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#bc i want fun people in the same class
crybaby-bkg · 1 year
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I love you storytelling I love you world building I love you carefully crafted works I love you time spent into doing what you love I love you pieces embedded into stories that reflect the author I love you detailed backgrounds I love you clear imagery I love you creative writing I love you descriptive scenes I love you tiny details just to have I love you run on sentences for dramatic effect I love you full expression through writing I love you
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I love learning ASL it’s so good. Makes me happy to learn it. I’m so glad my university has classes for it with professors actually steeped in Deaf culture.
#blue chatter#am I good at ASL? hahahahahahaha. no.#ASL and English grammar are incredibly different and even when I remember my vocab I am easily clockable as hearing#but I do have some language capacity now. enough to communicate the basics.#and I just. genuinely really enjoy it. it’s fun to learn and engaging in a way most of my classes just aren’t.#and I can. yanno. communicate respectfully w Deaf ppl. and learn about their culture#which is incredibly important given that I want to go into a field where there is a higher incidence than typical of Deaf people#autistic? you’re more likely to be Deaf!#not to mention the fact that sign language can sometimes be a useful alternative to speech for nonspeaking/nonverbal people#depending on the person obvi; some nonspeaking/nonverbal autistics cannot use sign language and that’s okay#but surely at some point I will encounter either a Deaf client or a nonspeaking/nonverbal client who uses ASL#and when that time comes I should have some idea of how to communicate with them#I also rly like the Deaf church by my parents’ house#their community is really welcoming and their services are really interesting#I think it’s rly cool how they take intentions directly from the congregation#they’ll raise their hands and then sign what their intention is from their pew to the ambo#which is rly neat#it is funny bc every time I go the Deaf ppl I talk to will tell each other ‘go slow she’s hearing’#which is ENTIRELY fair bc. I am hearing. and I do need them to go slower.#but it also makes me laugh bc truly everyone knows within a few minutes.#oh hey the new person? they’re hearing. yeah they’re learning ASL at college. sign slowly for her.#which again makes sense bc a big Deaf culture thing is keeping ppl informed. it’s not gossip it’s getting everyone on the same page.#Deaf ppl do NOT beat around the bush that is like the height of rudeness to them. u say what u mean goshdangit. do not waste their time.#which I appreciate the heck out of bc i don’t have to try and phrase things delicately or w/e#it was also funny bc my mom came w me while I was home for Christmas and they asked her if I was her kid#and she said yes. and the lady running the kid’s craft corner thing was like ‘great you’re doing a craft now’#and I’m sitting there. visibly over 18 years old. amongst several seven year olds. trying desperately to figure out how to say hot glue gun#I made a v pretty pinecone tree it was a lot of fun ^-^
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bladeofthestars · 5 months
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#i'm so fucking stressed all the time#i want to be done with this stupid class#i wanna hang out and do stupid stuff with my stupid friends more#but they're all busy with other stupid shit#i'm just flailing around drowning trying to cling to something but all the rocks here are slick and the waves keep dashing me against them#like practically nothing is making me happy right now#there are too many people in my life sick and dying right now that need attention and my sister just had a baby#and is being hit with post partum and needs attention#but i *also* need attention. just cuz? i guess?#which makes me feel like such a whiny asshole#oh boo hoo i'm dealing with the same depression that i have been since i was thirteen and it's bad right now#just. fuck.#asking for help and attention doesn't get me anywhere#except with my partner but like. i fucking ache to just spend some time with some people??#my partner is obv a person but i need a good group sesh#drinking and board games and dumb jokes and anecdotes#and 'i thought of you's#my life right now is work. come home and fidget on my phone bc if i start a task that task should be classwork. do nothing productive or fun#sleep. wake up the next day and do it all again#cram some classwork in on my lonely weekends after everyone i've asked to hangout turns me down#fuckin keep hitting all the pleasure buttons to see if something sticks#legitimately i think i'm addicted to sugar#more often than not nowadays i feel straight uo nauseated when eating sweet things#but instead of stopping i just keep going#and i go back for more later even though it STILL makes me feel like trash then too#maybe *this* oreo will make my brain feel motivated enough to do a task#the answer is usually no#but every now and then it works so i keep fucking doing it#took a long walk the other night and it didn't help me finish task but it did bring a little peace of mind#unfortunately my legs and knees have been starting to hurt a bit again
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fleshdyke · 8 months
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absnskaisgbsj
#lost literally one of the best friendships of my life yesterday#i mean it’s been gone for a while i just never had the courage to talk to them about it until yesterday. and that basically confirmed it tbh#they didn’t say i did anything wrong but they also didn’t not say i did anything wrong and i’m v paranoid that i did do smth wrong#like i dont want to talk bad abt any of them bc genuinely i had so much fun with these people and im so glad i got to know them#like when i talked to them they were very dry ig? like not like their usual self at all even when talking to someone they dont know#definitely sounded like they were talking to someone they hated. im trying to tell myself taht its just my anxiety but ummm yeah idk i think#im actually right this time#idk. it just sucks man. im trying to think of what i did wrong bc i just dont know what happened#i think im overanalyzing every interaction i can remember having with these ppl bc i dont even want to entertain the idea that they might#have been bad people all along. i dont want to think that and i dont but idk it feels like an observation about myself that ive made from#the outside in yk. like half of me is feeling the emotional response and the other half is just watching from the outside like im someone#else. and i know this is a normal human thing but its just always weird yk#and then theres the whole awful thing of seeing shit that they would find funny or that reminds me of them. and i also dont know what im#supposed to do when school starts back up again bc we took a lot of the same classes and if i end up in a class with them idk if im supposed#to say hi or just pretend they dont exist or not and i dont want to make the wrong decision so they hate me even more yk#whatever man. it fucking sucks but life goes on. my dog is just chilling in my room rn and i’ll always have her and tia and my brother#rambles#vent
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myname-isnia · 10 months
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The day I found out people actually find writing and drawing and generally creating art enjoyable is the day my perception of the world broke
#it was just over a year ago when I was doing group art classes#we were painting a vase and flowers. y’know. as you do in art class#and the teacher stopped what I was doing and said I was being too technical#I was trying way too hard to get it exactly right#we’re not aiming for 100% realism. academical paintings are built on exaggerating a few things and playing with colours#I was supposed to let go and enjoy myself and have fun doing it#it was supposed to be relaxing#(literally quoting here)#and I sat there like.. borderline hysterical#WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE RELAXING#WHAT DO YOU MEAN Y’ALL DON’T THROW FITS OVER DRAWINGS NOT BEING PERFECT#AND LOSE YOURSELF IN JEALOSY BC THE PRETTY GIRL YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON THAT SITS NEXT TO YOU IS SO MUCH BETTER AT ART THAN YOU#AND YOUR MOM WON’T STOP COMPARING YOU TO HER BC HER MOM DOES NOTHING BUT BRAG ABOUT HOW GOOD SHE IS#I’M SUPPOSED TO ENJOY IT?????#it’s been over a year and it hasn’t gotten easier#I stopped being openly upset in class bc like I said I liked a girl there and didn’t want her to think I was pathetic#but good god did I feel pathetic#and it’s the same with writing#I don’t get jealous over it bc I don’t watch people not struggle with it in real life like in art class#but yeah… when I started seeing those writer positivity posts like#‘it doesn’t matter if it’s self indulgent or cringe or bad. what matters is that you enjoyed writing it’#and that’s the thing#I have never. in my life. enjoyed writing something#which sounds insane but it’s true. writing is frustrating and anger inducing and most of the time I hate it#both the process and the end result#I realised that I create for selfish reasons. I write and draw because I like reading comments and reblog tags. not because I enjoy it#and it’s not even worth it bc I barely get any feedback on my work anyway. I’m into way too niche things for that#it’s why I can never get any writing done. I say I’m tired or busy or burnt out or have writers block. all lies. every single one#I just can’t force myself to do things I hate. but I keep lying to myself that I like them bc that’s what I based my personality around#maybe I should just quit instead of whining about it all the time like a fucking toddler. wouldn’t be that big of a loss
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officialtokyosan · 2 years
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dude ive been like hella depressed over how my teachers and adults treated me like shit or were hard on me as a kid or had no sympathy for me not because there was something wrong with me but because they were racist
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rainbow-burst · 2 years
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My last day at is Saturday should I...
A. BE FAKE AND BE NICE TO EVERYBODY AROUND ME🤢
B. NOT SHOW UP
C. SHOW UP BUT LEAVE EARLY
D. FUCK EVERYBODY UP..❤️
Or
E. CALL EVERYBODY OUT ON THEIR B.S
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thedevotionaltour · 1 month
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in terms of art alone im sorry. im a jrjr defender to my last breath you be fucking nice to him. i dont wanna hear shit❗️❗️❗️
#can someone also get him better inkers rn i am begging. pleading even. HE MAKES GOOD STUFF THEY JUST GIVE HIM SHIT INKERS WHO DONT GET IT.#MY FIRM BELIEF. im sorry. i like his stuff. there are certain things not quite my taste but i think he does good overall im a fan. BE NICE#static.soundz#sorry that last post was so directly inspired by seeing someone go can u guys be nice he is on a fucking nutbag schedule. which he is.#i dont think some people understand the insanity of comic production. and how much it takes a toll on you.#many have said and i will say it too: comics is a killing industry. it is a beautiful fun job. it is fulfilling. it will also destroy you.#the most common and easiest to use example is in fact the manga industry. they want chapters in a week. 20 page type chapters in a week.#A WEEK!!! and currently look at things like webtoon as well which also expect the same amount of pages. in a week. an issue in a week#is an insane demand. it is an unreasonable demand. it is scheduling that leads you to a crash and burnout and health issues#because it is fully finished polished pages. as much as i poke and complain about how some things look there#i am also highly aware of production schedules. even if some styles are not my taste that still doesnt mean it isnt insane work#and it's the same in american big industry comics too. it isnt weekly demand the way those are. but it's still an intense schedule#you are working on pages and can get behind years before those comics even hit shelves.#and as it becomes more individualized too as we lose the team element and work becomes more one person doing all pencils and inks#that schedule is a lot. it just is. it doesnt matter if theres more time in comparison to other parts of the industry#the point is that it is all very demanding and exploitative. there is a drive yourself to your grave mentality here and i've had ppl try#to shove that mindset onto my and my peers which is the worst thing possible to encourage. highly alarming and disheartening to encourage#impressionable students already so worried about making it to drive themselves to an early grave. abuse substances to get through work.#work excessive hours while you still can because when you hit your 30s youre gonna lose that ability#become bitter and prepared for rejection as opposed to success because this industry sucks!#it's just such an unhealthy depressing mindset. i've had more artists preach the exact opposite as that and more ppl have been trying to#shift over to valuing your time and health. but still a lot of people are in that other mentality. and it's very very very sad.#i am only a student doing very low stakes homework for classes. i have no industry experience. and i still get it taken out of me#to do fully fledged out pages in my style in one week. this is also just a thing for me bc certain personal factors just make it hard#but still. comics are fun. they are fun. they are fulfilling. they will lead you to so many fucking issues if you are not highly careful#there is a reason why so so so many fucking comic artists have very well known issues. why you hear about so many ppl with substance issues#artists with very poor mental health. when you are in comics this is how it is.#i am glad there has been a big shift in recent years towards taking care of yourself as an artist. and that more ppl try to value it so tha#things can hopefully change at large in a broader sense. but please remember. we are an exploited chew up spit out industry too.
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hedgewitchnecromancer · 3 months
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Can my birthday present be adequate mental health for a day please brain?
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quin-ns · 1 year
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Assigned Seat (JJ Maybank x Reader)
Word count: 2.8K
Summary: JJ won’t sit in the correct seat because it’s not next to you
Tags: fluff, mutual crushes, lots of flirting, JJ being cute, slightly oblivious reader, getting together, everyone ships, just cute fun fr
A/N: binged obx and this is my first fic for it and of course I had to write for JJ- he’s my fave. also, it’s s2 when school starts but let’s say they know that john b is alive before the first day of class bc I don’t want this to be angsty lol
cross-posted to ao3 • obx masterlist • writing masterlist
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First day back in your first class of the day—Mr. Sunn’s history class—and you were greeted with a seating chart. Usually, you would just sit with your friends, but now you saw that Pope and Kiara weren’t in the same row like they usually would’ve been when you all shared a class. You didn’t even see JJ at all yet. You wondered if he’d show up. It was the one class that you actually had with him, so you hoped he would. Otherwise you wouldn’t see him until lunch break.
You found your seat with ease, but gave Kie a light frown when she turned around and saw you weren’t anywhere close to her or Pope.
About a minute before class was about to start, JJ walked through the door. He spotted you and grinned. He headed for the empty seat beside you and dropped down in it.
“Hey,” JJ greeted. “I was almost late but here I am.”
You laughed a little (mostly because of how proud he sounded). “Yeah, I see that.”
“So, what’s up?” he asked, side eyeing Kie and Pope. “Are we avoiding them for some reason or…?”
“What? No,” you replied quickly. “Appreciate that you were instantly on my side, though,” you said with an amused tone. 
JJ smiled at the comment. “I appreciate the appreciation.”
You rolled your eyes but smiled back nonetheless.
“If you two are done flirting, perhaps Mr. Maybank could move to his correct seat and we can get class started,” Mr. Sunn called out suddenly. You and JJ both were startled, realizing he was talking to you
JJ furrowed his brows. “Correct seat?” he whispered. “What is he talking about?”
“There’s a seating chart,” you muttered back, finally remembering.
“What?” JJ asked a little louder. “That’s lame,” he grumbled. 
“Well, tough,” Mr. Sunn replied, clearly having heard. “And according to my lame seating chart, you’re on the other side of the room.”
“It’s an empty seat,” JJ pointed out. 
“Actually, it’s Mr. Kane’s seat,” Mr. Sunn gestured towards a boy standing near you guys that you embarrassingly enough just now noticed. 
“Well, great, he can have my seat,” JJ suggested with that cheeky smile of his. 
Mr. Sunn looked from JJ to you. “You must be something special, Ms. Y/L/N. I’ve never had someone fight so hard to keep a seat.”
All you could do was laugh awkwardly, very aware of all the eyes on you. You gave JJ a look, asking for him to save you from being the center of attention on the first day. The only way he could was by relenting. 
With a sigh that you would deem dramatic, JJ stood and grabbed his backpack. Mr. Sunn held up the seating chart paper. Everyone watched as he went to the front of the class and glanced at the paper, and then found his actual seat on the opposite side of the room. 
“You can see your girlfriend after class,” Mr. Sunn commented in response to your friend losing the argument.
You weren’t his girlfriend, but neither you or JJ corrected him. You didn’t because frankly, you’d gotten your fill of attention. You weren’t sure why JJ didn’t, though. 
Besides, you weren’t totally against people thinking that. It was still weird having a teacher call you out like that, though.
The kid who had been waiting for JJ to vacate his seat gave you an apologetic look before turning his attention to pulling out a notebook.
You made eye contact with JJ across the classroom and he winked.
“Now that everyone is in their correct seat,” Mr. Sunn announced. “We can get started with class.”
Everyone turned to focus on Mr. Sunn going over the first day syllabus, except for Kie. You caught her looking at you and you met her eyes. She raised her brows as if to ask, “what was that?”
You shrugged, telling her that you didn’t know. It was true, you didn’t. 
After class, no one brought it up so you didn’t say anything about it either. You all went about your day and soon, the whole seat incident left your mind.
The next day you were reminded of it.
You arrived to history with Pope, chatting about the syllabus and what supplies you still needed to get. Kie was already in class. You said hi and then bye and headed to your seat. JJ was the last to show up, cutting it close again. You gave him a small wave, assuming you weren’t going to get to talk to him until after class.
Except, he walked right up to you and sat down next to you. 
You raised your brows at him. “What are you doing?”
“Well, hello to you too,” JJ acknowledged with a light chuckle. 
“He’s gonna tell you to move again,” you predicted. 
JJ shrugged it off. “Like some seating chart is gonna keep me away from my favorite girl,” he retorted in a playful tone. 
You smiled, ready to go along with his flirting. “Favorite, huh?”
He put his elbow on his desk and leaned on his hand. “What, you didn’t know that? I coulda swore I made it obvious.”
You hummed, ready to hit back with a sly comment. Until you were interrupted.
“Is this going to become a daily occurrence?” Mr. Sunn’s voice tore you and JJ away from the gaze you held. You both looked to the front of the class, where he stood watching you two. “I believe you know your correct seat, Mr. Maybank.”
“I forgot, actually,” JJ lied easily. “I’m pretty comfortable here, though.”
Mr. Sunn rolled his eyes and held back any indication that he found the situation as funny as you did. “I can’t have my students revolting,” he decided. He pointed to JJ’s assigned seat, waiting for him to move.
“It’s only 45 minutes, JJ,” you told him. “I think you can survive.”
“Fine, fine,” he told you and Mr. Sunn. He got up and moved to his seat. The boy that sat next to you came out of nowhere and took the seat. 
After class, you met up with your friends. You were about to walk with JJ to the hall where both your next classes were, but Kie decided something different.
“I gotta go to the bathroom,” she announced. “Y/N- come with me?”
Except you didn’t really feel like she was asking. 
“Um, sure,” you agreed and headed off with her in the other direction of the boys.
“Why do girls always do that?” JJ wondered, watching as the two of you turned a corner.
“Girls just do that,” Pope explained. “This time they’re going to talk about you, dude. For sure.”
“About me?” JJ furrowed his brows. “What about me?”
“About how you like Y/N and that it’s totally obvious now. To everyone.” 
JJ just shrugged. He thought everyone already knew. The only person he really wanted to know was you, but you never seemed to think he was serious. You always flirted back and that was fun, but maybe he had to up his game.
Oddly, no one brought up the seat incident yet again as a group. Kiara and Pope did observe you and JJ closer, but even if the flirting was a little more obvious, it didn’t go beyond that.
Next day in history, it was a repeat of the previous days.
“I’m starting to think you like me,” you joked to JJ when he sat down beside you.
“It took you this long?” he responded teasingly. You tried to not read into it, not wanting to get your hopes up. Not realizing that he was hoping you would read into it.
Mr. Sunn looked up from his desk when the bell for class to start rang. Immediately, as if in a force of habit, his eyes landed on you and JJ. Once again he would have to start the class period by telling JJ to move.
“You must have amnesia,” Mr. Sunn directed towards JJ. Everyone knew that, he didn’t have to say his name.
You and JJ exchanged a look and a small laugh. You’d gotten over any level of embarrassment that came from people chuckling and eyeing you and JJ. 
“Can’t you just make an exception?” JJ asked. He was bargaining but didn’t have anything to offer.
Kie threw a smirk over her shoulder at you, but you avoided eye contact. 
Yesterday she had spent the “bathroom” trip convincing you that JJ really did like you—as more than just a friend. She knew you liked him, but also knew you were avoiding telling JJ. You didn’t want to mess with your friendship by making what you had always assumed was just friendly banter into something awkward and feeling like an idiot for thinking it was some kind of signal if it wasn’t. 
If she hadn’t sworn to JJ that she wouldn’t tell you how he felt, she would have cleared it up yesterday. But of course you didn’t know that.
Mr. Sunn’s lips pulled into a tight line. You couldn’t tell if he was genuinely annoyed or amused. “If you’re next to her, how can I expect you to pay attention in class?” 
At that, the whole class chuckled. Even you. At least Mr. Sunn had a good sense of humor.
JJ blushed a little at that. You hadn’t seen him flustered like this in… well, it had been a long time. He couldn’t think of a comeback as quickly as he usually did. Too many seconds passed for him to recover, so he had no choice. 
JJ grabbed his backpack. “I’ll see you after class,” he promised. 
“You always do,” you replied just loud enough for him to hear as he stood. He shot you a smile before walking over to his assigned seat.
Class moved slowly, although at least the subject was mildly interesting compared to your other ones this semester.
When the bell rang, you waited for your friends and you all walked out of class together. 
“JJ, are you trying to get in trouble?” Pope asked, almost accusingly.
JJ scoffed out a laugh. “Don’t be dramatic, I’m not gonna get in trouble over a seat.”
“Interesting that you keep going for a seat that’s right next to Y/N,” Kiara mused in a knowing tone.
“Whatever you’re thinking, stop,” you told her, but not in a serious way. You and JJ flirted but you didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable by her comments, implying that there was more.
Turns out it was the opposite. You didn’t see the way JJ looked at you. You were focused on the eye roll Kie gave before saying bye and heading to her next class. Pope followed suit, leaving you and JJ to walk to your next classes together.
“Y’know, if Kie wants to think… that,” JJ started, referencing her very obvious implication. “Or if anyone else does… I wouldn’t mind.”
You stared up at him, a bit taken aback. You and JJ had always been close and flirted, and even though you had a crush on him and all your friends were convinced he had a crush on you, neither of you brought it up or confronted it. JJ was taking the first step.
“I wouldn’t mind either,” you admitted, smiling lightly. 
JJ looked surprised, then relieved. “Really?”
You only let out a small laugh, “I’ll see you later,” you told him. You were about to walk to your class further down the hall, but stuck around for a moment longer. “Tomorrow, just sit in your seat,” you suggested. “Mr. Sunn is a chill guy but it’s gonna be a long year if we start off annoying him.”
“We’re not annoying,” JJ faked offense. “But yeah, alright,” he relented. “I guess I’ll just have to stare longing across the class,” he teased.
Your smile grew. “Yeah, I guess so,” you replied smoothly. Then, you walked away towards your class.
“We’re still meeting up with Pope and Kie later, right?” JJ called after you.
“Yeah,” you called back, not looking over your shoulder.
You hung out with your friends later and gone about your day. You and JJ of course flirted, but nothing more than usual. Pope didn’t bring it up again and Kiara just shot you knowing smirks. 
Next day in Mr. Sunn’s class, much to your surprise, when JJ walked into class he gave you a light wave and continued on to his assigned seat. He was following your advice, which was a hard thing to get JJ to do. You looked over and realized he was standing near where his seat was. 
And that someone was already in it.
The guy who was supposed to sit by you was in JJ’s seat. Meaning there was an empty seat right beside you.
JJ looked over his shoulder at you and grinned. He waltzed over, suddenly in a much better mood.
“Is this seat taken?” he asked you cheekily.
You looked past him to see the guy in JJ’s seat. He gave you a shrug and a look that said, “you’re welcome.” You almost laughed. 
“I guess not,” you answered JJ, looking back at him with a smile of your own.
He sat down in the seat, victorious. 
Mr. Sunn walked in when class started and went to the board.
“I see my words mean nothing to you, Mr. Maybank,” Mr. Sunn said, spotting JJ.
A smirk crossed your friend's face. “Actually,” he started, perking up. “My seat was taken.” 
Mr. Sunn looked at JJ's actual seat and sighed. The kid looked a little guilty but didn’t say anything. He looked back at JJ. “Fine, you win,” he decided. Then, he began to write on the board. 
After class, you and JJ parted from Kie and Pope to walk together to your next class. 
“I can’t believe he finally gave in,” you said with a laugh.
“I can be persuasive,” JJ replied smoothly.
You let out another laugh. “That was not persuasive. That was…I don’t know what that was,” you admitted.
“Fine, but I got what I wanted,” JJ revealed. It was no surprise, but there was something underlying in his tone. 
“Hey, I’m not complaining,” you held your hands up in surrender. The two of you stopped outside of your class and faced one another.
A small smile tugged at his lips. “I would hope not.” 
“I’ll see you later,” you told him. “Don’t miss me too much,” you decided to add on. 
“Oh, baby, I always do,” he played along casually. 
Your face felt warm at the nickname, but you didn’t say anything more. When you all hung out later, the interaction played through your mind.
You were too distracted to realize JJ was staring at you all night—or at least that’s what Kie had told you later.
The next day in Mr. Sunn’s class, JJ was there before you. You couldn’t remember the last time he was ever in a class before you. You walked to your seat and he smiled up at you.
“Hi there,” you greeted, sitting down beside JJ. “For once you actually came to class early,” you pointed out. 
“Well, I had a reason to,” JJ replied with a smile. “I wanted to ask you something.”
You chuckled, thinking of a joke. “Do you need an alibi?”
“Ha ha,” he said sarcastically. “I’m serious though.” Your expression turned confused. “Not like, serious serious. Don’t look so worried.”
“Alright, what is it?” 
“After school today would you wanna hang out? Just me and you?” JJ asked with a hint of nervousness.
“We hang out all the time,” you started knowingly. “So if you’re asking…” you mused, suppressing a smile (you were having a hard time with that, though). “Is this you asking me on a date, JJ?” 
“Maybe,” JJ said with a tad of nervousness. “Would you want to?”
“Yeah,” you answered without hesitation. You could’ve held out longer and maybe messed with a little, but you decided against that.
JJ looked pleasantly surprised. “Really?”
In your head, you were beaming with excitement. Out loud you confirmed, “it’s a date.”
“Don’t let me interrupt,” Mr. Sunn called to you and JJ, interrupting. “But since it seems important, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind sharing with the class.”
“Well, I’ve got a date later, so that’s pretty great,” JJ practically bragged, not missing a beat. “As for how that goes, I don’t kiss and tell.” 
JJ shot you a wink after that, Kie and Pope looked over their shoulders so fast you thought their heads were gonna spin, and Mr. Sunn actually looked impressed.
“About time,” someone in the class spoke up. It was an unfamiliar voice. When you located the source, you found it was the boy in JJ’s old seat.
And what did you do? Well, all you could do was let out a laugh and share a smile with JJ.
You had a feeling this class was going to be much more fun now—although, maybe not as much fun as your date with JJ.
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moonchildstyles · 5 months
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For a possible smutty gravity blurb: maybe something they haven’t tried before?? Like maybe flower watches one of his streams or something and he’s talking abt some type of kink/situation they’ve never done before and she gets all nervous bc she wants to do that but she’s kinda insecure bc why is he talking about it on stream but not to me??? And so maybe there’s a wholesome communication moment butttttt they end up doing that thing:) idk just a thought hehehehe
cw: anal play involved!! if that makes you uncomfortable please skip :)
wordcount: 10.2k+
—————
The end of autumn chill swirled around (Y/N) in a fluttering gust, the ends of her hair being lifted along the sweeping breeze. Her nose felt chilled, among the elements, any bare swatch of skin prickled with goosebumps. Despite her hand being exposed to the elements, she didn't notice much of that cold with the way Harry had it wrapped in his own. Walking her out to her car, he swung their hands between them in a juvenile show of affection. Since he started, she hadn't been able to wipe the smile from her face. 
Looking up at him, seeing the tip of his own nose flushed with a chill to match that of his cheeks, her grin widened. He still had his glasses on from class, a heavy cardigan on his torso with his curls still a bit loose from his morning shower. 
"What?" he asked, glancing down at her with a wide smile, his dimples and bunny-like front teeth on display. 
"Nothing, just looking," she muttered through the curl of her lips, "You're working tonight, right?" 
"I am, yeah," he sighed, "Sorry." 
Creases pulled her brows into a furrow. "Why are you sorry? It's your job, don't be sorry." 
"I know," he drawled, the same way he always did when she had to remind him that there was no reason for guilt tied to his line of work. "But, I was wanting to spend time with you tonight instead." 
Bumping his shoulder, her gentle scolding tone melted, "You know, I could still come over." 
A shy flush bubbled to the surface of his cheeks, painting him a deeper shade of red than the wind could accomplish. "You'd distract me too much." 
"I think we could still get through," she teased, her voice lilting as she bumped her hip against his once more. 
"Maybe, another time, flower," he murmured, looking down at her with an expression she figured was better suited to the man on camera and not the physics tutor he was during the day. 
"Another time, then," she agreed, pushing back the sudden need to squirm as his eyes traced down her form. 
Approaching the parking lot, her car in the lucky space close to the building, (Y/N) pretended as if she didn't cut her pace to make slower strides. She wanted an extra couple of seconds with him, even if it meant walking like the people she complained about on campus between classes. 
"Did y'still want me to call you before bed?" 
"Yes, please," (Y/N) answered, "If you're not too tired, anyway." 
"Never too tired for you, love." 
Thinking back to the first days of knowing Harry, remembering the way he struggled to meet her eyes or would flush immediately when she said something as simple as his name, it was hard to compare him to the version that stood before her now. Openly flirting with her and agreeing to another time where she could sit in on one of his cam sessions and distract him for fun. It was no wonder she had never seen the obvious signs tying the camboy on her computer to her physics tutor. 
"Get home safe, yeah?" he murmured to her, stopping at the bonnet of her car. Using his hold on her hand he turned her to face him. 
"I'll text you," she smiled up at him, rising to her tiptoes for a moment to press her lips to his in a small kiss.
Harry chased after her, unwilling to let the kiss end just yet. He won his reward of an extra peck before she started pulling away. He'd been late to his afternoon classes one too many times after walking her back to her car, claiming he just wanted to make sure she made it there alright when they really ended up spending time kissing until his cheeks were flushed. 
"Go to class," she reprimanded him, drifting away from him towards her car. 
Keeping his hand clasped in hers, Harry elongated that contact until he couldn't anymore, his fingertips grazing hers before they dropped to his side. "Love you." 
"Love you, too, H. I'll see you tomorrow." 
A toothy grin spread across his cheeks as he looked at her, his eyes impossibly behind the lens of his glasses. "See you tomorrow.
She gave him a tinkling wave as she stepped into her car. He would stay there until he saw her pull out of the lot, keeping to his promise of ensuring she started her journey home safely (he knew too many statistics about driving accidents to freely let her go without being there in case of emergency, he'd said). But, even as she pulled out of the lot into the main road, she could see him in her rearview mirror, standing with his hands on the straps of his backpack, wide grin on his mouth. 
There was the tutor version of him again; the one that was soft and smiley, shy and wrapped in sweaters. She was going to have to tune into his stream tonight to get the other side of him.
—————
While tuning into Harry's shows were something that she always found fulfilling, there was something especially satisfying now that she knew who he was and knew him as more than just a faceless crooner. Though, she could admit, she still felt a bit shy when she logged in. 
However, it didn't take her long to sink into the night session when she tuned in after putting away her study materials for the night. Checking the time, she knew Harry would be in the middle of his stream then, the temptation too much to ignore before she was logged in and watching him as he cooed and moaned for the camera. 
By the time his screen was pulled up for her, his tip meter was already full and over the edge, his shirt off and his hand wrapped around his cock though his boxers were still on. She knew this routine—it was one of her favorites, anyway; he was in the mood to tease the audience tonight. He was going to coax them into begging for him, asking for more of daddy before he would be so inclined to give it. His chest was flushed a warm red, complimenting the black tattoos inked on his skin. Blocks of muscle were bunching and straining, his abs shining with a layer of sweat. The camera had almost everything in view, going as high up as to capture the line of his throat before cutting off at his jaw.
Plugging her headphones into her ears, she heard the labored sound of his breathing, the rich gravel of his town heavy on his tongue, and the slick sound of his fist passing over his length. 
She had her hands on her keyboard, reading to type something out for him to test if he had his eyes on the chat, but she stopped short when he resumed talking. He was detailing out a fantasy for them, one she had never heard fall from his lips before. 
"Would you like that, baby?" he asked, words drawling and dripping out of his mouth, "You'd let me try with you? You'd let me play with your cute little ass?" 
Just out of view of the camera, he threw his head back, his breathing labored. She could see the stretch of his neck, flushed with his Adam's apple bobbing. His hand on his cock quickened, his fist slapping against his skin. 
"You'd let me do that?" he continued, his voice completely breathless with his chest heaving, "Let me fuck you from the back and see where else you could take me? Play with you a little?" 
With a fluttering blink, (Y/N) couldn't take her eyes off of what her Harry was doing on screen. Though he'd never brought it up to her before, it didn't take much for her to picture what he was offering for the audience. 
She could be on her hands and knees for him, Harry kneeling behind her with his thighs smacking against the back of her own as his cock sank in and out of her pussy. Her heart was in her throat when she pictured him spreading her cheeks apart and thumbing at the second entrance he was speaking up, the second place she could "take" him like he said. 
Is that something he wanted? He wanted to play with her, see what else he could mold her body into doing for him, see what reactions he could garner from her? 
"You'd love it, sweetheart, I promise. I'd be so gentle, so gentle," he rambled, his voice sounding airy and lost the longer he sat with his fantasies. "I can put in a couple of fingers, show you how good it feels. I think I could make you cum like that. You want that?" 
Her designated nickname pricked her ears. He didn't even know she was tuning into the show yet, having been frozen since he started speaking with no comments in her name being sent through the chat yet. He was thinking of her?
The idea made her thighs tense, her stomach squeezing into a tight knot. 
There had never been a time in her life that she had considered allowing anyone to feel around anywhere other than her pussy, but the thought of Harry wanting to feel and touch her everywhere plucked at something in her. Leave it to him to make even the most unappealing of things into something she could see herself wanting. 
"Fuck you everywhere, sweetheart, that's what I want" he groaned, the pace of his hand on his cock causing the band of his underwear to slip low enough to show off his length. "Gonna cum jus' thinking about it." 
Sucking in a deep breath, (Y/N) listened to his breathing hitch and shudder, changing to match the heavy pace of his hand on his cock. He really was going to cum, that much she could tell. His abs were tight, skin flushed, and the base of his cock tight from the sliver of skin she could catch on screen. 
"C'mon, sweetheart, tell me you'd let me try with you. Let me have more of you."
 His chat was flooded with responses, going way too fast for (Y/N) to even attempt to concentrate on. She could imagine it was filled with the confirmations that he wanted, dirty promises that any of these audience members would spread open for him at any given moment. His tip meter had well exceeded the goal amount, the donations and tiny messages attached seemingly only urging him on. 
All (Y/N) could give her attention to was the amount of times he uttered her nickname, asking her if she'd let him try his fantasy with her. That he promised that he would make it good for his sweetheart, that he'd be as gentle as he could be when sinking his fingers in and fucking her everywhere he could reach. 
She felt as if she were out of her body, watching as he plucked down the band of his boxers. His heavy cock bounced up against his stomach before he caught it in his slick fist. His length was wet and flushed, precum pooling on the tip and dripping down his shaft. She was sure her mouth had dropped into a gape. This fantasy had elicited that kind of reaction from him. Her tummy tightened at the thought.
Though she was aware he was talking, spinning a story for his viewers to be entranced with, (Y/N)'s own head was spiraling around her own story. 
Would he help hold her hips up when she couldn't anymore? She already felt full enough with his cock inside her, how much more would she feel with him like that? With his stamina, how long would he have her buried against the mattress, opened up just for him? 
Before she could even be aware of the moment, she heard a familiar gasp in her headphones. Her eyes refocused on the screen, Harry's cock spurting with ropes of cum. Strings decorated his chest, slicking over his tattoos in milky pearls. He groaned, chest heaving with blushing skin. His throat was bobbing, the skin stretched with the very ends of his hair visible on the edge of the screen. She could picture his eyes closed, lavender eyelids fluttering with dark lashes. His mouth would be set into a gape, a pinch between his brows.
One of these days, she was going to end up going to his apartment after one of his streams. It wasn't fair that he was able to perform like that and she wasn't in his bed at the end of the night. 
Harry recovered soon enough, cleaning off his chest and giving his signature send off for the night. 
(Y/N) was still far from joining him in that headspace even when the screen blacked out, his page settling for the night. Her brain was still where he was describing his fantasy, where she could picture herself on all fours for him. 
Replacing her laptop lid and sliding the device away, she rolled onto her back in the folds of her comforter. Staring up at the ceiling, she attempted to gather her bearings. 
Now that more of the lust and the initial intrigue began to wane, she was left with a question. 
Why wouldn't he tell her about this? Obviously, he had quite the feelings towards this fantasy, given the fact he was so worked up, cumming before she even really had a chance to catch up. Why was his first choice to share this with strangers on his stream as opposed to telling her?
To be fair, it was a rather intimate dream, even more than what they usually did with one another. But, considering the details of their relationship—her being an avid viewer of his before knowing his identity, Harry being an active cam-personality, as well as the time they sexted with one another before even knowing who they were—there were very blurry lines when it came to what could be "too much". 
She hoped she had shown that she would be open to trying anything for him, just the same way he is with her. 
Their phone call tonight would be interesting.
—————
"Hi, flower."
Snuggled in her duvet, (Y/N) relaxed into the mattress at the sound of his voice. "Hi, H. What are you doing?" 
"About to fall asleep," he shared, his voice decidedly deeper than usual, "What about you, love? Y'get all your studying done?"
"Mhm," she hummed, casting her mind back to the hours before she tuned into his stream. They didn't seem so important compared to everything that happened after she slid her textbooks out of the way. Harry didn't even know yet that she had been present during the show, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to tell him. A part of her wanted to wait and see if he would broach the subject of everything without her having to bring it up. "How was your show?" 
"Short," he laughed, the sound a warm vibrato, "I got too worked up and barely made it through a half an hour." 
"Yeah?" she prodded, hoping to open up the conversation for him, "What happened?" 
"Jus' m'imagination running a little too wild," he sighed, paraphrasing everything she had already heard through her headphones, "Thought about you a little too much, of course." 
The timber of his voice fell as he spoke his last statement, enticing her through the phone as if that was a hard task for him to pull off. His voice was what paid half of his bills anyway—his body handled the other fifty percent. 
(Y/N) felt a tad on the breathless side when she spoke next, settling back into the way she had integrated herself into his story; she could still see herself on her hands and knees, spread open for him with whines falling from her lips. "What do you mean?" 
"You know what I mean, sweetheart," he drawled, the smug smile on his lips audible through the phone, "You've seen the shows; you know what I think about when it comes to you." 
It was hard not to get wrapped up in his words. Even with the small plan she had in her back pocket, this being her attempt to gather more information about the fantasy she shared with strangers on the internet, it was all too easy to fall into that soft, velvet coated space with him where his words were like silk and honey dripping over her skin. He knew exactly how to talk to her. 
"Yeah," she swallowed, closing her eyes with her cheek mushed against her pillow, "But, was something different about today?" 
Harry hummed as if he were considering her question. This would be the moment, she figured. This would be when he'd bring up the fact that he wanted to try something new with her, lay her out on his bed and take her in every way he could. 
"I jus' think I miss you, that's all," he told her, deflating that anticipation ballooning in her chest. "I feel like 's been a while since I've had you all to myself, don't you think?" 
Truthfully, they spent the entire weekend at his apartment, studying and working on papers in-between cuddles on the couch and romps in his bedroom. 
"I think, we had all weekend together," (Y/N) laughed, teasing him some as if she still wasn't itching for alone time with him. 
"I guess we did, huh," Harry joined in, "Jus' not enough for me then, I guess. You've spoiled me, now I'm always going to want more." 
That declaration pinged in the back of her mind. He wanted more, that's what he's said in the stream. He wanted more of what she had to give him. 
"I can do that," she answered instinctively, her voice a bit breathy over the line. 
"Yeah? Gonna keep spoiling me?" he teased, his demeanor decidedly much more light-hearted compared to the creeping in of lust into her tone. 
"I'll try." She'd try to be everything he wanted, she decided. She was going to be the place he indulged and shared those intimate stories with, not the internet. 
A soft sigh sounded on the other line. "Y'always do, flower," he crooned before a yawn cut him off, "'M about to fall asleep, love, 'm sorry." 
"Don't be sorry," she rushed out, feeling guilty now that she's trying to extract information from him when he started the call telling her just how sleepy he was, "Go to sleep and I'll see you tomorrow, right." 
"See you tomorrow," he confirmed, his voice heavy and dripping, "Love you." 
"Love you, too, H. Goodnight." 
Harry shared a final goodnight with her before the call ended with (Y/N) left in her lonely bedsheets and the new facet of him she learned today. 
Her eyes shuttered to a close as she sunk into the silence of her bedroom. She hadn't been lying when she said that she would try to do that—be that—for him. Why he didn't tell her in the first place, wasn't something she could dwell on at the moment. She needed to focus on plucking up the courage to do what she promised. 
—————
"I'm still coming over tonight, right?" 
Harry's smile bloomed over his lips, dimples deep in his cheeks. "Of course," he murmured, dipping his head down through the open window of her car to press a kiss to the apple of her cheek, "Should jus' live there, if you ask me." 
(Y/N)'s own lips were curled into a soft smile as she looked up at him. This wasn't the first time nor would it be the last time she heard of this want of his. "We'll see," she settled, "Let me know when you're back then I'll head over." 
"I will," he smiled, pressing another delicate kiss to her mouth before pulling away. "I love you." 
"I love you, too," she cooed, "I'll let you know when I make it home." 
He murmured a small thank you against her skin before pulling away. He waved a goodbye at her as he stepped back from her car, giving space for her to pull out of the parking lot. 
Flicking her gaze to the rearview mirror, Harry nothing more than a cardigan covered figure that grew blurrier and blurrier until she took the turn to leave him out of her sight, (Y/N) could feel her heart rate spike. 
She had a plan. The idea of setting it in motion elicited that nervous excitement in her. All she wanted was for it to go along without a hitch, and spend a special night with Harry. 
When she laced this whole thing together the night before, she decided that when she went over that night, she wouldn't even really address what she had heard him say in the stream. She would initiate everything, pushing a little bit for the taboo idea he had shared, telling him that she wanted to try something new with him. She would tell him that she wanted to give more of herself to him. 
It wouldn't take too much convincing, she figured. She already knew he had quite the affinity towards the idea of trying out both of her entrances. All she had to do was frame it with all the confidence she could muster. 
And, maybe a cute set of lingerie she had bought with him in mind. 
—————
The soft sound of lips parting and coming together once more filled Harry's apartment, the television screen a plain black as (Y/N) didn't want to waste time playing pretend with a movie night or watching an episode of their show. Instead, she didn't take much time before she was climbing atop his lap on the couch, her thighs astride his hips and Harry's hands on her waist.
"Sweetheart," he sighed into her mouth, his grip on her waist tightening as if she would slip away without him, "I've missed you." 
(Y/N)’s own hands cradling his jaw, thumbing at the planes of his cheeks. Tipping her head in an effort to deepen the kiss, her tongue sweeping across his own, her nose the side of his own. "I missed you too, daddy." 
She could feel the way his title affected him, his cock hard and heavy against her own core. He used his hold on her as leverage to help grind her down against him, (Y/N) practically able to feel the ridge of his head and the pulse of his heart through the thin fabric of her shorts. His grey sweats left little to the imagination. 
"Say it again." 
Moaning into his mouth, a crease knitted her brows the further she sunk into the moment. This was her chance, she was vaguely aware of. She was so ready for him, she lacked those nerves that came with vulnerability and she doubted Harry would be self-conscious enough to deny any indulgence into his fantasies. 
"Daddy," she moaned, leaning into him that much more. 
Snaking a hand down his form, (Y/N) followed the line of his shoulder down to his forearm. She reached to grab at his wrist before guiding his hand down lower on her body. Harry pliantly let her move him until they reached the full of her ass, the plush skin denting under Harry's fingertips. She pressed back against him, encouraging him to grab and play with her just like he said he wanted. 
Harry was all but melting between her thighs. His kissing was growing lax and heavy, his tongue playing with her own in languid strokes. His heartbeat was racing but there was no urgency in the way he handled her. He luxuriated in every touch, every stroke, every grab. 
It didn't take long for him to bring his other hand down to match the first, gripping her bottom in the span of his palms. Her skin felt flush everywhere he touched her, making it easy for her to push back against his hands and urge him to take the more he had been searching for. 
"What's gotten into you?" he murmured, his voice heavy and watered down through the interrupting kisses. "Not that I don't like it, but you're being different, sweetheart." 
To his credit, she was definitely going out of her way and initiating more, asking for more, doing more than she ever had before. She was always perfectly content with Harry calling the shots and sinking into that persona he felt comfortable in when it came to the bedroom. While she wasn't planning on taking that power from him tonight, she still had an end goal in mind that she was willing to guide him into meeting her at. 
"Sorry," she answered, taking her lips to the corner of his mouth as they caught their breath, "I can stop. I just didn't realize how much I missed you, that's all." 
"No, no, don't slow down," he urged her, pulling her flush against him with his hands on her ass, "Jus' want you to talk to me. What do you want? What do you want daddy to give you?" 
Traveling down his neck, her lips never left his skin as she dragged a string of kisses over the slope of his throat. "I want to try something new," she whispered, hiding in his neck as she spoke. 
"New?" he clarified, his voice vibrating through his throat, "What do you mean, hm?" 
Was there a pretty way to phrase what she was going to ask for? (Y/N) wasn't sure, but she was going to try her best. As lusty as she was, she still was a little too shy for the more vulgar of phrases.
Instead, she pressed her bottom back against his palms, the ridges of his palms and the digits of his fingers could be felt through her sleepover shorts. "I want more of this," she told him, nose skimming his hairline with her eyes shuttered closed. "Inside." 
All at once, clarity seemed to move into Harry. 
Shifting his hold on her, one palm returned to the curve of her waist and the other landed on the back of her neck. He drew her away from her hiding place, forcing her to meet his gaze. 
The lush green of his eyes had been depleted into something dark and foresty, a thin ring around a dilated pupil. 
Fluttering her eyes in a blink, she dropped her gaze down to the swollen pillows of his lips. "Why'd you stop?" 
A lopsided curve tugged at the corner of his lips. His hand on the back of her neck shifted until he was cradling her jaw in his palm, thumbing at dip under her chin. "Wanted to talk to you for a second, that's all." 
Her heartbeat sped up in her chest, though no longer because of the lust she had feathering through her veins. "About what?" 
Amusement flickered through his gaze. "About what y'jus' said to me." 
Underneath her, Harry looked every bit the boy she had met in her physics course, the one that was too shy to meet her eyes and overly apologetic any time he had to scoot past her. He was the one that had tutored her through the toughest lectures and exams, willing to take his time and teach her things she wouldn’t have understood without him. She remembered him with flushed cheeks and chunky glasses, always warm under a heavy cardigan and a shy smile. 
But, he wasn't acting like that boy. He was acting like the performer he was on screen. He was coaxing and teasing her, easing her into spilling her guts and cumming for him the second he requested as much. It wasn't fair; he was too cute, making her feel so safe to let go and be whatever she wanted to be, but entirely too hot to let her hand a clear head. 
When she didn't answer, the cam performer continued, "Y'said y'wanted more of this, right?" He emphasized his question with the hand on her waist sliding down until he was warming the curve once more, fingers denting the soft flesh.
With a flutter of her lashes, (Y/N) gave a quiet nod of her head. 
Harry hummed at her nonverbal answer. He tipped his chin and pressed a small kiss to her lips. It was a distraction as he led both his hands to sit on her bottom. This time, he made a point of sliding them under the hem of her shorts, skin to skin. 
"What did y'mean by inside, flower?" 
(Y/N) bought herself time by pressing another lingering kiss to his lips. There was that bashfulness rearing its head once more. She would have to tap into his confidence if he wanted her to be blunt. 
"You know," she murmured as if that were a real answer. 
"Do I?" he prodded, smiling into their kiss, "Because I think it sounds like y'want me to play with your cute little ass. Is that right?" 
Her chest expanded with a shuddering breath. "Uh-huh." 
Buttoning his mouth against hers one more time, he shared a quick kiss with her before pulling away. His pupils were still dilated and warm, but something was decidedly softer when his gaze met hers. 
"Is that why y'seem so nervous, right now?" 
(Y/N) clammed up at his words. He wasn't supposed to be so observant. 
"I'm not nervous," she argued, her hands falling to the planes of his chest. 
"Yes, you are," he countered, just as sweet as he smiled up at her, "And that's okay. I jus' want to know where your heads at. I didn't know y'ever wanted something like this." 
She shrugged, dropping her eyes to where her hands rested on his chest. She could feel the hard muscle underneath the soft fabric of his top. "I only want to try it with you." 
"Yeah?" he said, sounding a little too cocky to be safe, "And why y'didn't y'tell me before?" 
Before she could think much better of it, the adrenaline and endorphins in her system doing their job, (Y/N) fired back, "Why didn't you tell me?" 
She watched as Harry's brows creased at her words. "What do you mean, love?" 
Floundering over her words, (Y/N) knew she couldn't stop here. She had already started, there was no way of stopping in the middle of it all. "I saw your stream the other night," she blurted out, getting it out of the way and off of her chest, "The one where you talked about this stuff." 
Realization dawned on him then. "I didn't know y'were listening to that one." 
"I was going to comment or say something so you knew I was there," she explained, "But I had come in halfway through and you were already talking, and I've just never heard you talk about wanting that before. I was... surprised."
"Bad surprised or good surprised?" 
"Good surprised," she admitted, peeking at him through her lashes, "But, a little bit bad surprised because I had to hear about it through a stream and not from you." 
Adjusting his hold on her, Harry held her with an arm looped around her middle with his other hand still warming her jaw. Hugging her to his chest, she had no choice but to look up at him and meet his eyes. "I wasn't trying to keep anything from you, you know." 
"I know," she reasoned, understanding that part of his job was that it was an outlet for some of the more vulnerable things he hadn't admitted aloud yet, "But it sounded like you were talking about me, and when we talked later you said you were thinking about me while you were streaming. If I hadn't been watching, though, I still wouldn't have known." 
He took in her every word, listening to what she had to say before speaking. "I don't want to push you too far, that's all. I like what we have—I like making love to you,"—the phrase always brought a smile to his face when he said it, especially when (Y/N) grew shy—"and I didn't want it to be any different."
Pursing her lips, (Y/N) attempted to understand what he was getting at. "So, you don't actually want to? It was just a stream thing?"  
"Oh, no," Harry stopped her, a huff of his laughter fanning across her skin, "I definitely want to, trust me. I want you to want it too, and not jus' because y'feel like it would make me happy." 
"I feel like we do a lot of things because we know it makes each other happy, though," she started, maneuvering her arms until they were looped around his neck with her fingers edging into his hairline on the nape of his neck, "I don't think that's a bad thing as long as we're both comfortable, right?" 
"You do watch scary movies with me," he smiled, drawing a small breath of laughter out of her lungs, "But this is a little different, don't you think? I don't want to do anything with your body that you're not one hundred percent excited for. 'M only happy if you are too." 
Rolling her lips between her teeth, she leaned into his hand on her jaw. "I am excited, though—I want to do this. I just wish you had told me first." 
"Me too," he smiled, "Promise I wasn't trying to hide anything from you, I was only trying not to scare you." 
"I know," she murmured, turning her face until she pressed her lips into a small kiss against his palm, "I'm not scared—you already promised you'd be gentle." 
His grin widened at her reference to his stream, surely remembering his own fantasy in detail now that she was offering it up. "I did, didn't I?"
 "Mhm," she hummed, using that hold she had around his neck to draw him nearer, "You said a lot of things." 
"And, you liked it." 
"I did," she confirmed, the tip of her nose grazing his, "You don't make it sound scary or gross, or anything?" 
"Yeah?" he laughed, tipping his chin until he could press a tiny peck to her lips, "How do I make it sound?" 
"Really hot," she admitted, "I forgot everything I studied about as soon as I started listening to you." 
Harry gave a disapproving hum, teasing her. Resting the pad of his thumb against the full of her lips, he kept her from kissing him again, leaving her to listen as he spoke. "We'll have to work on that again later then, won't we? Go to the library again for some motivation?" 
The reminder of the time they had gone to the library and Harry helped her through that mental block with his hand between her legs was enough to get her squirming in his lap once more. He had to know exactly where her mind had gone when she saw his grin stretch his dimpled cheeks. 
"But, I should probably take care of you now," he mused, finally slipping his thumb from her lips as he smeared a kiss across her pout. "Y'deserve it for being so patient and talking to me about what you want." 
"I do," she absently agreed, melting into him. She was willing to take whatever he would give. 
(Y/N) indulged in the pillow of his lips, parting her mouth and taking the taste of him across her tongue. It was easy to slip back into that place with him, where her thoughts were wisps and her desires were candles lit aflame. His cock was still heavy in his lap, right where her core was resting with spread thighs, his lips still swollen, and skin still warm. 
"I love you," he murmured on a breath, breaking away though he didn't stray too far from her with his forehead resting on hers, "Let's go to bed, sweetheart." 
She let out a dreamy okay, following after him once he had her settled on her feet, back towards his bedroom. They didn't bother to close the door behind them, in too much of a rush before Harry was roughly handling her to be tossed amongst the folds in his bedding. 
A bright peal of laughter fell from (Y/N)'s lips at the act, her eyes creasing and cheeks split wide. Harry climbed his bed with a matching smile, hovering over her. 
"So pretty, you know that," he crooned, dropping a kiss on the apple of her cheek before he began his own pathway across her skin. He followed the soft planes of her face, grazing her eyelids and the bridge of her nose. (Y/N) couldn't help the soft breaths of laughter that followed the more affection he piled on her. 
"You're pretty," she answered through her smile, placing her hands on his cheeks to keep him from straying too far once he finally rested on her lips. 
A sly smile on his mouth kept her from getting a real kiss from him. He was bubbling up with something, she was sure. 
"I know," he teased, "You think 'm pretty enough to play with your cute butt, so." 
"Don't say it like that," she whined though her complaint held no grit through her toothy smile. She made a halfhearted attempt at pushing him away, though Harry stayed right where he was above her. 
"Am I wrong? I seem to remember a certain conversation we had just a minute ago." 
She didn't bother to answer him, instead smushing her lips against his in a silencing kiss. It was a bit off center, not quite matching up with her nose smushed against his cheek, but that didn't matter much to either of them. Harry happily fell into the contact without a single complaint.
Soon enough the silly kiss had melted into something serious, warm and languid. He laid heavily between her legs, his cock straining against his sweats with her loose shorts doing little to cover herself. His chest was pressed against hers, heartbeats side by side with every breath marked by the extra push of his blocky muscles against her breasts. 
By the time her breath was taken from her lungs, Harry pulled away first. He skimmed his kiss-swollen lips over her skin until he was hovering by her ear. "Y'really want to try it out tonight?" 
It didn't take a second thought before she was nodding her head.
"We'll go slow, (Y/N)," he cemented, pulling away to match her eyes intensely, "Jus' tell me to stop if you change your mind." 
"I will," she answered, knowing he wouldn't move on until he had that verbal confirmation from her, 
He gave her a pleased smile before he dipped down and pressed another small kiss to her lips. "Flip over for me, sweetheart." 
The flames in her stomach pitched into a bonfire at his command. That had been exactly what she was picturing. Harry gave her space to roll onto her tummy, helping her move until she was on her knees with legs spread and cheek pressed against his pillow. 
"This alright?" he checked in, dragging his warm hands down the backs of her thighs. 
She nodded with a pleasant smile on her mouth. "This is how I pictured it," she murmured.
Harry's touch solidified at her words, less glancing fingertips and more weight on his palms as he caressed her skin and felt every inch of the plush fullness. "You pictured it?
Her ribcage practically rattled against her heartbeat as he started pulling down her shorts and panties. He helped her navigate pulling them off of her bent legs and ankles with the way her mind was too preoccupied. Why didn't she just show up naked? It would have made this so much easier. 
"Uh-huh," she breathed, answering his question, "I-I wasn't sure what you had in mind, but I hoped it was like this." 
Harry hummed, bending down to press a kiss to the small of her back. He pushed the hem of her loose shirt up, revealing more and more of her skin though they were both too in a rush to take the time to completely undress her. Soon enough, Harry's shirt joined her shorts and underwear on the floor, his sweats and boxing being all that clothed him for the moment. 
"I have lots of ideas, sweetheart," he murmured, starting a path of planted kisses on the hills of her spine. "We'll only get through a couple today, but if y'like it, we can try so much more." 
The promise that there was more he wanted to show her, more times that she would be wrapped in his sheets, more of him that she would accept without a doubt, was enough to get her pussy fluttering. 
Going down the line, Harry started kissing over the globes of her bottom, delicate sweeps of his lips over the sensitive skin. She couldn't help the goosebumps that touched her skin, unfamiliar with the feeling of anything other than his strong hands skimming this part of her. 
"Gonna eat you out first, okay, flower?" he crooned, his words fanning out across her skin, "We'll start there, and we'll see how you feel." 
"Okay, Harry," she sighed, trusting him from where she lay with her cheek squished into the pillow and eyes fluttering to a close. The only thing she didn't love about this position: she couldn't see him. 
A beat later, she could feel the warmth of his breath fan across her core. She tensed some at the surprise, feeling her insides squeeze knowing that he was that close. She only had enough time to register that exhale before the flat of his tongue was licking through her wetness. Her own breath was sucked out of her lungs at the first touch against her clit, her folds being spread wide open around the width of his tongue. 
Sagging towards the bed, she arched her back that much more for him, presenting any and everything for him. Harry wrapped his hands around her thighs, palms warming the tops while his fingers wrapped around to the side insides and dented the delicate skin. His grip was steadying as he pointed the tip of his tongue and explored her opening, her walls pulsing. 
An all too smug breath of laughter fell from his lips when he pulled away. "Feeling good, sweetheart? Tell me." 
"So good, H," she bubbled immediately, no other thoughts attempting to take over at the moment. 
"Who?" he pressed, his hands on her thighs tightening though he didn't dip back down to her pussy like she wanted. 
"So good, daddy," she corrected, all but keening into him, hoping she gave the right answer and would feel more of him sliding through her folds and tasting her wetness. 
"That's better, sweetheart," he praised her.
With that, Harry's tongue was once more slipping through her wetness. He smeared his tongue across her core, taking in everything she had to offer while leaving a mess behind, comprised of both her slick and his saliva. Wet sounds filtered through his bedroom, along with the heady breathing coming from her and the contented noises coming from Harry. 
By the time (Y/N) had her slick covering her thighs, enough wetness to make her worry she was going to start dripping over his bed (though, seeing as how he enjoyed making her squirt, she doubted he would have minded), Harry began focusing his tongue over her pulsing entrance. More and more slick wept from her hole as he pointed the tip and slipped inside amongst her tight walls. She shuddered at the feeling, her breathing hitching as she attempted to bring in a deep breath. 
Before she could even register that she was missing contact on her clit, his fingertips were pressing against the bud. Tight circles were drawn around the top of her slit, her legs beginning to shake now that there was so much moire to focus on but less room in her brain to spare. He kept his other hand steady on her thigh, keeping her from falling while simultaneously being her grounding anchor. 
Her wetness dipped down his fingers, tainting his palm with a thin glimmer. Harry pulled away for a heartbeat, his breathing heavy. She could imagine the shine on his chin and nose, the flush to his cheeks, and the way he would be staring at her with intensity in his eyes. She could feel that heated gaze as his fingers trailed through her messy slit. 
When he reached her hole, he lingered for only a second before he was skipping upwards. Though (Y/N) knew this was coming, she still felt her heart skip a beat, her breathing shatter as she waited with bated breath.
He brought his slick fingers to her second entrance. In an instant, (Y/N) felt herself tense up, the foreign feeling shocking her. 
"'S alright, flower," Harry crooned to her, his words fanning across the rounded globes of her ass, "Jus' relax. 'S only me, and 'm going to be gentle, remember?" 
"I remember, I remember," she muttered in a rambling blurt. Honestly, if she had been asked what exactly she was remembering at that moment, she wouldn't have been able to give a straight answer. 
Working her through that initial shock, Harry circled his slick fingers around the puckered skin, delving his tongue back into her pussy to give her something familiarly fantastic to cling to. Her legs took as she took in the duo of feelings, her clit being laved over by his tongue with a part of her she never thought could be stimulated now pulling the breath from her lungs.
"Still feeling good, love?" he asked, drawing away for just long enough to ask before he was licking through her folds once more. 
It didn't take a second thought before she was breathing out, "Uh-huh, uh-huh." 
There was nothing else for her to say—especially if she wanted to sound coherent. Though it was still odd, the feeling of his wandering fingers, every pass of his fingertips over the tight opening had a pulse ringing through her insides. The flames in her stomach were tight and warm, coiling into a burn. 
"I knew you'd like it, sweetheart," he mumbled against her pussy, "Told you I'd be gentle. Jus' wanna open you up a little for me to fit a finger in, is that okay?" 
(Y/N) felt her eyes squeeze to a shut, creases knitting her brows together. "It's okay," she breathlessly answered, half-parroting his words back to him as that was all she could process in the moment. 
A groan rumbled through Harry's chest, the sound vibrating over her core. "You want that? Want me to finger your tight little ass, love?" 
Until Harry, those words would have turned her off, had her curling in on herself and ending whatever encounter had gone south, but hearing the vulgar request in his dulcet tone, rounded with lust, had both her entrances pulsing around nothing. 
"Tell me you want it, sweetheart." 
"I want it, daddy," she breathed out, a short whine cutting her off when he thumbed at her slick rim, trying to spread her open just like he said, "Please." 
"You're doing so good, my love," he murmured, dropping a kiss to the sensitive crease just between her thigh and the slick spread of her core. "'M going to give you everything y'want. I jus' need you to relax." 
Bringing her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) sagged towards the mattress. She thought she had been relaxed, easing into everything and welcoming his touch. "I-I'm trying," she whined, "I thought I was doing good." 
"You are, flower, I promise," he soothed her, another kiss to the slick skin, "Y'might be thinking about it too much, that's all. Y'need a distraction, don't you?" 
(Y/N) didn't want to be distracted from a single touch he gave her, if she was being honest. She wanted to feel everything, know where his hands were, and find what she liked most. But, she supposed she might be too aware of every graze of his fingers, her body instinctively tensing and moving. 
"I think you do, sweetheart," Harry continued when he didn't get a response. 
The bed shifted behind her then, his hand stilling on her backside before she could feel his hips pressing against her ass. His thighs were lined up against her own with his hard cock sliding through the wetness of her folds. 
A gasp fell from her lips, the tip of his heavy prick nudging her clit. She felt her insides pulse, including the already tight hole he was trying to work open. She keened back against him, slicking his shaft and the trimmed patch of hair at the base. 
Smug laughter sounded behind her, Harry sounding much too pleased with himself and the reaction he could garner from her. 
"Stay still for me, love," he instructed her, "'M gonna help you." 
The steadying hand he had placed on her hip disappeared then, instead fisting at his cock before he was nudging the head into her entrance. Slick with both his saliva and every weep of her wetness, he slid in with no problems, a wet slap sounding once he bottomed out. (Y/N) reveled in the familiar feeling of fullness, completely spread wide open for his cock to push through her tight walls. She could feel the ridge of his head, the length of his veins, the slight curve that aimed him perfectly at the soft spot on her walls. 
She would never be used to the depth he reached in her, remembering the way he had teased such a thing on a stream before they even knew one another. She had figured it was nothing more than fantasy talk back then, something to get his viewers going as well as feed into something Harry could cum to. Now, she knew that was all very much the truth, feeling the stretch in her own body as if he were nudging as deep as her stomach. 
"Better, sweetheart?" he muttered, rearing his hips back before thrusting forward. He kept her on balance with his hand returning to her hip. Slick noises erupted around his cock as he sunk in, his hips slapping against her thighs. 
The pads of his fingers circled her back entrance through his distraction, though her attention had trouble splitting between his heavy cock and the foreign touch. She could feel the way he did his best to gently spread her open, easing her into being able to take one of his thick fingers.
"B-Better, daddy," she cried, reaching blindly for this hand on her hip. She needed something gentle and familiar, she decided. 
Harry welcomed her innocent touch, lacing their fingers together over the full of her hip together though her hold was decidedly looser given the monumental distractions she was going through. 
"Good," he huffed, matching that of a particularly hard thrust he gave. 
In that same moment, (Y/N) could feel the tip of one of his fingers slide inside her untouched opening. She gasped, mouth dropping open into a gape. 
It was more startling than anything, the small intrusion causing her body to tense up. 
"No, don't do that, sweetheart," Harry gently scolded her, keeping the pacing of his hips as he fucked her pussy, "Stay relaxed for me. You're doing so good, no need to be scared." 
She wanted to listen to him, she really did, but she didn't know how to relax. All she could manage was closing her eyes, flexing her fingers around his own, and focusing on the familiar parts of his touch. She tried to right her breathing, fix the uneven shuddering and replace it with something steady and consistent. 
"That's so much better, sweetheart," he cooed, dropping down to press a kiss to her shoulder, "Keep going, love. 'S jus' me." 
While she didn't feel as if she were relaxing any considering how tightly wound her tummy was and the pulsing of her walls, she was happy to hear that she was easing up for him. Her efforts increased tenfold when that same slick finger pushed deeper inside of her, the knuckle of his digit catching before he could go further. 
(Y/N) couldn't have prepared for how full she felt with his cock running through her walls and the small intrusion of his finger in her backside. The pace of her breathing she had tried to curate, the even intakes and exhales, was thrown out the window the second she allowed herself to take in the full breadth of that feeling. 
She could feel him everywhere: the slap of his thighs against the back of her own, his hand in hers, his cock spreading her open, and his finger venturing into her ass for the first time. 
There was no room in her head for anything but him; no wispy thoughts or anything that could form coherent words. She was drifting through his bedsheets as he did as he pleased with her. 
With her attention only on him and he he felt, she could feel the twitch of his cock through her walls, everything stretched so tight around him. He barely stroked his finger through her back entrance, pulling it out the smallest amount before pushing back through. He was curating two opposing rhythms, leaving a part of him inside her at all times. 
The thought had a broken moan leaving her lips.
"Fuck, you're so hot, baby," Harry muttered, the burn of his gaze trapped on her ass, "Gonna make me cum just from seeing my finger in your ass." 
"I-I—" she floundered, unsure of where her mind was as well as the moisture in her throat, "I-I want—daddy." 
A particularly harsh thrust was delivered, the bones of his hips pressing hard into her thighs. Another tiny bit of his finger sunk into her backside, enough to have (Y/N)'s back arching. 
"What do you want from daddy, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice strained and thin. His composure was waning. 
What did she want from him? What else could he give her that she wasn't already reveling in?
"C'mon, love," he coaxed, though his voice was decidedly harsher than she'd heard it before, "Don't go dumb on me yet. I still wanna hear my smart girl talk to me." 
If he thought that would help clear her mind, he was sorely mistaken when she felt another gush of her wetness seep around his cock, her clit throbbing, and walls pulsing around everything inside. He could barely move his finger though the fact that she was aware it was inside was just as effective as feeling him slide through her virgin opening.
"Oh," he sighed, bottoming out with hard and fast thrusts against her, "You liked that, my love? I'll have to remember that, won't I?" 
"Uh-huh, uh-huh." (Y/N) nodded her head with only half of her attention on what he was saying. 
He pulsed his hand around her own, keeping her steady and with him. "We'll have to save that for next time though, sweetheart. I think you're about to cum with daddy, right?" 
That was what she had wanted. The last thing he could give her was his release landing across the backs of her thighs. She could only blindly nod against the pillow, her hair sure to be a mess by the time she would actually start to care about anything other than her lust-filled body. 
"I can't last much longer, love," Harry started, his words emphasized with the way he had to grit them out, "But, I need you to cum first. Wanna see you cum with your pussy and ass filled with me. Make me proud, sweetheart." 
For (Y/N), time stopped right there. All that she was aware of was the man at her back and the perfect ribbon in her tummy that had unraveled in the most spectacular of fashion. Her mouth dropped open to a silent gape, nothing coming out given the fact she couldn't take any air in. Her head was cloudy and warm, matching the rest of her body. Points of clarity came in the form of Harry's hand on her hip, the tap of his balls against her clit, and the sharp unfamiliarity of the stretch of her second entrance. 
That was the only reason she was aware of the fact he had pulled out. She mourned the loss of him inside her—in both places—until she felt him cum against her pussy, warm ropes sticking to her skin. The mess between her legs was now a perfect miss of the both of them, dripping down the inside of her thighs.
Aftershocks came in the form of lingering spurts from Harry, and (Y/N)'s walls pulsing around nothing. She couldn't be sure when she returned to the land of the living, but when the details of Harry's room came back into focus, she swore her vision was sharper. There was a joke about good sex there, something about Harry being her cure-all, but there was no way she could even attempt a tease at the moment. 
She knew Harry was with her once more when he dropped down to press a set of kisses on the small of her back. His hands were on her hips, one still holding tightly to her own, while the other kept her steady as she began to lose her balance and sink towards his bed.
"You with me, (Y/N)?" he murmured against her skin, his voice gruff.
Flexing her fingers in his as a response, (Y/N) gave a small nod. "I'm here." 
"Oh, love," he sighed, draping himself over her back, his lips pressing to the line of his jaw and soft of her cheek, "You did so good, I love you so much. Did that feel alright? I didn't hurt you right?" 
"No, no, I felt really good," she breathed, a soft chord of laughter swaying out amongst her words, "I think I almost blacked out." 
"Oh?" he sounded, his own peals of laughter following right after, "In a good way, right?" 
Letting go of his hand, (Y/N) brought it up to pat at his cheek. "In a good way." 
"Good," he crooned, pressing a gentle kiss to the palm of her hand before he started extracting himself from her. "I'm gonna get some things to clean us up, 'kay? Stay right here." 
He must think he's so funny, she thought, but she didn't have it in her to play his back and forth at the moment. He could win this round.
By the time Harry returned with wet cloths and a pair of his shorts for her to borrow, all of the slick release coating her core and the inside of her thighs had cooled. It was an uncomfortable feeling that he took his time wiping away. He eased up around her sensitive spots, apologizing with kisses to the backs of her thighs and promises to be gentle. 
"Did y'really like it, (Y/N)? Everything we did?" Harry asked after a moment, wiping down the insides of her thighs. 
She bit at the full of her bottom lip, unsure of how to articulate what she had experienced. "It felt weird," she started, unable to find any other word to describe how she felt, "But, I liked it—a lot. I think it helped since it was you, and I love you, but it was... good." 
"Jus' good? I thought y'said you almost blacked out?" 
Blindly swatting behind her, she landed her hand in the soft swirls of his hair. She playfully pulled at the strands. "I'm too tired to play right now, stop," she laughed.
Her reprimanding hold of his hair turned into gentle carding through the curls as he took care of her. A beat passed, Harry finishing cleaning her up before he helped her into her borrowed shorts. Collapsing onto his bed, her back bouncing over the springs, she figured laundry, including the clothes on the floor, would have to wait for now.
Hovering above her, Harry looked to her with his clear green eyes—the same ones she had seen that first time in her physics class after he had taken a leap and took the seat beside her. She would be eternally grateful he had the confidence to do as much, otherwise she would have never learned just how many greens were in his irises.
"Really," he started out, voice gentle and quiet like a secret, "'M really happy y'felt good. It obviously worked very well on me too." 
(Y/N)'s lips turned into an amused smile as she reached up and pushed back the flop of curls covering his forehead. "See, this is why you tell me things like this first—not the stream." 
It was a lighthearted tease that had his mouth splitting into a smile, bunny teeth and dimples on display. He dropped his head to press an innocent kiss to the tip of her nose, though it wasn't quite as effective through his smile. 
"I've definitely learned my lesson, flower," he murmured.
(Y/N) could only tip her chin and press her lips to his. 
—————
this is.....very different SHFUSHFSUH thank u sm for reading, thank you to whoever requested, sorry for any mistakes and if theres any other ideas anyone else wants to see please send them in!
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allfearstofallto · 2 months
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College au is so delicious bc you can have Childe having to deal with the fact that you don't like him. Whether it be his sus vibes or how...dead his eyes look, you just don't like him. So you avoid him like the plague to save the both of you from any trouble.
But the thing is, he likes you and he's sure he can make you feel the same way about him. You'll come around, he's sure of it.
Just Childe engaging in pest behavior is all I can think about for this au
-🐇
Writing Childe without his power and assets is so goddamn challenging, but also so fun!
He's such a pest though. That pretty face can get him so damn far, I'm sure of it. I have to think about how easily I fell for Childe before it was revealed that he was super fucking evil, so obviously it wouldn't be hard for him to develop a pretty powerful influence with enough smiles.
Childe <3
College AU
Yandere! Childe x Fem! Reader
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You don't like Ajax? Or Childe as they called him. A stupid nickname, but one he apparently earned. Where he got it from to even who he was, you truly didn't care. You didn't like him and apparently that was a problem with everyone, but you.
You were okay with not having a relationship with him. The campus was big enough where you didn't have to see him if you didn't want to and you both studied different majors, although you put more time and effort into your study. He spent most of his energy on being the life of the party.
People didn't understand why you didn't like Ajax, apparently just saying that you found him creepy wasn't enough of an answer.The Ajax who made an effort to always invite you out? The Ajax who always wanted to walk you to and from classes even though you never told him your schedule? The Ajax who was the only person to buy you gifts for Valentine's, heart shaped, lavish chocolates and a bouquet bigger than your head, even though you weren't romantic with him? The Ajax that called and texted you at random hours of the night to “check on you” when you didn't give him your number? No. Not that Ajax. That Ajax wasn't creepy at all.
The worst part was his dead eyed stare. You wondered how people enjoyed his company when he had the eyes of someone with no true compassion, the eyes of someone who was obviously faking their emotion. Was everyone just pretending to not notice how his smile didn't reach his eyes, or had you truly gone crazy?
The dim, setting sunlight hit your note pages as you sat in the library to study, a typical thing for you to do when you had hours between your classes. And Ajax, the one who was failing almost every single class he took, decided to sit only a few tables over from you, pretending to be nose deep into a book for a course he didn't even take.
You could feel his eyes on you as you tried to focus on anything, but him. The books, the clocks, your phone, anything but him, where he sat unmoving. Why was today the day the library had to be empty? Where was everyone else who was supposed to be studying? Why were you alone with him, only a few tables between you.
A weight lifted off your shoulder when you heard someone stomping up the stairs to the library, calling his name loudly, “What are you doing here man? I didn't even think you knew what a library was!” they ostracized him while playfully smacking him on the back. They were obnoxiously loud, something that would've annoyed you any other day, but today you were grateful for their rudeness.
He was distracted. You could tell because you could no longer feel those eyes on you. This was your chance to scoop all of your books up and toss your bag over your shoulder, running out the door before he had the chance to notice you were gone. You breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the cool autumn air against your skin eased you more than the tense air of the library.
It was worrisome how much more you'd been seeing him these past few days. More than usual and not in the coincidental way. It was like he always knew where you were going. You tried to brush the thought from your head as you walked to your next class, trying to focus on anything else, but that feeling was back. The feeling of eyes on you. And not just any eyes. Those dead eyes. He was nearby.
You stopped in your tracks and turned on your heels with your eyes closed. In your mind, you were silently praying that it was just the nerves and your mind was playing tricks on you. That it was making you imagine the feeling, but sure enough, there he was, messy orange hair, charming smile, and lifeless eyes.
“You're jumpy today,” he said playfully. You took a hesitant step back, but he still closed the distance between you, with little hassle. All it took was two steps from his long legs and suddenly you could smell his oaky cologne. He tossed an arm over your shoulder and pulled you back into his chest, “You left pretty quickly back there. I didn't even get to say hello.”
“Sorry,” you muttered beneath your breath. His baggy clothes hid it well, but he was built firmly beneath them, all muscle with little to no fat. He wasn't choking you with this arm, not yet, but you could feel his ability to. And it would be easy for him to do.
His orange hair tickled your cheeks as he leaned down to be closer to your face, “You didn't answer my text,” his voice just barely above a whisper, his tone playful, but you could feel the malice behind it. He was annunciating each syllable of each word, speaking slowly so you couldn't say you didn't hear him correctly.
“T-text?” You stuttered back. Which text? Ajax texted you all hours of the day and night. Was he actually taking your dry, one word answers as replies? Was what you were doing to try to push him away only making him push back harder?
With an arm still around your neck, his other hand trailed down your body. His fingertips traced every curve of your clothed person, until they landed on the hip. He took this time to squeeze and groped your lower body before slipping your phone out of your pocket and typed in your password.
The blood drained from your face while you watched him scroll through your apps. No one knew your password. No one. Yet he typed it in like it was a regular occurrence for him.
“Didn't even save my number,” he whined, “Don't worry, I've got you.”
His name was changed from a string of numbers to “Childe <3” not giving you the chance to protest.
“You really are a bad girlfriend,” he muttered again, not caring about your lack of a response to him. Girlfriend? Since when were you his girlfriend? You felt like you were spinning in place and your head just felt so heavy. He was saying everything so casually, like you were supposed to agree with it, like you were the one who was wrong.
“Ajax, I think you've misunderstood something,” you said a little too quickly, but your lungs felt like they couldn't get any air in them.
It seemed like he ignored your words completely as he continued to scroll through his messages to you, where he was practically talking to himself, “See? Right here. I asked to take you out for coffee,” he held the screen up to your face.
Sure enough, he had. But you never responded and that text was quickly swallowed up by the myriad of other texts he'd sent you. His flirty messages were ignored by you, more often than not you only replied out of what felt like obligation and fear. Anyone who said you were lucky to have the oh so popular Ajax crushing on you, obviously didn't look into those empty eyes enough.
He sighed and using that arm around your shoulders, began to drag you in the opposite direction from where you were going. You tried to stop him and pull away, but his strength only made you stumble over your own steps, falling into his arms.
“Where are you taking me?” Fear was laced in your words as you continued to struggle in his grasp, but he didn't stagger.
“Coffee.” He spoke with ease as he continued to drag you along with him, that well built, muscled arm shifted ever so slightly to your neck and starting to choke, “I think we need to talk.”
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sanguineterrain · 9 months
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redamancy | steve harrington
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Summary: redamancy (n.) - the act of loving someone who loves you back; a love returned in full // or, four times you kissed Steve Harrington, and one time he finally kissed you back.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Word count: 5.2k
Warnings/tags: friends to lovers, 5+1 fic format, no use of y/n, FLUFF, PINING PINING, injured s4 steve, hospital setting, general vecna angst (eddie's alive bc i will never kill eddie in my fics), bed sharing, happy ending, and kissing. if that wasn't clear. :)
A/N: fun fact: this is the first time i've written a 5+1 fic! technically it's 4+1 but whatevs. if you enjoy this fic, please give it a reblog and support your local steve harrington tumblrina.
divider by firefly-graphics
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i. the promise 
"Would you ever get married?" 
You open your eyes. The setting sun nearly blinds you through the windshield. Immediately, you stick out a hand to block it. 
You're still reclined all the way back in the passenger seat, because Steve's fancy schmancy BMW can do that. He frequently lectures you about doing it while he's driving. Have I taught you nothing? Road safety! 
"I mean, I guess so," you say. "If someone ever wants to put a ring on me."
You sit up and pull down the sun visor. Steve turns. His hair lightens in the summer, shades of reddish blond peeking through. He insists his hair has never been anything but brown, fiercely pledging his allegiance to brunettes. You coo at his highlights all the same. 
"I want to," he says after a minute. "I wanna get married." 
You're parked down the block from your house. You should've gotten out ten minutes ago, but there's never any rush when you're with Steve.
"The line to wed you will be out the door, champ," you say around a grin. 
"Hm. I dunno." He stretches in his seat. "Maybe if I was the same guy I was a few years ago." 
You wrinkle your nose. "I doubt that."
"But what can I really offer?" he continues. "I'm just some guy who can't get into college."
"That doesn't mean no one will marry you. Some people who go to college are dumber than dirt. They get married. College has nothing to do with it. You can go, if you really want to. One rejection doesn't say anything about you, Steve." 
"I guess."
You pull the lever on the side. The seat shoots up with a brrrap! It clicks as you straighten. 
"Where did all this come from, anyway?" you ask. 
Steve shrugs. "Just thinking."
"Dangerous."
He smiles. "I like to live on the edge."
"Contemplating marriage like the world's biggest sap. Definitely edgy."
Steve hums. His hands are in his lap. He picks at a cuticle, a habit he’s recently developed. You wonder why he’s so anxious. 
"Two people from our graduating class got married last week."
Your eyes widen. "You're kidding."
"Nope. Lisa Schell and Gary Brewer." 
"Wait, didn't she cheat on him?"
"Yeah, but he slept with her sister, so I guess they called it even."
You shake your head. "That's insane. They're literally babies, Steve. That's like Dustin getting married."
Steve scowls. "He's not allowed to get married before me." 
"Not even to his possibly fictional Suzie?" 
"Not even to her."
You stare at the freckles on Steve's face and how his frizz kind of looks like a halo in the light. You imagine the feel of his hair in your hands, the warmth of his scalp.
"I'd marry you," you say. 
Steve's eyebrows shoot up. 
"What?"
"Like, if you were in a pinch."
He looks at you sideways. You flatten, then scrunch your hands over your knees. Your tongue feels too big for your mouth. 
"I'm talking about spending the rest of my life with someone, you know. Not borrowing fifty bucks."
"Fifty bucks is a lot of money for some of us, Harrington."
"That’s probably how much Lisa's wedding dress cost."
"I hope she kept the receipt."
Silence descends. A soft breeze blows through your cracked window. You want to search Steve's glove box for gum, but you've just told him you'd marry him, so you can't do anything except think about the fact that those words came out of your mouth. 
"Are you…" Steve begins, then pauses. "Why did you say that?"
"Because you're worried, for some incomprehensible reason, that no one will marry you."
"I scoop ice cream for a living."
You level him with a look. 
"Steve. We're kids. Cut yourself some slack."
His eyes turn hollow. They've been doing that lately. You wish you knew why. 
"I don't really feel like a kid these days," he says. 
Something about the way Steve sounds makes you want to climb over the console and curl into him, cradle his head to your neck. Which is crazy. You guys don't do that. Steve isn't yours to do that with. 
"Let's make a pact," you say softly. 
He meets your eye. "A pact?"
"Mmhm. Let's say if both of us aren't married by… thirty, then we'll get married."
"Well, I don't want a pity marriage." 
You roll your eyes. "It's not a pity marriage, Steve."
"Thirty is so late! You really think I won't be married by then?" he asks. 
"No, I don't think that. I already said folks will be lined up to marry you," you say. 
"I can't wait till I'm thirty." 
"Or you'll turn into an old maid?" 
"Meh meh meh," he mocks without any heat. 
You purse your lips so you don't smile. "Fine. We'll split the difference. Twenty-four?"
Steve considers that. Really considers it. It suddenly occurs to you what you're promising and who you're promising it to. You wonder if you'll both forget about it. Or brush it off. Oh, what did we know? We were kids!
Except Steve doesn't feel like a kid. And maybe you don't either, as much as you wish you do. 
"Do you mean it?" he asks. 
"Of course I do."
"No, seriously." He's serious. "I mean it, so if you don't…"
"Steve, I said I mean it. I do."
"You'll marry me?"
"I will."
"Swear on it."
You hold out your right pinkie out, waiting. Steve hooks his finger over yours. Impulsively, you kiss your linked pinkies. To show that you really, truly mean it.
You try to picture it. What walking down the aisle to meet Steve at the altar would feel like. You wonder if he'd keep his hair long, like it is now. You like it long. Would he keep it long for you?
"Will you buy me a ring?" you ask. "If we get married, I mean."
"Of course I'd buy you a ring," Steve says. "I'd get you anything you wanted."
"Okay." Your heart hammers in your chest. "I'm gonna go home."
"Alright. Want me to pull up to the door?"
"No, it's fine. Walking is good for digestion. Those milkshakes were no joke."
Steve smiles. He has such a lovely smile. His Cupid's bow is shaped exactly like a heart. 
"Same time tomorrow? It's movie night." 
Right. Your movie night. A semi-regular occasion that includes you, Steve, Robin, and the kids, sometimes. You've watched at least a dozen movies this summer together. Only this time, you're watching a movie after promising to marry Steve. 
"Sounds good," you say. "Will you pick me up?"
"Always."
Another promise. You hadn't realized how many Steve makes to you. 
"'Kay. See you."
You get out. Steve waves as he pulls away from the curb. 
Your ring finger feels bare. You rub it, hoping the feeling will go away. 
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ii. the wound 
The plastic chair has turned your legs numb. Your butt is about to follow. 
Can butts go numb? You're not sure. You'll find out soon, though. 
You rub your eyes. God, you need sleep. 
Across the room, you catch Joyce Byers' gaze. She smiles at you, though it's brittle. You try to smile back, feeling distinctly like you might break if you stretch your mouth too far. 
She looks away, and your not-smile falls. 
"They'll let us in soon," she says, like she knows. She does know. Better than you, certainly. 
The hospital smells cold. It smells like a place people go to die. 
Your heartbeat ratchets. You shouldn't think like that. 
"You don't understand," comes Dustin's voice. He's at the receptionist's desk, flanked by Mike and Lucas. Dustin's face is red and blotchy, near tears. 
"I need to see him. You won't let me see Eddie, so—" 
The receptionist rears back, like she can't believe three children are daring to speak to her. 
"Neither patient is cleared for visitors," she says icily. "Now, for the last time: have a seat."
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Joyce begin to stand, ready to herd the kids away. You beat her to it. Out of everyone in this room, you're probably the only person who has the strength to stand. 
"Guys, c'mon. It won't be long." 
They don't look at you. You don't take it personally. An hour earlier, you'd cornered Dustin and forced him to tell you what happened. What's been happening. 
So he did. And now you're here. 
You don't blame them for glaring at the prickly receptionist. But you know that won't do anything. It won't heal Steve quicker. And it won't make anybody feel better. 
"Hey, Dustin." You lay a hand on his shoulder. He looks at you like you're not Steve. You wish it was you in surgery instead. 
"Come sit," you say. 
"I need to see him," he tells you. 
"I know." Your throat tightens, threatening to trap your words altogether. You rush to get the rest out. "I do too. But this isn't going to make that happen faster. Come sit with me. Okay?"
"He'll be fine," Mike says quietly. "They don't wanna get sued by his asshole dad."
You nod, because yeah, good point. Quite possibly the first time Richard Harrington has brought anybody comfort. He's in Cancun, last you'd heard. You hope he chokes on a margarita. 
Dustin follows you. Mike and Lucas sit next to Joyce. The five of you wait. 
At some point, you fall asleep. When you wake up, it's to the contentious receptionist peering over you all. 
"Mr. Harrington is awake," she says primly. "You may see him now, young man."
Dustin flies out of the chair, Lucas and Mike at his heels. 
A part of you wants to go home, and you feel terrible for it. You feel terrible that Steve almost died, but you're the frightened one. You don't know if you can bear to see him tied to tubes and a heart monitor.
"Go on."
Joyce tracks you sleepily. Her hair is more knotted than before you fell asleep. She nods to the hallway. 
"Go see him."
You can’t voice every thought, every fear. I don’t know if I can see him like this.
“It’s good he won’t wake up alone,” she says.
“He’s got a family.” You wave your hand weakly. 
Joyce watches you for a moment. Then she gets up.
"Yes, he does." 
She holds out her hand. 
You don’t know Joyce Byers very well. This is probably the longest conversation you’ve had with her. You realize, then, that you're wrong—you’re not the one who’s strong enough to stand.
“Let’s go see him,” she says. "All of his loved ones should be there." 
God, are you really that obvious? 
You take her hand, and the two of you go down the hall.
Steve is nearly unrecognizable in the hospital bed. The kids are speaking to him, unusually quiet. They look up when you enter. 
Steve’s eyes lock with yours. 
“Hey,” is all you say.
“Hi,” he says, voice rough with disuse and getting choked by what Dustin had described as demon bats. 
“Boys, come on,” Joyce calls. “Let’s make a cafeteria stop.”
You see Dustin about to protest, but Lucas tugs his arm like he knows, and goddamn, you really are that obvious, aren’t you? 
You wait for the door to close behind you. Then you walk to Steve’s side. 
The gnarled ring of flesh around his neck makes you queasy. The rest of him isn’t much better, red and purple smeared across any skin that’s not covered by the chalky hospital gown.
You sit in the chair. It’s the same plastic kind as the ones in the waiting room, but this one doesn’t feel so hard.
“Robin called me,” you say.
Steve closes his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, you’d better be.” Your voice cracks. “Can’t believe you went dimension-surfing without me.”
“You’re mad at me.”
Your breath is punched out of you. 
“No,” you say softly. “My God, Steve. I’m not mad at you.”
His hand creeps to the edge of the bed. His fingers are scraped.
You take his hand and lace your fingers together. He slow-blinks. He’ll probably fall asleep in the next half hour. 
“It’s okay if you are,” he whispers. “Mad, I mean. I’d be mad too.”
You know he wouldn’t be, though. You know Steve would forgive you in a heartbeat.
“I’m not mad,” you say, equally as quiet. “I just… I was scared." 
He nods. "I'm sorry for scaring you." 
You bow your head and close your eyes. When Robin had called, you'd run to the bathroom and coughed up stomach acid.
They say he’ll make it, she'd told you, and you'd realized with violent clarity that you love him. 
But Steve doesn't need that right now. So you bury it.
You lean in and bring Steve's knuckles to your lips, taking care not to jostle him.
His eyes widen. Part of you hopes he won’t remember this conversation.
"Don't do that again," you say. “Not without me.”
"Okay,” he whispers. “I won't." 
You wait until he falls asleep, hand in his. 
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iii. the brand
“There’s no way I’m getting in your death van, Munson!” Robin whines.
“Death van is an exaggeration, Buckley. If anything, it’s a life van. I’m still here, aren’t I?” Eddie asks.
“Definitely not because of that heap of metal,” Steve murmurs to you. You snicker.
It’s nearly dark, but a summer dark, where it doesn’t actually turn to night until well after nine PM. The top two buttons of Steve’s dress shirt are undone, and you can’t stop staring. It’s embarrassing, really. You’d nearly missed Eddie’s walk across the stage because of that damned triangle of tanned skin and dark chest hair.
“Why can’t we take the station wagon?” Robin asks. 
“I think Nancy already left,” you say. “Sorry, Rob.” 
“And I’ve put my car jacking days behind me,” Eddie announces, flinging his arms out. “So my van it shall be!”
Robin whips her head around to glare at Steve. 
“This is your fault,” she accuses scathingly.
“Me?!”
“You just had to go and get a flat tire yesterday.”
“Yeah, Steve,” you add cheekily. “Why couldn’t you have foreseen the dreaded timeline where Eddie drives?”
“Et tu?” Eddie asks. “I’m hurt. I’m a great driver, y’know. Better than Steve, some have told me.”
“Dustin only told you that ‘cause you were high on morphine and about to burst into tears,” Robin says.
As they bicker, Steve draws closer, so your arms brush. You close the distance, crowding him.
“Y’okay?” he asks quietly.
“Yes,” you say, startled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Just checking.”
“Are you okay?”
He turns to you. He looks like he’s searching for something. You don’t know what.
“Yeah,” Steve says after a minute. “I am. Better than, actually.”
“‘Cause I’m here, right?” you ask with a gooey grin.
“Yeah. ‘Cause you’re here.”
He sounds honest, so you turn away, because you can’t handle that and his chest hair. 
"I should get to choose where we go," Robin says as you arrive at Eddie's van. "Since it may be our last trip and all."
"Funny you were in Band and not president of the drama club, Buckley," Eddie says dryly. 
"Pot, kettle."
"How 'bout Rita's?" you suggest. "Unlimited refills and no one will hassle Eddie."
"Aw, you care about little ol' me?" Eddie asks. 
"If you get us there in one piece, yes."
Eddie huffs. "No wonder you and the Hair are like this." He crosses his fingers. 
"Damn right," Steve says. "We even finish each other's—"
"Terribly cliche sayings!" you say. 
Robin looks at you for a moment, unusually smirky. Then she looks at Steve. 
"You match. Blue dress, blue tie."
"That's so if she gets lost, they know who to return her to," Steve says. 
You scoff. "More like the other way around." 
He pouts. "Hey."
"Hay is for horses," you sing, skipping ahead to Eddie's van. 
"I'm sorry, are you excited to ride in the Hell Van?" Robin asks. 
You shrug. "We could use some excitement around here, couldn't we?"
"No!" all three say.
"I've had enough excitement for ten lifetimes," Robin mutters. 
Eddie pulls the door open. Your smile quickly drops. 
"Uh, Eddie? Where the fuck are the seats?"
"Right, so, usually I only have Gareth and Jeff ride with me. Gareth always calls shotgun—"
"Shotgun!" Robin hollers, and races to the front seat. 
You stare at the single backseat chair. There's no way it's big enough for you and Steve. 
"Holy shit," Steve says, taking stock of the "backseat."
Eddie rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah… listen, if I'd known we'd be taking her, I would've put the other seat in, swear! Usually we take it out for the equipment." 
"Well, what are we supposed to do? Lay down and pray? This is how people get head injuries, Eddie," you say, arms folded. 
"Maybe we can call a cab," Steve suggests. 
"At this hour?" You shake your head. "No way. This isn't Indianapolis."
"Oh my God." Robin groans. "The solution is so obvious. Sit on Steve's lap. Boom. Now come on, I'm starving."
You tense. Steve is tactile, sure, and you've become acclimated to that over the years. 
But this? This is way, way beyond that. 
"Uh…" Steve glances at you. "Do you… I mean, if you don't mind?"
You glance at Eddie, who's got the tiniest smirk. You glower and he clears his throat, hiding his mouth behind a lock of hair. 
"I don't mind," you say, more confident than you feel. "It's a short drive."
Eddie nods. "Definitely. I'll step on it."
"Please don't step on it," Robin calls. "We're already chancing fate by letting you drive in the first place."
Eddie huffs, walking to the driver's side. "Y'know, Buckley, you are just…"
You look at Steve. He smiles at you, sweet as always. 
"This isn't gonna aggravate any injuries, right?" you ask. "Me… sitting on you?"
You wince at the wording. 
"No, should be fine. My PT gave me the all clear a month ago."
You nod tightly. "Right. Okay. You go first."
Steve climbs in, planting his feet on the floor. You go next, stooping in front of him. You catch each other's gaze for a moment. Then you laugh, suddenly trying to look anywhere but at Steve. 
"Right, so I'll just…"
You slide onto Steve's lap, trying to hold some of your weight so you won't crush him. He splays an easy hand over your belly and leans over to pull the van door shut. Your heart thunders in your chest. 
"You can sit back, y'know," he says, breath tickling your ear. "’M not made of glass."
"Didn't want your legs to go numb," you joke weakly. 
Steve makes an unhappy noise and tugs you back so you're fully seated on him. You angle yourself so you can look at him. Steve looks up at you, lightly tracing a pattern on your hip. Like you do this all the time. 
"Hi," you say, too jittery to crack another joke. 
Steve smiles gently. "Hey."
His tone is fond. You feel sick. 
"Everybody good?" Eddie asks. 
He adjusts the rear view mirror and you watch his eyebrows shoot up in the reflection. 
"You two look cozy."
"Shut the fuck up, Munson," you mumble. "Just drive, already." 
Eddie giggles like a gremlin in reply and turns the ignition.
It’s not bad, at first. Eddie takes it easy driving through Hawkins. Part of it is because he doesn’t want to attract attention. The other part is that Hopper promised Eddie a night in jail if he caught him running the stop signs again. 
You personally think it’s a bluff. Robin does not; she’s enthusiastically annoying about road safety, and points out every single sign and red light. This causes Eddie to start slamming the breaks in retaliation. 
“Holy fuck!” you yelp when Eddie hits the breaks particularly hard. “Eddie!”
Steve is quick to tug you backwards, considering you’re not belted. You scramble to grab his shoulders and twist to look at him.
“Thanks,” you say breathlessly.
He smiles, then leans away, glaring at the front.
“Really, Munson?”
“She started it!” Eddie insists. “Blame your BFF!”
“Can you drive like someone who doesn’t have a death wish?” Robin shoots back.
Steve’s hands are now on the small of your back and on your hip, respectively. Your legs hang over the side of the carseat, butt nestled quite firmly on his thighs. 
God, you’re never living this down. 
“Y’okay?” 
Steve’s breath in your ear makes you squirm. You turn to look at him.
“Fine,” you murmur. “I’m not crushing you, am I?”
“No,” he says. “Don’t worry.”
Eddie breaks again, harder than before. You slip. 
Steve reacts instantly, his hand grabbing the meat of your thigh. Your dress rides up, so it’s skin on skin. 
The momentum is worse, however, because you jerk back. Right into Steve’s face.
Your nose mashes into his, which isn’t great. But then, your lips smush against his cheek. When you pull back, there’s a smeared lipstick print.
Maybe you’re the one with a death wish.
Robin is screeching incoherently but you can't focus on anything but the smudge of pink on Steve's cheek. Your chest feels tight. 
He looks like he's yours.
"Yeah, we're fine, " Steve says, voice close enough to startle you back into the conversation. 
He looks up at you. Your hand lands on the lipstick, like if you cover it, it'll go away. Steve tilts his head, mouth open in a question. 
"Sorry," you rush out before he can speak. "I got some of my, uh, lipstick on you." 
He relaxes. 
"Oh. Thought I was bleeding or something," he says with a slight laugh. "'S okay, I can wipe it off when we get there."
"Uh-huh." 
You drop your hand. You can't stop staring. Stop staring.
The print isn't exactly in the shape of your lips, but it's close. You can see the divots and where your lips parted. If someone were to see you two, they'd assume a lot of things you're not. 
Steve's collar is wrinkled from the van ride from Hell. His neck is flushed. You wonder how your lipstick would look there. 
Eddie presses the brake, softer this time. Steve's fingers dig into the meat of your thigh anyway. More marks. 
"Alright, relax, gang," Eddie says. "We're almost there."
You touch Steve's cheek again and hope he'll forget to wash you off of his face. 
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iv. the secret
It's raining. You're in Steve's bed. 
Thunder shakes the sky. You curl further into your—Steve’s—pillow. It smells like his soap and detergent. 
You used to like the rain. Not so much these days. Rain makes you think of blood on asphalt and being alone at twenty-four. Rain silences you. 
"Do you think he'll come back?" 
You've never dared to ask anyone. Not even Joyce. She'd know. She wouldn't tell you the truth, though. 
Nancy Wheeler probably could. She'd face you with that steel brow of hers and give it to you straight. 
Yes. The monster's back. You're not getting married. 
You slip your hand into Steve’s. He squeezes your fingers. Outside, the rain roars. 
"I don't know," Steve says into the darkness. 
You can't see him like this. It makes you mildly claustrophobic. Maybe you should turn on the hall light. 
"Hopper said he was dead. So did that other guy—uh, Murray. And like, Eddie's okay. And Max. El would tell us if she sensed something. It's not like he could come back without making a sound. I mean, from what she told me, she basically, like, unraveled him from the inside out. Which is pretty gross, but also a good way to keep someone dead."
He's rambling. He's rambling to distract you. 
God, what the fuck are you going to do when you're twenty-four and unmarried and Steve's forgotten all about you? 
"I don't want anyone to die," you whisper. 
Steve squeezes your hand harder. 
"No one's gonna die."
You shift closer. You can barely make out Steve's silhouette. The ends of his hair tickle your knuckles. 
"Hey," he says, and you try to find his eyes, but you can't. "Nothing's gonna happen, okay?" 
"Yeah," you say, even though something did happen, something that almost took him away from you, and you don't know if you can handle that again. 
"You can stay here as long as you want," he says. 
"I can go back to my room."
Steve threads his fingers with yours. You can't see his eyes but it's okay.
"Don't," he says. 
"Okay."
You scoot forward, closing another few inches between you two. Now, you feel Steve's breath on your face. He smells like minty toothpaste. He is alive. 
The rain batters against the windows. You could kiss him. You could kiss him right now, and no one would know except for you and him. 
His breath has begun to even out. You lean in blindly. Your lips land on his hair. 
It's hardly a kiss. It’ll be your secret anyway.
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+ and, finally, the first.
"Dustin wanted chocolate milk," you say, not looking up from the tub of yogurt you're searching the date for. 
"Yeah," Steve says, parking the cart to the side. "Kid's addicted."
He opens the giant fridge door and a burst of cold air nips at your arm. You shy away. 
"Six dollars? Jesus, does it come from gold cows?"
You snort, finally putting the yogurt in the cart. You stay at Steve’s house more often than not these days, so there’s no point in getting a separate cart.
"What?" Steve asks, looking at you. 
"You're funny, that's what."
"I am?"
"You sound like somebody's grandpa."
"I do not!"
"Do too," you say sweetly. 
"Do not."
"Do too infinity."
Steve rolls his eyes. 
"Yeah, whatever. I'm a grandpa 'cause I don't wanna spend a leg and an arm on chocolate milk for the little shit? So be it."
"Steve," you begin, eyebrows drawing together. "It's his birthday. Have a heart, old man." 
"Oh, good grief," he mumbles, but he takes the carton and puts it into the cart. 
You smile. Steve shakes his head. 
"This is why I don't go shopping with you. You're an enabler."
"I am," you say happily, walking alongside him as he pushes the cart. 
"And you don't push the cart."
You tut. "Pretty girls don't push shopping carts, Steven." 
"Oh, they just find some poor sap to push it for them, huh?" 
"I'm so glad you're on board," you say, skipping ahead to the chip aisle. 
You look through the shelves and land on two types of Doritos. Cool Ranch and Original. It’s a tough decision.
“Steve, what do you think?” You hold up the bags. “Which do they like better?”
“Ranch. According to Mike, liking the original flavors of snacks is lame.”
You snicker and take three bags of the Cool Ranch. Steve pushes the cart to you. 
“I feel like we’re shopping for our kid,” you say. “We’re the awesome house everybody wants to visit because we have the best snacks and the biggest pool.”
You look up when Steve doesn’t reply. He stares at you, expression unreadable. Your smile dims.
“What?” you ask.
Steve shakes his head.
“Nothing,” he says quietly. “It’s nothing.”
“Steve, seriously. What is it?”
He shakes his head again. 
“Nothing, really. Just zoned out for a second.”
He continues to push the cart down the aisle. You watch him for a moment, then follow. The two of you quickly check off the remaining items on Steve’s list (yes, his actual, physical grocery list), and then you check out.
The cashier smiles at you both in line. She’s an older woman, with the typical poofy blowout nearly every woman over fifty gets at Brenda’s Salon in downtown Hawkins. You busily put the items on the conveyor belt while Steve takes out his wallet and makes conversation with the cashier. It’s a good routine you two have established. 
When the cashier’s done, you squeeze past the cart and grab half of the bags. Steve takes the receipt and the rest of the bags.
“You two are very sweet together,” the cashier says, her round cheeks blush-red like apples. “Have a wonderful day.”
“You too, ma’am,” Steve replies, and heads to the exit.
You’re frozen for a moment, startled until Steve calls your name. You heft the bags in your arms and hurry after him. 
Steve stops and takes two of your bags before crossing the parking lot. 
“Steve,” you say, and huff. “I can carry them.”
“Pretty girls don’t push carts or carry bags. It’s the rule, remember?”
You watch, unimpressed, as Steve then proceeds to try and get his car keys with an armful of grocery bags. When he almost drops a bag for the third time, you sigh and take pity. 
“Which pocket?” you ask, snaking your arm around.
“Back left,” he says, smiling sheepishly.
You roll your eyes, feeling disgustingly fond. You shove your hand down Steve’s back jean pocket. He wiggles his eyebrows at you.
“Take me out to dinner at least,” he says.
“Pretty boys don’t get taken to dinner until the pretty girl has been asked out properly,” you shoot back. 
Steve smiles, but the joke doesn’t land like it usually does. You step away as soon as you get the keys, clearing your throat. 
“Well, I hope you’ve learned your lesson about carrying all the bags, Popeye.”
You open the trunk for him, then go to open the passenger side door.
“If I don’t carry all the bags, how else am I meant to show off to the ladies?”
You pull the handle on the driver’s side for Steve and he gets in, beaming cheekily at you.
“The only person who’s watching you make a fool of yourself is me, big guy,” you say. “So, mission failed.”
You open the glove compartment and start fishing through for gum. You find a Juicy Fruit packet but it’s empty. 
“Damn, that’s what we forgot,” you say, defeatedly crumpling the cardboard. “Gum.”
You start to turn to Steve. “Do you think we—”
You’ve wondered, probably more than you should, about how Steve Harrington kisses. 
Now you know: tenderly. 
He cups both sides of your face, and you have to brace yourself on the center console for balance. Your other hand tangles in his hair. It’s as soft as you imagined, free of product, and you scrunch the baby hairs at the base of his scalp. Steve makes a quiet noise. 
You kiss until you need air. Even then, Steve doesn’t let you go far. You part with only an inch or two between you. 
“There’s gum in the middle compartment,” is the first thing he says.
“Huh?”
“In here.” He pats the compartment between the seats. “Hubba Bubba. I got it last week.”
You giggle and grab Steve’s face with both hands. His hands slip to your arms and he squeezes, smiling gently.
“What?” he asks.
“Fuck, I’m glad I know you,” you say. 
Steve kisses you again. Two. Steve Harrington has officially kissed you two times. 
You hope you’ll lose track at some point.
2K notes · View notes
urfavstargirl · 9 months
Text
inner man challenge! (´。• ᵕ •。`) ♡
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hey babes!! okay, i know i said i was going on break but i got this sudden inspiration and yk i had to make a post!! so this challenge is called the inner man challenge, because it's all about fulfilling your inner man and staying in the wish fulfilled!!
WHAT IS THE GOAL FOR THIS CHALLENGE? ★
making the state of the wish fulfilled your dwelling state
fulfilling your inner man
falling in love with imagination
not caring about the 3d
FIRST STEP! ★
this is crucial! remove the intention of manifesting to be for getting in the 3d!!! "but girl.. the whole point of manifesting is to get it in the 3d" okay yes, if u want to believe that i can't change your mind. but to get it in the 3d we need to be fulfilled, and you can't be in the SOWF if you are still trying to get it! read this if ur still confused <3
me personally i feel like the reason why some people don't get results from methods, challenges etc is because they are doing the method to get it in the 3d, not to feel fulfilled. but thats just me 🤷🏾‍♀️
SECOND STEP! ★
now for the fun part, decide what you want!! df, db, sp, a billion bucks in ur account, being the smartest of ur class, moving out of your paren'ts home, getting into your dream college, literally go wild!!
THIRD STEP! ★
fulfill your inner man when your inner man needs fulfilling! if something bad arises in the 3d that shakes ur confidence, fulfill!
having the urge to look in ur bank account to see if you have a billion bucks? close your eyes, imagine your inner man looking at her bank account and seeing the numbers go up by the second!
one of your family members makes a comment about how ugly you are?? would your inner man care?? NO! bc she's fine asf!
if anything 'bad' happens in the 3d, imagine your inner man saying "uh.. thats cute but i'm living my dream life rn sooo.."
WAIT, IS THERE A SCHEDULE? ★
there's no schedule to this challenge!! no "in the morning say 1409834 affirmations, in the afternoon vaunt for 3 hours, in the night do starfish position and affirm for the void" NO!! literally just fulfill your inner man when ur inner man needs fulfilling!!
"don't force yourself to do a method you don't want to do! don't force yourself to visualize the same scene someone else even though it doesn't create any feeling of knowing inside of you and feels like a chore to you. don't repeat affirmations if you don't want to and don't repeat an aff you don't resonate with. do what you think is fun! and do what feels natural to you! by taking the pressure of being perfect off yourself, it's easier to imagine in order to experience, rather than to get it in your 3d." - @remcycl333
HOW DO I STAY IN THE STATE OF WISH FULFILLED THE ENTIRE DAY? ★
no need to stay in the SOWF the entire day, we are always changing states! for example, right now you're in the state of reading this post, and i am in the state of writing this post. it's all about making the SOWF your dwelling state! so if you accidentally stay in the state of lack 7 times but you are in the SOWF 8 times, then the SOWF is your dwelling state! (btw don't count the times you enter a state lmao)
ANYTHING ELSE? ★
get off tumblr, just delete the app.. like this place is literally just making you overconsume. you have better things to do!
if you have a negative thought don't spiral and think all your progress has gone to waste. breathe in and out, your inner man has it and that's all that matters.
have fun!! this challenge isn't like other challenges (soo quirky i know 😜), it's meant to fulfill you instead of making you stress about the 3d. make fun scenarios in your head, vaunt, just have a good time!!
WHEN you get successes (whatever you consider to be a success: feeling that your inner man is fulfilled, or getting it in the 3d) send it to me or make a post about it using #star's-inner-man-challenge!
if you have any questions let me know in my inbox, bye yall!! 💞
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ericityyy · 5 months
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Hi!
Can i request a fluff georgie x reader where he is head over heals with her?
The family dont know who she is (just sheldon bcs they are in the same university and she is very smart), but one day georgie takes her back home to hang out as friends and the family falls in love with how kind smart and charming she is and they are like: "this is the one for him"
Your writing is wholesome 😚
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞
𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘎𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘦’𝘴 “𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥” 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘰𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘍𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺
𝙏𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚: 𝘍𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘉𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘹 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘵
𝙏𝙮𝙥𝙚: 𝘍𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧
𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 1,632
𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
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Sometimes when you look at someone you like, you get this feeling of time slowing down around you but fast forwarding to the moment you imagine yourself with that person. That feeling is what Georgie experiences when with her. Y/N L/N. There are many beautiful girls around the world, but nothing can compare to her.
She’s beautiful in his eyes, no matter what setting they are in, whether it is dark or not. She glows in his eyes. When it’s bright, she’s the cause. When it’s crowded, she’s the only one he sees. When they’re alone, nothing else matters. Needless to say, Georgie will always be proud to admit that he is down bad for this girl, and yet he couldn’t find the courage to do it in front of her.
It is no secret that Georgie is not particularly the smartest one in the family; however, that does not mean that he is dumb. He’s smart in his own way. Everyone is. It’s always comforting when she tells Georgie that he’s not dumb, as other people put it. In her words, she is "book smart” and the boy is “street smart," to which the latter agrees since Y/N does not go outside much.
There’s more ways to enjoy herself in the comfort of her home, more specifically in her room, where all her books and experiments reside.
That’s why she was left confused when she found herself at Dairy Queen with Georgie. How he convinced her to hang outside, she doesn’t know. Clearly it was one of Georgie’s talents to be so convincing. Partly, it was because Y/N couldn’t say no to the boy.
“After graduating high school, I just go to Dr. Sturgis’ class for the hell of it.” Y/N explains while scooping up some ice cream, “My parents are trying to convince me to go to a university and finish my studies altogether; honestly, they just want to brag to our relatives that I graduated college at such a young age.” She furrowed her eyebrows while letting out a bitter smile. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents, but I don’t want to rush into college, y'know? I just want to take a break from studying, but I gave them a chance to let me enroll in Dr. Sturgis’ class, but only in his class so technically, still not in college.” Y/N laughed slightly before turning her attention to the person she’s with.
Georgie nodded his head at times when Y/N was telling her story, and the girl noticed, “I’m sorry, I’ve been talking about myself; how about you? What’s the latest news going on with Mr. Georgie Cooper?" The girl smirked smugly at the boy in front of her, making the said boy chuckle nervously.
“Nothing much, really.” Georgie shrugged, not knowing what to tell, “Just the usual, religious mom, coach dad, carefree meemaw, chaotic little sister, know it all little brother, y'know the normal.”
Y/N laughed at his description of his family. Nothing is normal with the Coopers, that’s for sure, but that’s what makes them so unique in a way that the girl wants to have the pleasure of meeting them. And because of that, she blurted out, “They sound fun; it’ll be a joy to meet them personally.” She not-so-subtly hinted to Georgie, who stopped scooping his ice cream.
“Why? "Georgie squinted his eyes confusingly, not really understanding why the girl wanted to meet his family.
Y/N shrugged, playing with her spoon. “Nothing really; I just want to meet them. Is that okay?" She then asked, losing confidence in her voice, which, again, the boy noticed.
“It’s okay, just don’t let them freak you out.”
"Oh, please, how bad can they be?”
・‥...━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━...‥・
“Y/N, what were your thoughts in Dr. Sturgis’ class today? I think it was motivational. Then again, it’s not like I don’t know what the contents of his lessons are anyway.” Sheldon arrogantly bragged as he walked alongside the older girl. Although he did not know he was being arrogant, it’s just the way he presents himself to people. And Y/N has come to terms with that.
Y/N decided to humor the younger boy as they walked outside the university. “Well, I think Dr. Sturgis made a mistake during his lecture.” Sheldon looked up at her, confused with his face all frowning. “What do you mean by mistake? I’m sure I would have recognized the mistake that Dr. Sturgis made.”
The girl was about to answer when they heard a car honking, startling Sheldon in the process, before they both noticed it was “Georgie!” Y/N exclaimed, a huge smile on her face seeing her friend. She ran up to the car as the boy got out of it to open the passenger door for her.
“Ma’am, your service awaits.” Georgie pretended to tip his imaginary hat. “Why, thank you, kind sir," while Y/N attempted to mimic a British accent, almost doing it perfectly.
“Georgie?” Sheldon asked, confused as he walked to his older brother’s car, "What are you doing here? Where’s Meemaw? Will you be the one taking me home? ”
Georgie sighed a bit annoyed. “Meemaw is a bit busy right now, so I volunteered to pick you up, also because Y/N will be joining us for dinner.”
“Huh. Well, that’s delightful to hear.” Sheldon opened the backseat door, waiting for his brother to come in before speaking again. "Delightful, as in Y/N joining us for dinner and not you picking me up.”
“Would you like to walk home? ”
“No.”
“Georgie!”
・‥...━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━...‥・
“We’re home!” Georgie shouted once they came inside the door of their home. The Cooper household, it was nerve-wracking for Y/N to experience this kind of situation. She didn’t grow up with that many friends due to her isolating herself most of the time. But there’s a first time for everything.
Sheldon, after pestering Y/N with what mistake Dr. Sturgis made in his lecture, went to his bedroom to drop off his briefcase, but not before telling Y/N that “This isn’t over, L/N.” Y/N raised an eyebrow at the walking boy before turning back to the nearing footsteps.
Mary came face-to-face with Y/N, not being familiar with her. “Hi, I’m sorry. Who are you?” She asked, not wanting to be rude but wanting to know this stranger inside her house.
"Oh, where are my manners?” Y/N offered her hand to the woman, giving her a beaming smile. “I’m Y/N, Mrs. Cooper. I was invited by your eldest son to dinner, but now I figure that you weren’t informed of my presence here in your humble abode.” The girl then turned to Georgie, who shrugged with a smile on his face. “I wouldn’t want to possibly intrude.”
Mary waved a hand in the girl’s direction before shaking hands with her. “Nonsense, darling, I’m happy that Georgie made friends with a gorgeous girl like yourself, and you may call me Mary.” The woman then led them to the dining table, not noticing that Y/N elbowed Georgie once her back turned to them. The boy crouches in pain, not before seeing Y/N’s overly sweet smile.
・‥...━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━...‥・
“So you mean to say that you go to the same classes with Sheldon at the university?" Missy questioned, interested in the new girl placed between Sheldon and Georgie. “And you survived being with him? Oh, I like you.”
Sheldon looked offended by his sister’s insult before looking content with their mother scolding the twin girl.
“It’s not much of a challenge anyway; I like Sheldon’s wit. It amuses me.” Y/N laughed at Sheldon’s arrogant expression.
“Do you have any religion, Y/N?” Mary asked hopefully. So far, she really likes the girl between her sons; the woman thinks that the girl is the one for Georgie.
Y/N nodded, swallowing her food before answering, “I was born and baptized a Christian, as my family is all Christians.” Mary, after receiving the answer, smiled widely at that, looking at George, motioning her head toward the girl excitedly.
“You mentioned that you graduated high school? At what age?” It was now George’s turn to ask; they were all taking turns getting to know the girl, and by that, it meant questioning her.
“Yes, Mr. Cooper. I actually graduated high school when I was 13. And now, I’m thinking about when I’m going to enroll fully in a university to get my degree. I haven’t really thought about going to college any time soon; basically, Dr. Sturgis’ lectures are just hobbies in a way.”
“And what exactly is your relationship with our Georgie here?” Connie finally asked what most of them were thinking, casually drinking a beer. Y/N choked on her pasta, with Georgie patting her back gently and offering her water, which she took. The boy noticed his family eyeing his actions toward Y/N; he sent them an eye roll.
“We’re just friends, Meemaw," Georgie answered, fighting back the urge to confess his feelings right there and then. But he figured to take this more privately than out in the open with his family present. That doesn’t really scream romantic to him.
Y/N paid no mind to his answer and rubbed her thumb on the back of his hand, smiling at him. "Thanks, darling.” She was grateful for him taking care of her when she was nearly dying earlier. “Don’t mention it, dear.” Georgie smiled back.
They didn’t notice the eyes on them, as they only saw each other right now. Needless to say, the family found the one for Georgie Cooper. He did too.
“I still don’t recall Dr. Sturgis’ mistake earlier.” Well, it was good while it lasted.
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𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄
i am so happy receiving your request :’> you’re my first ever request in this app and i was lowkey losing hope. but thank you so much for requesting this and i hope this lives up to your expectation.
pls don’t be a ghost reader.
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ellecdc · 2 months
Note
Hey L saw your requests were open and was wondering if i can ask for regulus black dating headcanons? (You know one of those long, long headcanons that you can’t finish while reading bc i love reggie so much and there aren’t enough fics for him-)
Anyways. Love your works specially your remus series, a man with a plan 🥹 it’s so cute and very well written.
Mwah <3
Hey lovely!! Thanks so much for requesting - this was fun!! I love head canons. Hopefully this scratches that itch of yours
The formatting got messed up when I moved this from a word doc so my apologies - let me know if it's too difficult to follow: 💫 = head canon, -> subcategory, and anything indented is a sub-subcategory)
Dating Regulus Black Headcanons:
No voldemort AU, okay guys? I don’t fuck with that man. 
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💫Falling in love with the witty (sometimes snide), smart, and quiet Slytherin was as easy as breathing – actively loving this man was NOT easy in the slightest
💫It took you months of talking, ‘accidentally’ being in the same room as him, sitting beside him in potions or the library and forcing him to talk to you before he finally went “what are you doing?”
-> “I like you” you responded
-> “Why?” he asked incredulously. Which, fair enough; you suppose he didn’t make much effort to talk back to you, or reach out to you, or participate in your conversations, but that’s not what you liked about him anyway
You liked his stoicism, it brought a sense of calm to you You liked how he didn’t always feel the need to fill the silence You liked how clever he was, and how he (even if he pretended you were exasperating) helped you with your studies when you got stuck  You liked his snide comments he made about people under his breath, and how he got surprised when you laughed at them – not really realizing he said them aloud to you to begin with  You liked his loyalty and sense of duty to the people who were important to him
-> “I just do” you settled for with a shrug of your shoulders
-> That answer didn’t exactly satisfy Regulus, but he accepted it nonetheless 
💫 He was a little bit more of a willing participant in your relationship after that 
💫 You’d come out of classrooms to find him waiting for you so he could walk you to your next class or to the Great Hall together for lunch 
💫 He’d always take a helping of your favourite food at breakfast/lunch/dinner just in case you wanted an extra serving, which he’d happily let you pick off of his plate
💫 He found out his brother was becoming an animagus during 4th year (though he didn’t know the reason) and took the attitude of “anything my brother can do, I can too.” And set out to become and animagus as well.
-> You wouldn’t let him do it alone, however
-> You both successfully became animagi and told no one.
💫 You guys never really discussed what the spending-time-with-each-other meant, Regulus had always been a little more than flighty in the past, and you didn’t want to scare him away.
💫 One evening, you were in an empty classroom trying to finish up a project where you could take up as much space as possible without bothering anyone when Regulus came bursting through the door
-> You don’t know how he even knew that you were here or how to find you, but he was clearly looking for you when his face crumpled when he found you
-> “Y/N” he whimpered
-> Without thinking, you threw your arms open, and he fell into your embrace
-> You sat in that classroom, holding Regulus as he sobbed into your chest for merlin knows how long, neither of you saying a word
-> He finally seemed to settle and pulled back from your embrace, though he wouldn’t make direct eye contact with you
-> “He left.”  He said simply
-> “Who?”
-> “Sirius, he ran away this summer, never came back. I thought – ugh – I thought when I saw him at school, I could convince him to come back home, come back to…me…”
-> You let the silence permeate in the air as he gathered his thoughts
-> “He’s not coming back, he’s…he left me. There. With them.”
-> You weren’t sure what to say – you didn’t want to disparage his family, Sirius least of all, knowing how much Regulus admired his older brother whether he admitted that out loud or not, and you knew (at least what Regulus had been willing to share with you) what the Black’s had put those boys through. 
-> You wanted to promise him he wasn’t alone – that he would always have Sirius, always have you – but it felt too much like a declaration, and you were too scared to do that when he was so fragile 
You knew he’d likely not believe you anyway – thinking you only said it to him because he was desperate to hear it
-> You settled with a simple “I’m sorry, Reggie.” And another hug
💫 Over the Christmas holidays, a black cat with grey eyes showed up at your family home
-> You called out to him, and he seemed to faint; almost as if he knew it was safe now that he’d seen you 
-> through the dark fur you could see some blood. You knew that what you couldn’t see underneath it would be far worse. You apologized to Regulus’ unconscious being before grabbing his animagus form and heading to the fireplace in your home, throwing a handful of floo powder into the hearth and calling for Potter Manor.
-> You were greeted by a well-dressed house elf
“I’m sorry to drop in unannounced. It’s an emergency. Is Sirius here?” The house elf snapped her fingers and a few moments later reappeared with a sleep rumpled Sirius “Y/N? What are you doing here?” “It’s regulus.” Sirius seemed to wake up rather quickly at that. “Is he okay?” You gently placed the cat onto the ground and cast a quick finite over his form, causing the animal to stretch back into Regulus. Sure enough, he was bleeding and bruised, though thankfully, most of his wounds seemed superficial. But he was clearly gaunt – like he hadn’t been eating or sleeping, and he was passed out from sheer exhaustion.
💫 Regulus stayed with the Potter’s ever since. He wouldn’t speak to you for some time after that however, feeling slightly betrayed that you brought him to Sirius
-> “I came to you, Y/N. If I’d wanted Sirius’ help, I would have asked for it!”
-> “Like hell you would have! You’ve never once accepted a lick of respite from anyone in your life. Martyrdom doesn’t suit you, Regulus - grow up.”
-> “It was my choice to make!”
-> “You were unconscious! For all I knew, you could have been dying. I had to make that choice for the both of us!”
-> “Perhaps I made a mistake then.”
The ‘trusting you’ went unsaid, but you both heard it. It crushed you.
-> “Fuck you, Regulus. I’m done.”
💫 It was awkward back at school; you hadn’t realised that much of your daily rituals were accompanied by him 
-> You stopped sitting at the spot he saved for you in the Great Hall – and eventually, you stopped eating in the Great Hall altogether, opting to visit the kitchens to eat instead.
-> He stopped waiting for you outside of classes, and he no longer carried your books around the castle. 
-> He didn’t help you with your homework
-> You didn’t cheer him on in his Quidditch games 
💫 Sirius approached you one day in the library
-> “Hiding from my brother in the library? Not a very good spot, love.”
-> “What do you want, Black?”
-> “Ouch, last names. What’d I ever do to you.”
-> You took a steadying breath – you wanted to lash out at him, but he was right, he wasn’t the one who hurt you
-> “What do you want?” you tried again
-> “We’re mean…the Black’s. We don’t…treat people very well. I don’t mean to make excuses; there is no excuse. But we weren’t treated very well ourselves. It takes a lot of unlearning.”
->You stared into his eerily similar grey eyes. “Is that all?”
-> “Hurt people, hurt people. And it’s usually the people we love the most, because they’re there. It’s not right, but I just thought you should know.” He offered you a sad smile and a squeeze of your shoulder before he left.
->You understood what he was saying, but it didn’t make you feel any better
💫 One of your housemates approached you with a package the next day. “You weren’t at breakfast, and the owl seemed very upset she couldn’t deliver this, so I promised her I’d bring this to you.”
-> It was a small square shaped package – pure white paper with a black bow on it 
-> Inside was a small charm bracelet – silver – with one charm on it. A purple hyacinth. Constancy, regret, sincerity. 
-> You shoved the bracelet in its box and into your bag and carried on with the rest of your day.
💫 “Y/N?” You heard him call quietly as he rapped twice on the door to the empty classroom you were holed up in 
-> You turned to look at him with a glare you’re sure could have rivalled one of his
-> “I was hoping we could talk.” He continued as he made his way inside.
-> “Why? You think a gift makes everything okay again?”
-> Regulus grimaced as he sat across from you. “I’m not great at apologies.”
-> You scoffed. “Yeah, seeing as you haven’t actually made one…” You sat in an awkward sort of stare off before you shook your head and moved to pack your things
-> “Y/N, wait please. I-” he reached across the table and gently grabbed your wrist. You could see a small portion of a silver chain (matching the charm bracelet you had in your bag) on his wrist. “I’m sorry…I, I was wrong.”
-> You stopped your packing and watched him as he searched for the right words 
-> “You saved my life that night. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. I shouldn’t have blamed you for anything – I should have just thanked you. Better yet, I should have told you how much I love you.”
-> You felt your breath catch in your throat. “love me?” you whispered
-> Regulus nodded and pulled out two charms from his pocket: a yellow lily (gratitude) and a rose…that one was pretty self explanatory.
-> You pulled out the box from your bag and allowed Regulus to attach the charms and clasp it on your wrist.
-> “I don’t think I’m going to ever be as good at loving you as you deserve, and I know I’m not easy to love, but I’m hoping you’ll give me a chance to try.”
-> You saw nothing but earnestness and determination in his eyes
-> “I forgive you.”
💫 Regulus is a HUGE gift giver – really the only way he ever saw ‘love’ (or the Black’s messed up version of it) was through giving/receiving gifts. So that’s the best way he was able to express his love for you 
💫 You quickly learned that his love language (the way he received it) was through words of affirmation. He didn’t have anyone tell him he was loved, cherished, and appreciated growing up – you flustered him every time you complimented him. You delighted in the raging blush he’d get, especially if you whispered something in front of his friends. 
-> You also gifted him his own charms for his bracelet that matched yours
💫 On nights you couldn’t sleep, you’d meet him in the Astronomy tower where he’d teach you the constellations and the mythology behind them.
💫 Black’s are very territorial, but I don’t see Regulus being super loud about it. Like he wouldn’t make loud proclamations of ‘ownership’ or love, but he’d always be there
-> Think, staring hard at the other person flirting with you in the Great Hall
-> Taking a lock of your hair and moving it behind your ear or just twirling it between his fingers if someone looks at you too long 
💫 This man is SO unapproachable to everyone 
-> Stony faced ALWAYS – major RBF
-> Scowls at people who stand too closely to him, talk too loudly, say something dumb 
-> Did not let anyone touch him. Ever. Barty gets too close at breakfast = Barty ends up ass over tea kettle on the stone floor. Sirius throws an arm over his shoulder = Sirius getting an elbow to the gut
💫 So, you could imagine everyone’s surprise that when you come up from behind him where he’s sitting, lazily throw your arms over his shoulders and run your fingers through his hair, the man is practically purring. The softest smiles and eyes no one ever thought Regulus Black was capable of when he looked at you
-> “It’s like a different person. This isn’t the real Regulus, just some freaky clone.” Sirius once said.
💫 You blew his mind introducing him to muggle movies 
-> He’s a crier at all sad parts – even animated movies
💫 And he kept his promise – you gave him the chance to try, and he spent the rest of his life trying to love you the way you deserved to be
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