In the 19 years Steve's lived in this house, never once has he slammed his front door like that. Too scared of his parents' wrath should it have caused any damage.
It feels good.
He almost turns around to do it again, a fuck you to his parents and every decision they ever forced on him, but then he remembers. They're all in there. Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, Eddie, Robin. In his living room, making declarations and decisions about Steve's life for him. Or, well, one of them is.
Like his parents do. Did?
He didn't grab his keys, wallet, or even his coat, but he's not going back for them. It's cold, sure, but Steve's sure his anger will keep him warm until he reaches a destination. Any destination.
He just doesn't understand why- Why they keep doing this to him.
Why he keeps letting them.
No. No, that's a lie. He keeps letting them because he knows, deep down, he's not a fighter. Not for himself.
He'll put himself between the ones he loves and danger in a heartbeat; he's done that since the first time he watched a petal-faced monster peel its way out of the Byers' wall in '83.
But his parents trained the fight right out of him when it came to himself. It was easier to not argue, to just do what they wanted. They'd smile at him when he was good. They'd take him with on shorter business trips when he behaved. His mom would even allow a quick hug if he impressed a shareholder with how well-mannered and quiet he was.
He won their affections with obedience.
He's never- Nancy and he love each other now, but in the same way they all love each other after having survived the horrors the Upside Down. But Nancy never loved him the way he'd once loved her. That was bullshit.
Even Robin and Dustin. He knows they love him now. Will love him forever, going forward, but both had admitted to having a predetermined idea of who Steve was and what he was like and they weren't wrong but they also weren't right because Steve's never been Steve a goddamn day in his life.
Steve hadn't even known Steve until monsters came into his life.
The way everyone used to refer to him as the Steve Harrington was a judgement all its own. A thing that he was, and had no say to be otherwise.
Even Eddie, in the Upside Down, and now, in his own house.
Steve finally feels like he might be becoming who he really is and he's surrounded by friends and it just made him stupid. He'd thought it was confidence, when he pulled Eddie aside to talk, to confess, but then-
Eddie telling him he's confused. Like Steve is a child learning new concepts and not an adult who has been questioning how he feels about men since he first noticed other boys in middle school.
Eddie telling him, 'you don't want this, man. Not really.'
It's not fair.
Robin came out to him, and he'd just wanted to make her laugh so she would quit looking so scared. Eddie came out to him, and Steve had thanked him for trusting him. Jonathan, Nancy, and Argyle confess to all dating each other and Steve congratulated them. But Steve comes out and gets told he's confused?
And Steve didn't even refute it. Just got so hurt he couldn't be there anymore. Left his own house because he'd told Eddie he had a crush on him, and asked if he'd like to go on a date sometime and Eddie said no and told him he was confused.
Eddie doesn't get to decide that for Steve! No one but himself can decide if he like guys or not. No one gets to tell him he's confused about what he's feeling.
It's- that's bullshit, is what it is!
Steve turns on his heel and marches back to his house. His hurt has fully morphed to anger now.
Steve hasn't run away from a fight since '83, and he's not going to start now.
He rips his front door open and is greeted to everyone just inside the door, in various states of putting their winter clothes back on. All the faces look concerned, but he scans for Eddie's.
Eddie who looks relieved for all of two seconds, when it seems to dawn on him that Steve is angry, and it's directed at him.
"The appropriate response," Steve growls as he steps through his door and punctuates those words by slamming it shut again. (It's not as satisfying this time, because he sees how it makes his friends jump.) He barrels on with his words, eyes never leaving Eddie, "when someone comes out to you, is to say 'thanks for telling me' or perhaps even 'thanks for trusting me' or, if one is so inclined, to just say 'cool, dude' but you don't get- you don't get to tell me I'm confused!"
Eddie takes a step back, knocking directly in Argyle, who steadies him, but he doesn't say anything.
Maybe Steve should be more calm about this, given the audience, but he's not able to stop the words now that they've started. "I'm not confused, and I know exactly what I'd be getting into. You don't get to- to try and make your rejection my fault. If you don't wanna date me, just say so. But you don't get to try and tell me how I feel about you!"
From the corner of his eye, he can see Nancy trying to subtly shift herself and Jonathan away from the door, probably to get out of what really should be a private conversation, but Jonathan's a bit preoccupied by catching Robin around the waist as she lunges towards Eddie.
"What the fuck did you say, Munson!" Robin growls, arms swinging out like she's going to claw Eddie to death.
Argyle has inched back a bit, putting distance between him and Eddie in case Robin breaks free. "You dudes should probably talk this out in private."
"Byers, if you don't let me go right now-"
"Robbie, I got this," Steve says, because Robin shouldn't be turning on Jonathan when he's done nothing wrong. Robin continues to glare at Eddie for a few seconds before she makes eyes contact with Steve. He raises his brows slight -I got this- and she furrows hers -are you sure?-, so he tilts his head -yes, really- and she deflates in Jonathan's arms and allows him to drag her away.
"We'll just be in the rec room," Nancy says, looping her arm through Argyles and following after Jonathan.
Eddie doesn't bolt, which is a bit more than Steve expected. They both just stare at each other until they hear the click of the rec room door.
"Steve-"
"That was fucked up, Eddie," Steve interrupts.
"Yeah. It was," Eddie says, but doesn't offer up more, even though Steve is waiting for an apology.
"That kind of reaction is exactly why I didn't come out sooner. What would be the fucking point if no one even believed me? Or worse, if you'd given me that kind of reaction like, six months ago, I probably never admit to liking guys out loud ever again. You can't just- you can't decide this kind of shit for other people!"
"I know! I- I freaked out, and panicked, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Steve," Eddie says, and he sounds sincere and looks almost fragile while saying it that Steve loses a bit of his steam. He doesn't want to just keep yelling at Eddie.
"Yeah. Well. Thanks for apologizing," Steve mutters, crossing his arms with a huff.
Eddie worries his bottom lip before he seems to gather all his courage and says, "have I fucked everything up between us?"
"No. Not- I'm going to, like, need some time to get over my crush, but no. It's- it'll just be take time-"
"No! I mean, I can't- if you don't, uh, like me like that anymore I get it, but I- what I meant was. Well. No, I guess that answered my question."
Steve is confused, now. For real, and not about his sexuality. "What?"
"What?"
"You did it again. Deciding for me if I liked you or not."
"Shit. Fuck! Sorry," Eddie drops his head into his hands and groans. "I'm fucking this up so bad."
"Than use, like, real, whole sentences and speak to me!"
"I like you!" Eddie blurts. "I have a crush on you, too, but I- I fucked it up!"
"Yeah. Kinda."
Eddie makes a really pathetic noise at that.
"Not so much we can't, like, figure it out, though," Steve offers. "Not, like, right now, because I'm hurt and angry, but like, I'm not going to stop liking you because of one fight. Not. Uh, not now that I know you like me, too."
"Oh," Eddie whispers, then frowns. "For real?"
Steve rolls his eyes. "I said it, didn't I?"
"Sorry, it's just, just good things don't happen to me. It's- I'm processing, okay."
Steve lets out a long-suffering sigh and heads towards the rec room. "If you want to leave to 'process' alone, I get it, but you're welcome to stay. We can get this party re-started and hang out."
Eddie's silent a moment, and Steve thinks he's going to ask if Steve's sure, but instead he gets a quiet, "yeah. I'd like to stay." and the sound of Eddie's footsteps following him to the rec room.
-
@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss
642 notes
·
View notes
Danny Phantom doesn’t want to be king.
And the Observants also don’t want him to be king.
Frankly, very VERY few people want him to be king, dead or alive.
But opening the sarcophagus, even if it’s closed NOW, disrupted some magic protections. Until those can be fixed, summoning spells need to be answered by SOMEONE. Not all of summons, just like—once a month or so. Because if they don’t let that power outlet happen, all of those summon magics build up and suddenly Pariah Dark reigns again. Answering the summon basically dispels the built up magic, like opening a dam.
Again, Danny doesn’t WANT to do this either, but everyone else involved is a bad choice. He won’t even be named prince, because THEN that implies he COULD be king. He needs a title, of some kind, a position in the court, no matter how tenuous, so he can do the thing. Something where no one in their right or even WRONG mind would think to try to kill him for the position or try to marry him or something equally annoying to deal with.
So.
He becomes the Ghost Court Jester.
He even gets a fancy little outfit upgrade when he’s summoned, all black and white bell hats and shoes, a stupid little ruffle collar and black parachute pants, even face paint with a tiny dot of glowing neon green at the tip of his nose. The works. Better yet, if he hasn’t been ‘unsummoned’, his human form is just the exact same costume with swapped colors. He can change into his normal outfits, but until that circle has been disrupted, the next summon, or the next full or new moon, he’s stuck into the outfit when he first transforms from either form.
The Phantom Jester, which is a title more intimidating than Danny appears to be if we are to be honest, cracks jokes and never, EVER takes the summons seriously.
“Listen, I just had to get my hours in and it’s the last day of the lunar month, you got lucky I came at all.”
“I got the position by virtue of not wanting to go to Time Jail for a crime I technically didn’t commit and technically probably won’t but, well, eyes are the beholder of the grudge or something else equally cryptic to make you mad.”
“Is this a slumber party? … do you have cake? Bummer. Well, enjoy the bleeding walls then.”
“Whether I help you or not is entirely dependent on how well of a run down you can give me on this book I have to read that I have not at all touched.”
“Explain the reason in three sentences or less. I suggest less. And if it’s stupid I’m hitting you—oh you think this circle can contain me? Haha. It won’t.”
“Is that chicken blood? Why?? What did the chickens do to you?”
There are props in his costume but he literally never knows what he’s gonna pull out of his sleeves. Danny can’t even do a balloon animal and knows exactly zero card tricks, which would be more of an issue if the cards weren’t the size of a dinner plate. He barely even juggles and he’s honestly probably just utilizing his rarely-used telekinetic powers, but he does give people flowers if they haven’t been a total jerk. And if those flowers are like, rare and have seeds for propagation, well… he literally wouldn’t know. No, really, he doesn’t. He gets summoned by at least two ecology departments and he has no idea why, I mean, if he had a nickel—
He also had pies and is NOT afraid to use them.
1K notes
·
View notes
a man who just wants you and needs you and would do anything for you (gone sexual)
// this is a self-insert.. it can be abt anyone u want ;3 !! but if u need some help: atsumu, kaeya, zoro, wriothesely, shoyo.. literally anyone that’s funny but also ;) KUROO
he’s been making you laugh all night. lighthearted conversation not slowing down, and countless attempts at getting you to roll your eyes at him. he looks good, too, like, casual good. black sweats and freshly washed hair.
he’s sitting on your bed, feet flat on the floor looking up at you as you go about your business. he’s a strange guy, he says something unfunny, yet its hard to not laugh. its cringey and genuinely stupid, yet comforting all the same.
you’ve been parading some new clothes on for yourself, styling pieces for him to nod and approve at. the way you move around is everything to him. he could just watch you, permanently. he wouldn’t need his phone, or a book or a computer. just you.
and that has him hard in his pants. just watching you do your thing, your glow from previously being out, with friends and at the shops— it didn’t matter.
“hey,”
“yeah?” you cheerily turn toward him, eager to keep conversation alive.
“come here,” his smile has you complicit, walking over to him, “wanna sit?”
you look down.
eyes fluttering between how hard he is and his eyes— at how fast this all changed. he’s so pretty and you just want to nod and nod and nod to him, that you’d do anything with him.
“yes, i do. yeah, okay. i don’t wanna hurt you, though, so—”
“here,” he interrupts you, guiding your hips down, “yeah, just like that,” the genuine smile on his face gives you courage.
neither of you dare to move once you’re fully sat, no one shifting or grinding, just resting on each other.
“do you feel what you do to me?” he almost laughs in exasperation. everything he says is so genuine, “i’m hard just thinking about you.” the honesty hurts.
the man underneath you is everything. he’s so sincere now that he’s not trying to make you laugh, not trying to make you roll your eyes at the stupid things he says. he doesn’t have to work for your attention.
“can i move?” you whisper, his cock so painfully there. your eyes don’t move from his.
“yeah, just— shit,” he hisses, “fuck. slowly. just rock back and forth a little.”
and it’s so easy. it’s so easy and he’s looking right at you and he’s telling you how good it feels, and god, don’t you know how long he’s wanted this for?
“is this okay? i mean, does it feel good? am i doing—”
“perfect,” he reaches a hand up to the back of your head, “it’s perfect.” his large hand pulls your head down to his, face to face with what you’re doing, who you’re doing.
he looks down at your lips, breaking the unbreakable eye contact you’d had so far, and presses his lips against yours. your hips stutter here and there, unused to the motion, but desperate to keep it there.
“let me take care of you.”
you nod.
his hands are polite on your hips, firm in how he handles you. he slides himself to the head of the bed, patting right between his open legs.
“saved you a spot,” he grins. and you remember this is the same man from an hour ago. you roll your eyes, yet sit right there, your back pressed to his chest, “this okay?” he says with his hands so close to your waistband. you nod again.
“you’re very compliant with me.” he says, and there’s nothing— no words, that could justify that. because he’s right, “i almost expected you to laugh at me more.” his slender fingers dip beneath your clothes, and he’s kind of an asshole, but he’s touching you so nicely.
“oh,” you grab onto his wrist, “feels good,” he nods against your skin.
his other hand just wants to feel you. the outside of your neck, the crease in your elbow. the curve of your ear, the shape of your breasts.
it’s obsessive.
your head drops onto his shoulder, your eyes turning to meet his and you realise he’s been looking at you this whole time. you avert your eyes, a slight red brushing your cheeks.
he’s still looking at you with a slight smile on his face. “you shy?”
“a little,” you reply for integrity’s sake.
he absolutely beams.
all the while you can feel him right against your back. he’s right there. just playing with you, hooked on every whimper and moan and twitch he can get from you.
“i’ve been waiting so long for you, you have no idea.” his sincerity is overwhelming and so are his fingers.
you nod. because that’s all you can do. “another, another. please.” you pant towards him.
“another what? tell me what you want.” he’s smiling, you can feel it.
“finger. please. can i, please?” oh, he melts. your voice softening for him and your body tense against his cock, he feels like he’s going to cum in his pants. he might.
“of course. whatever you want.” his free hand glides against your jaw, fingers grazing the side of your neck. he needs to kiss it, and bite it and leave something there. maybe as proof that this is real, that he has you how he wants you. feeling good.
so he does, he laps at your neck slowly. his fingers don’t stop fingering you, but he raises his thumb to rub at you. and that has you really going. twitching back into him, jumpy moans and sweet noises coming from you, uncontrollably it seems. your hand goes to cover your mouth.
“don’t ruin a good thing, baby. move your hand. let me hear you.”
“it’s embarrassing,” you stutter out.
he grins again, teeth grazing your neck. “i know. it’s okay.”
and it’s when you cum, with hips bucking and hand gripped onto his wrist, that he doesn’t stop.
tears well up in your eyes, “i came. i came, i came,” you chant, maybe he didn’t notice, maybe he didn’t realise.
“i know.” there’s no emotion in his voice, he’s so concentrated, so invested in what he can get out of you. what sounds, what actions, the way you move. it’s like he’s on a timer, he only has so much of it with you and he needs to milk it to its fullest.
“it’s sensitive, please. it’s too much,” tears well up in your eyes.
“you gonna cry?”
you nod against him.
“i’m sorry,” he presses his lips to where he’s bitten your neck, “brave girl. tough it out.”
what he says leaves you with no choice. something clicks in your head and you nod over and over again.
you whine and cry, blubbering words and sentences that don’t make sense. sensing that you’re going to cum again, you push against his fingers.
“don’t. stay still.”
“i can’t,” you whine, “i can’t again.”
“you can.” he smiles. he smiles and smiles and all you can do is twitch and cry out.
and when you cum for him again, pleasure overwhelming every part of you, he flips you onto your back, strong hands gently laying you back.
“my turn,” his grin melts as he presses the head of his cock into you. he preens at the feeling of you hugging him, “oh fuck. feels perfect. you’re perfect.”
your eyes scrunch closed, blubbering like someone who’s forgotten speech.
he’s sliding in and out of you, wanting to feel every single centimetre of himself in you. it’s heaven and he can’t believe that this will have to end.
your head starts to hit the soft headboard, tears still pilled up from the overstimulation on your body.
and then it just stops. he pulls out of you.
“back to you baby,” his hands slide against you once more, and you know it’s going to end with you sobbing against him.
a fun night.
378 notes
·
View notes