice is less staticky then usual, which encourages the King to keep going. Lucifer nearly lunges forward, grabbing Alastor's hands and adjusting the duck to rest in one of the Radio Demon's palms}

{He feels a little bad for the flinch and hitch if static that comes with it, but he ignores it for Alastor's sake. He'd like a comment about that even less then a comment about his adorable ears}

"What are you do-" "It switches hands!"

{Alastor quiets at that, his glare softening just slightly around the edges with a blink. Again, Lucifer takes the small allowance and runs with it. He uses his thumbs to push against the joint of Alastor's fingers, furthering flattening his palms; an awkward laugh spills from him}

"Hah- Give it a try! Just- think about it switching and-"

{The duck slinks into Alastor's other palm before the king can finish his sentence. It goes back and forth a few times, filling the deer's eyes with a sense of unguarded wonder that has Lucifer's breath hitching}

{It's gone as soon as Alastor remembers his company}

{The Radio Demon pulls his hands away from Lucifer's, keeping the duck tucked securely in his hand. The king tries not to mourn the loss, both of his surprisingly warm fingers and of the glimpse into his head Lucifer was so graciously privy to today}

{Baby steps, he reminds himself. Something dangerously hopeful stirs in his chest}

"I see..."

{Alastor looks, on some level, like he's lost his footing. He came in here expecting to trade insults like usual, no doubt, especially after getting bonked with a rubber duck of all things upon entering}

{And instead he's left cradling a gift made in his image}

"Well! It'd certainly be rude to refuse such a thoughtful gift from his majesty. Even if it's a silly one."

{It's a feeble attempt at regaining control at best, they both know it. Lucifer sticks his hand out with a flat expression.}

"If you don't like it, give it back."

{Alastor's smile tightens, just like his grip on his rubber duck}

"Now, now, I just said it'd be rude to refuse. Surely your manner aren't lowering themselves to your height?"

{And just like that, normalcy is restored as Lucifer sputters at the jab. The king stomps forward, maybe childishly but no one who matters is around to judge him-}

"What did you even come up here for? If I recall, your 'radio tower' is on the other side of the other side of the-"

{The deer demon had stepped on a wild rubber duck in his subtle attempt to keep distance between them and with a burst of static, Alastor had begun to fall backwards}

{Lucifer acts on instinct and summons his cane,- he's pushed his luck with touch already today- bracing it behind the wendigo's back.}

{It leaves the two in an... awkward situation to say the least. Alastor's long legs pulled out from under him and his lanky torso held up purely by the thin rod of his staff.}

{It leaves Lucifer looking down for once to make eye contact}

"...who's the short one now?"

{Alastor melts into shadows, still holding the rubber duckie look-a-like in one hand as he reappears behind the king. He can feel the radio demon's hand on his collar preventing him from falling flat on his face.}

"Still you, my friend."

{...friend. Lucifer could get used to that.}

#i just think they're neat #if anyone likes this i'll make a part 2 #appleradio #radioapple #duckiedeer #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel 2024 #lucifer's rubber ducks #alastor the radio demon #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer

203 notes · View notes

abibliophobiaa · 9 months

Text

Beyond — s.h. x f!reader

Chapter Eight: You’re the Best Part

summary: you head to vail for thanksgiving and things maybe don’t quite go as planned.

warnings: sick mention, r and steve; reminder that r does have a family for the sake of the fake marriage plot; mother has passed, parent loss talk.

modern day! rich! fake husband! steve harrington x afab! reader.

masterlist

——

Your plans to happily return the favor for Steve when he gets home don’t quite pan out the way you want them to.

Why?

Well, it seems the world has its own plans. And those plans apparently don’t involve getting your mouth on the man and learning what your name sounds like coming from his lips while he’s falling apart for you.

What’s the saying again? You make plans, and the big guy upstairs laughs? Yeah—that one.

It’s around three when Steve appears at the entryway to the penthouse. Pale in the face, coughing up a storm, sweat lining his brow. He’s out of it; a simple, cursory glance tells you that much. That and the fact when Charlie rushes over to greet him, Steve barely brushes his hand over the puppy’s head, and instead seeks out the comfort of you.

His hulking form stops at the edge of the couch, shoes kicked haphazardly onto the floor as he lowers himself down. Rests his head in your lap and groans his defeat, ringed hand curling around the span of your thigh, hugging you closer. Were this any other day in the exciting newness of your relationship, you would sigh and dreamily run your fingers through his hair. But as your fingers brush along his brow, you find he’s hot there.

Burning hot. Feverish in a way that has you tugging at his shoulder until he can look up at you. Dark circles shadow his under eyes. His skin seems paler than usual, too. Exhaling, you reach over and cup his cheek, thumb trailing over the curve of his jaw. Smile down at him as he leans into the touch, eyes closing. The same hand then turns over and presses against his forehead and confirms that, yes, Steve is definitely sick. Unfortunately enough, right before the holiday, too.

“I’m calling your doctor—”

“No, no, no,” Steve groans, turning his head into your stomach, where he ends up coughing into your hoodie, apologizing for doing so. “I just want to sleep.”

“After I call the doctor,” you tell him, fingers carding through his hair. “You’re burning up, Steve. I knew you felt warm this morning.”

“Please,” he mumbles, “no doctor.”

——

Dr. Murray Bauman is an…interesting man, to say the least. When you call, after effectively getting Steve to lay down in bed, he sounds like he’s in the middle of a war zone. And you wonder briefly if you can hear angry voices in the distance.

He asks you a multitude of questions, the first being who the hell you are calling for Steve Harrington, but when you tell him you’re his wife, he only awkwardly laughs, stating he didn’t know Steve had finally settled down, before regaling you a story about Steve from when he’d been a younger boy.

“He’ll be here in a half hour, he said,” you tell Steve, before reaching for his phone and holding it in front of his face. It unlocks and you immediately search for Hailey’s number in his contacts. You hadn’t met her yet. Well, except for the brief greeting at your wedding. But you’d heard enough to know she’s kind and your husband couldn’t do half of what he does without her. She picks up on the first ring and greets you. “Hello, Hailey?”

“This is her,” she says. A hint of uncertainty creeps down the line. “May I ask who’s calling?”

“Mrs. Harrington—”

Steve, who suddenly realizes what you’re doing, reaches out to grab at your hand dangling limply at your side. Tries to tug you closer, but you raise a hand in warning. “Wait, wait, wait—”

“Mrs. Harrington! It’s been a while. Is everything okay?”

“Actually,” you say, rubbing at Steve’s shoulder, grinning to yourself as he huffs a bit but otherwise leans into your affection, “I’m calling because Steve’s going to need to cancel the rest of his meetings for today. Maybe the next couple of days, actually.”

“I told him he sounded like shit.” She pauses, chuckling nervously. “Sorry—didn’t mean to say that. He just sounded terrible, so I suggested he go home early. Thank you for letting me know.”

“No problem.” You wait a moment and then, “Thanks for the flowers, by the way. Steve mentioned you had them sent.”

“Oh, no. That was all Mr. Harrington,” she says, and your chest flutters with the notion of her words. “I just helped pick them out. Okay—so I’ve gone ahead and canceled all his meetings through the holiday and the week after.”

“You’re wonderful, Hailey. Thank you! And I hope you enjoy the holiday,” you say truthfully, settling down onto the bed beside Steve, rubbing his back through another lovely coughing fit. “We’ll talk soon.”

The line goes dead. You place the phone down onto the bedside table beside your husband and help slide his glasses off of his face for good measure. As his eyes meet yours, you want to lean down and wrap your arms around him. He looks younger than his years, more boyish somehow, the tiredness in his eyes alluding to just how sick he actually is. You hope Dr. Bauman hurries, if only so he can get some much needed rest.

“Canceled my meetings, huh?” He asks between the rumbly heaves of his chest.

“Think of it as an extended vacation.”

“Forced,” Steve emphasizes, rolling over so you can allow him into the circle of your arms. His head rests on your chest, the blankets you draped over him high up on his shoulders. “You shouldn’t even be in here; you’re going to get sick.”

“Pretty sure what we did earlier will get me sick anyway. That and the fact I’ve shared a bed with you for a bit now.” Your fingers card through his hair, your other palm rubbing up and down the achy muscles of his back. “Plus, what better way to test our vows? In sickness and in health, right?”

You step out of the room when Dr. Bauman arrives and immediately starts taking your husband’s vitals, wanting to give him a little privacy. Charlie bounds over to you in the kitchen as you search for something to throw together for dinner. You hadn’t really planned on eating home with Thanksgiving being so close, and the two of you about to spend a few days at Mrs. Harrington’s home. But now that you stare at an empty fridge, you realize maybe a little forethought might have saved you from the bare shelves you’re greeted with upon opening.

Pushing it shut, you pluck your phone from your pocket, scrolling through a list of nearby restaurants when you hear your name being called from down the hall. Dr. Bauman is tossing his stethoscope and other equipment into a black bag as you knock on the doorframe, his eyes tipping up to greet yours.

“It’s the flu,” he says, tapping away at an iPad resting on his forearm. “I already sent his prescription out to be filled. Lots of rest. No work. Lots of fluids. Limited shenanigans…of the, uh, newlywed kind. Maybe a warm shower to clear up some of the shit that’s rattling around in your chest.”

Steve rolls his eyes and Murray claps him on the shoulder. You definitely don’t understand their relationship. “I also ordered you a script for a preemptive antiviral,” Murray says to you, hoisting his bag up and over his shoulder. “You know my number, obviously. I’ll be around should you need me.”

“But you highly suggest I don’t,” Steve grouses from the bed.

“You get it, kid,” the older man says, petting Charlie as he bounces into the bedroom, wanting to see what all the fuss is about. “You’ll get a text when your prescriptions are ready. But other than that, I think you’re all good to go. Take care.”

Just as quickly as the man arrives, he’s gone, leaving you alone with your husband once more. “Told you that you needed to slow down,” you tell him, climbing back into bed and resuming your prior position. Steve’s head against your chest, his arms looped around your waist, wanting to simply be close to another person when every inch of him aches with fever. “Want me to make you anything? Tea? Soup. Well…we don’t really have food. I didn’t get groceries because of Thanksgiving.”

“Just wanna lay here,” he grumbles against your sweater, “…but I wouldn’t mind soup later.”

“Then I’ll order you some, handsome.” You chuckle, fingers running through his hair, listening to his sighing breath as he edges closer and closer to sleep. “Definitely not how I pictured our afternoon.”

“Rain check?” he asks, and you know then he’s really sick, as he spent the earlier half of the afternoon texting you about how he couldn’t wait to get home and resume what you both started in your kitchen.

“I’m holding you to it, Harrington,” you laugh, rubbing at the right muscles at the base of his spine. Hot breath spills from his lips, warming you through the material of your shirt. “Get some rest. I’ll be right here.”

He doesn’t even argue.

An hour later, you’re in the middle of watching some silly dating show on Netflix when your little sister, Caroline, tries to FaceTime. Steve’s still sprawling out against your chest, but rises up onto his elbows and tells you to pick it up. To which you question if he’s sure. A moment later, he shifts so his back is against the headboard of the bed and hits the answer call button, watching the younger girl’s face light up on the other line.

“Hey, sissy,” she says brightly, then peers further at the screen and sees Steve there. “And brother-in-law.”

“Hey!” You smile warmly.

“Are you two sleeping?”

“No, no,” you reassure her. “Steve’s got the flu, so we’re laying low for the day. What are you up to?”

“Just sitting around,” she says, nearly dropping her phone as she maneuvers around Gram’s kitchen. “Dad’s with Gram. You know how it is.”

“How’s he doing?” You frown, biting at your bottom lip. Doesn’t matter how long Mom has been gone, the holidays are always hard on him. “Do you need me to come home?”

“No. No.” She tugs her hair over her shoulder, strings of her hoodie curled around her fingertips. She’s so cute and you miss her so much that you wish you could smack kisses to both her cheeks. “We’re okay. Eddie stopped by yesterday with Uncle Wayne. And then I just realized how much I missed you.”

“I miss you too, sweetie,” you sigh, breaking off into a watery laugh. Steve reaches over across your lap and curls your palm in his. “But I’ll see you next month, right? Gonna bring this guy with me too. Hope that’s okay?”

“Mmmm,” she considers, head tilting to the side. “Not sure about him yet.”

Steve points a thumb at himself, earning a laugh from your little sister. “Guess I’ll have to return the gifts I got for my little sister.”

“You got me gifts?”

He shrugs. “Depends. Am I invited?”

“Fine. Fine,” she giggles airily, beaming so bright your own cheeks hurt. “How’s Charlie?”

Charlie, at the mere mention of his name, hops up onto the bed. Despite the fact he knows he’s not supposed to. You both haven’t really made it a habit of letting him sleep with you two; especially not when you’re still getting used to using your own bedroom as storage space for your clothes and things, and sharing his.

Referring to it as yours.

As of late, you’ve started placing your things in Steve’s bathroom. In one of his drawers. A robe in his closet. Slippers near his bedside. Your books on his bedside table. Neither of you had said anything about it. It just felt like the natural progression of things.

“Hi, Charlie!” Caroline enthuses, earning a loud yip from the puppy. Steve’s hand rubs over his floppy head, drawing your gaze to his sleep-addled features. “Hey, sissy?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I come visit soon?”

You glance at Steve in question, who merely says, “It’s your home.”

At that, you want so badly to lean over and kiss him. To thank him silently, to reveal those feelings that keep growing stronger for him every day through touch. In the only tangible way you know how exactly to express the inner workings of your heart.

“Any time, sweetie. Tell me when and I’ll book you a flight to come visit, okay?”

Her smile grows wider, and you can’t help but think about how she looks just like your mother. How your little sister is growing so fast. Things are changing. In your life, your career, your marriage, your family.

“Are you okay?” Caroline asks, brows furrowing high on her forehead.

“You’re just so beautiful,” you tell her honestly, sniffling, “you look just like Mom.”

“Nooo don’t do the water works. I’m going to vom—”

“You’re just—”

“I love you,” she says, shifting onto her elbows at the kitchen table she’s sitting at.

And she never says that. Always so buried in her phone. Making her TikTok videos. Texting her friends. Scrolling social media sites. Your heart soars with her words. Chest aches and burns with the feelings that rise up because of them.

“I love you too.”

The three of you spend a good chunk of the afternoon simply talking. Asking Caroline questions about school, you and Steve about work and your studies. Caroline even goes so far as to ask Steve ice breaker questions and riddles, and he’s terrible at them, feigning that it’s his sickness making it hard for him to answer any correctly.

After a while, your father’s tired face appears in the phone camera, alerting you he’s just spent the better part of the afternoon tending to cooking dinner. Gram is overjoyed not only to see you, but gawks over the fact that, even while sick, your husband is handsome as ever.

Steve leans into you bashfully at that, and you tousle the strands of his hair, and Gram thinks because she’s older she can casually blurt out, “The look he’s giving you right now is the same look your grandfather gave me the night we ended up—”

“You know what? I need to go pick up Steve’s medicine from the pharmacy and probably go and grab us some dinner,” you tell them, shoulder bumping into Steve’s, “I love you all so much. We’ll see you soon!”

It’s a chorus of goodbyes. A barrage of I love yous. A plethora of see you soons. Steve glows with the onslaught of affection. Tops of his cheeks stain bright under their well wishes, his lips tugging into a broad smile. The phone screen goes black and you toss it onto the bedside table, shifting onto your side beside Steve.

“They’re pretty great.”

“They’re…” A lot. Overbearing. Ridiculous (Gram mostly). But you catch the hopefulness on his face. Picture your husband, younger in age, alone in a crowded room wanting, searching, vying for someone to notice him. “They’re your family too now, you know?”

He opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is an endless coughing fit. His mouth presses into his elbow, your fingers running soothing lines up and down his bicep, waiting until it passes to clamber out of the bed and snatch your phone from the bedside table.

“I’m going to run to the pharmacy. You should try and get in the shower like Dr. Murray suggested.”

“I might need your help for that.”

Heat curls low in your belly. “I’m going to blame the mucus in your head for that one, lover boy. Get in the shower, I’ll run out quickly, and then we can spend the rest of the afternoon relaxing. Because those were the doctor’s orders. No work.”

“My whole body hurts,” he grumbles, leaning into your frame as you rush around to his side of the bed and help him along the way to the master bathroom. “I couldn’t work even if I wanted to.”

Steve watches from the edge of the bathtub as you shuffle about, gathering things as you go. A towel on the outside of the shower cubicle. New soap. His fluffiest robe. He’s about to open his mouth to speak, but you’re tucking a thermometer in his mouth, watching his mouth downturn into a pout.

A moment later, it beeps.

“One hundred and one,” you murmur, placing the device back in its proper holder. He groans, leaning into your abdomen, your arm curling around his shoulders to keep him close. “Bet you’re feeling all kinds of achy right now. I’ll be right back, okay? And then I’m here for whatever you need.”

——

When you return, Steve’s already propped up in bed on a mountain of pillows. The box of tissues beside him looks freshly opened, his nose a bright red that has your stomach dipping for him. He’s foregone his usual sleeping routine of wearing no shirt. Instead, he wears a hoodie with some sports logo you're unfamiliar with on, hips covered in the bedspread.

On one hand, you have his soup. In the other, the medicine he’s meant to take for the next few days. He accepts both greedily. As greedily as one who looks very much ghostly at this point can, normally tan skin pale, eyes heavy lidded.

“What are you watching there, handsome?” you ask, remaining near his hip, taking the garbage from him once he’s taken out his things.

“Some show where these people bake and you have to guess if the items are cake or not.” He’s so stuffy now, and you can’t help but giggle at the change in his voice. “You can’t make fun of your husband when he’s sick.”

“Is that a rule?”

“It was one of our vows, actually,” he says, glancing about the bedside table momentarily.

“Must have forgotten that one. Need something?” you ask, combing your fingers through his hair.

He leans into the touch. “Some water, please?”

You make your way over to the bedroom door, fingers curling around the frame, just as he speaks again, “Oh, and some more tissues?”

The box felt mostly full, but you toss him a smile over your shoulder all the same, fondness welling in your chest for the man.

“Can you fluff my pillows, baby?”

At that, you whirl back around, brows arching. “Yeah?”

He grins as you lean over him, chest nearly brushing his face, smacking both sides of said pillows. “Maybe tuck me in while you’re at it?”

Now you’re snorting, but reaching down around his waist to start pushing fabric into place near his hips, drawing back when he stops you in your movements. “Is that not good?”

“I’m just messing with you, honey.”

You shove him. Hard.

“Hey! I’m sick.”

“And you’re a pain in my ass, Mr. Harrington.”

“But you love it, Mrs. Harrington.”

And you’re speechless.

Because he’s right, and there’s nothing you can say to refute that fact at this point.

A fact that becomes more and more clear every day.

——

All in all, you really do both get the opportunity to work out those in sickness and in health vows. Because about twenty four hours into Steve being sick, you start to feel run down, and about twelve hours after that, the two of you spend the better part of five days sleeping and holding one another in bed, watching mindless reality television shows, and coaxing Charlie to join you both so he can curl up near your feet and keep a watchful eye on you both.

Eddie calls on the first day you’re both down for the count. Checks in to see if you need anything, offers to drop off food, and pick up anything you might need from the grocery store. Hopper ends up sending food up to the penthouse, cooked by Joyce herself, and joined by some freshly baked chocolate chip cookies for dessert.

On day two, Robin and Nancy stop in, keeping a far distance, but end up cleaning around the house since you hadn’t really had a chance to before your own fever and body aches kicked in.

After that, your friends and family alternate until you’re both back on the mend. And it’s not long before Steve has a healthy glow back in his face and you can breathe through your nose once more.

The day before Thanksgiving, you both pack up your things in suitcases and send off Charlie to go stay with Joyce and Hopper for the duration of your trip. The kids, El and Will, are overjoyed at the prospect of spending time with the puppy and promise to keep him safe and feed him all the treats if he’s well behaved.

Sighing a hum of relief, you slam your passenger side door shut, wincing as Steve slams the trunk closed before joining you within. He thumps against the headrest, left hand on the steering wheel, the other reaching over the center console you lace his fingers through yours. You beam up at him, heat crawling along flesh, and give his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Ready to go, Harrington?”

He puts the car into gear, and you’re off.

——

Mrs. Harrington’s second home is beautiful. More than you could ever imagine. After a five hour flight and a short drive from the airport to the front gates, you’re greeted by a worker who allows Steve to pass in the rental car, weaving up cobblestone roads through an endless sea of trees in what feels like the middle of nowhere Vail, Colorado.

The home is gorgeous. Nestled in the middle of lush greenery is a luxurious mansion adorned with endless rustic charm. Glowing lights spill from the giant windows, illuminating the wrap-around stone patio that compliments the blend of timeless stone and timber exterior of the pale walls boasting of the multiple floors within the home. From where you’re standing you can see the garden off to the right side of the home and the pond trickling amidst her blooms.

“This is how all the good scary movies start…” you say, leaning your head back to take in the towering home standing before you. “Giant home in the middle of nowhere.”

“Is that so?” He’s laughing, sides shaking with it as he grips your suitcase and tugs it after him. “Come on, honey. No one is about to hop out of the woods.”

“How do you know?” Your brow arches high on your forehead, breaking off into a snort he rolls his eyes at.

“Come on.” He tugs you along beside him, your shoulders bumping at the proximity. “My mom can hardly wait another minute to see us if her dozens of texts were any indication.”

He’s not wrong.

She’s there in a flurry of movement to greet you, patting you both on the backs of your heads, overjoyed that you’re both feeling better.

The inside is just as magnificent. Vaulted ceilings, white walls with wooden decor. A burning fireplace in the middle of one of the largest living rooms you’ve ever seen, attached to a kitchen that looks the size of your old apartment. She walks you through the rest of the home, revealing room after room of generational wealth. Old money that runs in Steve’s blood—a fact you often forget, because he’s never been one for the lavish or lofty.

It dawns on you that this is what he’s used to. Holidays in the Hamptons, vacation homes in Vail and on tropical islands, cars that cost a salary.

Noting your stupor, Steve curls an arm around your shoulder, back of his hand on your forehead. “Still feeling okay?”

“I’m okay,” you reassure him with a smile, jolting as Mrs. Harrington whirls on you both and catches the two of you in the middle of a private moment.

“Well aren’t you two just lovely. I’m really so happy you could make it.” She claps her hands excitedly. “You’re the first ones here. I’ll show you to your room. I’m sorry it’s across from mine, I just figured with Cami, Theo and the kids, you two would want a little peace and quiet.”

And absolutely no privacy, you think, taking in the short distance between your bedroom and Mrs. Harrington’s. And it’s not like you’d anticipated anything happening, but you couldn’t help but to wonder if something might have. The room is lovely. A king sized bed with cream colored sheets. Various sandy colored decorations. Plants hanging in the bedroom window. A dresser that you easily slide your things into, and the adjoining bathroom just next to the room. Up above a sparking chandelier dangles, shards that look like mirrors cutting yours and Steve’s forms into dozens of miniature versions of yourselves that you stare back at.

She gives you a moment to unpack and destress, and you’re barely aware of the bedroom door clicking shut before Steve’s crawling over your form on the bed. You hum into his lips as they claim yours, days of doing nothing but sleeping, making your insides burn, craving more. Always more of him these days. A sigh falls from your parted lips as he pastes endless kisses to your neck. Until you’re writhing beneath him, cheeks burning up, fingers clutching at his biceps.

“Not in your mother’s home,” you giggle, breathless and giddy from his attention. “I’m serious, Steve. I'm still trying to make a good impression.”

He flops over onto his side, hair freshly cut and beard freshly shaven. He’s perfect. The slope of his nose, the curve of those cheekbones, the cut of his jaw. Your forehead leans into his, fingers trailing over the thin sweater covering his abdomen, before trailing beneath, roaming over sinewy muscle. The divots and indentations from hours spent in the gym, the patch of hair that slips down past his belt, always teasing—tempting.

“We’re in my mother’s house,” he reminds you as your fingers trail lower, toying with the too expensive buckle on his belt, eyes following the path of your touch, “isn’t that what you said? Plus, if I remember correctly, you’re not one to keep quiet.”

“I changed my mind. I can be so quiet,” you argue frostily, earning a chuckle from the man. “Like a little church mouse.”

“As much as I would love to test that theory, I think that’s the doorbell.”

Theobald and Cami.

You groan, burying your face into his shoulder.

——

You’ve decided on a silky burgundy dress for Thanksgiving dinner. Long sleeves glide over your arms, the deep neckline drawing Steve’s gaze from where he sits on the edge of the bed fastening his cufflinks with his diamond encrusted initial in the center.

He looks handsome as ever. A pair of dark pants, his suit jacket, a pop of burgundy on his necktie that matches what you’ve worn. He’s gotten a haircut, his hair no longer falling around his jaw. Instead it’s a bit shorter, coiffed perfectly on his head, and that hair along his jawline has been shaved once more, leaving him fresh faced and glowy after his shower.

Exhaling deeply, you run your fingers over the fabric, turning to and fro, taking in your image in the mirror, making sure the fit is immaculate, before turning to face him.

“Good?”

“Perfect,” he whispers a little breathlessly, crossing the room to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. He holds out a hand and you clasp it, allowing him to lead you to the bedroom door. “Shall we?”

Your nose wrinkles. “We shall.”

Despite the face dinner is taking place at Mrs. Harrington’s home, she hired a full wait staff for the evening, along with a private chef. The dining room—though you thought it more akin to a dining hall—is decked to the nines with all the finest offerings. She’s gone for the vintage plates and freshly polished silverware. Wine glasses sparkle all around the table, illuminated by the candles down the center of the velvet runner.

Cami’s familiar head of curls lifts first as you enter, her hands that were moving to fix the lapels of her son’s suit jacket moving to draw you in for a hug as she rushes over to greet you and Steve in the entryway.

“Oh we are so happy to hear you two are doing better,” she gushes, patting Steve affectionately on the cheek. Like he’s a puppy like Charlie—like a child. You catch the wince as she pinches the skin there and gives it a wiggle, and then moves to grab your hand like this isn’t only the third time you’ve seen her in the five months you’ve been married to her family member. “Let me introduce you to my two little babies. They’d been with the au pair the night of your wedding. This right here is Harriet, and here is Holden.”

Twins. Harriet and Holden Harrington are twins, and they look absolutely nothing like their father and that fact alone has your lips twitching up in laughter. Because the sweet little ones sitting across from you with eyes that remind you so much of Steve’s are red headed and just as freckly as their mom is. Adorable, in a way that has your insides melting, reaching out to Steve to grasp onto something as you bend down and finally greet them both.

“Hi,” you whisper, telling them your name. “I’m your cousin Steve’s wife. It’s so nice to meet you! How old are you two?”

“We’re seven,” Harriet says demurely, her little nose turning upward just the slightest as she adds, “almost eight.”

Cami giggles brightly. “And nearly ripped my a—”

“Cami, dear,” Theobald interjects, appearing in the doorway with a bottle of wine that looks older than you are. He’s swaying a bit on his feet, the glass of whiskey in his free hand alerting to what he’s gotten up to before you came down for dinner. “Well, hello there. We were wondering when you two would come out to join us.”

“It’s been a long week,” Steve reminds him, curling an arm around your waist. “My wife and I were sick.”

“That’s right,” his cousin says, glancing down at the label on the bottle, uninterested. “What a misfortune that was. Canceled all your meetings that week, but don’t worry—I took care of things.”

“Thank you,” Steve says, leading you to your chair, and the tautness in his muscles alerts you this is not a good thing Theo has done. He slides forward as you sit down and presses a kiss to the side of your head before joining on your right. “Sweetheart, would you mind passing me that bottle?”

“Why don’t we open the vintage?” Theobald suggests, holding aloft his latest discovery from the wine cellar you’d passed on your short tour around the premises of the Mrs. Harrington’s home.

The room settles into an uncomfortable silence. Minus that of the children’s chatter and their father’s requests for them to behave like ‘civilized human beings and not like wild animals at the dinner table.’ At which you sink further into your chair, grateful for the weight of Steve’s left hand on your thigh.

Mrs. Harrington has already made herself comfortable at the head of the table by the time the wait staff comes around to declare the menu offerings for the evening. A four course meal, with ample options to choose from. Everyone orders and the salads are brought out for the first course, when the room starts to shift.

Or rather, Theobald starts to shift. “So, I’m really glad to see the two of you thriving. So happily in love, aren’t they?”

“They’re just lovely,” Mrs. Harrington agrees from where she sits beside her son, cupping his jaw lovingly. “She loves my son so well.”

Your heart aches at her words, at the honesty behind them. She truly, undoubtedly believes that you love her son. And maybe you’re starting to. You’re not sure. In the past, you’ve never really thought much on the topic of love. Had never had time for relationships, always buried in schoolwork, trying to stay afloat, get ahead. Love had always been a maybe. A someday. Not a necessity. Not something you’d ever base your happiness off of. But all around you you’d seen people giddy with it. Your own parents, Robin and Nancy, Eddie and the way he felt about Chrissy.

You knew you were fond of Steve. Knew you loved him like you did Robin. Like you did Eddie. The way you loved Charlie. And yet—and yet there’s a whisper in the back of your mind. A tendril or something new growing. Unnamed still, but with the humble beginnings of something special. Something waiting to be tended to, lured into the light, encouraged.

“How is everything going with school, dear?” Mrs. Harrington asks you, and Theobald’s face twitches from where he sits beside you.

“Oh—it’s great,” you tell her, swallowing your sip of wine. “Clinicals are going well. I’m on my fall break right now. Just a few more months and I’ll be a veterinarian.”

“Doctor Harrington,” Steve says, bringing your hand up to his lips to press a kiss against the back of your knuckles. “So proud of you, honey. She works harder than anyone I know. Runs a business, takes care of Charlie and me.”

“You know, it’s a wonder how you’re affording it,” Theo mutters, drawing the gaze of everyone at the dinner table. At the curious stares, he adds, “Well, the typical cost of veterinary school is somewhere in the hundreds of thousands. And that’s not including what you may have incurred from your undergraduate studies.”

“I’ve worked very hard to stay ahead on my payments,” you splutter out, the lettuce you’d just placed on your tongue turning to acid.

“I’m sure you have,” he says, sounding a little smug. “I, for one, would like to say how happy we are that you’re here. I know the holidays must be hard for you.”

“I—uh, yes.” At Steve’s confusion, you murmur, “We lost my mother this time of year. She’d been sick for a long time.”

He knows that much. Knows she passed, doesn’t know what from. Doesn’t know that your father struggled for years after. That he became a shadow of the person he was for a time—choked off by the grief. That you had to step in and grow up far before you ever should have had to to help raise your little sister. That you watched as the man you loved lost everything he had, and nearly lost the home he loved his wife in for so many years, the home he’d raised his children in, the home he’d wanted to one day have his grandchildren run through the halls of, grow old in, make memories to last a lifetime in.

“I’m also happy to hear your father’s home is no longer in foreclosure.”

Your fork clangs onto the plate at that. “What are you—”

“Seems your father was able to make up for all his missed payments, late fees, and those pesky attorney’s fees. Where might he have gotten all of that money?”

“Theobald,” Cami hisses, leaning over her wine glass to look at you with a pitying stare. “I’m sorry, sweetie. My husband must have over served himself. Isn’t that right, darling?”

“It just seems…interesting, you know?” Theo continues against her wishes, eying you curiously.

Steve opens his mouth to argue, but you jump in before he can. “And what might be so interesting, Mr. Harrington?”

“Initially, I’m going to be honest in saying that I thought you married because you were pregnant. I figured my dear cousin had tried to cover up his mistakes with a shotgun wedding and raise his littlest Harrington as his fortunate heir. But seeing as you are not, I may have hired a private investigator to look into who Steve married.”

“You what?” Steve and his mother balk, anger lining their gazes.

There’s an awkward silence that descends over the room. It’s made more uncomfortable when the wait staff comes in to clear the salad plates and sets down entrees in front of those sitting at the table. Harriet and Holden are chatting amongst themselves, Cami there to help tuck napkins in their collars. Your eyes wander their way, nose sniffling sharply to keep your unshed tears at bay.

Because Theobald Harrington will not see you cry today.

So you’ll beat him to it. You’ll play along with his vicious game.

“Yes, when my mother died my father struggled. I have a little sister, and she was so young at the time. We’ve never been particularly wealthy, so you imagine going from two incomes to one was hard,” you begin, carving at your food hastily. Steve’s hand brushes along the back of your wrist, but you continue, “Bills started piling up. Medical bills are expensive, and it’s not like we had money just laying around by the bucketful like you might. So, yes, he struggled to stay afloat. And I helped him, but a waitress salary at the time could only go so far. Should I continue?”

Theobald leans his chin onto his hand, elbow on the table despite his aunt’s protests. “Humor me.”

“I started my business and have sent him money to pay down what he owes. And yes, the home came out of foreclosure.” You slam your fork down onto the plate below. “No, I’m not pregnant. And if you want me to admit I married Steve for money or something, because that’s what it sounds like you’re insinuating, you’re wrong; I married him because I love him. A word I’m not quite sure you know the meaning of, because you haven’t been a good family member to Steve, and certainly haven’t been one to me either.”

You turn your head to Mrs. Harrington, hot embarrassment burning behind your eyes. “May I be excused for a moment, please? I’m suddenly not feeling very well.”

She nods, eyes a little misty, voice hoarse. “Yes, my dearie.”

The chair beneath you groans, sweaty palm slipping out of Steve’s hand, before your napkin is thrown onto your empty plate. Cami mutters a silent apology, the children stare, Steve stares ahead, jaw tense, and Theo only grins into his wine glass. Smug as ever.

And it’s then, and only then, as you slip into your bedroom that you allow the tears to fall. Because for months you’ve been trying to fit a mold, to be that woman for Steve, to walk in this world as seamlessly as he does.

But you don’t belong, and Theo’s only made that clearer.

——

Steve knows you. Knows beneath that stubborn exterior, the way you’re always flippant and easy to brush things off with a joke, you have a soft heart. He knows you would prefer to divert to humor before accepting an uncomfortability of conflict. Knows you default to protect yourself, because you’ve been doing so for so long. That you’ve built walls around yourself, even if you don’t realize; walls he can see dismantling every day he’s gotten to know you.

Sure, you’ve been romantic for only a short while now, but five months of marriage — of being your friend first — has lent to a deeper understanding. A love that he’s not felt before, growing deeper every day.

So as he watches as you excuse yourself in a blur of tears and choked words, he knows to wait a minute before slamming his napkin down on the table and following you. He knocks first as he approaches your shared bedroom door. Speaks your name into the open space when you don’t answer at first, only to find you curled on your side in bed, holding a pillow flush against your chest.

His first thought is how much he wants to wrap you up in his arms and kiss your sullen face until it lights up with his favorite smile once more. That same smile he thinks is his kryptonite, always brightening your features and effectively robbing him of air. And you don’t even know the power you hold. But he halts near your hip, backside hitting the plus mattress, palm around the dip of your waist. He feels the shake of your sides, the effort of your tears you’re trying to smother in the pillow.

It cleaves his heart right down the middle. Two halves slowly flutter to the bottom of his stomach, lungs tight in his chest like a vice. The last time he saw you cry, it had been just as terrible. You hurt over his actions, eyes red, lids puffy. To think seeing you like this now would be any less heartbreaking is a mistake on his part. Because his heart breaks for what yours does, body slowly sidling up behind yours, your back against his chest, his fingers gradually walking up and down your arm, quiet as your tears start to subside, your breathing evening out.

“Thank you, Steve,” you sniffle after some time has passed with you in his arms.

He exhales deeply as you shift on the bed, turning to face him, wiping at your mascara smudged cheeks. You’re still the prettiest girl in the world, he thinks, without a doubt. Thumbs the corner of your eye where a little dark smudge has started to form, collecting the tear that spills out the corner of your eye.

“Cami started yelling at him when I left, if that makes you feel better,” he says, chest aching when you shake with laughter, burrowing your head into the curve of his shoulder where it meets his chest. Where you’ve always been meant to fit, he realizes. “Said he’s sleeping in the guest bedroom down the hall, and that she’ll stay with the kids. She loves you, you know? She’s a little…intense but she loves you.”

“I’m glad someone does.”

“Hey…” He pushes back a bit to tilt your head up, eyes locking on yours. “My mother loves you too. And I…you’re my wife. You're just as much a Harrington as anyone else at that dinner table, okay?”

“Steve, I don’t belong, and you know that.”

The sound that escapes you is a pitiful thing. A mix between a sob and a moan, more tears spilling down your cheeks when he leans down and presses his lips to yours. Softly, at first, but it quickly grows deeper, his desire to keep you there with him pounding in his blood. Screaming into the space that you belong, you belong, you belong.

“You do belong,” he says, his breath a mere pant against your trembling lips, “you belong with me, okay? That’s all that matters. He’s jealous. He’s jealous because of years of hatred that have started long before I married you and will continue because he’s unhappy. And because he’s unhappy he’s made it his goal to make everyone around him unhappy too.”

He brushes the tears beneath your eyes. Kisses the tracks with the lightest of touches against your face. Nudges your nose until all that remains is that bright, beaming smile. “You’re a Harrington. We’re a team, okay? It’s not a conventional marriage, sure, but you have me. Okay? I’m here for you; it’s okay to let me be here for you.”

He exhales deeply as you sink further into him. Bodies tangling like they’ve done so for years as opposed to weeks. A hand comes up to brush along the back of your head, your fingers splaying in the bunched fabric of his shirt.

“Thank you, Stevie.”

The name is a jolt to his heart. Saccharine sweet and liquid hot in his bloodstream. The arm wound around your waist draws you closer, tighter to him. He wishes he could be closer, wants to memorize every detail of your form, the depths of your eyes, wants to memorize the sounds you make when you fall asleep, the way his name sounds on your lips in utter bliss like that afternoon in the kitchen. He wants it all. For the first time in a long time, maybe ever, he knows.

“He’s not wrong though,” you say after some time. Softly, so softly.

“About?”

“I did marry you for money.”

At that, his lip twitches. “Well, I married you for a company and a title.”

Unconventional. Irresponsible. But as the months slip on by, he knows he wouldn’t change it for the world. He would take thousands of moments like these over and over again. You, in his arms. You, chest to chest, nose to nose, forehead to forehead. Two people wound together and tied together by a contract, now lost in the unfamiliar something more growing.

“I think it ended up being a good business deal, though,” you tell him, eyes boring into his. Like this, he feels raw. Exposed like a nerve. But he’s unafraid. Welcomes it. “Don’t you?”

“I do,” he wholeheartedly agrees, sliding a palm along the contours of your cheek. Relishes in the feeling of you sinking further into the mattress, sleep starting to peek in at the corner or your eyes. “And another thing, you know you could have come to me about your family, right? I didn’t realize that’s what you were doing with your dog walking business.”

“Steve, you’ve already done too much. I’m not asking you for more. Plus, things are okay now. He’s doing well, Caroline is well—I’ve got it handled.”

And, in a way, he knows you have for a long time now. Wonders if you’ve ever just allowed yourself a moment of respite. Of not worrying how the next bill would get paid, wondering if your family would be okay, all while grieving the loss of someone so important. It pains him to think of it, chest heaving with a weight so great it’s nearly suffocating.

But it’s almost like you know, fingers slipping along his chest, pausing at the space against his sternum where his heart pounds loudly in his ears. “Just let me have this and I’m happy. This—you, us, whatever this is.”

“You just…you never should have had to grow up so fast,” he says sadly, wishing he could have been there, would have met you sooner—he’s not even sure. He just knows he grieves for the young girl who felt like she had the world resting on her shoulders. “You’re…probably one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. But you have me now, for what it’s worth.”

“It’s worth a lot,” you tell him sincerely.

He swallows the knot forming in his throat and smiles to himself as you lift his left hand and trace your thumb over the wedding band there idly. A silence settles over the room, comfort found in roaming hands, in gentle brushes of lips, of soft sighs as either pulls away to catch a breath.

And later, as the moon rises high over an inky sky, and he’s holding you close in his arms, both of you in pajamas and ready for bed, he brushes an open kiss to your shoulder blade. Whispers, “Tell me about her, will you? She’s important to you, so she’s important to me.”

The two of you lay for hours. Talking amongst your sheets and pillows. Wound together tight. Interlocking fingers and legs. You begin to paint a picture in his mind of the woman who meant the world to you and more. A woman with joy and love in her heart, a lyrical laugh, a bright smile he can only imagine mirrors yours. Someone he knows had a part in growing you into the woman laying beside him. A person he’s proud of, is fond of, finds himself…falling for.

Love, maybe?

An abstract to him for so. A lofty ideal he thought always meant for others, never him. His own family had been lacking it, his parent’s marriage scarred and soiled by years of lies and infidelity. But he wonders if it’s there. If the capacity of love exists within him, and maybe it only has been seeking the right person.

“She would have really liked you, you know?” you tell him after some time, fingers crawling along the divots of his abdomen, his skin breaking out into gooseflesh.

He gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You think so?”

“Absolutely,” you say reassuringly, peeking up through your lashes to gaze up at him. “It’s hard not to.”

Those eyes—your eyes—will never not render him a little speechless.

He’ll get lost in them over and over again and never tire. But there’s comfort in it.

Even now, as you lean over and shut the bedside lamp. As you crawl over his chest and tug his glasses free from his face and press your lips to his. As you slump down into his chest, head over his sternum, arms around his waist.

Something like love blooms behind his ribcage.

It should be scary, but as he watches your back rise and fall in your sleep, he realizes it isn’t.

——

please like/ reblog/ interact if you enjoyed! i love hearing from and talking to you all. next chapter is…one you’ve probably all been waiting for. 😏

#lunalovessteve #Steve Harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington modern au #beyond!steve

409 notes · View notes