#when he gets his SHIT TOGETHER and actually takes his life seriously oh HE COULD B A BIG FOOTBALL PLAYER IDC | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bigfatbimbo · 3 months

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And I saw sparks —

1.2k Words,, Lucifer x reader

a/n — So this was actually a request at some point but it was literally lost to the tumblr void. I cannot find it for the life of me but it had to do with brushing Lucifer’s feathers so here we are.

summary — Date night for the reader and Lucifer quickly turns into a bonding session where the reader grooms Lucifer’s unkept and touch starved wings.

warnings — Fluff, gn reader, obnoxious flirting, getting together (officially), Lucifer being touch starved and sad.

Lucifer groaned as he tried uselessly to comb the feathers on his far back. He didn’t know if he had enough time to finish pruning when he started, and now, barely a third done, he was sure he didn’t.

His third date with you was in ten minutes. In ten minutes you would show up at his door and expect a fully prepared, well put together, king of hell to sweep you off your feet.

How could he do that when he couldn’t even brush his own damn feathers? What are you going to think when you see him? Maybe, he thought, you’d simply scoff and leave him totally alone with poorly groomed wings.

How pathetic would that be? He grumbled to himself, dreading the last few moments he had to prepare. What was it now, six minutes? If he’s lucky, eight.

Lucifer was so wrapped up in these pessimistic thoughts that he didn’t hear the footsteps approaching behind him as he scrambled and whined over his knotted feathers.

“Lucifer, you okay over there?” You asked from the door way.

He jumped back, brush getting caught up in the fluff of his wings and yanking two feathers out, making him let out a yelp and fall over.

“Jesus christ, Luci—“ you laugh going over to help him up.

A blush spread across his cheeks. “I didn’t know you’d be here so soon,” he explained brushing himself off, “Wait how did you—“

“You left the door open and I heard very loud groaning so—“ You gesture to him, “—I thought i’d figure out where it was coming from. Oh, and you being demon royalty and all, I don’t think you should just leave your door open like that.”

He could tell you were joking and he was overjoyed that your attention hadn’t fallen to his exposed wings yet, so he played along.

“Actually, i’d argue that’s the very reason I can leave the door open,” he puffed his chest in his attempt to gloat his power.

This backfired when your gaze drifted to his roughly unkept feathers. Embarrased, he drew back.

“Uh, I was just finishing brushing them. They’ll be going away now, bye bye feathers,” he awkwardly laughed and rambled as he turned around him to hide his wings.

“Wait, if you’re trying to groom them then,” your hands hovered over the wings before retrieving the brush from the table, “I can help with that. I had a friend way back when who—“

“Nononono,” he chirped, scooting back slightly, “I’m supposed to be taking you out and— and I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Lucifer, it’s seriously no trouble. Shit, if anything it’s fun. Let me see,” you gently sit him down and take a seat on the floor behind him.

Your hands find his feathers and begin combing through the unkept bits Lucifer couldn’t reach himself.

He tried with all of his might to stop his wings from flapping about. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel incredibly soothing having someone else care for his sensitive wings.

“Oh god,” he sighs, letting his head fall back slightly as you work your way through his feathers. He collected himself seconds later, not wanting to seem weird, “Sorry, it’s just been a while since anyone’s…”

He trailed off so you took pity and finished the sentence for him, “No, it’s okay. It’s cute how flustered you get over shit like this, anyways.”

Your teasing smile makes his shoulders tighten and his head snap back in your direction, “I am not flustered,” he corrected, cheeks reddening, “maybe just discombobulated.”

“Uh huh,” you grin, “Of course, your highness. Are you too good for a little flirting, now?”

“Oh, Lucifer Morningstar is never not ready for a little flirting,” he smirked, trying to hold himself together under your gentle touch.

“Oh yeah? Hit me with your best line.”

“I—“ He struggled, “Uhm. Okay, well maybe I’m a little rusty.”

You rake your fingers through his feathers once more, softening them to the touch, “I’m sorry, I was under the impression that the king of hell had game.”

“I do ‘have game,’ excuse you,” he did air quotes with his hands, “You just put me on the spot. It doesn’t help what you’re doing with my wings, either.”

His snobbish royalty tone was alarmingly present and he had his arms crossed as he pouted.

It’s true, usually, Lucifer was quite the flirt. If there’s one thing he knew about himself is that he was a hit with the ladies, in his experience, at least.

But maybe it’s because you’re the first person he’s been on a date with since Lilith. Or maybe it’s the way you’re softly raking your fingers through his knotted feathers. Either way, it was making his brain feel fuzzy.

“I’ll believe when I see it, Luci,” you laugh to yourself.

“Oh, i’ll get you good when I catch you off guard, believe me.” Lucifer bragged.

After a moment, the laughter died down as you focused on your work. Every now and then you drew long content sighs from Lucifer.

Although you seemed happy enough with the silence, Lucifer squirmed uneasily. He felt guilt build up in his stomach.

“So this is some date, huh? Curtesy of the King of Hell, you’re welcome,” he said glumly, picking at a scratch in his marble floor, “Sorry I couldn’t have made this more enjoyable.”

You caught him off guard with a deep, warm-hearted laugh. The kind that made him else feel like he’s missed a totally obvious joke or reference.

“What’s so funny?” Lucifer asked, clearly perplexed by your response.

“Luci, we’re in literal hell. Compared to everyone else in shit-hole, you’re one of the better people I’ve dated.” You smiled, freshening up a few feathers, “There, done. Good as new.”

Lucifer grabbed a mirror from off the table and examined your work before realizing what was just said.

“Dating?” his spirits rise, hands coming up to his chest before turning to you, “Are we dating?”

The surprise on your face makes him smile cockily. “Catch you off guard, with that one?” he brags.

“In your dreams,” you recover quickly, “And, yeah, I did say that, didn’t I?” You look at his expectant face, he grinned brightly.

“Well, you heard it yourself, pretty boy. It seems like we’re dating now,” you laugh and caress his cheek with your thumb.

Completely dumbly, he giggles and leans in your touch.

“Wow,” he simply says. He rests against your hand for a while longer before you pull him in for a kiss.

It’s gentle and sweet while it lasts, and when you break apart, you pepper kisses on his cheeks and nose.

“Stop it, stop!” he laughs as you come to another finish on his lips. “So, uh, do you still want me to take you out?”

“Actually, where’s your tv in this place? Let’s watch a movie, instead.”

And so you do, cuddled up on the couch together with Lucifer’s newly groomed wings draped over you both.

He nuzzled into your chest, desperate for human contact after being alone for so long. And oh, he was especially glad he was getting it from you.

a/n — Was listening to sparks by coldplay ON REPEAT while writing this, so that’s why the title is like that <3

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #luc

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dolliestfairy · 10 months

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𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟'𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦 𝅄ֹ ׅ♡ ೀ ʚĭɞ ‌ིᨴּ ˒˒۪

(Crazy) Yandere [Nerd] Boy x Soft!Chubby!Fem!Reader ༢𓏲๋ ⊹ ֢

𔓘 Tw : Kidnapping, Extreme Noncon (y'all are strangers bro), Rushed Fanfic, Mentions Of Blood, Virginity-Take, Extreme Somnophilia, Stalking, Extreme Obsession, Impregnate, A little of Bondage, Seriously dude you're fucking with a crazy nerd boy who is a freaking stranger to you like y'all didnt know each other but this madman is really know you to the soul from all his stalking and stuff. this fanfic is quite the Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Chubby reader fics with no skintone of reader mentioned.

𔓘 A/N : y'all.. this are f***king insane bro.. like this is kinda disturbing imo as a writer of this and also a lot of suffocating. Read at your own risk. me myself actually like the extreme yandere fics but this is still the prefix of it. stay safe while reading this because again; y'all are a stranger!! if a dark content yandere isnt your cup of tea then i highly recommend you to spend your shit at other blogs!! ty.

W/C : 6,4K for Stranger Fucking 💀

Currently thinking abt nerdy men who looks like they would shit in their pants when someone raised their voice at them, but the truth is; he's really really quite the strong. he's a nerdy man who arent shy at all (or maybe just a little) and he's simply just dont like to be bothered by anyone else. he's also a nerdy man who told himself countless time to just focus on studying and studying, and at the first moment; he actually manage to do it within his daily life, well until he met you.

You; plump, soft looking girl with chubby cheeks and doe eyes. you dont even know how much you affect him didnt you? arent you just dumb? walking there and then with such a tiny skirt that almost showed up your plump ass cheeks. walking down in the hallway with such dress that hugged all of your curves together perfectly. oh if only you find out how every night he would spend his time in his bedroom alone while his hand thrust his own cock up and down, thinking about you. he would be drown in his thoughts about how you would find out all his dark fantasy about you. but.. he do realize he shouldnt be doing this actually, no really, he should just be studying, but the soft laugh and those.. those whimpers terror you gave him just drove him to his edge.

And the fact that he masturbate about you when you both are clearly still stranger - is fucking crazy. he mostly had heard of how'd you talk, whimper and moan (wait.. how did.. he know?) and stuff like that while your own self being completely un guard around him. he swear to his thumbs he hated you for making him felt like this, i mean how could you?? a plump girl just trying to get into her daily life as normal as usual can make some nerd dude mad in love with her without her being aware at all?! he cant do this.. he cant do this anymore..!

And he really cant do it anymore. as he go to your apartement at midnight after finding out where you live. peeking through the window to what you were doing only to find you dressing in a short pastel rainbow dress lingerie with big bows placed in the back of your hair, dancing to some songs.. and oh my god he cant even explain how much he want to ripped those colorful dress lingerie off your body. he has no doubt at all that you have the most beautiful body he would ever sees in his entire life.

As he drown himself in his own thoughts until he heard a telephone ring -- it was your friend! your male friend! as you picked the phone up, talking with your friends, while he sees with his own eyes about the way you laugh softly at what-god-knows your friend was muttering to you. he doesnt and he would rather bury himself alive than admitting about the fact that he was really, really, envy and jealous. as he harshly breath at you, while all his body is literally focus with you. his eyes seeing you from head-to-toe, his ears listening carefully about the conversation you're having as his mouth try to resist to open it again because well um -- he is quite the drooling over there. that was it until you start to walk towards the front door where he was outside!!

As he sees you carefully, while hiding himself in the corner, and focused on the door handle you're about to open. until........

Until he quickly enough to put his arms and placed it onto your mouth, shuting you up until you passed out and bring you to your new home his home. as he open the bondage he placed at your mouth, and pinch your chubby cheeks until he sees your whimpering again. thats it! thats the thing that always drove him mad everydsy everynight. thinking about you whimper at whatever he was doing was like a holy candle for him. he then stood himself up, looking at your half unconscious body, and then start to strip you... to naked.

As he softly ripped all the dress lingerie you weared, and after he got the look at your boobs, he slowly put his hands up at where your nipples on, and start playing with it. while his eyes focused on your face, waiting the reaction he have been wait. and until then... you are moaning. honestly he have been thinking that he was in a dream that time. i mean -- he do have seen you moan by the way he always check on you secretly.. but he never except his own self to be the only one who could capable enough to hear your soft moan. as he sped up the phase of his hands playing your nipple, while his own other hand strat to undress himself.

And until he and your own finally completely naked. and... oh god to be damned. he swear he always sees you at some kind of whore while your other friend sees you just as an innocent normal girl, and he always have no doubt about his feelings That you have such an erotic body and at the end.. he was actually right. you do have a very very.. pleaseable body. as he placed his hands into your half unconscious body, lowering it until his hands touch your private part -- your pussy. he slowly but surely put his 3 long fingers in to play with you, and to be surprised or.. shocked even, that you are so so fucking damn tight! he even sure that your pussy is one of the most tightest thing he'd ever placed his hands on, as he quickly sped-ing up his pace at playing your pussy, watching you moan and whimper become one, he cant believe what he saw. you're literally still half unconscious! but yet you somehow still manage to bring out the sound he would die for with! at this rate he doesnt know if he wants to wake you up or just let you still be half unconscious so when you wake up, you're gonna have a some extra surprised with your naked body that has been covered with his cums. as he thinking about it while he placed his (quite big) cock at your pussy. trying to rip those tight wall of your pussy off. thats what he was trying to do until your pussy start showing a little drop of blood out of it.

Oh.. he get it.. yeah he actually get it. You're a Virgin arent you? oh.. such sweet cheeks.. well too bad yoi're going to give all of your innocents left as his own hands and dicks. the body of someone you dont even know at all. he actually felt (just a little) bit of guilt. but who cares anyway? you're literally still half unconscious! as he said it to himself while he tried his possible to pound your ass up at your fat pussy. going in and up in every corner. at first it was slowly, but then he start to change the position into a mating press just so the cums and the blood are still there. as he quickly but surely speeding his pace up like a mad man. at this rate he was at the edge of doesnt gave a fuck about the fact that you're still half unconscious but then he's also at the edge of shock and unbelief because of how you are still not waking up at his pounding.

And all of those pounding ends when his cock start to dried out with how your fat pussy suck all his cums and sperma in. pulling his cock out of your pussy only to see the view of the inside of your pussy, being drown with his cums. as his hands hold your body up just so all the cums he had restored isnt goung to spill. and until then he slowly put his hands down, letting your body down into the mating press position, watching your pussy spilling all of his cums like a fucking waterfall. (his cum waterfall) and then he placed his palm hands at your cheeks softly, while quietly muttering about how he would take care of you, and keeping you safe and that you wouldnt need to be scared of him (even after all his done to you) as he placed his other hand at your undressed belly, and then stroke it with such gentleness because he knew that right now, right at the almost-morning time, that you're going to be swellen with thousands - thousands of his sperm, and at the end of the month, he would see you placed your own hands at your bellies who at that time was full with his kid. oh how he cant wait... he just hope that you wouldnt be freaked out about the fact that you just found yourself in a unrecognizeable place with a literal fucking stranger who is now has placed a baby inside of you. yes, a baby -- his baby.

TSUKISHIMA KEI, ITOSHI RIN, MEGUMI, Itachi, Shikamaru, Nanami, Neji, Tobirama, Deku, KUNIMI, Muichiro, SEMI EITA, Konoha Akinori, Venti, XIAO, AL-HAITAM, Akaashi, KOZUME KENMA, & hatake kakashi.

did i forgeting anyone? insert ur fav!

Dolliestfairy's © Works. Do Not Repost My Creation at Any Platfroms Without My Permission.

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2knightt · 14 days

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HII!! could you write the gang with a reader that has an rbf and seems really intimidating/unapproachable but is a sweetheart? they arent very talkative and seem very cold but their love language is acts of service/gift giving & sorta quality time?? <33

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ pretty as a vine, sweet as a grape. ⋄ 𓍯

…REQUESTED: you never judge a book by it’s cover. especially when it comes to y/n!

tags/warnings: people being judgy asf/spreading rumours, gang defending reader with their soul, reader is a softie i fear, reader is kinda shy, probably stupid:3c, steve threatening a manLMFAO

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ READER IS SO ME CODED HELLO also if two-bits part sounds stupid it ‘s because i’m high rn and even if can admit it’s a little iffy

—

dallas winston

thought of you as someone to be threatened by at first ngl

he heard of this scary, mean mugged, tuff looking girl and went ‘mh. an enemy🐺😒’

he went up to you one day, acting all tuff and shit just for you to look him up and down and nervously wave

look, he may not be the smartest cookie but he can see someone shy a mile away. and when he seen you wave, he felt like such an ass LMFAO

did he show it? no. obviously.

this is dallas. he’s an asshole.

“little miss tough girl, huh?”

“…pardon?”

that teasing from him DID continue until you walked away because dallas is the type to never back down, even when he’s wrong

expect for the next time you met him!!!!

he was actually asking you your name, where you’re from, etc, etc!!!

turning a new leaf dare i say…

and everything after that was history! cutest scary looking couple ever!

HE THINKS IT’S SOOO FUNNY THAT PEOPLE ARE SCARED OF YOU LMFAOOO

he plays into it sm if someone brings it up bro

“y/n? like..scary y/n?”

“yeah, like scary y/n. and i’ll get ‘er on ya if you keep talkin’ ‘bout her.”

“oh!😰”

he thinks it’s so silly to see you look really pissed off when he isn’t around just to greet you and see your whole demeanour change!!

dallas thinks it’s so cute😭 it’s like one of his favourite things about you!

“😠😒”

“hey, baby.”

“oh! hi, dal!<3”

LMFAO IMAGINE SOMEONE SEEING YOU, A MEAN LOOKING GIRL, SHOPPING FOR MENS LEATHER JACKETS

yuppp spoil that dickhead!😫 he lovelovelovesss getting gifts, ESPECIALLY from u!!!

if you’re clingy, i feel like he wouldn’t mind it. he teases THE FUCK out of u tho!😊

“big tough girl wants to hold hands, eh?”

“…yea😞.”

“awh, look at ya. come ‘ere.”

johnny cade

you might think he’d be scared and intimidated, right? but NO! he’s literally bff’s with ponyboy, he knows damn well what rbf is!

you two are sooo cute together

little kicked, scared puppy with his feral doberman!!!

tells people to stfu whenever they try and spread rumours that you’re scary, mean, and rude.

“you’re dating y/n? don’t you know she-“

“i don’t care, shut up. ‘s not like you know her😒.”

sometimes refuses your gifts.

johnny’s not used to them :( but all u gotta do is say please and flutter your lashes and u got em!!!!

“i can’t take it.”

“please?😞”

“…okay😣.”

and he DOES NOT regret it! he might fight you at first, but he cherishes those gifts with his life<3!

loveloveloveLOVESSS having u around constantly!! since your love language is quality time, you two are always hanging out together.

and, with your scary looks, you often keep the socs away from him!

hip-hip, hooray‼️‼️

the gang was like…worried for johnny at first.

THEY DIDN’T KNOW U WERE COOL THO😭😭💔💔💔

they were all like, “??seriously, johnny?? you pick the meanest girl?? ever???” and johnny was QUICK to defend. “y’all ain’t even meet her, and you’re already sayin’ she’s bad for me?”

when they did though, they were like ‘ohhhh….she really isn’t rude…..oh….’

HE’S SO PROUD TO DATE U THO LMFAOOO

and to know the real you?? treats it like an HONOUR

ponyboy curtis

was intimidated by you.

forgot he was also like you and accidentally glares at people who walk past him LMFAOOOO

You two are like two peas in a pod istg!!

“you look mean from far away,”

“???so do you, pony??”

“…no??”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ‘NO’?”

mean looking couple who are truly just a bunch of nerds deep down to their soul<3

the gang was a little protective of ponyboy until they realized ur just like him LMFAO

They get having an rbf<3

pony loves spending time with you!

gift him a book and he’ll love you forever!!! (maybe even read it to you when you two are finally alone to help you fall asleep🤍)

he’s such a cutie…..

stays close to you in public because he thinks you’re scarier looking than anyone he’s ever met😊😊.

“cm’ere,”

“why?🤨”

“BECAUSE🙄!”

SCARY DOG Y/N IS REAL.

glares at anyone who goes around telling people that you’re mean and rude.

if looks could kill, they’d be dead already!!!

ponyboy does not fuck around with u i fear.

Sodapop Curtis

LMFAOOO GREEK GOD OF A MAN WITH HIS PISSED OFF GF WHO IS NERVOUSLY HOLDING HIS HAND !!!

he was NOT afraid of you!! in fact, he thought the rumours of you being an asshole were all fake

“you talkin’ about y/n?”

“yes, bro! they’re so rude-“

“how do you know?”

“well, i don’t-“

“so, shut up?😒”

cuz like??? did they not bother to understand you???

soda literally made it his mission to prove that you weren’t a dick!!😭😭

and GODDAMN HE WAS SO RIGHT

you’re such a sweetheart to soda! he lovesss telling people about how cute you are around him since it’s his own way to squash the rumours.

“my y/n is so sweet, you wouldn’t get it.”

“isn’t she the same girl who beat the soc to a pulp?”

“she can barely kill a fly.”

you don’t need to do much to scare off the girls that flirt with him at the DX, just a nice little glare every now and then and they’re already gone!

(soda doesn’t have to know that you play into the rumours sometimes. it’s our little secret.)

steve randle

HATES EVERYONE WHO TALKS ABOUT YOU

he’s petty AS FUCK LMFAOOO

they can’t handle the randle😜💯

“ew, y/n-“

“MAN, GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY FACE WITH THAT WHAT DO YOUUU KNOW ABOUT Y/N🗣️‼️”

that was an over exaggeration but you get the point.

gets very defensive when people try and ‘warn’ him about you lmfao

gift him a tool box and he’ll use it until it’s literally falling apart at the bolts<3

no seriously. it could be holding on by one screw and he’ll still use it. he doesn’t gaf. steve will use anything u give him.

he accepts ur rbf cause he thinks it’s SO FUNNY?? like he’ll see you far away with your friends looking all angry before one of them says a really funny joke and just watches your expression change so quickly

one of his fav things ever<3!

two-bit mathews

he makes so much jokes about it LMFAOOO

“jesus, y/n! you sure yer glare ain’t the thing that killed the dinosaurs?”

—

“swear i see the devil in yours eyes sometimes. it looks soooo good on you, though🤭🤭”

HE THINKS ITS SO ATTRACTIVE

and he lovesss your sweetheart side sm it’s like he gets best of both worlds

RAHH GIFT TWO-BIT MICKEY PLUSHIE OR ELSE

He’d totally have it on his bed 24/7. his sister has tried to steal it before to scare him btw.

skmetimes just to spend time together with him—you just go walking around town with him while he has an arm around your shoulder the whole time<3

#2knightt #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston x reader #johnny cade x reader #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #steve randle x reader #darry curtis x reader #two-bit mathews x reader #two-bit x reader

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estrellami-1 · 10 months

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If I Should Stay

Y’all are the best. Seriously. I love y’all. One quick note: if y’all reblog, please include the tag “#if I should stay” (mind the capital i) so people can find the rest of the parts! Thanks so much!!! ❤️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Eddie does end up following Robin because he does not, in fact, have a death wish.

Even if, apparently, he dies in the future. Go figure.

She instructs him to grab his guitar. “Why in the fuck,” he starts, then reconsiders when Robin whips around to stare at him. “Anyone ever tell you you’re terrifying?”

Robin shrugs a shoulder. “Not as much as they should.”

She stashes her bike in the back of his van and directs him to the Harrington residence, where Steve’s waiting, arms crossed, wondering smile on his face. “Miracle worker,” he calls, and Robin laughs as she grabs her bike from the back.

“Hate to break it to ya, Dingus, but you’re just not scary.”

“I’m plenty scary. I’ve got a nail bat.”

“Right, because that would beat Nance’s sawed-off in a fight.”

“Hey, it could! You never know! They’ve got different ranges!”

Robin rolls her eyes at Eddie, like she’s asking if he can believe it, which. No. No he can’t.

“Sorry,” he says, regretting everything when they both look at him. “What the actual fuck is happening?”

“Come inside,” Steve says, suddenly all business. “We’ve got a lot to discuss.” His eyes find Robin’s. “One of ‘em took Barb last night.”

“Fuck,” Robin whispers.

“Yup. Will’s been missing for two days. Maybe, if we get down there soon enough…”

“Let’s hope so. Which one of the rugrats found El?”

“I think they all did? But Mike’s the one who took her in.” He shakes his head, mouth a grim line. “I saw Dustin today. They’re kids, Robs.”

“So are we,” she reminds him, heaving a tired-sounding sigh. “A buncha kids fighting real-life monsters.”

“Monsters?” Eddie parrots.

Somehow they end up inside while Steve goes to pick up the Party. Who the party is, Eddie doesn’t know. Just like he doesn’t know why he’s in Steve’s Harrington’s house with someone who isn’t Steve Harrington.

“Who’s the Party?” He asks Robin. “And why am I here again? If I die, doesn’t that mean I shouldn’t be here? Should be somewhere far, far away instead?”

“The Party’s a group of kids Steve babysits. They’re the first ones to go through this whole mess. And admittedly, you’re here partially because you can help, and partially for selfish reasons.” She offers him a lopsided grin. “Believe it or not, watching you die was kinda traumatic.”

“Right,” he says slowly. “And you and Steve? How do you know each other? He and Nancy Wheeler are the talk of the town, and if he’s stepping out-”

“He wouldn’t,” she says harshly. “Ever.” She takes a breath. “Two years from now, or a year ago, he and I work together in a mall. Long story short, we get captured and tortured by Russians. High on truth serum, I tell him I’m a lesbian in the bathroom, we help take down the big bad, and boom. Instant platonic soulmates.”

Eddie gapes at her. “What the fuck.”

“Just about,” she nods. “Oh, and the kids love D&D, so you’ll have plenty to talk about. They’re little shits but they’re also kinda great once you get to know them.”

Eddie stares at her. The front door opens, and Steve walks in, followed by a gaggle of preteens and Nancy Wheeler.

“Robs,” Steve says, not slowing his stride as he begins taking the stairs two at a time. “Bathroom. Now.”

Robin grimaces. “Breakdown time,” she murmurs to Eddie, then follows Steve, leaving everyone else staring at each other.

“So,” Eddie says. “I heard you like D&D?”

A dark-haired kid who looks suspiciously like Nancy narrows his eyes. “You play?”

“Play!” Eddie repeats. “I don’t just play, my young friend, I am the greatest Dungeon Master this side of the Mississippi.”

A curly-haired kid begins to grin. “I think we should put that to the test.”

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Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @little-gae-shit

#if I should stay #eventual steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #dustin henderson #he’s the curly-haired boy at the end #in case it wasn’t obvious lmao #time travel au #fix it fic #starambles

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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 1 year

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jealousy, jealousy || Lee Know x Reader

Summary: "Sure, Minho missed an opportunity to spend more time around you in a relaxed setting, but is he upset about it? Does he get annoyed when he hears you talk with the guy behind him? Does hearing you chuckle at the guy’s stupid jokes, probably just to be polite, ‘cause he’s not that funny, make him want to claw the dude’s eyes out?

Well. Yes."

Or: You're working with a different partner for a group assignment, and Minho's totally chill about it.

Word count: 4.9k

Genres: college AU, coffee shop AU, strangers to lovers

Warnings & Tags: jealousy, kissing, minor language, tooth-rotting fluff, seriously this is so fluffy, reader is implied to have social anxiety, Thunderstorm

series masterlist

A/N: This is the second story I've written where Lee Know's a barista and cats are involved. It probably says something deep about me, but what? I hope you'll enjoy the fic, please consider letting me know your thoughts and reblogging the fic if you do~

Minho doesn't know exactly when he noticed you, or when you started appearing in his life. It’s kind of annoying actually, because he knows he noticed you because he kept seeing you around, but he has no way of pinpointing it. What he does know is that you started showing up at the coffee shop where he worked, twice every week. That wasn’t that big a deal, you were far from being the only one the only one, but it was a shop that was pretty out of the way, near an old building that was only used for a few classes, as far as he knew, so it wasn’t that frequented.

In fact, you could almost say that the people who bothered to come here were the weirdos who wanted to avoid the other permanently full coffee shops on campus. Which was fine by Minho, who wasn’t paid enough to deal with that sort of crowd.

Anyway, at some point, Minho’s brain had to have put together he was seeing you around quite a bit, and finally he managed to figure out that it was because you were in one of the classes he was rudely forced to take outside of his major. In his defense, it took him so long because he didn’t really like people, as a rule, and he paid as little attention to them as possible. His friends were enough of a hassle to deal with already.

It makes it all the more frustrating that he can’t tell what it was about you that caught his attention. It has to have been something. Once he starts trying to understand it, more things come to light. Like the fact that your lips move but your voice doesn’t come out when you thank him for giving you your order, or the sigh of relief you always seem to heave out when you let yourself fall at your favorite table, the one in the corner, where you sit with your back to the window.

Actually, from what he can see, you appear to do your best to stay out of people’s way. It’s a multitude of little things, from how you always sit in the middle of rows in the amphitheater and wait until everyone’s cleared out to leave, to how you keep close to the walls in the hallways, eyes usually on the floor, to how, on the couple of occasions when your voice can be heard in class, it’s only after the professor’s been waiting for an answer for an increasingly embarrassing amount of time.

The first time it happens — the first time Minho notices it happening, anyway — he has to make you repeat yourself louder, and it seems almost painful for you to raise your voice.

Then there’s that time when someone accidentally backs into you and the books and papers you’re carrying spill onto the floor.

“Shit, sorry,” they say, and you reply immediately, like it’s a reflex, “Oh, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it”, but afterwards, as you kneel next to the papers, you let out a defeated sigh, just staring at the mess for a few seconds. And that’s when Minho can’t stay in place anymore.

“Oh, thanks, you don’t have to do that,” you say, again, with that cadence that makes him feel like these are sentences that pour out of you without you getting much of say, so deeply ingrained in you that you can’t control them.

Then you glance up at him, and your eyes widen, little mouse caught in the cat’s gaze. He feels his lips curving into a grin. You recognize him, and you’re being very obvious about it too.

Cute.

“Thank you,” you repeat, taking your stuff from his hands and dipping your head to stop looking at him once you get control of yourself again.

“Vanilla latte, right?” he asks, and he probably shouldn’t be this amused by the way your head snaps back up and you freeze, but it’s— It’s kind of adorable. Though you’re obviously trying to reign yourself in, there is something so sincere about it that he can’t help but be enticed by it.

“Um,” you say. “Yes.” And then you visibly search for something to say next, rolling your lips together as if they’ll figure something out of a list of socially acceptable answers. As fun as this is, Minho decides to put you out of your misery.

For now anyway.

“I’ll give you a discount on the next one,” he says, and then he’s gone before you can start saying “You don’t have to do that”.

He actually slides the next one to you over the counter and tells you that it’s ‘on the house’. You hesitate for a few seconds, and he thinks you’re going to refuse, before you bow your head politely and thank him for it. You don’t quite look up at him after that, but a bright smile has spread on your lips.

Cute, he thinks, again, and then he doesn't think of it much at all. A part of his brain was intrigued by the novelty that you represented, and that part has been satiated now.

At least, that’s what he assumes.

You get his attention again a few weeks later. It’s fairly early in the morning and, as Minho does whenever he gets a chance, he’s behind the half abandoned building near the café, setting up some food for the cats that have taken residence here. It’s something he’s not really allowed to do, but also he’s never asked permission, so no one's told him that yet, which means that he’s not not allowed to do it either.

Still, when he hears footsteps approaching as he’s surrounded by a chorus of meows, there’s a part of him that considers making a run for it.

But then he’d have to run.

Which he doesn’t like doing.

You appear at the corner of the building before he’s made his decision. When your eyes meet, he half expects you to turn around and pretend you haven’t seen him. He’s pretty sure you’ve done that after a class, recently. You swallow, but you keep walking towards him, kneeling by his side and petting the cats as the braver ones rub themselves against your legs.

Whoever said that the surest way to a man’s heart was through his stomach clearly wasn’t obsessed with cats, because liking cats is maybe the most important requirement for Minho.

“Hi,” you say, at a surprisingly normal volume, and then, cadence a little too fast, “I have some cat food.”

Is it weird that he finds that attractive? It’s probably weird.

“Have you been stalking me?” he says more than he asks, vaguely aware of the fact that there’s something ironic about him saying those words.

Your eyes widen and you quickly shake your head.

“No! I— have classes in there,” you point at the building, “and I’ve— seen you come around here. We’ve been told we couldn’t feed the cats,” you add with a slight pout. “We still do it when we can get away with it, but it's good that someone is also taking care of them.”

And you break the law for the sake of cats. Isn’t this amazing.

“I can help you buy food,” you say. “If you’d like.”

He doesn't reply right away, and when the silence stretches a second too long, you start speaking again, faster and your voice lower now.

“Or not, you know, I don’t want to impose anything, I mean, I didn’t want to intrude—”

On the one hand, that seems more like you, based on the glimpses of you he’s been getting, and on the other, he’s not sure how to shut that down. The truth is, he can barely fit the expenses in his budget. He literally can't afford to refuse your help — but he doesn't think he’d do it if he could.

“You can help,” he says, interrupting you in the middle of a sentence where you’re basically apologizing for existing, and that seems to knock the breath out of you.

“Oh,” you say, “that’s good.”

He wonders if you walk into interactions with a prepared set of sentences and panic when anyone goes off script. That sounds kind of exhausting.

“I’ll bill you,” he adds, and the feeling he gets when you let out a light laugh is one he can’t quite explain. There’s a sense of pride in it, but also some much deeper satisfaction at the feeling of having gotten you to let that guard slip, even for just a few seconds.

“I have to go to class,” you say, getting up while you rummage through your tote bag to hand him a package of dry food. “But I’ll, uh, see you around?”

There’s an expectancy to your tone, a hope even. He wonders if you’re aware of it. Either way, that sincerity, which he’d noticed before, remains pleasantly refreshing.

“Sure,” he says.

The next time you show up at the coffee shop, Friday a few minutes after six, like always, he has your vanilla latte ready.

After that, Minho finds it fascinating to see how differently you react to him, depending on the situation. Every now and then, you meet him behind the building, usually early in the morning, before there are too many people around. They would probably recognize you, and then you’d get in trouble, you explain. Your voice is lighter then, your body more relaxed. You manage to chat with him, to make small talk.

‘Manage’ really is the word for it, because your behavior is worlds apart when he sees you in class. It’s clear by now that this just isn’t your element, so you stick to your script, and Minho just isn’t a part of it. He doesn’t take it too personally, considering that no one else seems to be either.

It’s obvious to him that you get there with the objective of being in and out of the building as efficiently as possible, and with as little interaction with others as you can get away with. He does approach you still on a couple of occasions, one of them being when the classes before yours ran late and everyone was waiting in the hallway. You're focused on your phone then, and you jump when he says your name.

“How are you doing?” he asks, leaning against the wall next to you.

“Oh,” you say, which he thinks is just your filler word to give yourself time to figure out what to say next. “Um. Good. How are you?”

“Good.”

Someone else would bristle at the awkwardness of the exchange, but Minho is mostly amused by it. After a few seconds of very visibly searching for something to say, you come up with “…and how are the cats?”, though your tone is hesitant, unsure.

“They’re good too,” he grins. “Went to visit them this morning. Also, I might have found an association that could them spayed.” He certainly can’t afford to pay for it.

“That’s great,” you say.

This time, he’s the one who takes it upon himself to save the conversation, casually pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“Wanna see my cats?”

You light up at the question, and Minho feels the same sort of pride he does when Dori jumps into his lap to ask for pets — instead of ungratefully evading him like the little shit he is.

It doesn’t last long, the class before yours ends soon, and after that you get back to your ‘just getting in and out’ state. It’s almost physical when it happens. The smile disappears from your lips as you press them together, you straighten your back, but the most impressive change is the way your eyebrows tighten, a small line forming between them. Minho almost wants to reach out to wipe it from your forehead, but he doesn’t. Baby steps, that’s what you need, not him invading your personal space by that much.

He doesn’t ask himself, even for a second, why he’s willing to go through that much trouble to get closer to you. He just goes with the flow, as he always has, and that works fine for him.

He doesn’t sit next to you in class, thinks it would only stress you out more, make you too aware of his presence and of how you react to it. Instead, he takes a spot right in front of you, where he can’t see you but can easily check on you if he wants to — which he does. He refrains from doing it too much though, because on more than one occasion, he caught you looking at him, and you averted your eyes quickly, acting a little too invested in your note taking.

He still thinks it’s cute, but he doesn’t want to make you go in hiding, so he holds himself back.

Which comes back to bite him in the ass, rudely, when the teacher announces that he wants people to work in pair for an assignment.

He turns around to ask you to work with him, and sees, right in front of his eyes, as the guy sitting next to you asks you the same thing in a casual manner. You reply too fast, one of your knee-jerk answers, he can tell, but it’s still done before he even got the time to open his mouth. He also knows, instinctively, that you’ll feel embarrassed if he asks you now, so he doesn’t, turning to his own neighbor while holding back the strange urge to hiss at the guy.

…maybe he spends too much time with cats, actually.

Minho’s fine with the situation. He is. He still gets to be around you some mornings, and you now look him in the eye when you place your order at the coffee shop. You also don’t recoil as much as you used to when he leans over the counter, ostensibly to flirt with you — though he’s like, 98% sure you haven’t realized that’s what he’s doing. He’s making progress in getting you to feel more comfortable around him.

Sure, he missed an opportunity to spend more time around you in a relaxed setting, but is he upset about it? Does he get annoyed when he hears you talk with the guy behind him? Does hearing you chuckle at the guy’s stupid jokes, probably just to be polite, ‘cause he’s not that funny, make him want to claw the dude’s eyes out?

Well. Yes.

He’s been moody about it for days, to the point that Jisung pouted at him, asking him “what was wrong with him these days”, and Changbin looked him dead in the eyes to ask him if he needed help to get a girl, because he clearly needed to get laid.

A conversation he got out of by replying “do you want to die”, which is a card he’s maybe been playing a little too much these days.

He’s been in a good mood today, though. He’d seen you in the morning, and you’d helped him try to make a small shelter for the cats, because it had been announced that there would be heavy rain over the whole week-end. It had been a fun time, and maybe he’d used the opportunity to get closer to you than usual, enjoying how flustered it made you. Just brushing against you as he grabbed some planks you’d sneaked out of the building, totally accidentally touching your hand when you handed him something, that kind of things.

He had somewhat ruined the effect by accidentally dropping a plank on his foot, but that had made you laugh, so, it was— No, it still wasn’t worth it, he didn’t enjoy pain, but it made him slightly less annoyed about it.

So, as he waited for you in the coffee shop, as the skies outside darkened and fewer people than usual showed up, he wasn’t in as bad a mood as he’d been lately.

It started to rain at around half past five. He would have loved to run to get you with an umbrella, but he, unfortunately, needed his job. He did get a towel ready to hand to you, in case you didn’t have anything to protect yourself from the rain.

And then you came in.

Under an umbrella.

Which was in the hands of the one guy that was your partner in that one class.

Violent thoughts of murder flash before Minho’s eyes.

“Hey,” you say as you walk to the counter, giving him a bright smile, “this is Jooyeon, he’s in—”

“Class with us,” Minho completes with a smile that’s very much fake, “yes, I recognize him.”

Actually, technically, Jooyeon hasn’t done anything wrong, but it doesn’t help that he’s been looking at you and following you around like a damn puppy. What annoys Minho the most is probably the fact that you seem a lot chiller around him, a lot more natural than you are whenever Minho’s around. That’s— upsetting. He wants to see these sides of you, too, and not just from afar.

One vanilla latte and an americano later, you and Jooyeon sit by the window, in your usual spot, and Minho can’t stop himself from glaring. Jisung, or anyone, really, would call him out on it in a matter of seconds, because he’s not being subtle about it, but there’s no one around right now. The room, which is rarely full, is emptier than usual because most people rushed to get home to try to avoid the downpour.

That means that there is nothing to distract him from the intrusive thoughts that are trying to convince him to just throw something at Jooyeon. Anything would do.

When it starts becoming a little too tempting, and considering that he doubts anyone would brave the rain that’s falling at the moment, as thick as a curtain separating the coffee shop from the outside world, he decides to grab his computer and try to get some work done.

Of course, because some divinity out there must have decided to target him today, he’s just getting started and finding his rhythm when the lights flicker above him. He glances up. In the distance, the thunder rumbles.

There’s a flash outside.

And everything goes dark.

Fuck. His. Life.

With a sigh, he pulls out his phone to turn on his flashlight. At least, in this day and age, most people in the shop have the same idea, and soon enough he can see what’s happening.

“It’s probably just a power cut because of the storm,” he announces loudly, because it’s his responsibility to reassure the clients — if that had been something they’d tested for when he was interviewed, he would never have gotten the job. “Lights might come back on soon.” Or not, how would he know. “No reason to panic.”

He scans the faces of students, though he’s not sure what he’s looking for. Some people look worried, others, no doubt those who know that this happens semi-regularly on campus when there’s a storm, because why would your tuition pay to ensure that you have reliable electricity in here, just seem prepared to wait it out. Someone’s already gone back to tapping on their keyboard, though the sound of it is swallowed by that of the rain.

But then, he does a double-take, just to check on an impression that he had, and that confirms what he thought.

You’re not in the room. Most likely explanation is that you’re in the bathroom, but he has to imagine that it’s a pretty freaky experience, when all the lights turn off without warning and you’re all alone.

So, without thinking much about it, he makes his way in that direction. He’s hesitating in front of the door when it pushes open, and he’s suddenly blinded by cellphone light.

“Sorry!” he hears you apologize before he can make out your face. “I, uh, is the power out?”

“It looks like it,” he answers, and then his tone softens. “Are you okay?”

There’s a few seconds of silence, and he can’t quite discern your expression, because you’ve both lowered your lights. He resists the urge to reach for you, to inspect you to see for himself that everything is fine.

“I’m fine,” you answer. “I just—”

Then there’s the crack of thunder, and you jump, gasping, before closing your eyes in obvious annoyance.

“Fuck,” you say, and he wonders if it’s the first time that he’s ever heard you swear. And if it’s weird that he’s kinda into it.

“You scared of storms?” he asks, trying his best to contain the amusement in his voice.

“No,” you protest, a little defensively. “I don’t like being surprised— Fuck!”

Minho knows he shouldn’t laugh, that making fun of you could ruin the trust he’s been trying to build this past month, but at your annoyance for letting yourself be taken by surprise, and considering your obvious lack of fear, he can’t help it. It comes out higher than his usual pitch, a little airy. You roll your eyes at it, but you don’t seem to miss the humor in the situation, because a smile forms on your lips as well.

At that point, because he isn’t one to let an opportunity slip, he reaches out to take your hand in his. Your palm is soft, if somewhat calloused on the spot under your fingers, and after the first moment of surprise, you squeeze his hand in response.

“It’s okay,” he says. “It should be over soon.” Then a pause. “Or maybe we’ll be stuck here until we have to decide who we’re going to eat.”

You laugh at that, brief and light, and as cliché as it is, Minho thinks that is quickly becoming one of his favorite sounds in the world. Especially when he’s the one making you laugh, and not that jackass Joo— Ah, the kid hasn’t technically done anything, and it feels silly to blame him when you’re here with your hand in his.

So he’ll let it go. For now.

As much as he would like to stay here with you, in the dark, away from everyone else, Minho unfortunately has stuff he needs to take care of right now.

“Wanna go back with the others? I think I have to keep an eye on them.”

“Sure,” you say. You don’t attempt to take your hand from his, and so he pulls you along with him. He’s not going to let go if you won’t.

Things in the café are still quiet, and people don’t pay a lot of attention when the two of you come back, except for Jooyeon, who gets up from his seat.

“That must have taken you by surprise,” he says with empathy. “Everything okay?”

“All good,” you reply warmly, and there’s a pinch in Minho’s chest again. “I think we’ll have to postpone the session though. I’ll let you know when I’m free, if that’s okay with you?”

Ugh. Minho tunes Jooyeon’s response out, only waiting for an opportunity to whisk you away. He probably shouldn’t feel this strongly about it, is aware that you’re entirely within your own rights if you want to pick Jooyeon over him, but from his perspective, that doesn’t mean he has to let it be an easy decision to make. He’s not the type to lie down and just watch as that happens.

So the second Jooyeon’s eyes flick back to his computer, Minho’s taking you towards the counter with him. He checks the register once he’s there — which he definitely shouldn’t have let unattended without verifying that it couldn’t be accessed without electricity, oops, his bad — and after having confirmed that everything’s fine, his eyes go back to you.

The spike in his heart rate when he finds you already staring at him surprises him a little. He supposes that he can’t be that jealous without also having that sort of reaction to you. It’s not… unpleasant, actually, though the strength of it surprises him. It’s not the kind of emotion he usually welcomes, he’s used to them feeling less sharp, duller. But he doesn’t reject that one.

Gently, he rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, enjoying the feeling of your skin against his.

“Is there an issue between him and Jooyeon?” you ask, voice soft.

Ah. For someone who’s so completely oblivious about his interest in you, you were sure quick to notice that.

“You could say that,” he replies, and you frown.

“I didn’t know that,” you say, words coming out slow, like you’re figuring out what to say as you go, instead of defaulting to your usual pre-built answers. “Can I ask why?”

Minho raises an eyebrow. Then, wordlessly, he shifts himself so that you’re against the counter, with him standing in front of you. It’s interesting, because he’s almost exactly in the spot where he is every day, and every time he steals glances at you to make his day marginally better. He puts his hands on either side of you, hears you take a sharp breath.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

His voice comes out soft and muted, and as he asks, he feels something squeeze at his heart. Maybe because he’s not sure of what you'll answer. Maybe because he could have misread you, thought that you were oblivious when the truth was that you weren't interested. He could be keeping you away from your one true love, Jooyeon, who you’re going to go on to marry and have three k—

“Yes,” you squeak.

Ok, never mind.

Technically you’re in public, but it’s not like anyone’s looking your way, or like they'd see something other than silhouettes when he leans towards you.

It feels so natural when he kisses you. You lift your arms to wrap them around his neck, his hands find their place on your hips. Much to his surprise, you’re the one who presses yourself into him, lips moving softly against his, and it sends a jolt of electricity through his body. Suddenly there’s urgency running through his veins, desire, and his fingers dig harder into you. He kisses you with more intensity, like he’s trying to get rid of any space left between the two of you, and the soft sigh you let out only spurs him on further.

He’s seconds — fractions of seconds — away from doing something stupid when laughter and claps fill the room.

He parts from you, feeling his ears and cheeks turning red already, and discovers that the lights treacherously turned back on, and everyone is looking at the two of you. Protectiveness rushes through him, and he’s about to say something snappy, thinking that you’d be uncomfortable with it, when he realizes that you’re doubled over in laughter. Yes, you look a little embarrassed, but mostly, you seem fine with it.

Which is good, because otherwise he thinks he might have lost the shop a number of customers.

Everyone looks amused and happy for the two of you. Even Jooyeon’s grinning, though the look he gives Minho says, essentially, “Oh that was your problem”. It doesn’t capture people’s attention very long, but there’s something very sweet and human about the moment and how happy it seems to make everyone. Some regulars even exchange glances that seem to mean ‘I told you so’. Ha, he didn’t think he’d ever become campus gossip.

Once there are fewer eyes on the two of you, Minho leans towards you.

“I’ll take you on a date anywhere, as long as it’s not to get coffee.”

Your face lights up.

“I’d love that.”

Working at a coffee shop is not something that Minho finds very fun. Someone who enjoys human interactions more than him might, but it just feels very repetitive to him. Doing the same movements, asking the same questions, having to deal with the same issues from asshole customers who are different but also fundamentally the same person. The ding of cash register, the one of no contact credit cards, the buzzing of the coffee machine. It’s repetitive, but in a way that fills and numbs the mind.

There’s just one sound that he minds a little less now, and it’s the one the door makes when it opens.

Because, every now and again, it means that you’ve just come in.

“Hey,” you say as you reach the counter. You’re smiling so bright, and he loves it because he knows that it’s another one of those things that you can’t help. You’re smiling because he makes you happy, and isn’t that the best thing in the world?

“Dating the barista doesn’t entitle you to free coffee,” he says as he slides your vanilla latte over to you, though he has used his employee discount on everything you’ve ordered lately and he would very much give it to you for free if you didn’t insist on paying for your own stuff.

“We’re still on for tonight?” you ask, taking the coffee from the table.

“You think I’d let you get out of it?” he replies, and you laugh, before taking off to go to your usual table.

After that, he keeps going, keeps doing the same movements, asking the same questions, hearing the same noises. But sometimes, he glances in your direction and finds you focused on your computer, biting your lower lip as you’re deep in thought, or looking at him with a smile, and it makes it all more bearable.

Because you give him something to look forward to.

Taglist: @lethallyprotected @jisuperboard

#stray kids #lee know #lee know x reader #minho x reader #stray kids imagine #skz #lee know imagine #skz imagine #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #lee know fanfic #lee minho x reader #lee know fluff #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #candywrites

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luxaofhesperides · 6 months

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Surprise husbands + "How are you real?" ; requested by @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff!

They may not have planned to get married, or even wanted it all too much at the beginning, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t going to treat each other right. It was rough going, with both of them coming out of relationships and having secret identities, but time had softened the hurt feelings and allowed them to actually get to know each other.

And Danny, Duke has discovered, is a really good husband.

Neither of them ever saw themselves as married at 20, but sometimes life throws horrible curses at you and the embodiment of balance and life and death swoops in to save your life. Via marriage.

His life is weird, okay? Duke has made his peace with it.

The thing is, if they had met naturally and started off as friends, Duke could see himself falling for Danny and asking him to marry him in a far off future. Instead, they’re doing everything backwards: married, then going on dates to know each other, and finally feeling close enough to be friends.

It helps that Danny does his best to communicate and that helps Duke find the words he needs as well.

He’s sweet, too, so kind and doting and affectionate. Like a really lovable cat, honestly. Duke’s never been cuddled so much in his life and he’s loving every minute of it.

He… might be falling in love with his husband. What a revelation.

“Duke?”

He blinks, looking up from his half-empty plate, pulled out of his thoughts suddenly. Tim and Dick stare at him, concerned, and he realizes he’s missed the entire conversation because he was so preoccupied thinking about Danny. In his defense, it was their one year anniversary the night before and Danny had kissed him for the first time after a date night spent playing video games and talking shit about their respective rogues.

Tim snaps a finger in front of his face, and Duke startles. He got distracted by his Danny Thoughts again.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“You okay? You’ve been out of it all day,” Dick says, clearly concerned.

“Oh, uh, yeah, it’s all good. Just… adjusting.”

“To what? Did something happen?”

Duke shrugs, scooping up another forkful of pasta to shove in his mouth. “Yeah, I… this is going to sound kind of stupid, but I think I’m in love with my husband.”

Tim, taking an ill-timed drink, chokes and spits out his Zesti. Dick springs back, trying to get out of the spray zone but doesn’t move far, shocked still by Duke’s words.

“Oh, yeah,” Duke realizes, “I didn’t tell you guys, did I?”

“You’re married?!” Tim shrieks as Dick clutches at his chest, eyes wide.

“You didn’t tell me?” Dick asks, offended.

“Seriously? That’s what you focus on?”

Duke smiles as they begin to bicker. They do it constantly, but this time it’s halfhearted, as if they’re just going through the motions of something familiar to distract themselves from the bomb he’s dropped on them.

In all fairness, Duke did forget that he didn’t tell them that he’s married to Danny. He’s also only mentioned Danny once or twice and heavily implied that Danny was just a classmate at GCU. And then forgot that he didn’t tell them, assuming that they’d figure it out eventually being Batman trained detectives, after all.

Well.

Oops.

Clearly that is not the case. Duke hurries to finish his pasta before Tim and Dick finish their joint freak out and get their senses back together enough to interrogate him. He can’t escape it, but he refuses to have this discussion with an empty stomach.

He just barely manages to scrape the last mouthful off the plate when his fork is being yanked out of his hands. Tim and Dick close in on him, standing to either side of him, trapping him in place, and look at him with knife-sharp smiles.

Here we go, Duke thinks tiredly, and resigns himself to clearing up this misunderstanding.

Somehow, he manages to explain the situation (I got cursed, he saved my life, we ended up married because magic is bullshit, he treats me so well) and Tim and Dick both agree to not hunt down Danny to show him the wrath of older brothers on one condition: Danny has to join them for a family dinner.

“Don’t worry, we’ll catch everyone up on your… situation,” Dick says, pulling on his jacket to head out. Tim is already on his phone, no doubt telling someone already.

“Great,” Duke says, unenthused. “You’ll also be answering all the questions because I’m not in the mood. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to figure out a day that works for all of us, and then I’m going to kick my husband’s ass in Mario Cart.”

He walks out the door, grinning as he hears them scramble after him, then twists the ring on his finger (not a wedding ring, but a magic portal making gift) and steps into the portal. It closes quietly behind him, leaving him in Danny’s lair, a comfortable, spacious house with high ceilings and little bits of his personality scattered about. There are soft rugs with geometric patterns on them, star maps on the wall, stained glass windows that throw colors across the floor, and a giant couch and pillow pit in the living room.

Danny’s asleep in it, curled up and looking completely at peace. Duke toes off his shoes and carefully makes his way over, footsteps silent so he doesn’t wake him up, all plans of Mario Cart fading away instantly.

Danny doesn’t get much sleep, with the stress of school and an internship and ghost fights to worry about. It’s why his lair is so quiet and comfortable; it’s what he needs, and he doesn’t let anyone else in without invitation, rare as it is.

Duke is allowed to waltz right in thanks to the ring Danny gave him. It never stops making him feel overwhelmed by how much trust Danny puts in him to allow him unlimited access to what is his only true sanctuary, letting his lair be a place of safety and respite for Duke as well.

He crawls into the pillow pit, There’s no way to do this without waking Danny up since he can’t fly, so he isn’t surprised to see Danny blink his eyes open, still looking soft and content. He smiles when he sees Duke, reaching a hand out to him that Duke gladly takes, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss his palm.

Sitting up, Danny tilts his head up in a silent request. Duke happily obliges, still reeling over the fact that he’s allowed to do this! He can kiss his husband whenever he wants!

Yeah, he’s going to be riding that high for a while.

“Hey,” Danny murmurs, sleepy and quietly pleased to see him.

“Hi honey,” Duke returns fondly, “Have a nice nap?”

Danny nods, leaning into Duke and closing his eyes again. “Mhm. How long are you staying? I wanna cuddle.”

“I got nothing going on today. I’m all yours, baby.”

“C’mon,” Danny tries to tug him down. Duke goes slowly, covering Danny’s body with his own, but holds himself with one hand before he blankets his husband completely.

“Wait. There’s something we need to talk about.”

Immediately, the sleepy haze is fading from Danny’s eyes, leaving him alert. “What’s up? Is something wrong?”

“Not really? You know how we agreed to keep our marriage a secret until we weren’t in danger anymore and all those cultists and sorcerers were taken care of?”

“...Yes?”

“Well.” Duke sucks in a breath and offers a bashful smile. “Guess who forgot to tell people we were married after that whole mess was dealt with?”

The nervousness clears from Danny’s gaze as he stares up at Duke with incredulous amusement. “No. No way.”

“Yeah. Kinda dropped a bomb on them and they started freaking out over me being married. Anyways, they want you to come to dinner?”

“When?”

Duke leans back, sitting on his heels. “Let me check.” He pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to the group chat asking for a day they could have a family meal to meet his husband.

His phone is bombarded with texts and calls immediately until Barbara, bless her entire soul, forcibly mutes all of them and puts in a poll with a few dates, setting the poll to close in 24 hours.

“Okay, well, they’re deciding now, but probably soon.”

Danny nods. “Alright. I know these aren’t normal circumstances at all, but I’m so excited to meet the Bats.”

“You do not mean that after hearing all my stories about them.”

“No, I do!” Danny laughs, surging up to wrap his arms around Duke and pull him back down to lay among the giant pillows with him. “They sound nice!”

“The Bats sound nice?!” Duke repeats in horror. “Did you hit your head?”

“They do sound nice! You talk about them so fondly, and yeah they have problems and are dysfunctional, but they’re heroes. Of course they have problems. Even with all their baggage, they’re kind. And you clearly love them, so I do too.”

It’s hard to resist the urge to hug Danny tight enough to make him squeak while peppering his face with kisses, so Duke doesn’t. He just goes and does it, because he’s allowed to shower his husband (!) with affection (!!!) as much as he pleases.

“How are you real?” he says against the corner of Danny’s lips. “How are you so perfect! To me specifically! Honey, if we weren’t already married, I’d be going down on one knee right now.”

“I mean, you still can. We never got a proper wedding either. Think if we offer them a chance to help plan our wedding, they’ll forgive us for secretly being married for so long?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Duke says. He’s already giddy, just imagining what their wedding will look like, what song they’ll play for their first dance, where they’ll have the ceremony… He should create a Pinterest account to start putting ideas together.

Later, though. He wants to woo Danny properly and take him on so many dates.

Dates which include dinner with the Waynes and Wayne-adjacents, apparently.

“You sure you’re okay with meeting them over dinner?” he asks, just to be sure. He knows how intense they can be, even when pretending to be normal civilians. It took him years to get used to them, himself, and he doesn’t want to push Danny into doing something he’s not ready to do.

Danny cups Duke’s face in his hands and gives him a quick, reassuring kiss. “I’m sure. If nothing else, it’ll be fun to see how long it takes for them to realize I’m not fully human.”

“I really am glad it’s you.”

“Yeah, me too. I’d choose you all over again if given the choice.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Duke laughs, wrapping an arm around Danny’s waist.

“Can we nap now? Now that you’re here and holding me, it’s taking everything I’ve got to stay awake.”

“Yeah, we can nap now.” Duke settles into the pillows, Danny cradled in his arms and closes his eyes to bask in the quiet easiness of it all.

He really couldn’t ask for a better husband, unexpected as he was. The others will see that too, once they meet him. It’s impossible to not love Danny once you meet him; Duke knows this all too well.

He loves his husband.

And his husband loves him back.

Duke is fully prepared to keep making that choice for the rest of his life.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #dp x dc fanfic #prompt fill #my writing #it was such a struggle to keep this one short but i WILL do it. it will stay below 3k words. i promised myself this #wasnt too sure what the surprise husbands trope was so i winged it lol. i hope you enjoy reading this anyways!!#its all about choosing love and choosing each other and taking care of each other in a bad situation #turning it into something good and soft and kind bc neither of u want to hurt each other and its nice to have someone always by ur side #its abt choosing each other every day!!#these two are out here speed running love while doing it backwards. icons.#thanks for the prompt!!

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unfinishedslurs · 1 year

Text

matchmaking gone wrong (steddie)

“So,” Murray says, smarmy little smirk in place. Steve kind of hates him. “How long have you two been dancing around each other?”

“What?”

“Oh, come on, now,” he says. “Everyone can see it. Or, well, maybe they can’t, but I can. Small town boys, both fighting against the odds. Alternate dimensions bring people together in the strangest ways, don’t they?”

“Hey, now,” Steve objects, shooting a panicked glance next to him. Eddie hasn’t moved a muscle since Murray opened his big mouth. His pose reminds Steve of a frightened rabbit, frozen in the eye of a snake.

“Hey, now,” Murray mimics. “Real eloquent, Steve.” He says Steve like he’s saying something else. If he’s not careful, Steve is going to punch his fucking teeth in.“I gotta say, when I met you, you managed to take me by surprise. I really thought you were gonna be different. Small town rich boy, right? Big house, no parents, thought I knew the type. But you’ve managed to turn it on its head, haven’t you? Still, you’re lonely. Must be nice, having all those kids in your house. Less empty with them around. And Eddie here, too. I bet it’s real nice with him around.”

“Dude,” Steve says, prickling. He doesn’t know what eloquent means, or what that has to do with anything, but he really does not like what this guy is putting down. What business does this washed up mess of a conspiracy theorist have digging into Steve’s personal life? He chances another look at Eddie, who has unfrozen in favor of straightening up and glaring at Murray.

“What the fuck do you know?” he spits, vicious in the way he only ever is when he’s defending someone. Steve is touched, really.

“I know a lot,” Murray says, smile growing ever wider. “Like that you sleep in his bed, even though there’s…what, three perfectly good guest rooms here?”

“Two,” Steve corrects automatically. “The other one is Max’s.” Unofficially, of course, but she sleeps here enough that everyone else knows she’s claimed it. Technically it’s one and a half, given that Dustin is slowly taking over the one next to hers, but Ms. Henderson is actually responsible so he only stays the night occasionally. Robin just sleeps in Steve’s bed with them.

He realizes his mistake when Murray’s smile grows even wider. “Two!” He exclaims. “Two guest bedrooms, and yet you sleep in his bed, wake up next to him, end up with his pillow lines on your face. I bet it’s nice, huh? To have him soothe your nightmares, to fall asleep knowing he’s there. We like Steve, indeed. How could a man possibly resist? Tell me, Eddie, is that handkerchief in your pocket just for show? I’d have thought masochism was more your style.”

“Hey!” Steve barks. Eddie jumps next to him, and Steve puts his hand over his unthinkingly. Murray’s eyes track the movement, but Steve speaks before he can open his mouth.

“Not cool, man,” he says firmly. Eddie’s hand is trembling under his, and Steve thinks that Murray is lucky that he cares more about comforting Eddie than he does about punching the smug look off his fucking face.

“What’s not cool?” Murray asks. “Telling you two to get your shit together, for the betterment of us all?”

“You barely fucking know us,” Steve snaps. “There’s no ‘betterment of us all,’ Jesus. You can’t just…you can’t…” he lowers his voice, like he can protect Eddie from hearing it if he tries hard enough. “You can’t just out people, man. You should fucking know better.”

Eddie’s frozen again. Steve doesn’t look at him, instead staring Murray down like a challenge. The man does lose steam with that, wilting like a weed in the heat. “Ah,” he says. “I…ah, hell, I thought you knew.”

“What I know doesn’t mean shit if he’s not the one who told me,” Steve says. Eddie makes a sound, slowly sliding his hand out from under Steve’s. Steve lets him, resisting the urge to grab it back. He knows Eddie won’t run away from him, even if he wants to. “And what if you’d been wrong about me being cool, huh? Seriously man, aren’t you supposed to be smart or something? Act like it.”

Murray opens his mouth again, but Eddie interjects. “As fascinating and eye opening as this has been,” he says, clapping his shaking hands together, “I need to be gone, like, before this conversation ever happened. I appreciate your attempt to get me into golden boy’s pants over here, really, but, uh, yeah. I think the whole being straight thing kind of puts a damper on that, don’t you?”

“You’re straight?” Steve blurts out, hurt and embarrassed all at once. Well, shit, there goes whatever Steve thought they were hurtling towards. And after Steve just confessed he thought Eddie was gay. Is that discrimination? He’s going to kill Robin, dammit, she’s the one who pointed out Eddie’s hanky in the first place.

“What?” Eddie asks. “No, you are.”

“I am?”

“Yes!”

“Uh,” Steve says, extremely confused. Is Eddie coming out as straight for him? He’s pretty sure this is supposed to go, like, the opposite way. “Since when?”

“Since—“ Eddie’s mouth drops open. “I thought since always, Harrington, what the fuck?”

“Me what the fuck?” Steve sputters. “You what the fuck! You thought I was straight?”

“Of course I did!” Eddie throws his hands up. “You’re, like, the epitome of straight jock!”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve says. “Because my painted nails and affinity for sucking cock scream heterosexual man.”

Affinity might be a stretch given that he’s only ever sucked one dick in his entire life, but hey, a little embellishment never hurts. He wasn’t awful at it. The painted nails weren’t actually his choice, either, thanks to El’s killer puppy eyes, but still. He’s been blatantly flirting with Eddie for months now. Would it kill him to notice?

Eddie doesn’t seem to have a response for this, mouth opening and closing without sound.

“Well,” Murray says at last. Steve and Eddie both jump, having completely forgotten about him. “I guess you needed my help after all.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Steve says, rounding on him. “I don’t need your help for jack-fucking-shit, alright? I am a grown-ass man. I am not repressed, I am not in denial, and I am not thanking you for this. You messed up my plan!”

“Your plan?” Eddie asks.

“Your plan,” Murray repeats, amused.

“Yes, my plan,” he hisses. “You’re not smarter than everyone else just because you don’t like the government, asshole. None of us like the fucking government, we’re just not about to go off the rails and become total shut-ins about it. We fucking get it, you’re lonely and have no friends. We don’t need you to tell us our own business for us, okay? You want to talk about getting help? Go to a fucking AA meeting and leave us alone.”

The skin around Murray’s eyes tightens. Steve might feel bad, if it weren’t for the fact that he’d fucking outed Eddie. Mistake or not, it doesn’t matter that Steve already knew if Eddie wasn’t ready to fucking tell him.

Eddie’s hand on his arm stops him from saying much worse.

He doesn’t turn around, just stares Murray down like a warning. Murray looks back at him, seemingly unimpressed, but Steve can see shame in the line of his shoulders. There’s apology in his eyes when he breaks Steve’s gaze to glance at Eddie.

He’s not a bad guy, Steve knows. Joyce tells them fondly about how he helped her and Hopper get their shit together. How they’d both be Russian chow ten times over if it wasn’t for him. Nancy, too, has some good things to say about the guy. He was the one who helped her get word out about Barb’s death. He helped her get with Jonathan too, even if that didn’t exactly work out.

And it’s not like he blames Murray for Nancy cheating on him. She’s her own person, and makes her own decisions, even if they’re shitty, hurtful ones that he’s still not sure he’ll ever fully get over.

Jonathan said it best, once. He’s weird, and nosy, and annoying, and I don’t really like him. But I think he really just wants to help, in any way he can. Plus he’s a really good cook.

Steve breaks.

“Just get out of my house, man,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Joyce will be happy to host you for the night, they’ve got a spare room there. Tell her my house was too ‘rich kid’ for you, or something. But you’re not staying here anymore.”

Murray nods, accepting this at face value. He gets up from the table, pausing to snag the vodka. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry,” he offers, and disappears before either of them can reply.

“So,” Eddie says, after a considerable length of silence. His voice shakes slightly. “That was, uh, enlightening.”

He huffs a tired laugh. “That’s one word for it,” he says, finally turning to look Eddie in the eye. He’s shifty, eyes flitting around the room, hands playing out guitar chords against the counter. Steve takes one in hand.

Eddie stills, finally looking at his face. Steve won’t force eye contact, but he needs to know Eddie’s focusing on him and not whatever shitty thoughts are flying across his mind.

“I’m sorry,” he offers quietly. “I didn’t know he’d try that shit with us, when I told Hopper he could stay here.”

Eddie resumes his finger chords. “It’s not your fault he’s an asshole.”

“I know,” he says. “Still, that wasn’t how I wanted this to go.”

“Go? ‘Go’ what? What’s going?”

Steve shuts his eyes. “Us. I wasn’t going to say anything yet. Not until after you told me you were…”

“Oh,” Eddie says quietly. “Right.”

“Yeah.”

“I can get out of your hair, man, if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“What?” Steve‘s eyes fly open. “No! I’m not kicking you out, what the fuck?”

“You’re not?”

“Literally what part of that conversation made you think that’s where this was headed?” He demands.

“I dunno, man,” Eddie confesses. “Good things don’t really happen to people like me.”

“And I’m a good thing?” Steve tries to joke, raising an eyebrow.

Eddie doesn’t take the bait, just briefly meets Steve’s eyes and lowers his voice. “Steve, you’re, uh. You’re kind of one of the best things to ever happen to me.”

“Oh,” falls weakly from his lips.

“Shit, was that too much? That was totally too much, sorry, I’m not good at this. You can totally kick me out now, fuck, that’s so embarrassing—“

Steve kisses him.

“Honestly, I’m not that worried about it,” Eddie says, laying with his feet on Steve’s pillow and head hanging off the bed.

“Really?”

“I mean, like, it was a dick thing to do, but what’s he gonna do? Tell the whole town? They all know about me anyway.”

Steve kind of shrugs at this, because as much as he wishes it weren’t true he’s right. He’s walked past fag sharpied on Eddie’s locker enough times to know that unlike Steve, he never really had the luxury of hiding it.

“People always just knew,” he tells Steve. “Don’t know how, don't know why. I’m not sure I‘ve ever actually come out to anyone except Wayne, and that was more of a bitter, self-loathing explosion than anything. It backfired, obviously. Instead of kicking me out, he told me he loved me and I cried so hard I threw up. Totally embarrassing. But even with Wayne…I didn’t have to. It’s like it was tattooed on my forehead, or something. Too soft, too close with other boys, too obvious. So I leaned into it. Learned to fight, ‘cause getting beat up might end in something worse. Let my freak flag fly, let ‘em focus on the DND and the devil worshiping because somehow that was better than being queer.”

Steve, who’d also known about Eddie long before Eddie had told him, bites his tongue.

“I think he’s safe,” Eddie finishes with a nod. “He really did seem like he wouldn’t have said anything, if he’d known I hadn’t told you. Which is hilarious to me, by the way, because I’d just kind of assumed I didn’t have to so you might have just waited forever. Plus I think he and Hopper have, like, a vibe.”

Steve chokes. “A vibe?”

“They’re not fucking,” he clarifies, “but they have fucked, yanno?”

“You’re fucking with me, right?”

“Nah, man. I bet that’s why Hopper asked us to host him, instead of offering up his spare room immediately. Your ex and your new squeeze living together?” He whistles lowly. “Awkward.” “I don’t want to know this,” Steve declares, flipping face first into his pillow. He pushes Eddie’s stinky feet away from his face, ignoring his squawk. “Why would you give me information? Now I have to look Hopper in the eye knowing that his taste in men is Murray.”

#stranger things fanfic #murray bauman #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #implied past murray/hopper because i think it's funny #accidental outing #i like murray matchmaking steddie as much as the rest of them #but occasionally i wonder how it would fit in the time period as two queers instead of 'straight' couples #and my immediate thought was that it would Not Go Well #murray IS obnoxious and i love him for it #matchmaking gone wrong au

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solarmorrigan · 6 months

Note

Hi! Could you possibly do 'You don't have to stay.' With Steddie from the angst writing prompt, please? Thank you in advance 😊

Hi! My apologies again for taking two weeks to get to this, but thank you for sending it! This one was fun to write :D

[No warnings; happier ending this time, I promise]

Angsty-ish Prompt List

Eddie feels like an idiot.

He just – he got so wrapped up in everything. In the way Steve has been keeping him company every evening, in the way they have dinner together and play cards together and watch movies together and fucking fall asleep together (Eddie and Wayne’s new place is bigger than their old one, but it’s not like the government sprung for a house with a goddamn guest room or anything). He just forgot that Steve isn’t really meant to be part of his life.

No, Eddie just has Steve on loan.

He is abruptly reminded of this fact one afternoon when he hits Family Video with the intent to pester Steve (and maybe even rent a movie) and instead stumbles right into the tail end of a conversation.

Maryellen Someone-or-Other from the year below Eddie (he’s never really seen the point in remembering names unless they’re a friend or a foe; he figures his brainspace has better uses than the names of people who don’t give a shit about him one way or the other) is leaning over the counter, making eyes at Steve. She’s practically batting her eyelashes and resting her weight in a way that puts the low-scooped neckline of her shirt prominently on display.

“Are you sure?” Maryellen is asking, bottom lip pouting out in a way that is, in Eddie’s opinion, far too obvious.

“Afraid so,” Steve replies with one of his softer smiles, like he might actually be sorry. “I already have plans tonight.”

And – plans? What plans? Eddie thought Steve would be coming over to his house tonight, like pretty much every night.

But then Steve’s eyes flick up from Maryellen and catch Eddie standing stupidly in front of the doors, and his smile widens a little, becomes something happier, sillier, and – oh. Eddie’s house is the plan. Right.

“Well,” Maryellen sighs, high and put-upon, pulling Steve’s attention back to her, “maybe next time.”

“Uh, yeah.” Steve nods. “Yeah, maybe.”

Maryellen glances Steve up and down one more time—and, seriously, obvious much?—before she straightens up and sashays past Eddie and out of the store. She doesn’t even seem to have a video with her. Had she come in just to ask Steve out?

And Steve had turned her down?

It’s not like Eddie is interested in what she’s selling, but he has eyes – Maryellen Whatserface isn’t the sort of date you just turn down. Not when she’s flirting and flashing her cleavage at you over the counter of your workplace. And she especially isn’t the type of date Steve Harrington turns down, certainly not to spend an evening sitting around in Eddie’s room doing a whole lot of nothing.

Of course, that’s not how Eddie sees it – not really. They’re not doing nothing if they’re talking, if they’re sharing stories or thoughts or even just dumb jokes. Not if they’re sitting quietly together because sometimes you can only be that type of quiet with someone who gets you. Not if Eddie is strumming random notes on his guitar and Steve is humming along, almost absently, like he doesn’t even notice he’s doing it.

It isn’t nothing to Eddie, but to Steve – well, now that Eddie thinks about it, Steve is probably just putting his life on hold so he can be a good friend to Eddie in the aftermath of all the Upside Down fuckery.

Which is very kind of him, obviously (which is apparently just the sort of person Steve actually is; sure, he complains a whole hell of a lot, but Eddie doubts if there’s a single damn thing Steve won’t do if he thinks he can help someone really in trouble), but Eddie doesn’t need him to do that. He doesn’t need any kind of pity friendship. He doesn’t need Steve to put all his shit on hold just to take care of him, only to end up resenting him because he can’t go anywhere or do anything because he’s too busy being the goddamn babysitter.

Eddie doesn’t need that.

“Hey.” Steve is the one leaning the counter now (and he doesn’t exactly have Maryellen’s assets, but damn if the position doesn’t make his shirt stretch appealingly over his chest, anyway) and making eyes at Eddie, except they’re sort of confused-and-concerned eyes, which makes sense, since Eddie still hasn’t moved out of the damn doorway. “You okay?”

“Just fine,” Eddie says, snapping back into motion. “I’m here to pick a movie for tonight.”

“Y’know, I work at the video store,” Steve says, arching one heavy brow. “I’m here right now, even. You could just let me pick something to bring home.”

Eddie almost twitches at the casual slip of the tongue – home. Like Steve doesn’t have other places to be, a better house to actually go home to.

“I could,” Eddie drawls, “but I have it on good authority—my own, in fact—that your taste in films is not to be trusted.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Just because you can’t appreciate Sly or a good underdog story–”

“Two hours of dudes punching each other, Steve.”

“That’s not all the movie was, and you know it!”

“Two hours!”

And just like that, they fall into their usual banter, but somewhere in the back of his mind, Eddie can’t quite let go of what he’s been reminded of.

It follows him back home (to his home) with the movie in his hand (a decidedly non-sports-related movie) and dogs his thoughts and winds him up, and by the time Steve has gotten off work and is leaving his shoes politely by the door, Eddie is – well, he’s a little on edge.

A bit twitchy.

Maybe more than a bit.

Maybe he might be watching Steve, looking for signs that he doesn’t want to be there, that he has better places to be, that Steve regrets turning down Maryellen (if that even was her name? Now that Eddie thinks about it, it might have been Marie. Hard to say).

Maybe he watches Steve carefully as they make dinner, and as they eat, and as Steve heckles his movie choice just for the hell of it, and maybe he jumps on it a little too hard when, as the evening gets later, Steve glances at the clock and sighs.

“You know, you don’t have to stay,” Eddie says, shooting for perfectly casual.

Steve, who had been partway through rubbing tiredly at his eyes (probably about time to get those contacts out; he always forgets, and Eddie is always reminding him), pauses and pulls his hand away from his face to look blearily at Eddie. “What?”

“Just, if you have other places to be, y’know?” Eddie shrugs. “You don’t have to stay.”

Steve blinks. “What other places would I be right now?”

Eddie shrugs. He’s very casual about this and not worked up at all, as evidenced by all the easy shrugging he’s doing. “Oh, I don’t know. With Maryellen, maybe? She seemed pretty interested in taking you out tonight.”

A confused sort of look is working its way onto Steve’s face, like he has no idea what the hell Eddie is talking about, like he hadn’t just turned down a date earlier today. “Do you mean Madeline?” Shit, right, that was it. “Why would I want to be with her? Dude, what the hell are you even talking about?”

“I don’t know, Steve!” Eddie snaps, tossing his arms up in hopes that it’ll get some of his nervous energy out. “I just know that you’ve been here babysitting me almost every night for weeks–”

“I’m not babysitting, what are you–”

“And I figure that maybe there’s other shit you’d rather be doing! Places to be, things to do, people to fuck, whatever.”

And– Oops.

Eddie hadn’t quite meant to let all that out. And now Steve looks offended.

“What the hell is your problem tonight?” Steve asks, sitting up from where he’d been slouching on Eddie’s bed. “Did I do something to make you think I don’t wanna be here, or what?”

“I – well – do you want to be here?” Eddie splutters. “You’re a popular guy, and you’re turning down dates to sit around in my room all night? Doesn’t check out, man!”

Unnervingly, Steve doesn’t immediately snap back. He just stares at Eddie for a long moment.

“So, what? You think I’d rather be at some high school party? Drunk off my ass? Making out with some girl who doesn’t know me or give a shit about me?” Steve finally asks, voice low and heavy. “What the hell have I done since you’ve actually gotten to know me that made you think I still want all that shit?”

Eddie opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He doesn’t exactly have a specific defense.

Steve scoffs. “Did you ever think that I just want to spend time with you? That I like being here, that I like you? But fine, whatever.” He slides off the bed and stands up. “You want me to fuck off so badly, I’ll go.”

And with that, he stalks out of Eddie’s room.

Eddie is so busy reeling with the “I like you” of it all that it isn’t until he hears Steve shuffling with his shoes by the door that he manages to snap into action.

“Steve!” he calls down the hall, running full tilt for the entryway, because he doesn’t know much, but he knows he needs to stop Steve before he leaves, before some kind of irreparable damage is done.

Steve doesn’t pause, reaching for the door and pulling it open, and what Eddie means to do is step past him, put a hand on the door, keep Steve there just a little longer so they can talk.

What actually happens is that Eddie’s momentum carries him flying right past Steve, into the door, yanking the knob from Steve’s hand and slamming the whole thing shut.

“Eddie, what the fuck!” Steve exclaims, (rightfully) startled.

“I don’t actually want you to fuck off, okay?” Eddie insists, because he is a god of eloquence when under unexpected pressure. “I want… I really want the opposite of that, actually.”

Steve shoots him a disbelieving look. “So you were being a dick because you want me to stay,” he says flatly.

“Nooot exactly,” Eddie draws the words out, reaching up and twisting his fingers in his hair while he tries to think. “I was being a dick because I want you to stay but I was afraid you wouldn’t want to.”

Steve continues to stare at him. “Eddie, that makes no goddamn sense.”

“I didn’t say it did! I think we know each other well enough for you to know by now that I am barely in charge of my brain, Steve!” Eddie huffs. “I just – I don’t get why you would want to hang around here when you probably have better options.”

“No, see, that’s the part that doesn’t make sense,” Steve says, his voice going a little softer. “You thinking I wouldn’t want to stay, or that there’s anywhere better for me to be. I don’t want to be anywhere else, or with anyone else. I just… want to be here with you.”

“You…” Eddie looks over at Steve, really looks, and catches the anxiety sitting in his expression, and the hopeful spark in his wide eyes, and realizes that he’s absolutely had the wrong end of the stick. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Steve says with a shrug that’s just about as casual as Eddie has been all night.

“Well then.” Eddie reaches up and slides the deadbolt back into place before giving the door a little pat; its services will no longer be required. Then, before he can think better of it, he reaches out and takes Steve’s hand, threading their fingers together and giving him a little tug back towards the hall. “Come on.”

“And where are you taking me, exactly?” Steve asks, amused and something a bit like relieved.

Eddie continues pulling him down the hall, heading for his room, and tosses a grin over his shoulder. “I am taking you exactly to where we both want to be.”

And if the way Steve crowds him over the threshold and into his bedroom is to be trusted, they are perfectly on the same page.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddiesteve #eddie is a disaster and we love him for it and so does steve it's fine #solar wrote #answers from solar #anonymous

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kikyo-bnha-imagines · 9 months

Text

"I like you, okay?!"

summary: katsuki struggles to confess to his crush.

tags: fluff, fem!reader

Katsuki is good at a lot of things, but when it comes to romance, he is a hopeless fool.

In his defense, it’s not his fault. He’s spent the vast majority of his life focusing on one goal and one goal only—honing his Quirk so that he can become the Number One Hero. And he always thought that his attention would never sway, free of any unnecessary distractions.

Until he met you.

At the start of the first year at U.A, Katsuki didn’t think much of you. Well, he didn’t think much of any of his classmates, for that matter, but slowly but surely, the days passed, and he found his gaze lingering on you for a lot longer than he would’ve liked to admit.

Katsuki tries to deny it at first. Something about you makes him feel... off. He's not sure why his chest gets uncomfortably tight when you speak to him, and it also doesn’t make any sense why his face heats up like never before. Maybe he’s sick, but if that were really the case, then he’s somehow been sick for the past few months.

It takes someone else’s meddling for Katsuki to finally put the pieces together.

“So, Bakugou, what’s up with you and [Name]?” Kaminari asks. “It feels like you treat her a bit differently than everyone else. Do you have a crush on her or something?”

Kaminari was half-joking, but when Katsuki’s cheeks flush a deep shade of crimson—enough to rival his piercing eyes—everyone around him gasps.

“Dude,” Kirishima chuckles. “No way. You actually like her, huh?”

“The hell I do!” Katsuki immediately snaps back, but his voice cracks, and based on the way everyone smirks at him, he can tell he must not be very convincing.

Kaminari grins. “Wow, I hit the nail right on the head! You’ve gotta confess, man! [Name]’s really popular, so if you wait around too long, someone else might beat you to it!”

“You idiots are out of your damn minds,” Katsuki grits out, and without wasting a beat, he shoves his hands in his pockets and stomps off.

They’re just being stupid like always. Seriously, him, having a crush on someone? The Bakugou Katsuki? As if he has the time or energy to waste on mushy shit like that. It’s so ridiculous he’s almost tempted to laugh.

But then he takes a moment to consider Kaminari’s words.

“If you wait around too long, someone else might beat you to it.”

Katsuki isn’t sure why, but he briefly imagines you being asked out by another person, someone who isn’t him. He imagines you laughing with them, hooking your arm around theirs, and last but certainly not least, leaning forward to meet them in a kiss.

The image evokes a visceral reaction from him, and in that moment, he swears his heart nearly stops beating.

And then comes the realization.

Oh, fuck.

He’s in deep shit.

As much as Katsuki would like to say that he’s made progress since realizing that he likes you, that unfortunately isn’t the case.

If anything, the self-awareness has just made things worse. Before, he could at least talk to you like a semi-normal person, but now, your interactions usually go something like this:

“Good morning, Katsuki,” you greet. “How’d you do on yesterday’s assignment? To be honest, I was kind of rushing to finish it on time. It felt like it was harder than usual.”

Katsuki parts his lips to respond, but the longer he stares at you, the faster his heart races.

He ends up walking away out of sheer embarrassment.

“Man,” Kirishima sighs. “That was painful to watch.”

“Shut up!” Katsuki hisses. “What the fuck do you want me to do?!”

“Just be normal. Be yourself.” Kirishima pauses for a few moments. “Actually... maybe that’s not the best advice.”

“Oh, piss off!"

It goes on like this for a while. Every time you engage him in casual, friendly conversation, Katsuki finds himself freezing up completely. It’s ironic, because he has the confidence to take on fearsome villains with ease, and yet this is what has him scared shitless.

Goddammit. Katsuki never realized that liking someone would be such a test of his strength.

Unfortunately, he’s too caught up in his own feelings that he doesn’t stop to consider how all of this looks from your perspective.

“Katsuki,” you approach him one day, and for some reason, you’re frowning. “Hey. Can you please be honest with me? Did I do something to upset you, or what? Because it feels like you’ve been ignoring me lately.”

He blinks. “What? No. If I had a problem with you, I’d tell you.”

“Well, that’s what I thought too. So then... why do you keep avoiding me? Does it just bore you having to listen to me talk?”

Hardly. Katsuki could probably listen to you talk for hours upon hours without getting bored. You have a pretty face, a pretty voice, and whenever you smile or laugh, it makes him want to do the same.

It suddenly dawns on him that this is probably the best chance he’ll get. It’ll be bad news if he lets this misunderstanding drag out any further. He doesn’t want you to think that you don’t like him, because that’s the furthest thing from the truth.

Come on. He can do this. He’s Bakugou Katsuki, for fuck’s sake. It’s time to stop acting like a coward and own up to how he feels.

“I,” Katsuki starts shakily, “I...”

You raise a brow. “You...?”

“I...”

“...?”

Holy shit, this is so much harder than he anticipated. He’ll take a punch to the face over a confession any day of the week.

But no, he can’t give up, goddammit! Again, he’s Bakugou Katsuki! Resident badass! The (self-proclaimed) future Number One Hero!

The words feel like bile rushing up his esophagus, and even though they burn like hell, he finally, finally manages to spit them out.

“I like you, okay?!”

He did it. He’s violently flushed in the face and keeps having to gasp to reclaim his breath, but at long last, the truth is out in the open.

And now for the part that he didn’t even stop to consider. Seeing how you'll react.

“Oh,” you blink in response. You’re visibly taken aback, and you clear your throat, stopping to ponder your next words. “Well, that’s—”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up! I don’t want to hear it!”

Katsuki books it the hell out of there before he can hear what you have to say. He supposes he’s unlocked a new fear: rejection. The way he handled this whole situation is lame, it’s childish as hell, and he knows it, but when it comes to this stuff, it looks like he’s much more of a coward than he first thought.

Meanwhile, you giggle softly as you watch him run off.

“What a dork. He didn’t even wait for me to say I like him back.”

#bnha imagines #my hero academia #bnha #mha #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x reader #boku no hero academia #boku no hero imagines #mha imagines #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #fluff #romance #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff

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notenoughncise · 3 months

Text

Why Don’t You Talk to Matty About it?

word count: 2.5K

f!reader x matty

tags: angst, happy ending

warnings: alcohol, mentions of smut but no actual smut

after pining after matty since they became friends 15 years ago, it all comes to a head for y/n on a drunken night out

——————————————————————————

You’re nearly two bottles of wine deep when she comes up to the table.

“Hiiiiii… I just wanted to say that I’m a massive fan of yours. I loooove the new album!”

She’s drunk as fuck; stumbling over her words, gripping his shoulder to keep herself steady. You feel the jealousy burning through your entire body. It’s a chore not to show it; to smile instead of scowl at her, to drink from your glass at a normal pace instead of throwing it down your throat.

He turns his head to look up at her, smiling so genuinely that you want to claw your eyes out. He’s drunk too, you can see it in the way he clumsily puts his hands over the one she has on his shoulder, eyes glazed over.

“Aw, thank you, Darlin’. We’re glad you like it.”

You feel sick. He’s looking at her so gently, like he might spook her if he doesn’t. She’s just a fan saying hello, you scream at yourself internally, stop being a fucking melt. And it almost works, you almost calm down, and then she giggles and plops herself down next to him. You breathe in sharply, tightening your grip on your glass.

George puts his hand on your thigh, and in leans in to whisper to you.

“Y/N, you need to chill out.”

George is right. You know he is. He’s always fucking right. You need to get a grip. 32 years old and so hung up on your teenage crush that you’re seriously considering squaring up to a teenager. And for what? A man who maybe looks your way twice on a good day? That’s not true. You aren’t being fair. Sometimes you think you see it in his eyes, but it disappears so fast. You can’t ever tell if it was really there. And he smiles, he smiles so softly just for you; so softly it makes you weak in the knees, makes you smile back a shit eating grin every time.

But what does it matter - he isn’t yours. You’re just ‘the friend’, the one woman he can count on to not try it on with him. He told you as much one time, sat huddled together in the freezing cold on someone’s back door step when you were 17. And what were you supposed to say to that? ‘Uhh, actually Matty…’, Yeah right. You smiled and took the fag that was dangling between his fingers, taking the longest drag you could manage so you didn’t have to reply. And here you are, over 15 years later, smiling sweetly and keeping your mouth occupied so you don’t ruin your life.

You’ve got a face like thunder, you can feel it. But you can’t stop it. You can’t stop looking at him, can’t stop the jealousy ripping through you. A jealousy you don’t really have a right to have. He’s got you all wound up. He’s not even looking at you and you’re on the edge of your seat.

But who are you kidding? He’s always got you wound up. Always got your knees on the verge of buckling, always got you hanging onto every word he says. You feel your whole body pulse every time he looks your way. You always have. It’s a curse you can’t escape. Not to be dramatic but sisyphus had it easy compared to you.

You all watch as he runs his hands up and down her waist, keeping his eyes on her. She giggles, bites her lip, clearly living out her rockstar fantasy. You want to strangle her. You wish this wine glass was her and you could just squeeze and squeeze and squeeze and-

“You need another drink, Y/N?” George asks, sensing that you need to be taken away from the table immediately.

“I would love another drink.”

George holds open the door to the smoking area for you.

You fumble with the packet, can’t find your lighter, realise that Matty bumped it earlier and never put it back.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!”

It’s too much. It’s the last straw. Here you are crouched down in a dingy smoking area on the verge of bawling your eyes out. All because some stupid child is holding Matty’s attention. She’s not a child, you think to yourself. She’s obviously old enough to be in here but oh what does it matter. You can’t think straight anymore.

You can’t stop thinking about his hands on her, how you wish they were on you. You’re so jealous. So jealous that she just sat down right next to him and melted onto his body. She did something in 10 seconds that you haven’t done in 10 years. And is it really that easy? Do you just need to hike your dress up, drag out your vowels, and bat your eyelashes? Will you he fuck you senseless then? Take you into the bathrooms and show you what next week looks like?

But that’s not really want you want, is it? It’s just easier to think about him if you convince yourself you only want to fuck him. That all you want is his hands in your hair and your lips on his neck. That you don’t want him in a nice, normal way at all. You don’t think about being the girl in his Instagram stories, or waking up in his arms every morning, or… or…

“This is getting pathetic, Y/N.” George’s hand is gently resting on your shoulder. He doesn’t look angry, he just looks at you with that sort of sad face you have when you can’t hide that you think someone’s being a massive twat.

“Yeah, I know. Believe me I fucking know.” You don’t mean it to sound as sad as it does. George crouches down next to you, running his hand up and down your arm.

You couldn’t count the amount of times you and George have sat like this; cuddled together as you cried about Matty. It never gets old, it’s almost a monthly event now. He joked once that you need to start marking it on the calendar for him so he can wear something he doesn’t mind you covering with makeup. You’ve become unexpectedly close. You never knew him well until that same fateful night you were put in your place by Matty. That was the first time - you sat cross legged on the kitchen counter with your lip quivering and your chest heaving, and George just held your hand until you calmed down.

“You can’t just keep crying about him. If he doesn’t feel the same way it won’t change anything; you’ll be embarrassed for a couple weeks and then it’ll all fall back into place. He’s a dick but he loves you more than anything, Y/N. You know he wouldn’t be mean about it. You know that.”

You choke back a sob. You know he’s right, it wouldn’t change anything really. You’re both adults, no one’s 16 anymore. It can be mature, you can both be sensible. But it’s always the same; gone are your inhibitions and in their place is Matty, clouding up your senses.

“I can’t do it George,” you whisper softly, wiping underneath your eyes with the sleeve of your dress, “I can’t risk losing him. I’d rather never have him the way I want and still have him here than never have him the way I want and not have him here.”

It’s too quiet. It’s quite sudden, it’s uncomfortable. It’s just a girl crying over a crush, except the girl’s in her 30’s and the crush is her best friend.

George pulls himself up off the ground, holding out his hands to help you. You take them gently and you both giggle when you fall flat on your arse. You dust yourself off and stand up properly. George takes a lighter from his pocket and lights the slightly crumpled fag you forgot you’ve been gripping onto.

“Sorry for being a massive gimp.” You laugh gently.

“S’alright, Y/L/N. My favourite thing about you.” He tries to keep his face straight but breaks into a massive grin, laughing along with you.

“I’m fine. I promise, I’m just… I don’t know, I don’t really have the words for it, to be honest with you.”

“Look, we’re gonna go back in there, get another drink, request whatever ridiculous song it takes to cheer you up, and we’re gonna have a fucking great time. Okay?”

“Okay.” You smile at him. You don’t know how anyone survives in this world without George Daniel.

He pulls you into a hug, and you can’t help but start crying again. You wipe at the tears but it does nothing other than ruin your makeup even more.

“I’m gonna look a fucking state when I go back in there.”

“Eh, it’s dark. No one will be able to tell.”

“Wow,” you laugh out, “thanks George, very reassuring.”

“Always welcome, love. Now come on, it’s fucking freezing. You can cry about being in love inside.”

As George starts to lead you back inside, you hear Matty’s voice echoing out towards you.

“Y/N? George? You guys out here? You’ve been gone for ages.” Panic pulses through you as Matty’s voice fills the smoking area.

You’re still glued to George when Matty stumbles onto you both. He looks so worried, distressed. And then he looks confused. Confused why you’re crying, why you’re clinging to George like your life depends on it.

“Yeah, yeah we’re out here. Jus’ having a chat.” George says, rubbing your back with one hand and wiping away your smudged mascara with the other.

You smile gently at Matty, not quite able to meet his eyes. You’re embarrassed, there’s really no other words for it. No excuses, no nothing, the man you’re crying your eyes out about has just wandered in on you doing it. And where do you go from there?

“Y/N? What’s going on, sweetheart? Why you crying so hard?”

He placed a hand on your check, wiping at the bottom of your eyes with his thumb. Fuck sake, your eyes begin watering again (not that they ever stopped). You don’t want to have this conversation. No one wants to have this conversation. George especially doesn’t want to be in the middle of said conversation.

“I’m Okay, Matty.”

He looks sceptical - he knows you too well for this.

“Honestly, Matty, really, I’m okay.”

Lying straight through your teeth to Matty is a fully developed talent at this stage in your life, but you just don’t have the conviction tonight. He tries to meet your eyes again. but you can’t get them off your shoes. You hear him sigh. Shame burns in you - since when couldn’t you spew shit at Matty to keep him on the wrong track?

“Darlin’… Come on, you think I don’t know you well enough to know that’s not true?”

“Matty… Please, just leave it.”

“Okay, I can’t be arsed anymore. You two are getting left to sort this out.” George makes a move towards the door, and before you can process what just happened he’s back inside.

“Fuck.” You try and run after him, but Matty grips your wrist.

“Y/N, what the fuck is going on? Why are you crying and why are you lying to me about it, Darlin’?”

His face is so gentle. His grip on your wrist has loosened but he hasn’t let go. Curls falling in his eyes, fingers on your pulse. It’s too much. It’s too much. And then his other arm snakes around your waist and you can’t do it anymore. Your chest is so tight it might combust. And your face is so hot in the cold London weather that it burns. After an eternity, you meet his eyes.

“I… I can’t… I can’t, Matty. I can’t.”

The grip tightens, he pulls you closer.

“Come on, darlin’, use your words.”

“Oh fuck off, Matthew.” You half sigh, half giggle.

“Use ‘em, come on, use ‘em. Why don’t you talk to Matty about it?”

You laugh gently, watching as his face breaks out in a smile. God he’s so pretty. His hand is still cradling your check, thumb gently gliding over your skin. You don’t want to use your words. You don’t want to talk about this at all.

“Y/N?”

“I’m fine, really. You can go back to flirting with the borderline high schooler.”

It comes out meaner than you wanted it to, and you watch as Matty’s face falls. Fuck. So much for not having this conversation.

“Her? That’s what this is about? A fan I spoke to for less than five minutes?”

You try to move away from him, your cheeks burning red from the embarrassment - like a child caught with its hand in the cookie jar. But his grip on your wrist and waist tightens and he pulls you back in.

“Don’t make me do this Matty. I mean it. Please.” Tears well in your eyes, this could be it. This could be the last time Matty ever holds you like this, ever winds you up to stop you from crying. You don’t want it to end. How could you ever want this to end.

“Y/N, are you seriously jealous of a fucking 18 year old? Do you think I’d do that to you? Really? Come on, Darlin’ use that pretty head of yours.”

You’re too busy trying not to let the tears drop that you almost don’t catch the look of sheer panic in his eyes. It stops you in your tracks. Why does he look panicked? Why would he look panicked? Your heart races.

“Matty?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

You’re so close to each other you’re basically breathing the same air. His hand around your waist has been holding yours, your other hand has just been dangling at your side since you didn’t know what to do with it. You know what to do with it now; you bring it up to the hand he has on your cheek, closing your fingers over the top of his.

“What exactly would I need to use my pretty head to figure out?”

“Fuck sake…”

“Come on, darlin’, use your words.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah - fucking c’mere.”

You would’ve laughed at him if you had time (and if you hadn’t been so shocked), but his lips latch onto yours before you can think about anything else. He’s so gentle with you, the hand that was on your waist comes up into your hair. He grips it softly, smiling to himself as you moan quietly.

Before you know it, it’s over. He pulls away from you, but he’s still so close you can hardly look at his face properly.

“I fucking hate you.” You sigh.

“Think that kiss would say otherwise, sweetheart.”

“Matthew, mate, honestly get fucked.”

“Waited 15 years but can’t wait another couple hours? My, my, my.”

“Will you fuck off?” You laugh, not meaning a single syllable of it.

“Never, darlin’. Stuck with me now.”

He kisses you softly again, smiling sweetly at you as he pulls away.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

#matty healy x reader #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x you #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 fic #the 1975 #haven’t written fic in a hot minute won’t lie #uh been at this one since like july so i hope you enjoy?#my writing

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