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#& a few pretty architecture points too

vodkassassin · 5 months

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Amity Park didn’t return to Illinois after they were transported to the ghost zone.

After all, the Zone is fickle even in transporting singular entities like the smallest blob ghost. How about an entire town, with all those people in it?

Instead of Illinois, they end up slightly off the coast of New Jersey, a long time before Amity Park, Illinois ever existed.

Fixing damages that happened to the town during the transfer is considered a total loss, so they scrap everything and rebuild. Since the ghost issue seems to not be going anywhere ever, the decision to lean into the aesthetic and embrace it instead of denying and fighting it is nearly unanimous (save for a few ghost hunters here and there, but they are the minority).

It’s easy to slide into their new existence. Things are very different from the modern life they’re all used to, but much is still the same.

Phantom is always there to protect.

Hauntings are a part of their very foundations.

Amity Park was always pretty isolated, all things considered. So they continue on.

Tucker later on becomes mayor of the new town Gotham (Sam has a heavy hand in convincing everyone to go along with the name). He holds his position much longer and with far higher approval ratings than his predecessor.

Sam eventually marries someone who moved to the newly established Gotham from the mainland, on a business venture, whose last name is Wayne.

Together, they inherit what’s left of the immense Manson wealth.

People from the mainland come and go, providing economy. Not a lot of them stick around, too uneasy of the supernaturally dreary atmosphere of Gotham Island and it’s frankly hostile architecture. The Amitians — Gothamites now — don’t really get it. What’s wrong with ghosts??

The original townspeople are so saturated with ectoplasm at this point that they’ve ceased aging. They die eventually, but immediately become ghosts and just make the trip through the portal to become citizens of Phantom’s kingdom in the Infinite Realms. All things considered, nothing much changes after death, either.

However, it’s soon decided that before any more new people can move to Gotham, the portal must be closed and locked for the safety of the regular humans who are not as immune to the influence of the Zone.

So the portal is buried and hidden, locked and guarded by the eternal soldiers of the Ghost King, the key safely kept on the King’s person at all times.

Life goes on. Years pass. The true origins of Gotham fall into the realm of the forgotten. Eventually, it becomes what it is today.

Batman and all.

The Batcave is more home to Bruce Wayne than even the manor that caps it. That’s because in the cave, he is a step closer to a portal to the Infinite Realms that has been locked and hidden deep underneath the land that once belonged to his ancestors, the Manson-Waynes.

As a direct descendant of one of the original Amity Park townspeople, and one who was (is) so closely tied to the haunt of the Ghost King himself, Bruce has always had a special and innate connection to the town and the land that his city is built on, but never really knew why.

He just thinks of it as his father Thomas explained it to him; the Manson-Waynes, later the Waynes, had been one of the founding families families of Gotham — alongside the Fenton, Baxter, and Sanchez families. Since the other families have long since died out, it’s up to the Waynes to uphold their legacy, and that duty falls to Bruce.

Or so that’s how Thomas, who knew nothing of Gotham’s ghostly, Amitian origins, understood it.

It’s not until Jason, back from the dead, becomes a regular part of the family again, that Bruce starts feeling as if something is different about the cave, and then later the city at large.

Almost as if it’s been awakened, somehow.

#dc x dp #danny phantom #Batman #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp prompt #amity park

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screaminglygay · 7 months

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KINKTOBER day 4

pairing: witch!wanda x fem!reader

summary: trick or treat? definitely a treat!

warnings: smut!!!, dark!wanda, dubcon!!, anal, overstimulation, edging, grooping, kinda voyeurism, inserting tentacles, over all dark themes! if you find anything else - I’ll add it!

words count: 3.6k

an: to be honest im not really sure what i did here, umm this fic was written with the biggest block ever, so I do apologize, also it wasn’t proofread, so yeah

(italics = your thoughts)

!MDNI!

Enjoy this spooky time and be safe!

"I´m coming! Just a minute," was heard on the other side of the door as soon as you knocked. Every second bring your body more anxiety, so you try to shake it off by fidgeting with your ring.

After few minutes the door finally opens - and a pretty tall lady, with red hair and aboslutely georgous black dress smiles at you. Your eyes scan her whole look under a second and you look back into her eyes. Her emerald green eyes, framed by long, dark lashes, glisten with a captivating emotion. Her gaze is drawing you in with a mysterious charm. These stunning green eyes seem to reflect the beauty, but also the mystery that comes with the readhead infront of you.

"Trick or treat!" you say as you smile back at her.

"Oh sweetheart," now it´s her turn to look you up and down. Her smile is raplaced by a confusion. "um... and what are you supposed to be?" The redhead tilts her head.

"I- uh a witch." You try to answer with confidence, as you bring your wand up to show her your full fit.

You wouldn´t win an award for the best costume this Halloween, but you tried and everything is homemade, so you should definitely get some bonus points for that. Full black outfit with some spider webs around your torso sounded like a good idea, but maybe it was really hard to tell who are you trying to be.

"Oh- i see now." She nods, but you can see the disappointment in her face. She throws some candy into your bag, but you notice right away that it was only a licorice sweets, which is the worst thing she could give you. "Where is the rest of your group?" She asks as she looks behind you as if she´s waiting for someone else to come.

"Uh... it´s just me. No one wanted to go with me, since they think my outfit sucks." You sigh as you look down, deep down feeling like they might be right.

"Oh no, sweetheart. None of that." She steps closer and her soft fingers touches your chin, lifting it for you to make eye contact with her. "How about I´ll help you with your outfit and at the end of the night you´ll have every candy you ever dreamed off?" Her fingers gently caressing your chin.

"Really?" Your eyes spark with excitement. So much excitement.

"Come on in." The redhead let go of your chin and steps away from the door so you can come inside.

"Thank youuu-" Your eyes met hers again.

"Please call me Wanda." She smiles.

"Thank you, Wanda." You smile back.

As you come inside you can notice that her house is magnificent, everywhere you look you can see architectural details and many ornate decorations, especially on the stairs. It feels kinda like a labyrinth of richly hued tapestries, ornamental vases, and mirrors that capture the light just perfectly. Every corner of the house is a organized, with towering bookshelves that look like a billion dollars worth collection of books, with lots of knowlage in them. The overall ambiance is like a old charm, a sensations of history and elegance. To be honest you wouldn´t be shocked if an 150 old lady lived here, not a beautiful young lady like Wanda.

"Ohh so you like witches too?" You look through her library, reading some of her book titles.

Spells - and everything that comes with them, Spreading your power, Flying around the world: positions, Potions - third edition (extremly addicting)...

Wanda hums as she watches you being interest in her books. "I wrote most of them myself." She says, her voice was still sweet, but you could hear the little harsh tone she added to it, raspy growl with an accent, once subtle and charming, and now pronounced and intense. But you couldn´t put the accent anywhere, maybe somewhere in Europe? East? West? You really didn´t know where to point.

"So you´re an author?" You turn to her.

"You could say that, yeah." Wanda nods.

"That is so cool," you mumbled as something weird and pitch black caught your eye. It was a really dark book, more like a journal that definetly had some history, "what´s that?" you took it from the shelf.

"That is a something like my personal journal." The readhead steps closer to you.

"Oh sorry, I didn´t meant to invade your privacy!" Her hand fall on yours as you wanted to put the book back, where you took it.

"It´s okay, I don´t have any secrets. You can read it." Wanda smiles again.

As you open the book you notice that even her handwriting is so neat and beautiful. It suits her somehow, but as you continue to flip the pages her writing went from tall and pretty to harsh and short. Reading few sentences seem like a good idea, since you had Wanda´s approval. Your face went from smile to confussion real quick. But then it hit you. The woman infront of you you, known as Wanda, is a witch. Despite this revelation, you find yourself not scared but rather intrigued by the truth.

This whole time Wanda was looking at you, waiting for you to speak first.

"So... you´re also a witch?" You try to ease the situations by a joke.

"Also?" She chuckles. "Darling, this poor outfit looks on you more like a trash bag then a costume." Her words hurts. More than you want to admit.

Is my outfit really that shitty?

"Do you want an honest answer, sweetheart?" She steps closer.

Oh so she can read minds now, great.

"I can do more than just read minds." Her accent is very strong by now.

"I- can you not read my mind?" You look at her, noticing she got really close to you.

"Your thoughts are really loud, sweetheart. It´s kinda hard to resist." She almost whispers.

Are they? I can´t think- how do i stop thinking? Oh she´s really close. I don´t mind that. Fuck. (Y/N), not now. I would take her. On a walk, definetly on a walk. No in other way.

Wanda just laughs at your poor tries at calming down your thoughts. "Im glad you´re not afraid of me. That will ease things."

What things? Am I afraid? No. Maybe a little. Who knows? She does.

"Well helping with your new outfit, silly. Which will also help you make more sweets throughout the night."

"Oh! Right!" You nod, immediately following her to her living room, you guess.

You both enter the living room, a space illuminated by the warm, flickering light of few lit candles. Your eyes caught a few wine glasses, each bearing the mark of different shades of lipstick on the enormous wooden table. However, your attention remains fixed on Wanda, who is eager to assist you in making your new Halloween costume.

"Sit over there and I´ll bring some stuff." Wanda smiles and with that she leaves the living room.

You get bored very easily so not even after two minutes you´re on your feet again, glancing around the room. Your eyes are drawn to a paintings adorning the walls. Each canvas is a totally different theme. A dark landscape with rolling hills and a small lake makes you to step into its peaceful scene. Beside it, a bold, abstract burst with vibrant colors, evoking a sense of energy and excitement, which is something you definitely wouldn´t put in a place like this. The figurative portrait of a dark figure seems to watch over the place, which freaks you out a little, since you feel like it´s watching every single one of your steps, even though you can´t really see its face. As you watch these paintings, you don´t even hear Wanda come back.

"I thought I told you to sit over there." Her tone was once again very harsh, which made you feel like a kid that didn´t listen to their mother.

"Sorry, I was just admiring art." You shrug as you sit back, where you were in the first place.

Wanda didn´t say anything, she just started to take things from her bag and list through a book. "Here it is! This will definitely earn you bags full of sweets." She looks at you. "If you´re still in?"

"Yes, of course!" You nod and before you even fully stand up Wanda push you back down with her magic. "Oh wow, that was... so cool." You smile as you notice the red mist flying around.

Wanda smiles at your fascination and comes closer to you. "I need you to close your eyes and trust me, can you do that?" She tilts her head.

"Yes, Wanda. I can do that, if I´ll have a lots of sweets by the end of the night, I will do it!" Your eyes are sparking with bigger excitement than before as you imagine all the chocolate you will eat.

"Okay." She helps you lay down on the couch, which feels really soft on your skin and it makes you close your eyes instantly. "Good, just no matter what, I need you to have your eyes closed, I want it to be surprise." Wanda´s whispers trailing right down your spine.

"I love surprises, I will keep my eyes closed, I promie. Pinky promise!" With your closed eyes you held out a pinky. Almost punching her in the face, but she quickly dodge it. Wanda just smiles at your antics and extends her pinky to make a promise with you.

It took you one more shift on the couch to feel fully comfortable. "I´m ready." You mumble to let Wanda know, even though she can read your mind. Right after the magic start to float around once again.

You feel a lot of silly sensations right away, it feels like a tickling, which in fact makes you giggle out loud. "Tickles!" You say between the laughs.

"I know, it will be just a minute, darling." She smirks, knowing that the tickling feeling is just her magic taking your clothes fully off. At the same time Wanda reagulates your body tempeture with her spells, so you don´t feel even the slightest changes.

The ticklings stops and you fully relax on the couch again, taking a deep breath in and out. Nothing is happening for a few minutes, so it´s very tempting to open your eyes and look what´s going on.

Did she left? Um... should I-

"Absolutly not! If you can´t keep your eyes closed I´ll help you with that too, since I believe you can´t do anything on your own." Wanda scoffs and slides a blindfold over your head. Even if you tried opening your eyes now, you would see pitch black.

The spells and magic start to float around again, red mist tangling around your body. Wanda just sits in her fluffy chair on the other side of the living room. Glass with red wine in her hand as she watches you with hunger in her eyes.

As you open your mouth to talk, you let out a moan. You suddenly feel a warm rush of embarrassment wash over you, your cheeks turning a shade of crimson. It's as if a spotlight has been directed on your momentary lapse, and you can sense the weight of her eyes on you. You fumble for words and wish for a way to disappear into the floor, but the awkwardness lingers.

You feel something touching your body, something that is soft, yet very hard. A delightful sensation begins to spread across your entire body, as if invisible hands are gently caressing your skin. It's like a soothing, expertly executed massage, relaxation and comfort. This wave of bliss sweeps through you, releasing tension and stress with every touch, and you surrender to the embrace of calm that envelops you.

What the hell is that?

"What is what, darling?" Wanda asks, you can hear her voice on the other side of the room, so she can´t be the one touching you. "Oh that? It is just measuring spell, for your outfit to fit perfectly, sweetheart."

"O-okay." You kinda whine out. "I thought that-"

"Oh don´t be silly!" She laughs. "Just stay still." She adds with her raspiness again.

You´re staying still as much as you can. The sensations coursing through your body are unraveling the knots of tension that once held you captive. Muscle melting into a state of pure relaxation. Each touch seems to release a sigh of relief from deep within, and you sink further into a state of blissful repose. "I need you to be relaxed, otherwise it´s not going to fit, darling." Wanda adds.

Fit? Fit what?

"All the accessories." Once again she answer your inner question.

Wanda felt like you were ready and like you can and will take whatever she give you as a addiction to your costume.

You can feel something spreading your legs a bit and moving you little of the couch. The warm feeling never leaving your body, it´s the other way around actually, it´s just increasing. It’s weird how come you can feel a touch all around your body, when Wanda is on the other side of the room. You can hear her cutting out some cloth and time to time her soft humming.

"Oh my god-" you yelp as you can feel something wet between your legs.

How come I´m this wet? Did I pee myself? Oh my god! What is going on?

"Everything okay, darling?" Wanda asks as she´s looking at your hips, slowly going up and down. Your pussy is leaking and she didn´t even touch you.

"Yes! All good!" You´re hoping you´re just feeling things, but Wanda would already say something if things wouldn´t be okay. So it is just silly feelings. Oh you know what it is, it´s the little axienty from being blindfolded, now it make sense. You’re just anxious.

Wanda listen to your thoughs as she´s having the time of her life. It´s time for the actual fun to begin. She extends her hands, conjuring four crimson, ethereal tentacles of pure energy. These serpentine tentacles undulate, glowing with the passionate and dangerous red hue, slowly extending toward their target, you. It's a captivating display of Wanda's magical skills, a vivid manifestation of her power.

As each of them lay on you, you can feel a little wetness, that sticks to you right away. It feels... good. Really good. Whatever measuring device this is, you want to feel it in you-

'Your wish is my command' is Wanda´s first thought. One of the tentacles are slowly teasing you on your inner thighs. Moving slowly up and down your leg. "I need to measure your thighs, darling. Just to make sure your costume is the perfect size. Just give me a moment." She say from the other corner of the room, sipping on her wine.

How come I can feel her, when she´s over there?

Your thoughts are quickly swap away as you feel something really hard enter your already drenched pussy. And before you can think things through, you felt absolutely nothing in your head, just pleasure. The world seems to align perfectly with Wanda´s and yours desires, creating a warm and euphoric feeling, gentle you could say. Or moan at the current state your in.

You feel like your in a dream. A very good one may Wanda add.

The enormous thing is going in and out of you like it was nothing. Wanda´s eyes are on you as she watches in awe how you didn´t resist at all. How naive you´ve been the whole time. How come little thing like you survived for such a long time in this cruel and scary world by yourself? It´s a miracle and Wanda already knows she can´t risk your well being any much longer. It is just the right time for someone to take care of you. And she´s doing a really good job at it.

As you think nothing can make you feel better, you feel the same wetness that is going in and out of you, sliding up and down your ass. Subconsciously you move, so your in better position for whatever is coming. And trust Wanda, there is always something coming.

It´s way slower and more gentle. Your mind is waiting only for one thing, a slight push. But Wanda wants to tease you for little bit, she wants your body to beg for it, when your head is too foggy to do so. You don´t feel embarrassed anymore, you don´t care. You need everything that Wanda will give you.

Wanda is still sipping on her wine as she watches you struggle, but she is feeling generous tonight, especially when she found you in this poor state, scared, weak, but mostly alone with no one who would saved you, but that will change, starting tonight at this moment.

She let her magic finally push in. As one tentacle is going in and out your pussy at the speed of light, the other one is sliding out of your ass so slow, that you start to move your hips for more. The third tentacle is slowly making its way to your clit, making you feel overstimulated.

And if Wanda was afraid you´ll be overthinking too much, now she knows you won´t ever think again. The sight of you, ruining her expensive couch with your juices is something she will make you do often. Because this is what you´ve been made to do.

You´re close and your voice is cracking from all the screaming you did tonight, Wanda finally stands up, putting her glass on the table and walks over to you, her hand finally touching you and going up and down your stomach as her red tentacles doing their own job. When her hand touches you, it's like a soothing embrace, that is also very harsh. You can feel the warmth radiating from her touch. In that moment, the outside world fades completly away, leaving you with the sensation of her touch.

She knows your close and she would love to see you fall apart, but she knows she can´t rush things. So after few squeezes of your tits and light pinch to each of your nipples, she stops. Completely. Everything. All of her magic disappearing and she makes a step back.

If you´d had any energy left you would scream, but right now, you´re just shaking on her couch. As the cold sensation envelops you, it's as if a thick dark fog descends upon your mind. The chill seeps into your thoughts, causing confusion and a sense of detachment. This cold, fuzzy feeling blurs your senses and creates an unsettling disconnect from the warmth and clarity you once knew. This is totally different from your fuzzy mind before, because at that time you were in pleasure, but now? You don´t have even that.

After a few minutes of you just laying there Wanda takes off your blindfold and you´re back in some clothes, that feels very soft. You blink a few times.

"What´s wrong, darling? You don´t like the new costume I made you?" She shushes you and wipe your falling tears. You look down, touching your new outfit, that honestly looks way better than the one you made yourself. You've got a long, black, flowing dress and a purple cloak with cool silver designs next to you. "I assumed you wouldn´t want a hat, since you didn´t had one earlier. But I made you this..." She gave you a small version of her pitch black journal.

"I- um..." You´re still shaken up from what happened before.

But what even happened before?

"You fell asleep, silly. It was hard to put those on, but look at you now!" Wanda smiles.

I slept?

"You had an intesne dream?" Wanda looks at you with concern and all you could do is just nod.

After a few minutes of complete silence Wanda comes back with a big bag full of sweets.

"Oh my god!" And your little mind is now occupied with sweets. Everything is good now.

"It´s all yours... like I´ve said. Your new outfit will make you bag full of your favorites." Wanda smiles and hands you the bag.

"Oh my god, thank you!" You take it without a beat.

"No, I thank you, darling. You know where to find me if you want more." Wanda winks and you feel this ache between your legs.

"I- uh huh." You nod once again.

As Wanda closed the door behind you, she knew right away, that you will be back soon. She needs you to come back by yourself, if she captured you now, it wouldn’t do a single good. And till that time, her magic will follow you everywhere, to make sure her new thing is safe. And that your mind is always occupied by really important things.

Wanda comes into the living room to clean, she looks at the couch that is still very wet and as she´s in her head a group of people appears behind her.

"How the hell do you always do this, Maximoff?" A tall blonde asks with jealousy in her voice.

"You always have the most naive ones and they literally come to you!" Other lady snarks.

Wanda smiles and turns around. "Well I think that this one will be open for some sharing. Literally." She smirks at her own joke.

Knock knock.

Wanda opens the door and to her surprise it´s you.

"Hai, um... i was thinking- I really like this one chocolate, but i found only one in the bag you gave me so uh, do you have maybe another one? I can trade it for something!" You smile at her.

Wanda is just looking at you with smile on her face. As you came way sooner and she doesn’t know what to say.

"Of course! We have plenty of those here and we will happily trade it with you for something else!" The blonde one almost pushed Wanda out of the way.

"Great! Thanks!" You happily walked back in.

Let´s just say, that after that night you had every sweet you ever wished for. And they had their own.

Oooof this was something. I need to get my writing spirit back, cuz this ain’t it.

Anyways thank you for reading!!!

#adele writes #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #kinktober 2023 #day four #witch!wanda #marvel universe

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gh0st-t0wn3 · 2 months

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I finally had time to make proper designs for the Trio!

Redson: Ver 1

Ver 2

I couldn't decide on if I liked it better with the braids or not so I just posted both, but anyways!

I gotta admit, I used to not like the idea of redson having Bull features (except for a small pair of horn maybe) but the concept really grew on me and now I really love it and wanted to try making my own design and I'm really proud with how it turned out.

I would've added more scars, since Guanyins throne pierced his entire body, but there came a point where it just looked like there was too much going on so I had to get rid of a few scars to tone it down, so we're just gonna say they faded over time, okay? Okay.

I also made him Miao (one of the largest ethnic minorities in southwest China) on PIF's side, and Mongolian on DBK's.

The Miao ethnicity of China has a long history, rich culture, and an ancient folk religion. Adorned in beautiful traditional clothes, possessing natural talent for singing and dancing, they live in uniquely designed indigenous architecture, which I think fits perfectly with how I imagined Princess Iron Fan and with her; Redson.

As for DBK being Mongolian, I saw someone else talking about this headcanon and I just liked it so I decided to use it, I don't really have a specific reason for it, I just thought it fit, not sure why though, it's just one of those things that makes sense even if you don't know why, you know?

Mei:

I made her taller and gave her a long dragon tail (like really long, it drags along the floor if she's not holding it up), though her scales are pretty much everywhere across her body they're most noticeable on her shoulders, thighs, and face (they're a bit hard to see in this photo because they're kinda hidden behind her hair, but I did give her scales beside her eyes)

I also gave her horns these little spiral designs around them, gave her sharper nails, and designed her ears to look like coral, since she's a water dragon and I thought they looked cool.

Honestly idk what else to say about her design, I didn't have anything specific in mind when designing her, I kinda just had to wing it, but I'm happy with how it turned out :)

(I also made her Bengali, on her dad's side, but it's not really important or has any reason behind it, just a headcanon I've had for a while, don't know where it came from though)

MK:

Alot of people have speculated that the monkey form we see during the fight against Azure in season 4 isn't MK's full form yet, that we're just seeing a fraction of what he's yet to become, based on the fact that while he has the weird side burns, the tail and the face marking, he also lacks a natural skin tone, they didn't give him a proper nose etc, so I wanted to play with the idea.

I decided to make him this strange mix between human and monkey, leaving him pretty much human with the addition of his tail(s), and weird li'l monkey feet.

(I was also gonna give MK more arm/leg hair, it was in my first sketch, but I forgot to add them when I was doing the line art and didn't realize until after I saved it as a jpeg, so that's my bad, but I'm gonna add it in to any other art I make)

It's also a bit hard to see in this, but I designed his staff with more details, specifically adding dragon-esque imagery to the Golden ends, this is because (for anyone who's new to the fandom/hasn't read JTTW) Wukong's staff was originally one of the several pillars that held up the sea in the dragon palace, until he stole it and shrunk it down to use as his weapon.

I also did MK's clones :)

Porty MK:

I gave him stripes of coloured hair and gave his tails all different colours, though I don't think he would actually dye it, instead I like to think that he would use that really crappy dollar store spray in hair dye (or hair chalk). I kept the fishnet clothes that I added in my originally design of him for my headcanons post, and decided to give him striped elbow length fingerless gloves.

I also gave him a cropped shirt, ripped shorts and these weird fingerless glove-esque shoes for convenience, since regular shows seem like they would be uncomfortable.

Edit: my dumbass forgot Porty's stupid print jacket 😭

Artist MK:

For Artist MK I gave him overalls and a jacket over it, which he wears specifically for when he's doing paintings so he doesn't ruin too many of his actual clothes (I know I said that this was inspod by Circusapple, which it still is, but this is almost exactly what I wear when I'm painting too, just in different colours).

I also gave him those gloves that digital artists wear so they're hands don't accidently trigger something on the screen because everyone knows that every artist just walks around with their art glove on even when it's not necessary.

Delivery MK:

I have to admit, I was never a big fan of MK's work uniform just being his regular clothes with a work jacket thrown over it so I wanted to try and make him look a little more professional and decided to instead give him a chef coat (similar to the one Pigsy wears on the show as well), with a logo for the restaurant on the chest, along with it I gave him plain black pants, since casual red jeans didn't seem very professional (I know he's just a delivery person, but if you were to look at pretty much any food corporation, even people who do deliveries have to wear uniform, so it's always been kinda strange to me that he's just in regular clothes).

The shoes were harder to make professional given the whole "half-monkey" thing so I opted to give him the same strange fingerless glove-esque shoes for comfort and convenience, but made them plain black as well.

#lego monkie kid #fanart #lego monkie kid red son #monkie kid red son #lego monkey kid fanart #red son #lego monkie kid mk #lmk spicynoodles #lmk mk #hong hai'er #lmk mei #lego monkie kid mei #monkie kid mei #long xiaojiao #qi xiaotian

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straykidshoe · 4 months

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Talk to me ?

PAIRINGS: Lee Minho x Fem!Reader

GENRE: Mature (Smut)

MUSIC: Aquainted by The Weeknd

CONTAINS: College au, enemies to lovers

SMUT WARNINGS: Oral (f recieving), heavy groping, phone sex (she's on the phone whilst getting some.), squirting, Minho being innocent bad boy. please message me if i misseed anything.

WORD COUNT: 2,969

A/N: Numero 2! bad boy with a heart of gold lee know is a weakness of mine. Please send some love for my work <333

You always hated Lee Know, the confident asshole would always sit on your right- always on your fucking right. Be it in class, or in the library where you were trying to study-anywhere you were trying to have some peace and quiet- there he was. With his gang of troublemakers, covered in tattoos and deliciously styled in a way that made you secretly clench your thighs together.

But you could never let him know, you just had to grind your teeth and let him do what he wanted because what could you do? It was a public space, anyone could do whatever they wanted as long as they were quiet. So you opted to ignore him, trying not to let his dangerous pull ensnare you, like many of his other victims.

That was until the day your teacher had asked you and him to stay back, it was a tuesday.. Phycology 101. And there he was- standing in front of the teacher’s desk, head turned back lazily, an expectant look in his eyes whilst you packed your bag- taking your own sweet ass time. Slowly you reached your professor, a sweet woman who would always give you a shiny A+ on every assignment, like every other course teacher you had.

‘-I need you to tutor him.’ You had tuned out the rest of the sentence your professor was saying, mainly because you were definitely not staring at the man next to you- how does someone so annoying have such a pretty side profile..Wait what?

‘Tutor..him?’ you pointed at Minho who was smirking at you,

‘Yes Miss Y/N. Will it be a problem?’ Your teacher was looking at you with such kind eyes, and who were you to say no to someone, a professor no less.

‘I would be happy to Miss.’ You said through your fake smile, your teeth had begun to dry out with how long your face had been fixed in the position.

‘Lovely! I’ll let you two discuss the details-’ She clapped her hands together before shifting her gaze to Minho, ‘-And you, I want to see a real improvement. You’re doing so well in your other classes, so it shouldn’t be too hard. Especially with such a wonderful teacher.’ Your teacher grinned at you, ‘Off you go now, my next class is about to begin!’

As you walked down the crowded hallways of the science block, you were trying to ignore the large presence following you around, hoping that with the many twists and turns you took- he would get the picture and leave you alone.

Soon enough you had reached the girls dormitory, the old vintage architecture always made you calm and serene, imagining the fancy women with beautiful dresses roaming the sidewalks when the university didn’t exist. How badly you wanted to be like them, rich and powerful so effortlessly..

‘Ahem, Ahem’ The coughing noise made you stop in your tracks, you hardly noticed Minho following you, assuming he would stop tailing you like a lost dog. Groaning underneath your breath, you turned on your heel,

‘What?’ You supported your books on one hand as you flipped your hair off your shoulder,

‘Well, when are you free?’ He shoved his hands into his pockets, swaying on the sole of his shoes. God you hated the way his hair billowed out, like a fucking cotton candy- how badly you wanted to take a stick and just-

‘Here- take my number, text me later.’ Once again his movements created an obstacle in your train of thought as he took a pen out of your open pouch and scrawled a few digits onto a scrap piece of paper sticking out from your notebook, placing the pen back in its position- he reached out and tucked a strand of stray hair behind your ear, ‘Don’t miss me too much sweetheart’ You flinched away from his touch, the pads of his fingers against your skin causing a spark of electricity to travel through you.

‘I won’t’, you gritted out from behind your teeth as you watched his retreating figure stop in front of the boys dormitory and begin conversation with one of his friends, ‘Asshole..’ you pushed the door open and sighed as the air conditioned foyer welcomed you in from the heat. Opening the small chit of paper he rested on top of the stack of books in your arm, you sat down on the common room couch. Quickly, you typed in the number into your phone- wanting to get any sense of him away from your person as swiftly as possible. Throwing away the chit in a nearby trash can, you started the treacherous trek of climbing around 5 flights of stairs to your dorm.

It was later the same day, and you had texted the devil himself to meet you in your dorm to begin classes. Since your last meeting with him, you had changed out of your white sweater and black skirt into some old night shorts and a spaghetti strap, along with switching out your contacts with a pair of glasses- but you kept your hair done, a long ponytail adorned with a purple bow clipped on at the rubber band. Lord knows how long that took you in the morning.

Around 6pm, there was a knock on your door- and there he was, in all of his glorious asshole-ness. One arm leaning on the top of your doorframe, another loosely holding onto the strap of his bag- he wore a long black top with grey sweatpants…

Of course he owns grey sweatpants, would he be your most stunning nightmare if he didn’t?

‘Can I come in, or do you need more time to eye-fuck me?’ He smiled at your stunned expression, removing his hand from the doorframe to step closer to you- scanning your face with a piercing gaze.

‘Whatever..’ Clearing your throat, you took a step away from him- giving him space to enter your room. You close the door, keeping your hand on the cold metal doorknob hoping that it will cool down the heat that had swept over your body. Maybe you should open a window?

‘You can sit there for now, next time we’ll meet up in the library,’ A hum of acknowledgement came from behind you. You made your way to the man who was now making himself comfortable on your plush bed, ‘Nice room princess, very.. clean’ he drawled as you sat in front of him and the open textbook in between you both- you scoffed at his comment, ‘Thanks, I guess.’

You brought your own book onto your lap, starting off with the very basics, ‘The first topic in our syllabus is the problem of intuition- it's pretty simple. Look’ You took a highlighter and began to explain meticulously every word in front of him, making sure to stop and answer his questions- if he had any.

This same stop and start procedure kept going for about 1 hour, and Minho was doing surprisingly well, he was attentive, asked all the right questions and answered yours with perfection every single time.

Though, you did catch him looking at you instead of the textbook. But that was a coincidence. That’s what you told yourself the last 4 times it happened,

‘Are you even listening to me?’ you asked him, annoyance evident in your tone, looking up at him from your hunched position over the very neon yellow highlighted text.

‘Yes, obviously I am listening to you Y/N’ He responded, equally annoyed,

‘Well, it doesn’t look like it.’ You straightened your back- squinting your eyes at him.

‘What is your problem with me?’ he threw his hands up, before crossing them over his chest- leaning back against your headboard, ‘I don’t talk to you, and you're annoyed with me. I talk to you, somehow I'm the asshole. What have I even done to you?’ He asked, accusation dripping from his words.

You climbed off the bed, ‘Because..’ you trailed off, for once in your life, you were at a loss for words, ‘Because you annoy me.’

‘Wow, and here I was thinking that you’re smart.’

‘Rude, it’s just-’ it was your turn to fling your arms in the air, ‘You’re annoying. You always pick at my hair, always make fun of my clothes. So, I just started being equally mean to you’

He gaped at you, ‘Firstly, I don’t pick at your hair- it was one time, and I was complimenting you,’ He brought one finger up, like he was checking off boxes in his mind, ‘And secondly, I have never made fun of your clothes- I think you look nice in them.’ he brought up the second finger, before looking back up at you.

‘Yeah, sure,’ you placed you hands on your hips, scrunching up the soft cotton material adorning your body, ‘Whenever you talk to me, you just use the same cheap pick-up lines that you use on all of the other girls you fuck’

His eyes widened in understanding, ‘You’re..jealous’

‘No- no I am not jealous.’ You aren't jealous, you were never that type to get jealous, especially over a guy you never had, ‘You’re just excruciatingly- Ugh’ you groaned, burying your head into your palms, ‘Forget it- where were we..’

You tried to clamber back onto the bed, but he was in your way- standing in front of you, following the steps you took trying to go around him, ‘Move, we still have another half of the-’ you stopped mid sentence when he crooked his index finger under your chin, guiding your head up to meet his eyes, ‘W-what are you doing..’

‘Just admit that you’re jealous.. And I’ll give you what you want’ he smirks, dragging his lips over your cheek- leaving a burning path in their wake. Holy shit.

Your breath hitches, ‘I will do no such thing,’ you were going for firm, but whatever just came out of your mouth was breathless, whiny. Just what he wanted.

‘Come on Princess, I know you want to..’ he had moved to your ear, nibbling on the soft cartilage. Just when you were teetering on the edge of succumbing to his mind games, your phone rang- the ringtone echoing around both of you.

You cursed under your breath- it was 7:30, your father always calls you at 7:30. On a tuesday. And if you didn’t pick up, there would be a heap of messages for you to answer in the next 10 minutes.

You rushed over to your phone, sliding the call button over and holding it up to your ear, ‘Hey dad…’ you looked up to Minho who was boring holes into your face, you held your finger up to your lips- narrowing your eyes at him when he approached you at your desk.

You stifle a gasp when he connects his lips to your neck, sucking and biting at the skin- teasing it between his teeth, ‘Yeah, nothing- nothings wrong. How’s mum?’ you mumble into the phone, before rolling your eyes back when he drags one strap off your shoulder, planting a kiss onto the sensitive skin.

You hear him snicker against your shoulder before doing the same to the other side, you shoot daggers down at him. Trying to will him to stop before you end up giving your father a very inappropriate memory- but the man doesn’t get the message and pulls your tank top up from the hem, stopping just below your breasts.

Exposing your stomach and shoulders to the chilly air in your room, whilst keeping your breasts covered by the remaining fabric, Minho gets down on his knees in front of you- looking up into your hooded eyes, looking for any signs of inhibition- but all he can see are your cheeks flushed with colour and blown out pupils.

Painfully slow, he brought his face closer to your stomach- leaving wet kisses everywhere. Man, he is such a fucking tease. You lean back, resting your ass on the side of your desk whilst your free hand grips the wood so hard it looks like it’s about to crack; lolling you head up, you felt your brain getting fuzzy so much so that you almost missed what your father was saying on the other end of the phone, ‘Hmm, what dad? No, no I am not distracted. No please don’t go get mum- dad!’ you groan heavily as the familiar hold music blares into your ear.

You gaze down at Minho, snarling when he starts drag his fingers around the waistband of your shorts- cupping your hand over the microphone, you bring your head low enough so you can hiss, ‘Don’t you fucking dare..’

He shoots you a cheeky grin before roughly pulling them down your legs, he pushes you further into the desk- forcing you to sit on the smooth dark wood. Just as you were about to curse at the personified version of horny, your mother’s shrill voice screeches out of the speaker, ‘Darling, your father tells me you don’t sound well. Should we come by to visit?’ You open your mouth to answer, just as Minho leaves an open mouth kiss on your panties- just over your leaking sex.

You bite your knuckle as your parents continue to bombard you with unrecognisable words, honestly. You couldn’t care less about whatever your parents were going on about when Lee fucking Know was in between your legs kissing the sensitive part of your thighs, teasing you to the point where there was now a visible dark patch on the crotch of your underwear.

‘Mhm yea sure mum, you can come by tomorrow. No I am not trying to get rid of you- no mother I still love you-’ you hold the phone away from your ear so that you are not subjected to the shrieks of your beloved parents.

You glance back down at Minho who was now prodding the wet cotton with his finger, he curled an eyebrow up at you. And as much as you wanted to tell him, ‘No you beautiful bastard, I do not want you to finger me senseless whilst I am on the phone to my parents,’ you just whimpered and nodded you head down at him- sighing in relief when he pushed your underwear to the side and sunk his long, middle finger until the knuckle.

‘Y/N? Y/N can you hear me, see I told you- we should never have let her stay in the dorms.’ You grit your teeth as your mother threw around these accusations.

Sighing in frustration you cut the call- deciding to deal with the ramifications later, you moaned out loud when he curled his finger upward, ‘Please..’ Minho wretched his gaze away from your dripping cunt, ‘Please what sweetheart? Gotta tell me what you want..’ he smirked up at you, damn him and his smirk, sighing in frustration you gripped his soft strands and whispered out into the silence, ‘Want you to finger me senseless, then fuck me into oblivion’ you smiled down at his stunned expression, before choking on a moan when he added a second finger into you- providing you with a sinful stretch.

‘Well, well, well. All it takes is me fucking you senseless? Shoulda told me that earlier, dirty little slut..’ he breathes out a chuckle against your pubic hair as he drags himself up to your face, keeping his fingers stuffed within you.

Slotting himself between your legs, he connects both your lips into a messy, heated kiss- you felt his tongue caress yours poisoning you with the sweetest venom. Pulling away, you groan when his fingers start moving at a brutal pace- gripping his loose shirt, you slip your hands underneath, revelling in the small divots and bumps his toned stomach contain, ‘Holy shit-’ you gasp out resting your head on Minho’s shoulder,

‘Nuh uh, want you to keep your eyes on me when you cum around my fingers..’ you loll your head up, before reaching the tight fabric around your breasts down, exposing them to his ferocious gaze- bringing one of your hands off your desk, you roll your perky nipple between the pads of your thumb and index finger, ‘Fuck Fuck- Minho please, please lemme cum. Wanna cum for you..’ you babble incoherent sentences against his lips, praying to whichever god is willing to answer you that he lets you cum, ‘Oh God..’ you bite down on his lip, revelling in his deep moan when you draw the smallest amount of blood.

He pulls away, ‘Not God, baby- Lee Minho’ his deep growl paired with him harshly pressing the heel of his palm against your clit sends you off the edge, like a rubber band pulled to taut. You snap. It feels like you're on cloud 9, you sag against him- twitching and breathing heavily; you feel wrung out of all energy.

Until Minho uses his thumb to roll your puffy clit underneath the pad of his large finger, ‘Shit-’ you jerk up, rutting and rolling your hips into his harsh movements, ‘Ngh, No- no stop. It hurts..’ You whimper loudly, he ignores your cries when he feels your walls clamping down on his fingers; bringing his mouth up to your ear, ‘Imagine how good my cock would feel inside you..’ he pistons his fingers inside of you, curling them up- finding the spongy place inside of you that catapults you out of the heavens and straight to hell. You convulse around his fingers strongly, whining when you feel your thighs sprayed with liquid, ‘Jesus christ sweetheart.’ He trails off, you try to open your eyes but slump down onto your desk- resting your back against the cool surface, you laugh into the heavy air when he mutters, ‘Should’ve got you to talk to me sooner..’

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ganondoodle · 4 months

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was watching another totk video and through that found out what the reward is for completing koltins quests, honestly im not really surprised but also baffled and it really just shows, once again, that totk kinda does exactly what you shouldnt do in a sequel imo.. double down on all the bad stuff of the previous title

at this point i have talked about various problems in detail but i just keep realizing over and over just how much of the wrong lesson they seemed to take from botw, they recycled almost everything from botw by changing some paint or some words, made a giant game even bigger and filled it with boring and tedious busy work that has mediocre to insulting rewards EVEN MORE than botw

game too big and empty? make it TWICE as big, change barely anything about the map of the previous title and the new added map(s) is ONE biom that almost everywhere looks the same and even emptier with little to do

too many krogs? MAKE IT MORE and double down on the literally shit reward bc its the SAME just with one more stack of shit

too many shrines with short puzzles? ADD EVEN MORE and make them even shorter and easier to complete, alot of them not even involving a puzzle and multiple being an utterly out of place tutorial that could have been explained to you in a single text box

rewards in the overworld being mostly either a krog or a shrine which gets repetetive with shrines being ALOT and krogs being wayyy too many? add even MORE shrines and EVEN MORE krogs, but now add over a hundred of caves to it that all get repetetive after just a few of them and you only do them for a shrine or a currency you have to collect to get one cool looking but pretty bad to use armor set and a piece of cloth for your parasail that you can only use one of at the tiem and to switch have to go back to a specific NPC, theres ghost lights to collect which only serve to yet again buy one armor set from a set of NPCs and ar meaningless afterwards, the light roots dont require you to do anything but walk to them and the reward for finding them all is a "you did it" sticker that doesnt even stick (its useless)

weapons break too quickly? well make the weapons you can find even worse to force you to fuse a material to it so its at all usable BUT IT STILL BREAKS and when it does it breaks not JUST the weapon but ALSO a material, materials that you will need for now EVEN MORE EXPENSIVE armor upgrades too, weapons cannot be rewards anymore either bc they will always have to be fused with something to make them stronger bc none is strong on its own- this also applies to THE MASTERSWORD, something ALSO complained about that it still 'breaks' even after empowering it through the DLC in botw, and now it cant even BE empowered (bc no DLC) unless you fuse soemthing to it (to. the. MASTERSWORD.) EVEN THO EMPOWERIGN THE MASTERSWORD IS THE ENTIRE POINT OF ZELDAS ULTIMATELY MEANING- AND CONSEQUENCELESS SACRIFICE !!

the dungeons were to samey and simple? make them look different but keep the core structure (activate terminals in completely seperate from each other "puzzles", fight boss) while also makign them be even more skippable (climable walls, the ceiling jump ability- something the titans DIDNT have) with incredibly easy bossfights that end with an embarassing copy and paste scene that hits you over the head with long known and obvious information over and over

people didnt like how the story was so detached from everything in the present? well, make the story and the present EVEN MORE detached from anything in the present, so far in fact that there is literally no connection to it aside from zelda who is the only connective thread and is also only treated as such (she is as personality lacking as sonia as soon as shes yoinked into the past) and the suddendly and out of nowhere intruduced architecture and history that wasnt a thing in botw but is treated like it was always there

people didnt like how far botw was detached from all other zelda games? ok totk is not only FURTHER detached from those it also completely detached itself from its on predecessor :)

people didnt like the memory system? ok make it WORSE then, its a linear story now that you can ruin by seeing even one out of order, they are super short and dont give you anymore context to anythign than the things you could figure out yourself or were already told really, instead of giving you views into a characters personality you get to view a basic plot summary of a story that is so flavorless and predictable i knew what would happen from the start yet acts like its being vague and cool that i felt like i was beign treated like a literal toddler

too few enemy types? well, we will reuse the old ones EVEN MORE thant before over twice the map and the new ones that are there are either utterlly irrelevant to change up the gameplay or largely feel like the old ones just with a paint job (constructs), the griocks looked cool at first but are just a more annyoing version of the lynels (who feel like an actual duel, akin to a proper boss)

even the things that were adressed, or attempted to, didnt fully work, like the bosses ARE more unique, but also still so incredibly easy and ALSO have multiple duplicats just sitting around in the underground despite them being supposedly the root of the problems of the regions (i like refighting bosses, but id rather have a character that lets me choose ok i wann fight this one again and teleporte me into a vision or sth- also the most fun fights arent even part of it (koga) )

the rain complaint got a new effect type to counteract it, which ... doesnt work well, you need specific materials to make potions with that effect which you also need to upgrade the only armor set wit hthat effect that ONLY works once you upgrade it (i think ... i dont know how high i got it but if even the full upgraded set doesnt negate the rain effect i will not be surprised either lol) also it adds just yet another effect type that spams your inventory and you dont really need .... or i might be the only one that saw no value at all in the "attack up when hot" new type of effects bc it felt so specific and situational while also having a way better option (just make it a standard attack up thing?) at least in my eyes-

... ill stop here .... this got longer again didnt it O-o

#ganondoodles talks #zelda #totk #ganondoodles rants #YET AGAIN #aaaaaaand i wasted all my evening #this was supposed to be a half joking short post #but i keep getting into ranting #hhhhhhhhhhrrrrrrraaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

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themotherofblood · 11 months

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Ruie my dear, can I get an imagine or oneshot fluff Daemon x poc Martell (or Essosi) fem! reader where they're married with kids and reader is pregnant again and for some reason Daem decides to give her a tiger as a gift, at first she's kind of confused and really surprised (like how/when/where and why of all possible gifts he chose a fucking tiger ) but the children are fascinated by the animal and in the end she ends up getting attached too. Just some good old fluff with some humor if possible please? (if that doesn't make sense, sorry is that I saw a picture of a tiger and a half of this idea and coincidentally saw that you reopened your requests, so… but feel free to ignore it and sorry for my English)

ahhh, I really wanted make a longer one but felt I should keep the fluff to the point so here’s a blurby fic

WC: 1.2k?

You had laid lounged out in the beach, your pink chiffon gown clinging to your skin in the warm summer breeze. A small white haired child sat a few feet away from you, six summers of age and the prettiest lady in all of the Known World. Her hair, the same as her father and her skin, the very olive tanned aura of your own. There was much serenity in the small family of comfort you had procured, a fiery husband who filled you to birth your firey daughter Alyssa. She sat making castles out of sand, far enough that the moat would fill with water but wouldn’t topple her creation.

“Madame, the prince had returned from Bravos,” an attendant tore you attention from your daughter, Daemon had been gone for near a week, away striking bargain or mostly threatening people with his dragon to get what he wanted. You acknowledged the servant before he took his leave, from your periphery out pours the vision of silver hair blowing against the winds as the thuds of his boots against the sand filled your ears

“Papa!” Alyssa shrieked, pulling herself up with wobbly legs and running over to Daemon. Ready to throw herself at him as he reached down to swing her body up to towards him. She giggled and shrieked some more, pressing kisses to his cheeks as she giggled at him tickling her. He smiled at where you were sat, curls in a neat braid and the curve of your swollen belly against your dress, he did that, the glow of motherhood adorning your skin so pretty, he did that.

He walked over with Alyssa in his arms to situate himself next to you, the girl once again ran of to finish her architectural masterpiece as Daemon leaned his head down to lay a peck at your belly before letting your lips, “have they been good?”

You nodded, “they simmered down a while ago, might have grown bored fighting within mama, huh?” you questioned at your belly.

“Papa look! M’ made a castle!” Alyssa said, waving her hands frantically to grab her father’s attention.

He complimented his girl, his lips curling wider. “I brought you something,” he whispered, his small finger tracing against your jaw as he kissed your lips once more before standing up. He reached down to pull you up before pulling Alyssa onto his lap as he led you inside the palace. Alyssa all through babbled about the shells she found and the baby crabs she saw. Daemon humming along, finding her stories to be valiant stories of knights, his perfect poppet with her legs hanging couldn’t help but spew every detail of her day to her father.

“What have you done?” you stopped at your tracks, the white feline that seemed of popped it’s head out a wicker basket.

“I’ve bought you a big cat,” Daemon said all nonchalant as Alyssa wiggled in his arms to be let down, “go on, help mama name it,” he told her.

“Daemon,” you hissed at him. “That is a bloody tiger,” you covered your daughter’s ear as you glared at him.

“Mind you, they are tigers,” he corrected as the other orange feline joined his brother and popped the basket over as they escaped.

“Daemon…” you sighed, feeling a nerve in your head pop as you looked the aquarium of snakes and the pit for the small alligator he had procured months before.

“Until my darling’s egg hatches, she gets whatever animal she wants,”

You hadn’t realized how serious Daemon had been about turning this palace into a humid jungle. “What does it even eat?”

“Boots apparently,” Daemon chuckled as one waddled over to him and began nibbling on the fine leather of his boot.

“We keep it?” Both Daemon and Alyssa began to give the eyes, this was a plot, being teamed up against with purple eyes pleading at you. “please mama,” she whispered, her little tongue poking out to pronounce her “l’s” as “w” this was extortion.

“Fine,” you sighed once more.

After supper that night you sat by the glowing hearth, in it laid the metal pot with Alyssa egg. You were willing to hatch with all your maternal rage, hatch you damn fire bird, “glare at it harder my love, it will bond to you instead Alyssa,” Daemon pulled you from your anger fuelled staring.

“I swear on my milk cakes Daemon, if those cats, lizards and snakes eat your precious daughter. I am not birthing you another,” you pouted as he slotted himself behind you, lifting your shift to lay his warm palm upon the babes moving within you.

“Hush, just shhh,” he hummed against your temple. “What animal do you want, I’ll get you one to be rid of this fuss,” he mused.

“I have you, isn’t that more than enough,” you chuckled, already picturing the scowl that settled behind you.

“Huh, I am a dragon, just as these beauties within,” he poked at your middle.

“I was thinking more of a cute white sheep,” you giggled once more.

“Oh? Sheep is it,” his brows shot up as he turned your body to lay under him as he held his weight up by his elbow next to you head. “Would a sheep make you swell so full, hmm.”

The piercing gaze of his eyes made you wriggle underneath him as you shook your head.

“Make your breasts-“ Daemon’s salacious deeds would have continued had you not heard a very faint crack, you both stared at the egg for moment before Daemon shook his head and resumed pressing kissed down your neck.

Another faint crack,

“Gods Daemon!” you whispered in shook as you furiously tapped his shoulder, the top of the egg cracked open. Both of you froze in your compromising position before Daemon shuffled of you and rushed for the door.

You wanted to peak inside, yet you knew to give the little things it’s time to realize what was happening. Daemon returned with a groggy Alyssa with her head buried in his shoulder. “Darling look,” he shook her, patting her back to wake her up just enough to see what she was to become.

The egg rattled as a wing popped out, one of red membranes and purple scales, then popped out it’s tiny head. Alyssa, though usually a loud child, silently watched as her new friend crawled away from the egg pot.

Alyssa lifted her baby finger, apprehensively hiding her face in Daemon’s chest as the baby dragon grazed her skin. She flinched away only to turn to you with the widest smile you had ever seen. “Name it,” you whispered.

“Dragon!” She excitedly whispered making Daemon and you chuckle. “Yes zaldrititos, but you cannot name a dragon, Dragon,” Alyssa’s smile downturned as she looked to her father. You could tell she was thinking hard, reaching within her small vocabulary to find a name.

“Crocus,” she looked to her father for approval, you shook your head. After all, something of yours influenced her as she named the dragon a flower from your hand grown gardens.

“Crocus,” he agreed.

Alyssa sat upon the rug with the baby dragon climbing in her shoulder as Daemon returned to sit next you, the scene unfolding in front of you, so intimate and sweet you hadn’t realized your eyes were wet until Daemon wiped at them.

“Daemon,” you sniffled, he hummed as a reply.

“You bring another animal into the house, you sleep on the floor,”

#daemon targaryen x reader #hotd daemon #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryen fluff #daemon targaryen x you #girl dad daemon #male wife daemon #daemon being a menace #white tigers #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon

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writing-for-life · 2 months

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More Sandman S2 Pics

Now, that’s an unholy amount of outdoor lighting, so we’re definitely talking a scene that needs a well-lit outside of a building.

Source

So let’s put it all together:

They only filmed for a few hours (between 2pm and 1am), which pretty much excludes major changes to the outside set-up, which brings us to:

We have snow. Tons of it, not just a tiny scattering

The architecture is Saracenic with onion domes

There’s a balcony that’s lit like a Christmas tree

Murphy wears his long coat he only wears in the Dreaming

The inside of the Royal Pavilion would in theory make for a very good banquet hall, BUT we are on a very, very tight schedule

If you’ve ever done any film acting, you know how painfully long even the shortest scenes are to set up and shoot. While I would love to think they did any of the banquet scenes (esp. the family dinner), I think that won’t have happened, simply because they were only there for less than 12 hours and seemed to have focused on the outside during a lot of that time. But you can certainly take a few inside shots and do the rest in a studio later.

The balcony is useable for both Season of Mists and Brief Lives. Again, the time question comes into play.

And why the snow? That hints very strongly at either The Hunt or A Game of You, although I think the latter makes less sense because of the seeming importance of the building (there is none in that scene in AGoY that remotely looks like it, plus Morpheus isn’t in that bit).

I am slightly confused at this point because there are so many options, so I’m thinking:

Outside for The Hunt because of the snow and the onion domes

Balcony potentially for either SoM or Brief Lives, although I’m leaning strongly towards the former at this stage (did anyone see Kirby or know where she is right now?)

If there’s any time left, they’re going to use the inside for some ambient shots for some banquet scene, but they’ll neither do the full family dinner nor any of the “key of hell” stuff because it would take far longer than a few hours to do all of the inside and outside shots. The schedule is simply too tight.

Also putting the link to the poll back in for the other shots and your vote, because we’re back on our guessing game bullshit and worse than ever 🤣:

So what does everyone think?

#the sandman #sandman #the sandman netflix #tom sturridge #the sandman season 2 #sandman season 2 #dream of the endless #Morpheus #a game of you #the hunt #season of mists #brief lives #sandman speculation

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munsonsreputation · 10 months

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I THINK THERE'S BEEN A GLITCH

CHAPTER ONE - WE WERE SUPPOSED TO BE JUST FRIENDS

series masterlist | chapter two ↣

steve harrington x fem!baker + artist

word count: [20.2K]

warnings: no use of y/n, lots of mentions of self deprecation, reader talking about an emotionally exhausting past bf, steve talking shit abt his parents, cursing, steve & reader crushing on each other so mutual pining, lots of sweetness and fluff <3

summary: you make friends with a girl named Robin who politely and hilariously mistakes some red paint on your jeans as blood. Who knew it would lead to you and her becoming friends and her inviting you to meet her other ones? The even bigger mystery is how her best friend, Steve, is starting to become someone you’re falling for.

Steve Harrington’s living room was packed. Not that it was particularly out of the ordinary since his place was the go-to spot for hangouts, but today it had been packed for a different reason and a new arrival. Though it seemed Robin was the only uneasy person even when she was the one who had begged for this to happen.

Trying to cope, she began fluffing up the couch pillows and straightening the books on the coffee table while she rambled.

“She’s cool. I mean, she paints, for one, like totally realistic paintings, but she also really loves baking!”

Mike rolled his eyes, puffing dramatically and deciding to take a flop down on the couch where she just tidied up, “She sounds like my grandma.”

“Piss off!” Robin hissed, smacking his knee as the rest of their friends watched on at the repartee.

Steve was the skeptical one about the whole situation, considering what could happen if Robin’s new friend wasn’t entirely who she was supposed to be. It’s not that he didn’t trust Robin’s whole intuition about people, but you seemed too good to be true. Almost like a fantasy because the person Robin described to all of them for the past few weeks was pure perfection.

Even everyone else was beginning to question if meeting at Steve’s house for the first time was a good idea, realizing that you could be a creep or a murderer, but they were just being a tad bit dramatic. Before he could think too much into it than he already was, the doorbell rang, catching everyone’s attention and eyes that darted towards the front door.

“I’ll get it!”

Robin clapped her hands excitedly, darting to the door and unlocking it with vigor before opening it wide enough so she and everyone else could get a good look at you.

You stood in the doorway with a big smile and your hands full. One balancing a bright yellow ceramic dish on your palm, and your other arm busy holding a covered frame between your body.

You wore a white skirt, decorated with itty bitty eyelets that resembled a daisy cutout and a white top with the same pattern to match. A brown shoulder bag draped across your chest and a pair of strappy sandals on your feet.

Only when you inched forward, meeting cheek to cheek with Robin, in an endearing hello, did they finally get a good glance at what you looked like.

Bright eyes, wispy lashes, and lids covered in the tiniest amount of sheer glitter. A glow from within on your cheeks and high points, like the sun and pretty pink petals were rushing to the surface of your skin. Dewy lips coated in gloss and flickers of sparkles that shined through your smile that you wore throughout the interaction.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” was the first thing that came out of your mouth and the first time they had heard your voice.

Robin shook her head, opening the door wider and prompting you in, “don’t be!”

You looked around in curiosity, taking in the architecture and feel of the home before being greeted with a few smiles and waves from the strangers around the living room.

You returned it, though it never really dared to leave your face to begin with. Softly speaking out a few, “hi’s” and “hello’s” to them before turning towards Robin and holding out a big frame towards her.

“Happy Birthday!” You declared gleefully as she stared at you confused.

The rest of her friends murmuring something about possibly forgetting her birthday, just as puzzled as her.

She stuttered, trying to recall if she might have told you the wrong date or something, “I-It’s not my birthday?”

Your cheek met your shoulder shrewdly, once again pushing the gift towards her, “I know! But I wanted an excuse to give you this.”

You juggled the canvas into your hands, trying your best not to drop the pie pan. Robin reached her hands out, taking the pie from you as you flashed her a thankful smile, pulling the cover off the canvas to present her with a small gift of gratitude.

“Tah-Dah!” You singsonged, turning the canvas towards her and watching the shock and amazement that covered her face before a wide smile appeared followed by the “oh’s” and “ah’s” of her friends that you completely forgot about.

Robin spun her arms to the left of her, hastily handing the pie to Steve who took it and placed it on the coffee table. The front entrance of his home, now the new crowded spot as everyone marveled at the artwork. He quickly joined in, not wanting to miss an ounce of it, finding an open spot between you and Robin.

He took it all in, eyes fixed on the print that was gushing with blossoms of her favorite colors: sage green, mauve, and pale yellow. But it wasn’t an ordinary painting—the petals were formed with dollops of the paint, and it probably took days to dry. It was rare, something that he and the others had never seen before.

His fingers brushed the paint petals, careful not to mess up your handwork,“This is incredible….”

Flickering his gaze to you, he flashed you a toothy smile, letting his hand pull back from the canvas and stick out towards you.

“I’m Steve, by the way.” He extended his arm, making a sweeping gesture to catch your attention.

Tearing your eyes away from Robin’s heartwarming reaction, your sights drifted to the hand, then to the owner of it, instantly captivated by his friendliness and allure. Your stare lingered a bit too long, lost in trying to memorize him, so you shook your head, internally cursing yourself for the trance you fell into.

“Oh, sorry! It’s nice to meet you!” Quickly you handed the entire piece to Robin, adverting your full attention to the new acquaintance whose house you just barged into.

You knew just from the looks of it that he was Steve Harrington, the guy that Robin had described to you as being her insanely attractive yet idiotic best friend.

His hair, like Robin had described, was unquestionably perfect, falling into place as if he didn’t even try. Robin let you in on a secret that he was infamously called “King Steve” throughout high school for being so good with the ladies—now you were sure you knew why.

He chuckled when you grabbed his hand firmly, shaking it with vigor like how a father would but without the cynical look on your face. Instead, you looked genuinely thrilled, twinkling eyes and a broad smile gracing your lips.

“Great to finally meet you. Robin’s been yapping all week about her new friend.”

You laughed quietly, finally letting go of his hand and reaching over to sling your arm across Robin’s shoulder. She leaned into you, nuzzling her head against yours with a content look on her radiant face.

“Well, she’s been raving about all of her friends, so I just knew I had to meet you all.”

Robin smirked, finally giving you a hug and murmuring a curt thank you for the generous gift and turning to all of her friends while keeping you close to her side.

“Everyone, this is my new friend. I met her last week and now we’re attached to the hip!” Robin announced, her voice carrying a mix of affection and playful teasing.

Steve feigned a gasp, holding a hand over his heart, “Replacing me already?”

“Oh shut up, dingus!” Robin reached forward, whacking him with her palm as he yelped and pretended to be offended.

A curly-headed boy sporting a baseball cap stepped forward, “Ignore those two, they’re literal children…I’m Dustin!”

You reached your hand out, shaking his before casually everyone began introducing themselves to you.

Part of you was trying to remember each name connected to a face, but it was also a tad bit overwhelming with so many of them. Making friends was never an easy task for you, but you liked your own solitude, so you didn’t mind. But that also didn’t mean you didn’t long to have friends who you could talk to or hang out with from time to time and share your life with.

So when Robin tapped you on the shoulder at the grocery store to inform you your period had arrived you were visibly horrified but relieved that she offered you her jacket as you two found the restroom. And in the bathroom you let out a ridiculous laugh, covering your mouth as she stared at you in the mirror’s reflection confused.

“Red paint! This is paint! I must have sat on it or something!”

You and Robin hit it off, talking for what seemed like hours inside that grocery store bathroom. The two of you had a habit of over sharing, but it helped you bond and grow closer. After exchanging numbers and spending afternoons on the phone talking and getting to know each other better , she invited you over to a hangout with her friends.

“You guys must have scared her or something.” Robin shook you a bit in her hold to grab you away from a little daydream.

You blinked, looking over at her, then back to her friends watching until you came through, “sorry! sorry! I zone out sometimes…I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. She does it all the time.” Steve pointed at Robin who stuck her tongue out at him.

Nancy, the brunette who you remembered as one of the kids’ older sister, stepped forward hooking her arm inside yours, “Okaaaay, here, why don’t you come sit?”

She wore a warm smile and guided you further into the living room. Her touch was gentle, and the gesture alone made you feel like she was happy to have you here, easing a bit of your anxiety. When she unhooked her arm from yours, you mouthed a “thank you,” and she shook it off, just smiling and patting the empty seat beside her.

You placed your purse down on your lap, while Robin sat on the other side of you. The rest of the friends finding their own area on the opposite couch or on the floor, making you feel less suffocated and more like an inviting circle.

“Robin tells us that you’re mega cool!” Dustin exclaims followed by a thwack on the head by the red head Max and her boyfriend Lucas who sports the bucket hat.

Timidly, you swung your head low, feeling a mix of bashfulness and gratitude for her words when you weren’t around. You glanced towards Robin, who beamed with pride because she genuinely thought you were the coolest person she had ever met—probably even on the planet.

“I don’t think I’m cool…like at all.” You admitted, rubbing a hand up and down your arm.

Robin rolled her eyes, shaking her head at her friends then looking back at you, “She’s too humble, I mean really, she is so super duper cool and I’m shocked she’d even consider being my friend.”

Jokingly, you nudged her, making her laugh, “Don’t sell yourself short, Robin—“

Before you could continue uplifting the spirts of self esteem, the boy with the unruly hair…Mick? Mike!

Mike cuts in, eyes zeroing in on your torso where you begin to follow.

“What’s that on your shirt?” He squinted, pointing at the recent stains on your top.

Peeping your eyes down and looking meticulously, the stain was barely noticeable unless someone was really looking—anyway, the white color was a bit off from the shade of your actual top, and there had been some sort of residue left.

Nancy realized it at first, seeing that the stain couldn’t be seen to the naked eye, unless her brother was being a disgusting little shithead. She swiftly grabbed the decorative pillow behind her, chucking it towards him.

“You’re such a pig, Mike!”

Everyone switched their attention from you, and instead pestered and teased Mike for being so “observant” with you here in a spaghetti strap top.

But you attempted to stifle your laughter, not wanting him to feel so embarrassed despite his sudden interjection. You were hoping he wasn’t being a stereotypical depraved teen who couldn’t focus when your shoulders were out.

Instead, you attempted to swipe at it with your fingertips, but alas it didn’t budge and stubbornly clung to the fabric, “ It’s just paint and apparently…” You tugged the portion closer to your nose, scrunching it up, “Sugar. Powdered sugar.”

The young boy almost looked impressed at your ability to articulate the specific ingredient despite the verbal onslaught he had just faced. “Sick.”

Robin clicked her tongue, jutting her chin out toward Steve who sat across from you in a recliner.

“Steve, give her something to change into,” she told him, prompting him to sit up, looking at you and instantly nodding.

“Yeah, of course, follow me,” He motioned you to follow his lead as he stood up, yet you remained sitting, tipping your head slightly up at him.

You raised one of your brows, “Are you sure? I’m totally ok with it. It’s my fault, anyway.”

“I’m sure…c’mon, it’s the least I could do.” Steve nodded again, waving his arm towards himself, and you got up.

Trailing behind Steve up the stairs, you marveled at the simplicity of the home despite its expanse. The wallpaper was a muted gray with cream accents and walls encasing the space leading up were decorated with a few framed photographs that you assumed were Steve and his family.

From what Robin had told you, his parents weren’t home too often, if at all, which explained why the photos were outdated and mostly from his childhood, having no evidence of recent portraits.

The hallway towards the bedrooms had a running rug across the wooden floors. The fuzzy textile felt worn yet homey against your feet. Steve’s bedroom was located at the end of the hall, and when he opened up the door, you seemed to feel more of his personality shining in that space.

“Ignore the mess.” He apologized, twisting open the door to let you in first.

In contrast to the living room and main quarters of the house, his room felt more like himself.

The wallpaper in his room, plaid with white, green, and black accents and, of course, matching curtains. His bed was somewhat neatly made with the pillows fluffed and gray sheets on the mattress. A few drawers to hold what you assumed were part of his closet and other belongings.

But his desk, which looked to be the most messy yet contained spot of his room, littered with tapes, books, and other papers. The only thing hanging on his wall was a photo of a vintage car that you couldn’t name for the life of you.

You turned your head to look at him, where he stood, watching you taking in the space with a grin,“You’re actually really neat…neater than I am.”

Steve let out a grunt, chuckling to himself as he turned to his accordion wardrobe doors and opened them in search of finding you something without a stain. It didn’t help that he had forgotten to do a fresh load of laundry, but that the rest of his clean shirts were polos and hoodies.

“So are you from Hawkins?” He wondered, sifting through the hangers.

“No, I’m from Roane, actually! I only really come to Hawkins for the art store but last weekend I decided to run my errands here since I was already in town and that’s how I met Robin.”

You explained, your fingers absentmindedly rubbing the fabric of your shirt between the stain still trying to get it out.

Steve plucked a hoodie from the rack, holding it up in front of you, trying to decipher its comfort. The fabric was way too thick, and he was certain that in this Hawkins weather you’d be drowning in not only a puddle of fleece but sweat too.

Shaking his head, he gave you an apologetic glance that you didn’t seem to catch.

“You live alone?” He planted the item back on the hanger and continued to look.

“Yeah, but I actually used to live with my boyfriend…or ex-boyfriend now,” You clarified, giving up on the stubborn stain and sighing, “we were together for a little while but he just decided things weren’t working out and so he left.”

He looked back briefly, eyebrows raised in curiosity, “How many years were you guys together…if you don’t mind me asking.”

You shook your head, reassuring him that it was alright, “Six years.”

The widening of his eyes made you giggle, but it wasn’t unexpected considering someone your age having a relationship that long wasn’t typically normal.

“Excuse me? Six years! I don’t even think I’ve had a single friend stay in my life for six years.”

“Seems like a lifetime, right?” You joked with a comical lift to your voice and he nodded like it was the obvious answer, which it was.

He knew that you both weren’t too far apart in age, both in your early twenties, but it was just shocking to hear that you were in a six year relationship at your age. The longest relationship he had was a year with Nancy Wheeler and even then that seemed like forever, but you must have really fallen deeply in love with your ex if you lasted that long.

“We kinda just grew out of each other. It’s kinda inevitable after dating all four years of high school then two years after that. We just realized that we wanted different things in life and by different, he wanted me to “finally start taking life seriously,” or whatever the fuck that meant.”

You rolled your eyes dramatically, making air quotes with your fingers.

So that explains it, he thought to himself.

“He wanted to move out of Indiana?” Steve questioned, turning his attention back to his closet.

You made a noise, unsure if that fully answered his question. But you moved up beside him, silently asking if it was okay to help him sift through the hangers. Nodding, he shifted over, giving you space to look through the untouched hangers.

You went back to his question, giving him an actual answer, that you hoped would sum up the story that was way too long to tell in whole.

“Not necessarily…but he just didn’t like the fact that art was not only my hobby, but my passion. He always wanted me to get a real job, you know, those boring ones where you sit at a desk all day and think about what you did so wrong in your past life to be doing paperwork for the rest of it.”

His eyes followed as your face contorted with revulsion as if that was one of the most heinous jobs in the world, but for someone like you who thrived off creative free rein, it truly was. Steve threw his head, laughing at your expression, finding it truly amusing because for someone like him, he also realized that even if he was a lost young adult, he’d much rather keep working at a VHS store than walk into work everyday wearing an uncomfortable suit and dozing off in meetings.

His amusement turned your scorned face upside down, abruptly reeling in the fact that he actually found what you said to be funny. And you hoped that he wasn’t being overdramatic just to make you feel better, but you were positive that it wasn’t because it was the type of laughter that had the skin by his eyes creased because of how hard he was laughing—even his arm slinging over his torso, like the laughter was so infectious that it hurt.

The sound of his hilarity, leaping off the walls of his room like music to your ears, wishing you possessed the ability to always make people laugh this freely, just to witness moments like this. Eventually, though, he settled down, snapping his fingers at you and pointing with a still carefree smile on his lips.

“That was a good one! Now I’ve gotta use that when my dad keeps bugging me about getting a real job.” He praised, finally turning back the original spot in his closet and plucking it off the rod.

It was a bright yellow long sleeve, the fabric not too thick or thin, but just about right. You reached for the sleeve of it, feeling the material between your fingers, and Steve’s eyes waited for your approval.

“Feels nice.” You said with a nod, dropping it from your fingertips and letting him slide the garment off the plastic hanger before placing it in your hands.

He glanced back at the bedroom door, then back to you, “I’ll wait outside the door so you can change.” He offered, letting himself out and closing it behind him.

Inside the room, Steve could hear the soft rustling as you moved, wondering if what he gave you was good enough or if you were being too nice and not wanting to offend him by saying the yellow color was awful. Meanwhile, you placed your top on the lid of his hamper, making a mental note to come back here and retrieve it before you headed back home.

His voice came through on the other side of the door, breaking the brief silence.

“Sooo…your ex-boyfriend. I’m sure he was a computer science major, right? Totally douchey with a superiority complex?”

You snorted, pulling the garment over your body and slipping your arms through the sleeves. “You think computer science is douchey?”

He leaned up against the door frame, humming a reply and then finding the words.

“Yeah, totally, I mean nothing screams douchey than a guy who thinks he’s better than someone because he works with computers and not a paintbrush.”

Your movements slowed as you pulled your hair free from the collar and fitted the excess material underneath itself so it wasn’t drowning over you.

There was suddenly that fond pleasant feeling brewing in the pit of your stomach and in the cage of your chest. When Robin had mentioned that Steve was charming, she wasn’t kidding. There was no reason he should have this much of an effect on you so soon. Yet, here he was, effortlessly tearing down your ex-boyfriend and making you feel better about your own endeavors.

After a few seconds of taking a deep breath to collect yourself, you reached for the doorknob, turning it open to see his body supported by the one arm propped against the wooden frame. You bit your lip, watching his gaze fall down your face to his shirt on your body.

“Then I’d say you’re right…you guessed it,” Your arms flared out before coming down to your sides, standing there not knowing what else to say considering he had hit the nail head-on.

For the first time in the last fifteen minutes since he met you, this was the only time you seemed so sheepish. Out in the living room you looked so confident, even when it was obvious that the attention towards you was a little overwhelming, you still could change the subject or revert it somewhere else. Here with your eyes glued to your feet, not meeting him, he felt like you were trapped — that he might have said something that hit a little too close to home and made you uncomfortable.

His eyes softened, clearly full of regret for being so upfront about a situation he only knew surface level stuff about. Just because you had talked to him a little about the horrible stuff your ex said, didn’t mean he understood the whole story. That there clearly was something deeper, possibly trauma that he didn’t know about and here you were forced to endure the awkward silence and flooding memories of what had happened all because he couldn’t shut up.

Your view of your feet against the wooden floor was suddenly interrupted by Steve’s hands reaching forward, accompanied by his voice.

“I—I’m sorry, for bringing it up…I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or anything! I-It’s just, he sounds like a total dick and you should know that what he told you isn’t true—“

He spoke rapidly, stumbling over his words and making short pauses, making sense because the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uneasy.

You furrowed your brows, snapping your eyes up to his.

“No, no! You’re fine, it’s just that, no one has really said that stuff about him…about him being an asshole. And…I don’t know, it kinda feels nice to hear.”

Underneath your reassuring expression, your lips twitched up and Steve swore you were about to burst into a full on prideful smirk because of the jabs he took at your ex. So his words indeed took you aback, but in a good way.

He validated your feelings about your past relationship and suddenly there was a shift in the mood, and Steve closed his eyes, taking a relieved breath, grateful that he hadn’t scared you away with that conversation.

Meanwhile, you laughed softly to yourself, feeling a rush of giggles bubble up in your chest, seeing him relax under your certainty.

He opened his eyes, looking at you, trying to look stone-faced, “But, seriously, he’s sounds like a huge asshole,” He couldn’t help the cackle that escaped through his lips, breaking his solemn face, followed by you pushing a hand out and pressing his shoulder gingerly.

“The hugest! I’m being so serious!” You added, only making the two of you laugh harder, not caring to contain it in the small space between the bedroom and the hallway.

A simple moment in time was all you needed to know that Steve was genuinely a good guy, not just a pretty face with an idiotic mind attached to him. As the laughter died down, Steve stepped back, holding his hand out and gesturing you into the hallway with him and back down the stairs where you two were met with the noise of your friends chatting in the living room.

Robin slapped a hand over her forehead once the two of you came into view, earning a raised eyebrow from you and Steve, both of whom stopped a few feet into the area. She exaggeratedly dropped her hand to her side, feigning exasperation.

“What’s the matter?” You crossed your arms across your chest, looking genuinely troubled and waiting for an explanation.

All eyes turned to you and Steve now, grunts and smothered laughs coming from everyone, while you guys both stood there, oblivious to their reactions. Dustin, unable to contain himself, started convulsing with laughter and clutching his stomach, even going as far as to throw himself into Mike’s lap before getting shoved off.

Then he stood up in front of both of you, pointing an accusing finger at Steve’s shirt he lent you.

“What did you do to make him hate you so much that he gave you that horrid shirt?”

His face twisted in disgust, and he mockingly gagged, sticking out his tongue and dramatically turning away. Steve should’ve seen this one coming. He swatted Dustin’s hand away from you, shaking his head with a playful scowl. Then placed his hands on his hips, adopting a father-like pose, something else they also teased him for.

He had worn the long sleeve a couple of times before, and each time he did, everyone poked fun at him. Commenting on the revolting color, comparing it to poop or vomit instead of the ground seed condiment he claimed it paralleled, according to the saleswomen at Macy’s who convinced him enough to buy it. And now that’s why he stopped wearing it, growing tired of the kids, but especially Robin and Eddie, calling him ‘Baby Poop Harrington’ in the middle of Star Court and Family Video.

“You guys just don’t get fashion,” Steve argued, raising his eyebrows and forehead toward the others in an unconvincing manner. He fanned his arm, gesturing at you.

“It’s mustard, and it clearly looks good on her.”

The compliment was sudden, causing your eyes to enlarge somewhat and cheeks to blush. You hoped that no one caught it, being too busy to notice you looking downward at the shirt pretending to examine it in order to play it off when in fact you were rubbing your lips together to stop the smile from rising with your cheeks.

The banter continued to go on, which made you relieved, as you were able to get some composure and flicker your sights back up to everyone else arguing with Steve. Eddie huffed out a laugh, stretching his arms behind his head where he lounged on the opposite couch. He pointedly stared at you and the outfit, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“Nobody said it doesn’t look good on her. We just said the color isn’t very pretty.”

Nancy tilted her head, observing you and the shirt closely. Her eyes widened in realization, and she nodded in agreement.

“Actually, it does look really good on you. Maybe the styling was the issue.” She glanced at Steve with a grimace before waving it off and marveling at the color.

Steve raised his voice, as if trying to convince them through sheer volume. “I wore it with blue sweatpants!”

“Exactly!” the group chorused, their voices overlapping in mock protest.

You couldn’t help but snort out a short laugh, finding the entire situation amusing. You exchanged glances with Steve, realizing that this was obviously a very passionate but lighthearted topic within the friend group, kinda like their own inside joke.

Steve ignored the rest of the laughter and teasing, falling back into his comfortable recliner as you sat yourself back in between Nancy and Robin.

Lucas, the one seated next to the redhead who was his girlfriend, tapped his fist on the coffee table. “Can we cut into the pie? It smells delicious, and it’s been calling my name for the past thirty minutes.”

You nodded excitedly, rubbing your hands together, “Sure, it’s cherry by the way, so hopefully you all like that!” Your hands fell into your lap, looking over at Steve.

“I just need a knife to cut into it and some plates and forks.”

Steve rose up, giving you a nod, “I’ll go get it,” he said before walking through the archway into what you assumed was the kitchen.

The kids had gathered around the coffee table, smelling the air to get a whiff of the baked good you had spent the whole morning baking, and even Eddie got up from his relaxed state to push the kids aside and get a smell.

You felt a little bad seeing as though Steve had already gone out of his way to open up his home to you and then lend you clothing after a mishap that was entirely your fault, yet you were still sitting here, not helping.

You looked over at Robin, patting her knee smoothly, “I’ll go help Steve.”

Before you could stand up, she grasped onto your wrist, waving the other in the air, signing off that he could handle it alone, “He’s fine, don’t worry about it,”

But of course you insisted with a reassuring laugh, feeling her touch drop your hand, as you got up. “No, it’s fine, I really should!”

Before she could protest or take your spot, you were already striding away, following into the archway that Steve had just gone through. His back was facing you, arms reaching into the cupboard to grab a stack of plates that clinked together.

“Let me help,” you announced your presence with eagerness, walking up beside him.

He looked over at you, relaxing his arms back down,“Hey, no, you're not supposed to be helping!”

Your fingers tugged the bottom of his borrowed long sleeve, the fabric dancing between your fingers as you shot him a mischievous smirk, “Oh, c’mon, it’s the least I could do.”

He smiled at your mocking tone having no choice but to give in, “Fine, but just this once,” pretending to let out an exasperated sigh like you were a nuance, when in fact you weren’t.

He nodded his chin to the set of drawers where the utensils were prompting you to grab the needed amount of forks while he gathered the remainder of the plates.

“Does it ever get lonely living alone?” He asked, voice carrying a hint of interest, while shutting the cupboard and walking to the other side of the kitchen to retrieve a knife.

“Hmmm,” You thought for a second, shrugging as you bumped your hip into the drawer, shutting it gently.

“Sometimes, but I’ve grown pretty used to it. There’s some positives like not feeling so bad when you forget to start the dishwasher.”

He chuckled, grunting an agreement for the simple joys that living along could bring, but he also wondered about the negatives, “And the cons?”

Your heart skipped a beat already knowing the answer right off the top of your head because it was something that ate away at your heart every day. Leaving and coming home to the same space, roaming the halls and rooms—all of yours but only yours, the kind that was lonely.

“Not having someone you can go home to, or at least looking forward to coming to.” You confessed with a frown.

Steve sympathized, knowing that feeling all too well considering the home life he had been living since he was a teenager. Left alone with no parents around to really parent him in the first place, there was a fine line between being a teen and also being the adult to make the house a home.

He’d try to, even when his parents were away on trips, doing a load of dishes and laundry. Cleaning out the overgrown weeds in the yard. Vacuuming and mopping the floors. All of this in hopes that when his parents did come home and see how it had been maintained, that maybe they’d want to stay home and spend time with their son.

But alas, that meant nothing to them. If anything, it proved his parents’ thoughts that Steve was more than capable of being home all by himself. Making the home even emptier that it already was knowing that his parents would purposefully be gone longer now.

“Y’know, it’s nice having this house all to myself, but it gets lonely too. My uh—my parents aren’t really home much, my mom follows my dad on all his work trips…kinda making sure he doesn’t cheat on her or something.”

He let out a dry laugh while you cringed, expecting that it is in fact a joke, but he continues letting you know it isn’t.

“Anyway, ummm, it’s nice and all being able to throw parties and invite people whenever, but sometimes I just wished there was more here.”

Looking around the room, he gestured all around and exhaled, “Like family dinners where we actually talk or even just coming home from work and seeing my parents watching tv on the couch. I swear, I haven’t seen them sit in the living room or turn on the tv since I was like twelve.”

Placing the forks on the stack of plates, you turned apologetically to him, resting a comforting hand on his arm, seeing the way his face fell and his voice wavered on the edge between resentment and misery.

“I’m so sorry, Steve.” You withdrew, apologizing, though none of this was your fault.

Steve cleared his throat with a hoarse cough, swinging his head. Placing the knife down on the plates, as he ran his hand down his face, “No, don’t apologize, it’s stupid. I should be grateful they left me with a house to myself, right?”

He let out a laugh, as if that was going to make you feel any better for the way that he was feeling. Robin only mentioned little about the absence of Steve’s parents, and you knew it wasn’t any of your business, but it made you feel for him. For how lonesome it must be for him to be estranged from the people who gave him life, yet left him under their roof and pretended like he didn’t exist.

You, however, made the choice to live alone. After you graduated high school, you hightailed it out of your parents’ house and got a lease to your now apartment all by yourself. It wasn’t until a few months later that your then boyfriend moved in, but still after the breakup you got to keep the place all to yourself, which was valuable in a lot of ways.

But it was also sad.

You didn’t have many friends that you kept in touch with from high school. If anything, they weren’t really the nicest nor supportive types of friends that you wanted to keep anyways. They agreed with your ex that you had to start taking life seriously and cease pursuing art, but you never listened to them. So maybe it was better off to live alone in your own seclusion rather than just keeping them around for company.

In spite of those not so kind friends of that past, things felt a lot different with the group that you met today. Like you could let your walls down and finally open up the door.

Your finger twiddled against one another, letting out a proposition, “M-Maybe you can come to my place and hangout? All of you…I mean!”

You were crossing your fingers that he didn’t catch the slip up that made it sound like you only wanted him to come over.

His hands stop at his jaw, fanning over the skin there, before turning slightly towards you with a surprised look on his face.

“Really?”

You nodded eagerly, “I haven’t had guests around for a while and I would really love for you—you guys to come and visit.”

There was that slip again, but Steve was too engrossed to catch it.

“I would love—“

“Jesus Christ, what’s taking so long!?”

The holler coming from the living room burst that bubble between you and Steve, ultimately making you giggle when he groaned heavily, muttering an, “I’m so sorry about them,” to you while you shook your head and followed behind him while he grabbed the kitchenware.

“You guys were taking forever!” Mike wailed, making Steve roll his eyes as you gave a gentle laugh at his impatience.

“We were barely gone two minutes.” Steve replied, placing the plates down on the table while you carefully grabbed the knife.

“It’s my fault. I was talking to Steve about having you guys over sometime.” You said, looking up at the boy before making the first cut into the pie.

Robin gasped behind you, clapping her hands ecstatically, “Oh my gosh, please! Steve and I are off on Thursday!”

She turned towards Steve, looking at him dubiously. “We’re off on Thursday, right?”

“Yeah,” He snickered, nodding his head as he slid you a plate to lay the first slice on.

Steve picked up the plate, giving it to El just to spite the impatient Mike who sat beside her and groaned until you finished cutting the next slice which was given to Lucas. So you continued to cut as Steve served everyone.

“Jonathan and I have a half day on Thursday, so we should be able to swing by during the afternoon.” Nancy spoke before digging into her slice.

The last two slices remained as everyone dug into their portion while you plated it up. Passing Steve a plate, “You first.” You said quietly with a smile.

He grinned, thanking you with a nod before taking a seat on the recliner. You got yourself the last plate, scooting back towards your original seat.

“Where do you guys work?” You looked towards Nance and Jonathan.

He swallowed his piece before speaking. “Hawkins Post. I work on photography and she writes.” his fork pointed to her before she nodded and continued.

“Technically, we’re still interning, but we’re hoping to secure a permanent job once our internship is up.” She told you as you nodded your head.

“That’s cool! Roane has a weekly paper, but it’s usually just filled with the same political crap about our Mayor trying to drive out local businesses and replace them with big chain stores.” You said wistfully, shaking your head.

She chewed faster, murmuring out a reply before she was able to respond with actual words.

“Our Mayor, Mayor Kline, is actually doing the same thing! Jonathan and I have been begging to do a story about it to help save the mom-and-pop businesses, but our boss Tom,” she exhaled heavily, shaking her head with annoyance, “he agrees with the Mayor and totally shuts us down every time.”

You pouted, placing down your untouched plate, and placing a warm hand on her shoulders, “God, I bet you they’re such assholes…I wish I could help, but seriously, if at any point you guys do figure out a way to make it happen, I’ll be happy to help any way I can.”

Your voice was somehow sweeter than the pie that Steve was scarfing down as he watched and listened on. Everyone was too busy in their own conversations to care about the one you and Nancy were having, but not him, though he was more so focused on you. He just hoped he didn’t look like a sloppy toddler that was too distracted to realize food was all over his mouth.

Steve was just so enamored by your grace and everything that was new to him.

He noticed the way your eyes would trickle over with all of these different sentiments while Nance confided in you about the struggles at Hawkins Post. But he assumed this was just how you usually were, a part of you, so invest in people and wanting them to know that they could talk to you and you would do your bestest to give your deepest empathy.

Only one thing he couldn’t understand was how anyone, let alone your ex-boyfriend, let go of someone who was as pure and generous as you. Steve Harrington was sure, even after only meeting you today, that you were the sweetest person he had ever had the honor of encountering. That if he really knew you were too good to be true like this, he would’ve begged Robin to invite you sooner.

“Can I have your slice if you’re not going to eat it?” Dustin’s voice broke in, his plate already finished with only crumbs left behind.

Tearing your gaze away from Nancy and switching to the boy who looked on at your untouched plate on the table. You grinned, leaning forward to push the plate closer to him, “Go crazy, I’m not hungry, anyway.”

So not only were you kind, you were also patient—Steve was making a mental list without even realizing it and knowing what for.

Here you were giving up your slice for the little teenage twerp that just insulted the top you were borrowing only a few minutes ago. If Steve were in your shoes, he’d tell the little shit to think about making fun of mustard again before thinking he’d give up a slice of his pie for him, but then again, you weren’t Steve and you definitely weren’t an asshole.

“Dude, let her have her slice!” Eddie chastised with a mouth full of cherries and pie pastry.

Max flicked him on the head with a grunt. “Yeah Dusty, no wonder Suzie broke up with you.”

Dustin glared, pulling your plate to him, “Oh shut up, I told you me and Suzie are perfectly fine and still together!” he hissed, not hesitating to take a bite of his pie.

You shifted yourself to face forward, eyes on the kids who were thoroughly not convinced about Dustin’s so-called girlfriend.

“Suzie?” You spoke curiously, “Does she live in Hawkins?”

They all shook their heads, and Dustin spoke with a full mouth, but still you could hear him clearly. “She lives in Utah! Her family is crazy Mormon though, so I can only call during certain hours to speak to her through my Cerebro.”

Your eyes widened, “Cerebro? Like from X-Men?”

“You know X-Men?” the kids all shouted.

You laughed, nodding your head undoubtedly. “I only have a few, but X-Men #7 is one of my favorites.”

“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding when you said she was mega cool.” Dustin’s eyes darted to Robin’s, which made you laugh.

“So tell me more about Cerebro.”

Honestly, it was hard for any of the kids to find other people who understood or got them the way that their older siblings and friends did. It’s mainly the reason why their friend group was so small and tight-knit in the first place and they’d be lying to say they weren’t the first to oppose the idea of bringing in a new person to the group.

But you seemed genuinely engrossed in the kids’ lives, not just instinctively nodding your head and humming so that they could feel like you cared, but you really did. Asking questions about Dustin’s summer camp where he and Suzie met and finding it quite adorable that he would go out of his way to build something to speak to a girl on the other side of the country.

Halfway through your conversation with the kids, Steve got up, heading towards the kitchen in hopes of finding you something to eat, seeing as though Dustin took hostage of your food. It didn’t help that he absolutely sucked at cooking and had nothing in his fridge to offer you other than a coke which definitely wouldn’t make up for your pie loss.

With his back turned to the fridge, he could feel a presence behind him, trying to be quiet, yet failing, and he knew it was you, or at least thought it was because of the earlier instance.

“I thought I told you that you were a guest and you should be enjoying yourself in the—what the fuck Robs!”

She cackled, hunched over laughing to herself once Steve finally turned around and noticed it was, in fact, not you but her.

“Jesus, what’s the matter with you? Sneaking up on me like that!” He crossed his arms over his chest at Robin who was trying to settle down.

“You’re so gullible! Like I wasn’t even trying! I was just trying to see what you were up to and you thought that I was her!” She laughed maniacally, failing to contain herself.

“Yeah, I came in here to try to find something she can eat, seeing as though Dustin lacks consideration and didn’t think to ask if she ate anything before coming here.” He sighed, turning around and opening back up the fridge, like something would magically appear before his eyes.

Robin calmed down, nudging him away from the refrigerator so that she could get a look. Her fingers instantly pulled open one of the drawers where the fresh fruit that were barely touched were.

“This will do.” She grabbed an apple and orange, passing it off to Steve.

He raised his brows, “Don’t you think she wants something else?”

She shook her head. “Nope, she loves fresh fruit! Told me how much she loves them in her salads and how she picks up fresh ones from the market to make sweets and drinks with them.”

“Fine. Just go back in there and I’ll cut these up.”

She held her hands up in defense, slightly mocking in a higher pitched voice as she walked backwards, “Oh okay, Chef Harrington, thank you so much for your service to our pretty guest.”

He closed his eyes shut, shaking his head as he heard a snicker come from Robin before she fully exited and gave him the kitchen all to himself where he cut and peeled the fruit, neatly placing them on a plate for you. Steve wished you would have snuck in just to get another chance to talk to you alone because he wasn’t quite sure if he could hold a conversation with you when everyone was around.

You didn’t intimidate him per se, but he liked speaking to you one-on-one when there were no idiotic teens around to make him feel weird for asking such silly questions. But you didn’t sneak in, still holding the conversation with the teens as he walked out and placed the plate on the coffee table in front of you.

“Here you go,” Steve announced softly, not wanting to break the conversation.

You looked up at him, seeing the plated fruit slices he had arranged in a circle, “Oh, you didn’t have to! But thank you!”

“No problem.” He grinned, heading back to his seat.

“So what about you?” You turned your gaze towards El, the quiet one of the bunch who sat and listened for the most part. “What do you like to do?”

“Poetry.” She said faintly, making you smile as you popped an apple slice in your mouth.

“I used to do a lot of poetry too when I was your age.” You told her, and she looked at you curiously.

“I have a ton of journals from when I was in high school, but ultimately I think my calling has always been art.” You smiled at her, seeing the way she lit up at that.

“What did you write about?”

“Typical teenage stuff. Growing up. Strict parents. Bullies. Boys.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Max cut in.

You took a deep breath, unsure of how to bring this up, “Umm, well, I uh, y-yeah—well, no yeah! I meant no! I don’t have one! But I used to, but we broke up.”

“How long were you together?” Mike asked.

“Stop being invasive, Michael!” Nancy quietly scolded, earning a glare from Mike who paid her no mind and went back to you waiting for an answer.

“Umm, you know, a really long time, but it was so long ago that—“

“Estimate?” Lucas countered.

You swallowed anxiously, not really wanting to talk about this, but feeling you had to answer before it got awkward, “Like six—“

“Jesus, you twerps are nosey. Just let her and El talk about poetry.” Steve surged into the conversation, getting up to retrieve an orange slice from the plate as he ruffled the hair on the teen’s head walking back to his seat in order to play it off.

You took a deep breath through your light-hearted smile, eyes dancing towards him to shoot him a grateful glance for his quick thinking.

The last thing you wanted to talk to the teens about was your tumultuous relationship that came to a world crumbling end. Plus, the teens were in their own relationships. You didn’t want to jeopardize their ideas of their own relationships because of your past one. They were smart and kind, and didn’t need to hear about your ex to know that about themselves.

Steve didn’t quite know what else your ex did to make you freeze up like this in front of everyone, but he wasn’t going to let it happen. It was his fault anyway for bringing it up in the first place and he had to make up for that, to let you know that he had your back, even when it came to his own friends who were just as innocently curious as him.

He got the chance to peel back a layer of your history in private, something that he knew was a privilege to learn about, but he wouldn’t let you be put on the spot like this when you weren’t ready.

There was an ease to the room once Steve made it clear that your love life wasn’t up for discussion right now. Everyone just seemed to forget it was even brought up in the first place. El smoothly shifted topics back to poetry and took the moment to ask you if you still wrote from time to time, which you happily gave her the answer to.

Thankfully, poetry wasn’t the only topic of discussion.

Eddie had told you about his band Corroded Coffin that played every Tuesday and Sunday at the Hideout Bar where he also worked. The kids had been begging to go to a show in order to see him and his friends live, but since the bar had a very obvious and strict age limit, they’d just have to wait until they were 21.

Robin finally told you about her and Steve’s creepy manager Keith who had been smuggling R rated tapes from Family Video, which they then used against him in order to get days off whenever they wanted. Things only got funnier when Steve revealed that Keith had accidentally forgotten to switch the tapes back to the original casing, which led to a very angry mother coming in and demanding to speak to the manager when her son had brought home “Star Whores: Attack of the Silicone.”

At some point, you found yourself excessively laughing with Nancy and Robin while Jonathan reenacted his father, Hopper’s reaction to a stash of weed that he had bought off of Eddie. Hopper actually sounded pretty cool considering he was police chief and didn’t make the boy flush it down the toilet. Instead, just asking for a bit because he wanted to try to make weed brownies.

You definitely needed to meet him one day and hopefully ask him how the baking process was.

Lucas, on the other hand, had vented about the captain of the basketball team, Jason, who was a total asshole and didn’t know how to shoot a three pointer to save his life. Max suggested that one of them attack him from behind and break his leg so that Lucas could be the star player for the season.

But somehow Mike had an even more vicious plan, to poison him and take him out for good—but of course he looked at you, with cautious hands held out, “We’re just kidding by the way!”

To say that you enjoyed yourself this afternoon would be an understatement because, for the first time in forever, it felt as though your social battery wasn’t draining. You would want to spend the rest of the day here in Steve’s living room listening to them talk about their lives and ask you about your mundane one.

But time always went by fast when you were spending it with people who were so fun and carefree, so when you caught the hour on Steve’s clock, you knew you had to get going.

Everyone gave you a hug, thanking you for stopping by and of course bringing the pie, the same one that they were begging you to bring the next time you would come into Hawkins. And you sure did promise you would. Robin, being the sweet friend she was, attempted to convince you to stay a little while longer, but you knew you had to go, and you’d make it up to her another time—hopefully a girls’ night in the coming weeks.

Steve was the only one missing from the living room having excused himself to the kitchen a little while earlier to get the dirty dishes done. He even warned everyone to make sure you stayed in your seat and didn’t come in to help him clean up, knowing you would sneak up and try to offer it. After releasing a very tight and giggly hug from Robin, you stood up, making your way to the kitchen.

“Steve?” You knocked your fist against the archway, catching his attention as he turned to look over his shoulder.

“Hey, need something?” He asked, quickly shutting off the faucet and drying his hands on the kitchen towel hanging near the sink.

You shook your head, gesturing down to your purse slung over your shoulder, “I’m actually heading out now. Gotta get home before rush hour.”

He stooped dramatically, making you laugh as you offered your most sarcastic yet sincerest apologies for the departure of your presence.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you out.” He gestured, leading the way while you waved goodbye to everyone in the living room before following Steve out the front door.

“Thanks again for letting me come over.” You chirped, with your shoulders coming in shyly.

He waved it off, smiling down at you, “It’s no problem, it was really nice meeting you…I can’t wait to come over to your place.”

“I’m looking forward to it too…I just don’t know if I’ll be half the host that you were.”

“Don’t, you’re gonna be fine. Drive safe alright?”

You brushed your hair back behind your ear, nodding as you smiled once more, “I will, see you around Steve.”

Your arms didn’t hesitate to wrap around his neck, hugging him ardently. Even if you were wearing his clothes, smothered in the scent of his detergent and him, his senses were filled with you.

A bright vanilla aroma coming from you, and with your hair blowing in his face, he could help but drown in it, hoping this wouldn’t be the last time he’d get to hug you like this.

But alas, he had to let go, his large hands giving your shoulders a warm one over before finally pulling away and seeing your smiley face.

He stood by the porch, watching as you got into your car, taking note of every little detail of your movements.

Placing your purse in the passengers and checking the contents making sure you didn’t leave anything behind buckling in. You checked your mirrors while twirling the ends of your hair between your fingers, securing the locks against your back and the chair. After a few seconds, he could hear the gear change and watched as you twiddle your fingers upon the steering wheel, waving one last goodbye as you reversed out of his driveway.

“See ya…” He mouthed, with a tight smile, waving before you drove off.

The distance between Hawkins and Roane Country was almost an hour, which gave you a lot of time to think about today and especially wonder about Steve Harrington.

Honest to God, every time you’d catch him in your peripheral, beaming and nodding along at your conversations, you found yourself almost tumbling over your words. He was that distracting, in the best way possible.

There was something endearing about him, perhaps his ability to read your social cues or maybe the fact that he actually showed interest in you and whatever you were talking about. Even if he didn’t get it, you could tell he was listening intently, eyes following you wherever your hands and sights drifted, like a willow bending right to the wind.

You wished you had the guts to strike up a conversation with him in front of everyone else, but you were sure that if you did everyone would take note of how your shyness reached a whole other level with a pretty guy sitting in front of you. Steve was easy to talk to, but you didn’t know if you were easy to react when it came to anything he said.

His words. His smile. His laughter.

All of it trickled with a honey so sweet that it made your stomach ache and blood rush hot. A feeling that was so foreign after all of this time, yet you couldn’t help but want more. To get to talk to him, even if it was just him insulting your ex with low blows because he deserved it.

But his raw emotions. Him letting his guard down. His thoughtfulness.

It exuded the warmth of freshly ground cinnamon, something that had layers to it. Like a punch in the gut that surprised you in a way that was too profound to explain further. He didn’t even hesitate telling you about his parents and how troubling it felt to be given so much from them yet so little at the same time.

It felt like you were throwing a bunch of colors onto a canvas, not knowing where this was headed, maybe off a cliff or down a dead-end street. Or maybe back home with you where everything would be bliss. You could never really tell.

With Steve, it felt different, very complicated.

Perhaps you were getting too far ahead of yourself, after all, his actions weren’t too far fetched from the others who made you feel just as comfortable and made you laugh just as hard. Yet you didn’t feel this way towards Eddie or Robin and definitely not towards Nancy and Jonathan.

But feelings like these oftentimes just over complicated things, like this very moment right now where you shouldn’t be contemplating this in the first place.

It was too soon to ever know and you could bank on it being counterfeit. Something you’d look back on and laugh at because maybe it was better off with you and Steve being friends, just like everyone else. Nothing more, nothing less, just friends.

The afternoon glow cascaded your kitchen, a soft ochre hue bouncing off your window pane and showering your body in the warmth. Stevie Nicks’ voice sang through the space on your radio while you stirred the florals in the boiling water.

A few knocks echoed through your door, accompanied by various voices that grew louder. Looking over at the time on the microwave, it read “3:12p.m.” in bright neon green lights.

They were on time.

“Coming!” you shrieked out, cutting the music and lowering the heat on the stove before you walked over the door, undoing the latch and twisting the lock open.

With a wide grin, you stretched the door open, and their chatter subsided, turning their attention towards you, their eyes glittering with anticipation.

Your apartment wasn’t the biggest or the most lavish, but it was undeniably you. Just from the front door alone, your personality was oozing among the space—plants were displayed on a shelf near the door alongside a handmade pottery bowl for keys and small belongings that rested on a small table.

Straight ahead was your kitchen just as personalized as the entrance. The counters complimented with a delicate flower-patterned backsplash along with wooden cabinets you had stained to wash out the unpleasant color that came with the place originally.

It was so very much you.

“Come in! Come in!” You ushered them with animated welcoming arms.

The teens stepped through first, peering around as they traveled further into your home. Your living room another lively space with an olive green couch and swinging chair you splurged on and surprisingly hung all by yourself. And of course, unfinished and half-painted canvases decked the walls.

You met cheek to cheek with Robin and Nancy, the same fond welcome you had gotten accustomed to giving to your lady friends. Eddie and Jonathan took you in for a side hug, giving you a smile.

Steve was the last one to enter with a vase carrying a blend of lively flowers in one of his hands. He wore a striped polo, one of the many that you saw hanging in his closet, a pair of blue jeans, Nike’s Cortez’ that was totally his style, and of course his world famous smile.

“I’m so glad you made it.” You murmured, opening your arms as he walked into you and wrapped his arms snuggly across your back.

You squeeze your arms around him affectionately, inhaling the subtle aroma of mint and sandalwood that he wore. Something that you became familiar with since your last interaction where he walked you out to your car and said goodbye to you in the same way he was saying hello.

Of course, Steve had made it. There was no way he was going to miss it. Not after you graced his home with your presence. If anything, Steve was the one who rushed everyone into Eddie’s van to get here on time to see you.

He looked down at you, seeing your eyes flutter open as you both released the hug, yet never stepped back to open the proximity.

“Been looking forward to it all week,” he brought the hand holding the vase up, prompting them towards you with a grin, “…and these are for you.”

You let go, wrapping your fingertips around the glass, admiring the blues, pinks, whites, and greens of the arrangements. Summer flowers, the kind that bloom the entire season before spring comes along and cuts their time too short before winter arrives.

You had been busy for the past couple of weeks that you didn’t even realize that you had forgotten to take a trip to your local florist to pick up some of your favorites, nevertheless Steve’s would suffice.

Closing your eyes, you breathed in the citrusy sweet fragrance from the baby pink peonies in the bunch, then you opened them back up, orbs filled with gratitude as you stared at him.

“Steve, these are beautiful. Thank you!”

He shrugged his shoulders lightly, “Unfortunately, none of us are good bakers, so I’m glad you like it.”

Laughing, you gestured him towards the living room where everyone had already gotten themselves comfortable, while you made a quick pit stop towards the kitchen to place the flowers on the windowsill to get some sunshine.

Making your way back to everyone you saw Nancy and Jonathan sat on the couch looking worriedly at the teens, “Guys, don’t break anything!”

They both warned in unison, watching as the youngsters made a beeline to the comics and magazines you had lying around on the coffee table.

“No worries, I break something like every other day in here. Totally klutz!” You assured her with a wave, seeing her take a sigh of relief and Jonathan sending you a gracious nod.

“This place is cooler than you described!” Robin blurted, fidgeting her fingertips against each other as she continued to look around trying to spot some things that she remembered you telling her about over the phone.

Striding towards the cluttered coffee table, you noticed the kids not having much space to flip the books and magazines. You had spent the entire morning doing laundry and touching up a painting for your upcoming gallery that you had skipped cleaning the mess up before they had arrived.

You apologized, moving to pick up some paint bottles you had lying around “Sorry it’s a little messy…I was busy all morning,” placing them back in their designated bin underneath the table, while they waved you off, not bothered by the mess at all.

“Did you paint this today?” Will sought, setting down the comic and shuffling towards the easel where a semi-wet canvas laid.

You nodded, walking over and standing next to the piece, and holding your hands behind your back shyly.

“It’s supposed to look like the sunset from a few days ago.”

The sky filled with purple, orange, and yellow tinges to encapsulate the sundown you caught on the drive back to Roane from Hawkins.

“Did you use a photo as a reference?” Mike inquired, squinting his eyes to really take in the detail of the sky and hues used.

You shook your head, knocking your temple with your finger, “I have a really good photographic memory…once I see something I can usually replicate it when my brush hits the canvas.”

“How fascinating.” Will murmured, allowing himself to walk along the walls, looking at all your other paintings you had hanging up.

You clasped your hands together, a genuine sense of respite washing over you as you noticed everyone appearing at ease.

Robin was completely in her own world, fascinated with your overflowing vinyl collection that littered your tv stand.

Nancy and Jonathan were talking softly amongst themselves, smiling as they pointed and admired parts of your apartment, hoping they could have their own one day.

Eddie had taken a seat on the floor, back resting on the couch cushions as he flipped through a comic he picked up.

Steve looked to be just as comfortable, swinging slightly in the hanging chair admiring everyone else, happy that his friends were comfortable in the new space.

You clapped your hands together faintly, just enough for yourself to hear the celebration, “Just feel free to look around! I have a patio over there, but there’s nothing much out there except plants and a little table.”

They looked up to where your finger pointed at the sliding door on the other side of the living room, a cream meshed curtain pulled back to let in the natural sunlight.

Then, you turned your attention to Eddie, bending down a bit to tap his shoulder and point again at the terrace outside, “Eddie, I put out a small glass dish out there if you wanted to take a smoke, just in case.”

You noticed that he had excused himself to Steve’s backyard in order to take a smoke break, so you figured you get that set up for him just in case.

He flashed you a sincere smile, nodding “Thank you,”

You nodded, patting his shoulder before standing straight and excusing yourself to the kitchen to get things prepared.

Steve didn’t quite know if he was more so appreciating his friends finally opening up to a new place that wasn’t his own or seeing you being so welcoming to people you only met a few days ago. Nevertheless, it felt nice, a little warm feeling inside to know that you were so kind and open to them.

He also didn’t know if it made him a weirdo for wanting to stray wherever you went, getting up to follow you into the kitchen just to get a chance to talk to you without the lingering ears of his friends.

You stood there with one hand on your hip and the other stirring some mixture in the pot before turning off the heat completely.

“What’s this?” his soft voice whispered over your shoulder, producing you to bounce slightly before glancing back.

He had a small apologetic smile on his face, almost like a wince.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Steve said as you shook your head, lips curled into a grin when you turned back to stir the liquid.

“Lavender and mint.” You bubbled, drawing the saucepan off the stove and holding it out, just enough to get a sniff of the aroma.

His hand cupped together in the air, wafting the sweet steam towards him, “And it’s tea?”

“Yeah!…Or you could refrigerate it and make it into lemonade, though I should’ve done this hours ago so that I could…you don’t think it’s too hot for tea do you?”

Your forehead scrunched up in woe, setting the pot back down and reaching to slide the window in front of you open. Sticking your hand out, you flipped it back and forth, trying to feel the air and its warmth.

It was totally warm out, but Steve wouldn’t let you know that. He just shook his head, following your actions and sticking his hand out to feel the air, “No, it’s like the perfect weather…I could go for some tea.”

You looked toward him, giving him a sickly sweet smile as you turned to the opposite side of the kitchen, heading into one of the cupboards to grab mugs.

“Let me help you.” Steve offered, taking the ones from your hand with ease and placing them onto the counter.

He didn’t allow you to grab the other seven remaining mugs, as he did it himself, lining them up perfectly so it would be easier to pour and serve.

“Do you like milk in your tea?” You questioned, padding over to the fridge and seizing every bottle of milk you had.

He thought for a second, eyebrows scrunched together, trying to recall a memory, but he was sure that the last time he had milk and tea was when he attended one of his father's boring business conferences when he was a child.

“I’ve never tried it, is it any good?” Steve asked, leaning against the counter’s edge to watch you clutch the mason jars against your chest.

You smiled with a nod, fingers holding up one of the glass jars you had labeled, “almond” before placing them all right next to the mugs.

“You make your own milk?” He looked surprised, picking up the jar and inspecting the liquids that looked store-bought.

“It’s super easy and because it doesn’t take my time I just make a new glass every week.” You told him as you waltzed over to the boiler, picking up the pot before cautiously pouring a serving into each mug.

He watched you closely, noting how you bit your lip in concentration, making sure each mug got the same amount of tea, not wanting anyone to have less or too much than they wanted. You smiled to yourself, eventually letting go of your bottom lip when the last mug was filled perfectly, spinning around in your sock covered feet to place the remaining liquid back on the stove.

He did his best to hide his smile, endeared with your behavior for something as simple as pouring some tea. You rubbed your hands together, finally turning back to him and nodding your chin at the mugs.

“You should get the first taste!”

“You sure?” He asked, already reaching for the ridiculously adorable strawberry mug that you usually always drank out of.

You giggled, bowing your head as he finally took a sip. His lips smacked against each other to search the flavor profile in an attempt to impress you with the enhanced taste buds that he clearly didn’t possess, but somehow he was still able to make you laugh, which was enough.

“It’s sweet but still a little minty—what milk do you usually go for?” He sat his cup down, fingers brushing over the jars, looking over the different milks you had.

Oat. Almond. Cashew.

“Oat, it’s the most neutral out of all of them and doesn’t disturb the flavor, in my opinion.” You responded, letting your elbow rest onto the counter to place your chin in your palm.

You watched him crack open the jar, pouring a tiny bit into his cup before looking at you, silently asking if it was enough. The jutting of your chin and smile prompted him to pour a little more, just until you squeaked and you both laughed before he sealed the jar shut.

The two of you watched the milk flow over the once sheer lilac brew as if it was going to stir itself. Only remembering now, you gasped dramatically, moving up to pull open the drawers on the opposite side of the kitchen in order to grab a handful of spoons.

“Sorry, I totally forgot!” You apologized, handing one to Steve as he snickered, shaking his head while he stirred his drink.

“Don’t have to apologize. You’re too nice of a host already.” He encouraged you, taking another sip of the tea and giving you wide eyes when it rushed down his larynx.

“Holy shit…this is good!” He said surprisingly, as you smirked, moving towards him to make yourself a cup.

Your fingers grabbed onto the vintage basketball mug before pouring in your own splash of oat milk. “Oh! I forgot to mention, I like to add honey sometimes. Do you wanna try?”

You tiptoed, attempting to grab the bear shaped bottle of honey, and Steve had easily raised his arm up, clutching it for you.

“Thank you.” You whispered softly, taking it from him.

Steve was just happy to help, beaming warmly and watching you squeeze a tiny bit of honey into your cup and he happily did the same when you passed him the bottle.

You both took a sip at the same time, smiling tightly as you watched each other before swallowing. It was silly. So the two of you chuckled. Shaking your head at how silly it was.

“I didn’t mean to stare at you while you…sorry, that was weird of me.” You palmed your forehead dumbly, closing your eyes with a slight smile as Steve chuckled and hummed something that sounded like a “no” as he took another sip of the sweetness.

He shook his head, waving your worries away as he kept his hand on the handle of the mug when the other came down to rest on his hip, “I didn’t mean to stare either…I just didn’t want to look away from your tea-drinking skills.”

You cocked your head to the side, letting both sets of hands wrap around your warm mug as you rose a brow at him.

“My tea drinking skills?”

He smirked, nodding confidently, “Yeah, you know it’s a real art to not spill all over yourself. People do it all the time.”

There was a playful look coating your features, your eyes squinting shut as the smile took over before your laugh, shaking your head ridiculously at him.

“You’re impressed way too easily, Steve.”

Maybe it was the fact that you both were sipping tea in the middle of summer or perhaps the airflow in your kitchen was poor, but either way it didn’t take much for you both to notice the fervor that developed. You two were only inches apart. The space could be closed just by one sway towards each other’s bodies.

The lump in his throat bobbed as he swallowed, watching you take another sip as you tore your eyes away with the heat rushing to the apples of your cheeks. You looked pretty like this; he was sure you always did, but something about you here in your own kitchen surrounded by everything that was you felt just about right.

“I can’t help it…” You snapped your eyes back up at him, seeing him lift his shoulder with a placid grin on his face as he spoke.

“I’m always going to be impressed when it comes to you. Even when it’s just tea and a pretty—”

“What’s this!?”

The two of you jerked your eyes to Robin, leading the rest of the pact behind her into your kitchen. You swore he was just about to call you a pretty girl, certain even, but there were a million things he could’ve said.

Pretty mug.

Pretty kitchen.

Pretty apartment.

Pretty girl.

Pretty you.

No! He wasn’t. There was no way.

You quickly leaned off the counter, gesturing to them as Steve scooted over to make way for everyone else. They all picked up a mug, conversing amongst each other as they began drinking and popping open the milk and honey, serving themselves.

“It’s Lavender mint tea! I also have homemade oak, almond, and cashew milk so hopefully none of you are allergic…but if you want, I could run to the store and pick up some whole milk, it’s only down the road anyway so it won’t be long—“

Steve could sense the anxiety in your ramble, unsure if it was because of him and the line he had casted out towards you, or maybe because of the sudden intrusion of his friends that made it feel like you two had been caught when in actuality you both weren’t doing anything wrong.

Steve halted the jabber, resting a reassuring hand on your shoulder as everyone helped themselves to the tea, not aware of what you had been saying.

“None of them are allergic, so you’re fine…don’t need to go all out for some kids from Hawkins,” he looked around at his friends who were too busy to care, “everything you’re doing is perfect.”

You clutched the mug in your hands, taking a sip again feeling your heart thump at his words. You didn’t understand what sorcery was going on, but you did know that Steve Harrington had a way with words and every sweet thing that left his lips made you feel like you were floating.

Steve swore that he could see a pink blush creeping onto your face, but the mug you had tilted closer to your face hid it. It was cute; he didn’t know why you took so weirdly to compliments. It was something that he noticed right off the bat when you two first met. The way that if anyone said something nice about you, you felt the need to downplay it or not respond at all.

But Steve would keep complimenting you because you truly were someone that deserved to know their worth. So he smiled, continuing to watch the way you tried to hide your blush, while he sipped on his tea.

Robin wasn’t clueless to the two of you, sure she didn’t have the best timing, but she could read the both of you. The way you and he would stare at each other for too long and even how you’d both stray to each other if the other ran off somewhere else.

She knew where this was going.

Coughing lightly to clear her throat, she tapped you on the shoulder.

“Do you mind showing me the bathroom?”

You nodded, a tight smile on your face as you brushed past Steve, but not without your arms grazing before you led her out of the kitchen and into the opposite hallway where your bedroom and the bathroom was.

“It’s in here,” reaching forward and twisting the door open to reveal the bathroom.

Robin smirked wickedly, seizing one of your arms and pulling you into the restroom before shutting the door.

You shrieked and snorted all in one, startled at her action and trying to steady the mug in your hand so you didn’t spill any.

“Robs!”

She pressed her back against the door, a woozy smile on her face as she widened her eyes at you, “What the hell was that in there?!”

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head frantically, “Oh my god, shush, he could hear you! It was nothing!”

Robin laughed, as you tugged her a ways bit from the door, hoping that no one, and especially Steve, didn't hear the conversation that was happening inside here. She opted to close the toilet lid, sitting on top of it while you leaned against the counter, still sipping on your tea to avoid talking about this, but Robin seemed to have no plans to stop.

“It didn’t look like nothing! You guys were like milliliters apart, and his eyes were all dreamy and full of stars when he was staring at you!”

Her hands twiddled around in the air, trying to show you what she meant, and you knew exactly what she meant because you saw his orbs in the same light. Like an ocean of stars and glitter every time he had his eyes on you long enough for you to catch it—to make a wish on them.

“His eyes are always dreamy.” You countered out loud, instantly regretting that statement as Robin clasped a hand over her mouth to stifle her squeal.

You bit back a smile, turning your head the other way so she couldn’t see the way you were absolutely blushing out of your mind.

“I knew it! I could feel the tension in that kitchen and I just knew it! And the other day? You two just couldn’t stop looking at each other. You guys are totally crushing and are gonna fall in love!”

God, you couldn’t even remember when’s the last time you actually had a crush on someone attainable. All the guys you liked were fictional, from books, tv shows, and movies, because at least those guys were mesmerizing and actually respectable people. But Steve felt like that too, that one out of a million that you could actually see and have the privilege of being around let alone talking to.

He was so out of your league, there was no possible way he could’ve meant what he was going to say as a genuine romantic compliment. He was just being friendly. Just being the same Steve that Robin described to you before you had even met him. The same Steve who graciously covered for you when you didn’t want to talk about your asshole ex boyfriend.

The Steve that had you thinking about him on your drive back home wishing you were watching the sunset with him—

You heard the snap of her fingers, before feeling her stand up and make her way in front of you where she stood and clutched your shoulders, causing you to look at her. Shaking your head, you sighed heavily, finally prompting her a response after those grueling composing seconds.

“He’s just nice, Robin, and I’m sure he’s being kind because we just met. I barely know him! You said it yourself, remember? Steve’s a nice guy.” You said seriously, setting down your mug on the open counter space as she pouted and shook her head.

“No, I mean yeah, Steve is nice, but he’s being abnormally kind to you. The kind of kindness where it’s all sappy and lovey. It kinda makes me want to throw up, but also makes me want to kick my legs like an idiot because seeing him this way after all this time is actually nice.”

She explained with a complicated look that quickly turned into smiles and fondness, realizing that Steve was actually putting himself out there and you just were too foreign to it all. She watched as you took another deep breath, letting your shoulders stoop against her hold as you held your head in your hands.

“I stood there like an idiot Robs. He said something really nice to me and I…I just stood there! Gosh, he probably thinks I'm totally dumbass or something.”

She scoffed, shaking her head, giving your skin an encouraging squeeze when you finally looked up at her.

“Trust me, Steve doesn’t think you’re an idiot or a dumbass, or anything bad. He's genuinely so enthralled by you. And this is the same guy whose attention span is shorter than mine, so that’s saying quite a lot if, after the first hangout he’s already asking more about you.”

Your eyebrows curled into a frown before raising curiously, silently asking Robin to tell you what she meant before she licked her lips, eyes darting around the bathroom trying to pick one out of the many scenarios where Steve had asked about you.

“Umm, okay, this one!” She decided confidently, nodding her head and furrowing her brows roughly to mimic Steve earlier this morning at the florist.

“Which flowers do you think she likes best? She’s like super into florals, right? Is she allergic to anything? Jesus Christ, I don’t want to show up with flowers that she’s allergic to. That’s like fucking embarrassing Robs. Okay, you know what, I’m just gonna pick the prettiest flowers and hope she doesn’t end up sneezing or anything.”

You snickered at her impression of Steve’s voice and mannerisms, feeling your heart swarm as you thought it was pretty sweet that he was taking the time to ask about you, let alone think about putting in so much effort into those flowers he had brought for you.

“That’s actually really adorable,” you admitted, while Robin smiled and tilted her head, watching you thoughtfully.

She removed her grip for your shoulders, hands softly clapped while she shrieked while you rolled your eyes playfully at her delight. “See! I’m like cupid or something! Just yennooo…try throwing out a compliment and if it feels weird or wrong, then you’ll know. But I think we both know how it’s gonna go!”

“Sure cupid,” You rolled your eyes lovingly before going deep again, “I just don’t want to mess things up, alright? If somehow we’re both reading this wrong, I don’t want to lose him as a friend. It’s gonna put me in an awkward position if he doesn’t feel the same, so just for my sake, let’s just keep this conversation between us?”

You held out your pinky finger towards her, where she immediately crossed her fingers over her heart and proceeded to hook her pinky with yours.

“Promise!” she vowed, kissing her thumb as you giggled and did the same to yours.

When you two unhooked fingers, she crossed her arms and looked back at the toilet then at you, “I still really gotta pee, so…”

You tsked, chuckling lightly as you picked up your mug and gave her a thumbs up before exiting the bathroom to give her some privacy. When you walked down the hallway back into your living room, everyone looked relaxed, sitting on the couch or just hanging around the floor enjoying their cups of homemade tea while they talked amongst themselves.

Steve was in his previous seat, rocking back and forth in the hanging chair still nursing his lavender mint tea. When you came into view, he flashed you a smile, almost a questioning one, asking if everything was alright considering you were just in the bathroom with his best friend for quite some time. You assured him a nod and a small curl of your lips, ushering him to nod back.

That god he didn’t seem phased by the previous kitchen interaction.

“What’s that?” You requested, settling on the carpeted floor where Will and the rest of the teenagers were sitting near the coffee table flipping through a book.

Will glanced over with a shrug, sliding the book towards you, giving you a chance to see the art that covered the pages. You were amazed, setting down your mug and pulling the book closer as you looked into each stroke of the pencil and all the shading.

“Will, these are beautiful.” You nudged him casually with your elbow, making him smile, while he watched you flip through the next few pages where more illustrations filled the sheet.

One of the pages that caught your eye was a figure, one dressed in a cloak with a pointy wizard hat, and it looked a bit like Will. Maybe a self-portrait of some kind for that fantasy game he and the boys played.

“They’re not as good as yours, but I wanted to bring it so I could show you what I’ve been working on.” He told you, while you frowned and reached to rest your hand onto his, giving it a squeeze.

“No, these are amazing. I mean, this is just incredible…when I was your age all I could draw were stick figures.”

The laugh that Will let out made you smile and so did the reinforcing words coming from his friends, egging him on and telling him how awesome all of his sketches were. You knew that art was subjective, and even when you yourself were hard on the work that you made, you also had to find it within yourself to be kind.

And you wanted Will to feel the same way, because he truly had a talent for art and you wished you had someone when you were younger who encouraged you to pursue it sooner.

“I actually have a bunch of spare paints and brushes, and other supplies that you can take home.” You told him.

Shifting to your knees as you began reaching under the coffee table where some storage bins were located, filled with some paints you hadn’t yet used. You began pulling them out one by one, setting them on the coffee table and talking to Will about each of the brands and colors.

From Steve’s place, he could see more of you than Will whose back was facing him. He saw the way your nose crinkled distastefully as you expressed your dislike of certain paint brands because of the opacity and smell. Then how quickly the look of disgust was replaced by a bark of hilarity as Will told you something about his mom brewing a fresh pot of coffee to battle the horrible smell of some of the paints he used.

Steve hoped it didn’t make him a creep for always watching you, but it was out of admiration than it was out of flirtation. He preferred watching you because there was a way about you—an ease, almost one that even yourself didn’t quite notice, but he did.

To him, the best way to describe the feeling he got around you was almost like a secret garden.

One filled with every kind of flower blooming under the radiating sun. Trees growing so tall with birds settling on the stretching branches. The air the perfect kind of cool where bees and butterflies pass through as they soar through the sky. A calm waterfall trickling into a pond that calls out to everyone to jump in freely.

For Steve, it’s like jumping in and getting lost in you…exactly as he’s doing right now.

In simpler terms, people gravitated towards you, not solely for your sweetness or kindness, but for how genuine you actually were.

Even in Steve’s own experiences, he knew he was guilty of just nodding along and pretending to understand what any of the teens were talking to him about.

Video games. Computers. Poetry. Skateboarding. Dungeons and Dragons. Painting. Boyfriends. Girlfriends. Crushes. Whatever it was; just going in one ear and out the other while they kept talking and talking and talking.

But not you.

If anything, you immersed yourself into their world even when it wasn’t something that you could fully wrap your head around like that fantasy game. Yet you never failed to ask questions in order to learn more about it, but it was mostly because you loved to see their faced light up when talking about something that they enjoyed without needing to worry about sounding nerdy.

He wished he could talk to you about anything, and he knew he could, but just not right now. Not with everyone sitting here when all he wanted to do was tell you how down to earth you were and how it was even impossible for you to be real.

But indeed real you were meeting his eyes for only a split second before you turned it all back to Will as he spoke.

“Do you think I could try to paint something?” Will asked you timidly, almost anxious of being a nuance, but you bubbled out an excited yelp, scrambling to your feet as you rushed to your bedroom in order to grab a blank canvas that you were sure you weren’t going to use.

“Where is it?” You puffed, hauling open your closet door in hopes of you finding it in some bin that you stored all your excess supplies in.

A knock sounded on the doorway wall, prompting you to call out a reply instead of actually looking at who it was, just assuming that it was Will or one of the other kids.

“Need any help?”

Steve’s voice had you ceasing all movements, encouraging you to take a deep breath and realize that the whole kitchen thing was over. Right now, you needed to get it together and not make things weird. You exhaled softly, peeping back from behind your closet to see him leaning against your door frame with a small smile before you nodded.

“It’s so bare in here.”

He joked, looking around the room where the only piece of artwork hanging was one above your bed. A total lunar eclipse with its blood-red moon shining bright against a dark sky with tiny stars scatters around it.

You gasped subsequently, finding the smaller canvas and standing up from the ground, “I like that my bedroom is sorta away from all the chaos out there.”

Your hands motioned to the outside of the door, making circles and rolling your eyes, as if the living room was such a chaotic mess, when it really wasn’t. He chuckled, shaking his head before raising his brow at you.

“Anything else we need?”

Yeah, some fucking composure, Steve, because now I’m thinking of a compliment to spit out so we can get a feel of whatever the fuck we have going on.

You nodded, dropping the canvas on your bed and strolling over to the bottom drawers of your dresser where more supplies were stored.

“Yeah, some new brushes and a paint pallet for him.”

He watched you, totally oblivious of your nerves and instead in awe of how considerate you were being, by lending Will new items rather than just letting him borrow what you already had.

“You’re going to spoil the kid rotten.” He quipped, seeing as you couldn’t pick between two different shades of blue paint tubes and instead, just threw both of them into the pile you were amassing for Will.

You looked up, looking as innocent as ever and shaking your head, more than happy to spoil the kid.

“These have just been sitting here waiting to be used and Will will probably use it more than I ever will.”

He chuckled, coming down beside you, kneeling on the floor to help gather the paint tubes in his hands knowing you wouldn’t be able to carry it all by yourself. Your fingers brushed each other as you both grabbed a few, eyes flickering up to each other with a quiet laugh, continuing on before he spoke just as delicately.

“You’re really too sweet.”

Now’s the opening…just be smooth and throw it out there.

“I’d like to think I am,” you replied, snickering to yourself, when on the inside you were screaming.

He looked to you, seeing as though you tried to brush it off, “No, really, I mean it, you’re probably the nicest person I’ve ever met…no one has ever put this much thought into a hang out before.”

You looked almost smitten under his gaze, tucking your cheek into your shoulder and trying to play it off as a shrug despite the smile he could see seeping upon your face. He found it cute. Though he didn’t know why you tried to hide it, he wanted to make you smile and make you feel good about yourself.

“You really think so?” You asked unabashedly, following his head nod with a grin.

“I’d go as far as saying you’re the sweetest girl I think I’ll ever meet.”

Play it cool.

“You must not have met many girls then?” You stood up, hearing his chuckle as he followed your lead.

“Don’t really want to meet any other ones anymore.” He countered.

Strike and get a feel of it.

You grabbed the canvas off your bed as you swooped by. “Robin wasn’t kidding when she said you were charming.”

“She said that?” He said comically, and you giggled nodding and walking out of your bedroom with him trailing behind you.

Throw it out there.

“Yeah, which isn’t totally surprising, considering the fact that you’re pretty sweet yourself.”

There was a glint of teasing to your voice, not that it was too different from the sweetness that dripped from it regularly, but he could tell there was something more there. He didn’t want to think too hard about it, not wanting to ruin the moment with his never-ending questions, so instead he clung to it, hoping he’d get the chance to hear something like that coming from only you ever again.

“Here you go, Will,” you crooned cheerfully, entering the living room with Steve trailing behind you with the paints.

Will’s eyes lit up with excitement, sitting up on his knees as you two placed the items on the coffee table. You sat beside him while Steve went back to the chair, watching in on you explaining to Will each of the pigments and their properties.

This time he wasn’t doing a lot of listening, his mind still caught up in your words and if it meant what he thought it did. He was going to call you a pretty girl back in the kitchen, that is before Robin and the rest of the gang had stumbled in to stop him.

Was that compliment supposed to be a response to his?

Was what you said even a compliment?

Of course it was…hell you could’ve you said he reminded you of a golden retriever and he’d take it with pride and brag to everyone that a pretty girl compared him to a cuddly animal.

But was he just maybe reading into it too much?

You were always dishing out compliments to everyone, saying how great and talented they were, but not with the undertone you had spoken to him with. Perhaps he had misheard you and now he was doing all of this overthinking just to end off at the same place you both started, which was friends.

Just friends.

“Steve, could you come with me and Eddie to the kitchen, please?”

Robin and Eddie both stood, looking at him sharply as they shuffled into the kitchen, signaling for Steve to follow their lead.

He furrowed his brows, standing up quickly and heading for the kitchen, “What’s up?”

“You’re being fucking weird!” Eddie's whisper shouted, pointing an accusing finger at him.

Steve looked taken aback, looking at his two friends puzzled. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t think I can’t tell when you’re thinking too hard. What’s the matter?” Robin softly prodded, crossing her arms across her chest.

“W-what? No, I’m fine…I’m just thinking…” He said, avoiding Robin’s knowing eyes as he looked at Eddie instead.

Eddie rolled his eyes, “You keep following her everywhere, yet you’re not making a move. Everyone in that damn living room can feel the tension between you guys.”

“There is no tension!” Steve claimed quietly, peering back and making sure you still were laser focused on the painting.

He looked back at his two friends, resting his hands on his hips, “I’m being friendly alright. I want to make her feel comfortable and help out the same way she did. That’s all.”

Robin threw an unconvinced look his way, before gesturing towards Eddie, “When you met Eddie, you made fun of him for nicknaming his guitar sweetheart, it’s not the same.”

“Because Eddie isn’t a girl!” Steve argued, only causing Eddie to raise a brow, holding a hand over his heart pretending he had just been wounded.

“Are you saying I’m ugly, Harrington?”

“Oh my god,” Steve grumbled, rubbing his fingers over his temples.

Robin reached forward, grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him to look at her, “Dude…stop thinking so hard about it. If you like her, just be cool about it. Ask her out if you want. I don’t know…j-just do anything besides what you were doing out there because you looked like you were in pain and it was just weird.”

Did he really looked pained?

Steve blinked, trying to process debating if he wanted to ask Robin if he really looked that bad or for some fucking advice to man up and ask you out already. He didn’t know what he was avoiding, knowing that usually if he liked a girl, he’d just go in and take the shot to ask, but with you, he just couldn’t.

There was too much to lose if something went south.

His thinking was cut short by Eddie who began snapping his fingers, pointing victoriously like he and Robin cracked some sort of secret Russian code or something.

“We were right!” He started poking at Robin’s cheek as she grumbled yet bit back a smile.

Eddie pointed towards Steve again, not bothering to hide the smirk on his face, “What’d I tell you? Harrington is usually so quick to slide on in and ask a girl out and now suddenly he meets a gorgeous down-to-earth-painter-baker-girl and now he’s whipped!”

He drummed his fingers on Robin’s shoulder, making her laugh before turning to her best friend, suddenly bright pink in the cheeks.

“You must really really like her if you’re not using those god awful pickup lines to make her fall for you.” She said half jokingly.

Steve shrugged, moving away from the two and instead reached for his tea mug and taking a sip of the now semi-warm liquid. “Maybe…I—I dunno…I just don’t want to rush things because she knows about King Steve and I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.”

Robin tilted her head, looking apologetic, “She told you I told her about that?”

He shook his head, looking at her dully, “No, but she did say you said I was charming, which pretty much gives it away…also you’re such a terrible liar.”

“Am not!” She gasped, lightly punching him in the arm.

Steve didn’t look so convinced, arguing back without hitting her, “Yeah you are!”

“Fuckin’ kill me,” Eddie sighed, rocking his head at the two.

“Is everything ok?” Your cool speech came ringing in the small kitchen, making the three of them stutter, trying to not look so suspicious.

“Y-yeah, fine! Umm, they were just wondering if you had more tea!” Steve lied, turning his eyes back to Robin and widening them, signaling for her to let go of his shoulders, which she did.

He made his way over to the stove, peeking into the pot that had only a bit of tea left.

“Oh, I can make some more if you’d like?” You responded, moving further into the kitchen to meet Steve at the stove.

With your back turned to Robin and Eddie, they both motioned their way out of the space to give him more time with you, but not before shooting him a suggestive wink.

“Uh, no, no need for that. I’ll just take what’s left…Eddie and Robin have ummm, small bladders! I don’t want them complaining the whole way home later.”

He closed his eyes shut, shaking his head to himself while you attempted to stifle a laugh reaching for his mug and pouring the rest of the tea into his cup.

“Here you go,” you said, turning to him with his mug filled.

He flashed you an apologetic smile, saying a quiet “thank you” while you shake it off.

“Need anything else? A snack?”

His ears heard you loud and clear, but his eyes were stuck on the living room where Eddie and Robin were wildly gesturing their hands in the air, mouthing, “Just do it!”

For my friends to stop being dumbasses is what he wanted to say, but he shook his head, tearing his eyes away from the two friends and giving his sights back to you.

“No, this is all. Thanks again.” He reassured you, earning a smile as you both walked out of the kitchen and back to the living room.

Taking your place between Max and Will who were painting, you were able to get a glimpse of the work they had completed for the short time you were gone. Max had wanted to join in after getting tired of the comic she was reading.

“Oh, this is amazing—shoot, I’m so sorry!”

You weren’t quite sure why you were here apologizing at the fact that Max had accidentally turned towards you with a paintbrush in her hand, smearing gold all over the front of your shirt, but here you were.

“Shit, it’s my fault. I’m so sorry.” The red head said, clutching a hand over her mouth as you shook your head.

“No, it’s my fault! I shouldn’t have snuck up like that. It’s okay, the paint comes off easily in the wash, I’ll go get changed!” You yelped, getting up and jogging down the hallway into your room.

Max turned to Steve, glaring at him.

“Really? Eddie and Robin have small bladders? That’s the best excuse you came up with?”

He scratched the back of his neck, leaning forward, “W-what?”

“Max just bought us some time to tell you how weird you’re being.” Lucas smirked, glancing at Max who looked proud of her quick idea.

Dustin snorted in agreement, finally tearing his eyes away from his comic, “If you’re gonna keep staring at her and following her around like a minion you might as well as her out!”

“I’m not asking her out on a date with all of you here!” Steve countered, staring at all of his friends like they were insane.

Robin rolled her eyes, looking at Nancy, then him, “You asked Nancy to have six kids that time we went road tripping a few years ago. What difference does that make now?”

Mike groaned, covering his face in discomfort remembering overhearing that conversation. “I didn’t have to be reminded of my sister hypothetically having six babies with Steve.”

Jonathan snapped his eyes to Nancy who widened her eyes at Robin, “When was this?” He asked.

Nancy shook her head, brushing him off, “A long time ago, so it doesn’t matter. And they’re right, you and her obviously have chemistry, so why not just stop wasting time and get it over with?”

“No, we don’t,” Steve shook his head, not sounding as convincing as he’d like.

Nance tilted her head, giving him those doubtful eyes, “Really? Do you actually believe that for one second?”

“You keep following her around like a lovesick puppy.” Jonathan admitted, forgetting about the stupid six children thing and saving it for another day, seeing as though Steve really expected that they all couldn’t see right through you and him.

“Every time I look over at her to see if I’m doing something right, you’re in my peripheral ogling at her like a piece of art.” Will responded, tearing his eyes away from his canvas.

“It’s kinda cute.” El said with a giddy smile.

“She’s always smiling at you for some reason.” Max continued.

“Which is funny considering that you’re not that pretty to look at,” Eddie quipped, earning a scowl from Harrington.

Robin rolled her eyes at the men’s consistent banter, knowing she had to work fast before you came back out.

“What we’re trying to say is that she clearly likes you and you like her. You can try denying how you feel, but we know how you get when you start crushing on a girl, so don’t think your lying is going to fool any of us.”

She told him, which would've been reassuring, but asking a girl out in front of a crowd of people wasn’t something that sounded like a good time for him or you. It was just going to put you in that sticky spot with all the attention and most likely to say yes to save him the embarrassment.

He couldn’t do that to you.

“Well, I’m still not asking her out with you guys down my throat. Her and I are just friends. I need to get to know her first. Hell, I don’t even know what her favorite color is or if she likes sports? These are things I should know before I ask a girl out!”

Who was Steve kidding and when did he start caring about frivolous shit like that? You and him could have nothing in common and still he would fawn over you and snowball this crush into something more. Even going as far to turn himself into Picasso's reincarnation if that would make you like him better.

“I’m back!” You grinned, sauntering down the corridor sporting none other than a cropped Red Sox t-shirt.

Steve’s favorite team, of course.

Eddie grunted, already on the tip of making a subtle note, just to see if he was right.

“Nice shirt, but didn’t they lose—“

“Oh, don’t even get me started! The game was totally rigged and if Buckner didn’t mess up that inning, Boston would’ve taken that championship home.” You said intensely, taking your seat between Max and Will once again.

Everyone’s eyes turned to Steve’s, watching them muddle with even more affection than before. You were his total dream girl. He knew it, and so did everyone else.

“Everything alright?” You chuckled after the short seconds of silence.

Grunts and hums came from everybody attempting to not fixate their gaze solely between you and Steve, but it was a bit tough considering the stare that Steve had locked on you.

“Peachy, just trying to remember that date because it was so memorable, and I wished that someone here would make a move and remember it.”

Robin emphasized her words sharply, snapping her fingers to get Steve’s attention in order for him to stop staring at you before you caught him.

Eddie joined in, coughing loudly to “clear” his throat only stopping when Steve finally snapped his eyes away from you.

“Yeah, you know what’s so funny about dates is that they mark something special and really help solidly the—“

You lifted your eyes from Will’s painting just in time as Steve shook it off the stare.

“October 27th 1986 but the series went from October 18th through the 27th if we want to get specific.”

Holy fuck. Holy shit. Holy Mother Of God.

“I—I gotta go to the bathroom!” Steve spat out speedily, resting his mug on the cramped coffee table and shooting up.

You creased your brows together, watching him trudge down the hallway, clumsily, “The first door on your right—“

“Right! Yep! Got it!” He called out, reaching for the handle and nearly propelling himself through the door and slamming it shut.

You tilted your head, letting out a grunt before turning your eyes to Robin, “I—Is he okay?”

She nodded with a broad smile, sitting up from the couch and knocking Eddie’s arm with her elbow, “He’s actually the one with a small bladder so…yenno, when nature calls am I right?”

“He and the toilet are gonna be awhile, a date if you will,” Eddie snorted, making you choke on a laugh before giving them a slow head nod and turning your attention back to Will and Max.

This was by the far the longest time Steve had ever spent staring at himself in the mirror for something not related to his looks. This time around, he was staring for another reason, trying to find the Steve within him that would actually pull the trigger and ask you out already. It was clear as day that he liked you. He didn’t need anymore confirmation of it, he knew his feelings.

But he also knew you were worth more than this and more than the old Steve.

The old Steve could easily swoon you with a pickup line and flirty eyes: the King Steve that you had heard about from Robin. But that wasn’t who Steve was anymore and it sure as hell wasn’t the version of himself he wanted to be when he was with you.

He wanted to be better, to show you that you actually did deserve someone with character within them. Even after all this improvement and trying to actually search for a relationship that consisted of love rather than just sex, he didn’t know if he was good enough for you. If you’d even want to go on a date with him.

He wouldn’t know if he didn’t take a chance.

But what if all you wanted was to be friends?

Would that ruin your friendship with Robin?

Could you possibly imagine yourself ever being friends with her again after her best friend made a pass at you?

He liked you, but he loved Robin and knew this friendship meant a lot to her. The last thing he wanted to do was jeopardize it because of a crush even if Robin was fully in support of it.

Maybe you and him were supposed to be just friends.

“Steve! Dude, c’mon we gotta go.” Dustin’s voice came from the outside of the door, knocking firmly against the wood.

He furrowed his brows, unlocking the door and pulling it open, “Go? Go where? We just got here.”

Dustin sighed, gesturing back to the living room where you were helping the others clean up, “Nance called home and Mrs. Wheeler said that Holly had an allergic reaction. We gotta get home ASAP!”

“So why can’t Nancy and Mike go home and we stay?” Steve hissed more harshly than intended.

The boy shook his head in incredulity, crossing his arms over his chest, “Need I remind you we drove here in Eddie’s van? We all need to leave together or else you’re stranded in Roane, but by the sound of it, you wouldn’t mind at all.”

Dustin wore a knowing sneer while Steve bit down on his tongue, not really wanting to lash out on the kid who was pointing out the very obvious feelings that he did a horrible job at hiding.

“C’mon lover boy, we got a hive covered six-year-old who needs the hospital and we gotta house sit for a few hours.” Dustin said, finally patting Steve on the arm before turning on his heel and heading back to the living room.

He followed closely behind, seeing everyone begin the file out the door where you hugged each of them.

“I hope everything is ok with your sister! Please, just don’t hesitate to call if there’s anything I can do to help!”

You tightly wrapped your arms around Nance, closing your eyes as you rubbed her back affectionately and heard her murmur a “thank you so much,” before pulling away.

“Bye! Thanks for having us, again!” Dustin saluted with a toothy grin before you giggled and hugged him.

Steve was the last one left in the doorway with you, keeping his hands to his side not knowing if he should open up to hug you first or not.

“Oh! Hold on, don’t go anywhere. I gotta give you something!” You pointed your finger at him and jogged through your apartment into your room, coming out a few seconds later with his yellow pullover folded neatly in your hands.

You held it out to him, wearing a smile on your face. “I washed it and ironed out the wrinkles. Sorry if it smells like honeysuckle, it’s just the detergent I use!”

His heart ached even more knowing this thing would smell like you until the next time it’d be washed. Only fueling the crush he had and taking every ounce in his body not to jump at the opportunity to tell you how down to earth you were and how much he’d like to take you out on a date if you’d let him. But instead, he could only muster out a few sentences.

“T-thanks! I won’t mind at all…and thanks for having us over, even if it was only for a little.” He laughed, watching you shake your head.

“No, it was really fun having your guys over, and umm, I invited everyone to come to my art gallery this weekend, and it would really mean a lot if you could make it, if you’re free.” You said tenderly, rubbing your hand over your opposite arm watching a smile break on his face.

He nodded, “I’m free this weekend so I’ll definitely be there.”

“Thanks! Robin has the directions and whatnot.” You spoke, nodding your head as you both stood there for a second totally forgetting that he had to go until Eddie beeped his horn.

You snapped out of your stance, instantly apologizing, “Shit, sorry! Okay, I’ll see you!’

Steve wasn’t at all prepared for your arms to wrap around his neck, hugging him closely, feeling your breath fan again his skin as he hurriedly draped his arms across your back, squeezing you tight, “Y-yeah! See you then…”

Pulling away from Steve felt difficult just as hard as it would be knowing that you wouldn’t be able to see him for a while. It didn’t help that you and him didn’t get to speak as much as you’d like because you really wanted to get to know him more. To ask him about life in Hawkins and how he liked Roane so far.

It just didn’t help that you felt like you crossed a line after telling Steve that he was “pretty sweet himself.”

Was that too forward of you?

Maybe it was too corny?

Did it throw him off?

It probably did throw him off. It had to have been that. After you replied with that sad excuse of what was supposed to be a compliment, Steve started acting weird. Strolling off to the kitchen with Robin and Eddie, probably telling them all about how you sucked at flirting. Even excusing himself to the bathroom in a haste when he clearly didn’t have to use it.

For a minute, you thought that you really did blow your chances with him, but it all drifted away when you caught the smile and wave that he threw at you from the passenger seat of Eddie’s van.

He looked happy, yet sad to be taking off, kinda like how you looked after needing to leave the Harrington house. You just didn’t want to get your hopes up living for something that had a small probable chance of ever coming to life. There was no telling what mood you and Steve would be feeling the next time you saw each other, and you didn’t want to jinx it before it was too late.

You just closed the door, pressing your back against the wood knowing that everything in your system was dying for the moment you and Steve would see each other next.

For now, you’d have to pad across your apartment thinking about him wherever you strayed, wishing he was following close behind like he always was. But he wasn’t.

The only trace he left behind was his scent lingering in the air and the strawberry cup that was yours, but you didn’t mind if it belonged to him now.

Truly, you were screwed, living for the hope of it all.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated 💌

a/n: chapter one is here!!! ive been working on this for a while and was actually supposed to make this series only 3 parts but i love it so much (and tumblr is laggy lately) that i wanted to split them up into more parts and ill also be opening my inbox to blurbs for what im coining "glitch universe" very soon!!! i hope you all love this chapter and stick around for the rest!! a big thanks to effie again for helping me proof-read and hyping me up through all this!!!! happy reading to all!!!!! 🍰🍓🧸

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @scoopshxrrington @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss

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dwindlinghaze · 9 months

Note

Hiii ur writing is sooo good

I was wondering if u could do a Remus x reader who is James sister and she falls for the first time she sees him and just like a fluff kinda thing idk but I was thinking and it sounds cute 🤷🏽

no worries if u don’t wanna write this but if u do thanks you write him so well 💗

hi!! tysm for requesting! i hope you like this! sending lots of love 🤍🌸🫧🪽

the light is coming

(remus lupin x potter!reader)

contents : fluff, pining

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"james! where are we going?" you squeezed his arms, leaving white prints on his skin.

"ow- we're going to meet my friends," james answered, pushing through the crowds in diagon alley.

"i've meet them before," you replied with a huff. you wanted to see them actually, since your pretty crush is a part of his friend group, but you weren't going to show it. playing it cool.

"but you've never met them," he emphasised.

it's true. just sharing smiles and waves when you passes them in the hallway. you were younger than them so your schedules were different.

"so... here's my sister!" james happily introduced you to his friends once you entered a coffee shop where his friends were.

"this is sirius," he pointed to the infamous hogwart's handsome boy with eyes so grey and cool. he wore a black leather jacket with shiny chains decorated within them.

you sent sirius an awkward smile. the thing is, you were scared of meeting them in person, face-to-face. not because they intimidated you, but because you were never really comfortable with the presence of men around you. you knew deep down that james' friends are friendly and fun but that fear doesn't go isolated.

"this is remus," james tilted his head to the boy standing closest to him. he wears a green coloured sweater, even though it's the summer. you noticed this of course, he never took his jumpers off. his hair was the perfect shade of golden blonde, eyes as green as a comet in the sky. he wore a macrame bracelet that his mom probably made for him.

he has a different aura. you actually might be comfortable with him overtime. his gaze so friendly and warm, despite his scruffy exterior. you thought you might actually blush when he sent you the prettiest smile known to men.

"and here's peter," james patted peter's shoulder. he was shorter than all of them. he seemed kind and polite. wearing an outdated cardigan with the edges a bit worn out.

"lovely to see you guys," you chuckled, sending a happy smile. and in return, you got warm greetings back.

"let's go to the quidditch store!" james announced, dragging you and sirius by the arms.

your brother and sirius were in a deep conversation about quidditch that you ncould never understand so you wiggle yourself out of his grasp. preferring to walk behind them along with remus and peter who were having a peaceful time admiring the wizardry architectures.

your pace slowed down, meeting with the two. a part of you also just wanted to be closer to remus. he welcomed you by smiling at you with the kindest eyes. leaving your heart hammering. maybe it was a bad idea to leave james 'cause now you're in this messy situation.

"hey," remus started softly, not wanting to scare you off. "how you're enjoying your summer?"

"hmm good, how about you?" you replied, finding it hard to create a complete sentence.

"it was fine, missing school though. wait- i meant friends- james sirius peter not like i'm a school-lover or anything," remus let out a nervous laugh, tips of his ears turning a shade of red.

"yeah i totally understand that. i miss my friends too," you smiled at him warmly. "did you do anything exciting?" you asked.

"no, not really. you?" he looked so focused at you to the point that you think you might disappear.

"uh i just.. went to the beach s'all, nothing really exciting. i guess when we grow older, the things we find exciting isn't much fun anymore," you shrugged, still keeping your eyes away from him.

a few seconds later, he pulled your shoulder to himself, making you gasp reluctantly. he did that so you wouldn't hit the person who was carrying a trolley. how convenient.

that simple gesture made your heart beaten twice as fast. your long time crush was holding you?

"oh i'm so so sorry," remus pulled his hand away, sending apologetic eyes. "i- i didn't want you to hit him so i pulled you, i'm so sorry!"

"that's okay remus, i appreciate what you did," you smiled softly. "can i call you that?" you asked.

"you can call me anything," he smiled.

you two bonded together overtime. he is becoming your best friend in the whole entire world.

he asks about your day. he opens doors for you. he asks what is your favourite breakfast menu were so he can save it for you. he pulls out chairs for you to sit.

"i've been seeing funky things about you and moony," james said one day.

"what funky things?"

"as if you two were in love...?" james quirked his eyebrows up.

"we're not," you huffed, feeling your ears turning warm.

james looked at you suspiciously, "y'know you can tell anything to me. i won't let remus knows that you're in love with him, promise."

"i'm not!," you defended. though you think you were.

"you are! i can see it. y'know i'm really glad it's remus who you've fallen for because he's a good guy. the only one i'd let you be in a relationship with."

"james stop that. i'm not in love with him, he wouldn't love me anyway."

"oh you're so wrong about that!" james said before he left you to his quidditch practice.

remus did everything right. starting from little things to big gestures like this one.

you were sitting on the grass besides the black lake with a carpet under you. seeing the waters shining and glimmering.

it has been a routine for the both of you to sit here every friday, talking about literally anything and everything.

surrounding you were pretty wild flowers, matching your florally dress that you wore today.

it would be a lie to say that remus wasn't in awe of your appearance. your hair were shining under the warm light of the sunset. everything was perfect today.

"is this okay?" he asked, wrapping both of his arms around you from the back as you stared into the big wide lake. he just wanted to be close to you. to feel you. hug you.

your stomach was flipping, feeling his gentle touch. "yeah, you're so warm," you cuddled into him as he nuzzled his face to your neck.

he swore he's going to ask you to be his girlfriend soon. it's inevitable. he feels it.

#x reader #character x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin x reader fluff

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cloveroctobers · 9 months

Text

LUCA — summer prompts 🍋

A/N: taking a shot writing for Mr. Luca! Love when the bear gives us crumbs and I’m able to create/build more off what was given. Let’s give it up for Mr. Eyebrow king being in lurve 💛 also I promise this is the last time I’ll be using a song from this album but the entire album fits for the bear in my humble opinion, I’m not going to hold you!

WARNINGS: still trying to get a feel for Luca’s character so I hope I wasn’t too far off for him! Feels! A supportive partner! Mentions of mental health & dark thoughts that lead to dark actions—but not overly described but definitely hinted!

Added summer prompts from here & I’m using these two: “hey, you said to keep hydrated! i’m pretty sure there’s some water in this cocktail.” + “i’m not happy you’re sunburnt, but i am enjoying getting to be the one helping you put aloe vera on.”

*GIF BELONGS TO: @goodsirs

❛ ༉‧₊˚ - ̥۪͙۪˚ ┊ ˚ ̥۪͙۪◌ ❛ ༉‧₊˚ - ̥۪͙۪˚ ┊ ˚ ̥۪͙۪◌ ❛ ༉‧₊˚ - ̥۪͙۪˚ ┊ ˚ ̥۪͙۪◌ ❛ ༉‧₊˚

Being back in Copenhagen was a whirlwind of emotions but Peyton picked the very best one.

To tell you the truth, Peyton’s been away for about three months, and decided to take the trip back but not alone.

She’s the one leading the way, natural sway in her hips even beneath her cream shacket as she’s all smiles to the familiar workers who seem to be moving at ease. It’s a Sunday, a little after twelve and the restaurant isn’t as busy yet. In her mind, it’s the perfect time to show up, unannounced, although Sydney and Marcus were definitely questioning it.

Carmy doesn’t say much, deciding to take in the architecture of the dark painted walls and the industrial decor instead. He still follows behind as Peyton pushes the back doors open, holding it in place as she waves the three to where the real show is located.

The kitchen is louder and lively compared to the main floor: which is quiet with small chatter, cedar wood infused air, and the gentle splashing from the large stone water fountain, that’s tucked in the back of the main dining floor.

There’s at least six chefs moving around in the kitchen, handling different tasks and talking to each other in calm tones that aren’t as similar back in Chicago. It’s a whole different atmosphere, Carmy thinks and he knows his thoughts are matched as his round eyes peek over at Sydney’s while Marcus sends all split-tooth grins.

It doesn’t take long for Peyton’s eyes to find Luca’s frame, who has his back turned to the four, large hands tending to the dough on the counter that he’s kneading.

“Is that the guy?” Sydney asks, only hearing a few stories from Carmy and occasionally Marcus.

Carmy nods, “yeah, yeah. That’s Luca.”

Peyton continues holding the door for the chefs who start to leave the area, greeting Peyton on their way before she lets the door gently flap behind them after they take their exit. The woman with the hair full of volume takes a stand in between Marcus and Sydney.

“Welcome and welcome back to Brimstone’s Gate.” Peyton introduced the trio who further took in the environment of the kitchen.

Marcus took a deep inhale, “it’s nice to be back…after everything you know?”

A solemn mood is felt after his words.

“I absolutely get that,” Peyton comments as she rests a hand on his shoulder, “just consider this your second home. A place of comfort and to relax your mind.”

Marcus gives a small smile, “thanks, Peyton.”

“Of course.” Peyton moves to face the three again, smile on her glossed lips as she clasps her hands together while she begins walking backwards, “so brimstone’s gate is one of the popular restaurants here in Copenhagen just like the lovely owner and manager of this place that you just met, Ragmus previously said. It’s mainly known for its intricate desserts and quaint and savory cuisine.”

“You’re really selling it, Peyton.” Sydney tells with two thumbs up.

Peyton winks as she points out at the twenty-something year old, “thanks girl, it’s what I do.”

Peyton’s a successful Editorial Food Photographer and it became the best decision she’s made for her career.

“Should we be calling you presenter chef instead?” Carmy teases, “we could have used some of those skills at the bear.”

Peyton laughs as she rolls her thumb over her fingers, “where the money resides, honey.”

“Ah, and here I thought we were friends.” Carmy’s got a crooked smile playing on his lips while Peyton playfully scoffs.

They both know if Peyton was in Chicago on better terms, Peyton would definitely shoot some photos if that’s what Carmy really needed for The Bear. She met Carmy years ago, attending the same restaurant alongside Luca, until she decided creating food wasn’t her passion like her well-known food critic mother wanted it to be. Instead she liked seeing the visuals and telling hundreds of those stories through film.

“That’s a likely story,” she responds as she purposely bumps into Luca who hadn’t noticed they were here, “oh my apologies! Didn’t see you there, Chef.”

Both Marcus and Sydney both squinted and furrowed their brows at each other while Carmy folded his arms, waiting to see how this would play out.

Luca exhales, assuming it to be one of the new clumsy younger chef’s that just started here two weeks ago. He pulls some of the wet dough that sticks to his finger tips and barely glances upwards, a routine of words spewing from his lips, “t’alright chef, let’s just remind ourselves the notices we give out to one another when we cross around, yeah?”

“Sure thing,” Peyton says, “Mind telling us what you’re preparing?”

His arched brows immediately furrow before he focuses in on who exactly is speaking to him. There’s surprise written right on his face, brows raising while Peyton is still full of soft smiles that she sends his way. He’s grabbing a rag then, struggling to break his eyes away to see the other three faces.

“Hey man,” Marcus starts which makes a slow grin appear on Luca’s own face.

“Good to see you again, Chef.”

Luca’s eyes trail over the small group, his eyes then settling on Carmy’s who still looks the same as he leans from one foot to the other but he’s full of more tattoos. Which almost makes Luca want to glance down at his own filled arms but he decides against it. He still liked his own artwork better.

“Carmen Berzatto.”

“Luca Hodgson.”

The three are watching the pair as if this is a pickle ball match. Sydney’s holding a breath as Luca makes his way over to Carmy, towering over him and face not revealing any emotion while Marcus is sending glances to Peyton who is behind analyzing Luca’s dish.

Luca says, “Are you still a know it all prick?”

Marcus was not expecting this since it was Carmy who reached out to Luca in the first place for his experience here months ago. He figured they were on good terms if Carmy wanted Marcus to learn from Luca. What changed?

“Well that uh depends, you still a show off, jackass?” Carmy met Luca’s eyes, not backing down in the slightest.

They hold each other’s stares before Luca breaks off into a laugh, followed by Carmy as they briefly embrace, hands clapping each other on the back in greeting.

“Oh, okay then.” Sydney mutters as she gazed over at Marcus who is also confused with a shrug of his shoulders.

Carmy then does the honors of introducing Sydney and Luca, who immediately shakes his hand, despite the sticky and warm residue from the dough.

“Pleasure to meet you, Chef Sydney. You probably can’t say the same now with dough on your hand, I suppose. I’ll grab you a wet nap.” Luca tells as he moves around to grab the said item.

He leans against the opposite counter where he was previously working, now fully wiping his own hands, glancing over at Peyton who’s all up in his dish as he voices, “I wasn’t aware any of you were coming. A heads up would have been cool.”

“So you’re not a fan of surprises, noted.” Marcus says while Luca dips his head about in a sorta motion.

Carmy scratched at his brow then, “We were under the impression that Peyton had it all sorted.”

Luca’s eyes are back on Peyton who’s listening but doesn’t provide anything to the conversation, it’s not like Luca could do anything about it now since they were all here.

“Don’t touch the remonce.”

“It’s not remonce yet,” Peyton looks over her shoulder at Luca who rolls his eyes.

Luca then says, “nice of you to let me know you were bringing guests.”

“They’re not guests, they’re practically family.” Peyton fans her hand about while Luca just lets out a sigh.

Carmy cuts in, “we’re not trying to disrupt the flow you have goin’ on here by any means.”

Luca snorts, “uh huh. It’s slow right now, so you lot are lucky I don’t mind.”

Sydney awkwardly claps her hands together, “great! We’re also really curious to what you’re working on…here at work.”

“Smooth, Syd. Real smooth.” Marcus teases while Sydney tightens her eyes sarcastically.

Luca looks back at his dish where Peyton is ready to show it off, posing in front of it like they were on jeopardy. The man cant help but to shake his head at her antics but announces, “I’m making frøsnapper.”

“It’s a traditional dish here,” Peyton mentions, “frø is a danish word for seed and frog.”

Sydney jokes, “Is it also going to leap off the tray after you take it out of the oven?”

Luca blinks but says with a straight face, “maybe if I throw in a few drops of green food coloring.”

It took a few seconds for Sydney to get the joke back, breathing out some slow laughter, while Marcus shook his head at her and Carmy watched as Luca briefly touched Peyton’s hips to make more space for him to talk about the pastry.

“Yes so, frøsnapper. Also known as for the English, seed snapper or frog snapper. It’s got remonce filling and once it’s done baking, it’s sweet and savory while the texture falls between flaky and delicate.”

“Like a croissant.” Marcus pointed out.

Luca shook his head, “Not quite, Marcus. This is Denmark.”

Marcus paused as he picked up on Luca’s mannerisms, “…fucker.”

Which makes Luca grin again.

“How long is Prep time?” Carmy asks as he makes the first move to get closer, peering at all the ingredients.

“About 12 hours or so.”

Carmy let’s out a low-whistle, “Shit.”

“Shit’s right mate and I started yesterday. It’s a excellent breakfast or pick me up for the afternoon, which is why I planned for it to be done today.” Luca explained.

Peyton speaks up, “and it will be…how long for the oven?”

“Fifteen minutes.” Luca automatically answers as he looks at the clock on the wall behind them all.

“See…Patience.”

“Every second.” Luca moves his winter deep ocean eyes to her ink colored ones, the two holding each other’s stare before he turns back to the rest.

“Any of you have allergic reactions to sesame or poppy seeds?” He asks, watching their facial expressions.

Carmy shrugs while both Marcus and Sydney shake their heads, ‘no.’

“Great, grab some aprons by the door there while I roll out the dough.”

“Oh, we’re doing work too on this vacation. Okay, yeah! I’m down.” Sydney rubs her hands together in excitement as she elbows Carmy lightly, who twists a smile onto his own lips.

Marcus is the first to move while Sydney follows. Carmy stays behind with Luca and Peyton as he picks up on the end of their hushed conversation:

“…I’ll be much better when we have dinner?”

“Cant. Not sure how long I’ll be here tonight, we have a few summer birthday gatherings here later. What about breakfast? It’ll be my day off.”

“Early meeting for me, I’ll be at the office.

“Lunch then?”

“…That works.”

“Finally.” Luca mutters as he takes his time but adds just enough pressure to roll out the dough, which makes Peyton let out a small laugh.

Sydney comes back, handing Carmen a apron who was mostly in a trance watching the dough get flattened that he didn’t bother to interrupt the conversation between old friends. He silently thanks Sydney before securing it around his waist.

Peyton leaves room for Marcus and Sydney to take her spot on the left of Luca, “and this is where I leave you three in good hands.”

“Wait…you’re not gonna get in on this?” Sydney is surprised while a smile is still planted on Peyton’s lips.

She motions to her outfit, “Looking this good? Not today, girl.”

Sydney eyes Peyton’s outfit which consisted of her brown voluminous hair pulled back into a claw clip, a cream opened corduroy shacket and a orange and white floral mini dress, “…fair point. I’m sure if you really wanted to, you could button that thing up and throw a apron on. Doesn’t seem like something you’d want to miss.”

“Your concern is touching, sis. But I actually can’t wait to get home and I’m sure Luca will save me one to try.” Peyton says as Luca is back in his zone now, trimming the edges of the dough and slides off the ingredients of the remonce to Marcus to mix together by hand.

Luca is listening as he replies, “yeah I will, see you at home.”

“See you at home.” Peyton repeats before winking at Sydney who is gapping, Marcus widens his eyes a bit, and Carmy is covering his snickers with a balled up fist.

Sydney turns back to the dish after Peyton leaves and mumbles, “so yeah, next time I’ll shut the fuck up.”

Which earns a laugh from both Luca and Carmy.

“You could have told us, Carmy!” Sydney whisper yells at Carmy who shrugs his shoulders.

Marcus chuckles, “Hey don’t feel bad, Luca didn’t tell me shit either the last time I was here and I’m kinda feeling a way about it now.”

Luca instructs Marcus to spread half of the remonce on one side of the dough then says, “I didn’t think we needed to share love stories just yet, Chef. The love was already there in the pastries.”

“Booo, how corny of you. Where’s the tomatoes?” Marcus snorts which Luca can’t help but to chuckle back.

Luca jokes after he nods his head in approval at the amount of remonce, “Looks like all of us were left out of something, huh?”

“If you don’t mind me asking…how long…?” Sydney starts as Luca takes over after Marcus folded the dough again, slicing it into twelve rectangles before he shows Sydney what to do next.

“What? How long have we been in love and decided to get engaged?”

“This fucking guy, how did you deal with him?” Marcus laughs, asking Carmy.

Carmy says, “we handled our beef outside.”

“What?!” Sydney squawks, “there’s no way you two fought.”

Luca explains, “it happened only once not far from the restaurant we worked at. And I don’t really classify that as much of a fight.”

“A punch to the eye wasn’t good enough for you?” Carmy’s eyes are in slits at this.

Marcus comments, “Damn.”

Luca defends, “A sucker punch isn’t fair. But I got you back, we scrambled a bit and then moved passed it the next day, bruises, cuts and all.”

Marcus concludes, “Sometimes that’s just how it works.”

“It smells like too much testosterone in here for me.” Sydney cuts in.

“Not sugar?” Luca lightly questions as he starts with the egg wash before handing another brush over to Sydney to help finish the rest.

Sydney scowls, “Yeah dude, I don’t know if I like you.”

“Join the club,” Luca winks over at Carmy who rolls his eyes with a small smile.

“Are you serious?” Luca wants to know just what his soon to be wife thought she was doing.

He met up with her, right on time, finding her sitting on the stone wall with what looked like a bright Orange cocktail in a plastic cup decorated with a little umbrella and fruit jammed along the straw.

They’re at the beach, it’s mid seventies, and there’s not many people on the walkway that rests along the sand. Mostly everyone else is taking advantage of the comfortable warmth on the sand. Luca and Peyton weren’t really beach people, preferring a lake and cabin any day but it was Peyton who suggested they meet out here since it was closer to her job.

It was far from their detached home but Luca didn’t mind the drive. He loved sight seeing when he made the time for it and usually when he had the time off, which was rare, he tried to get out there and see the world since there was so much to offer. He also couldn’t wait to be in Peyton’s face again; he wouldn’t count spooning her last night either, considering his face was covered with her bonnet.

Which he missed.

Conversations were meant to be had so that they could continue on with their journey together. She had to step away from their relationship for a few months and Luca was nothing more than understanding…although it stung a bit. He even offered to pick up and go to Chicago with her but Peyton told him life couldn’t be put on pause for her low moments, yet she was appreciative.

She dressed in jeans today as she hops off the wall, a smile in her brown eyes as she holds out her arms innocently, “hey, you said to keep hydrated! i’m pretty sure there’s some water in this cocktail.”

She’s mentioning the text message Luca sent to her a few hours ago, after she announced a headache was coming on after her meeting with her pushy manager. He was just checking in as he did a bit of laundry around the house but that didn’t stop his concern at all.

“Give me that,” Luca plucks the drink from her fingertips, fast as he sniffs at it before placing his own lips right on the straw, “hmm and here I was expecting vodka.”

“It’s not that kind of party, baby.” Peyton peers up at him as she locks her arms around his waist.

One hand comes up to palm her cheek, leaving Luca to take his time trailing his eyes all over her beautiful features, “So good to have you back.”

“Kiss me then.”

Luca snorts, “is this you asking for my consent?”

“Sure, uh huh.” She’s almost swooning in his eyes and Luca smirks as he leans closer to her lips.

“Eh, maybe later.”

“You asshole!” Peyton pushes at Luca’s back after he circled around her.

He’s laughing as he tosses a tatted arm over her shoulders, liking the feel of her being tucked right underneath his arm. She doesn’t miss how he’s holding onto her drink now, but she doesn’t mind it as long as she gets to keep him close.

They’re enjoying each other’s company again, almost as if the last three months didn’t happen but they both know it did.

“So…tell it to me straight. You’re back here with me now and I was left in the dark as soon as you were checked in.”

“I wanted to call rather than write you but I never had the words.” Peyton quietly says, “And I know you wouldn’t have minded if I just said a simple hello and we breathed on the phone for twenty minutes or whatever. I just didn’t want to make it worse for you.”

Luca hums, “Guess I can appreciate you taking my feelings into account but I can’t say I wouldn’t have rather talk to you than your mum, no disrespect.”

“Yes I know, she’s a lot.”

“Most families are.”

Peyton lays her head against Luca’s shoulder as they continue walking along the path, “Well you’re my family too and I’m sorry for handing over nothing but white noise to you while I was trying to get a better hold on this.”

It was extremely hard not knowing where exactly Peyton was and dealing with a mother like her’s.

“I don’t want you to apologize for doing what you thought was best for your mental health.”

“And I don’t want you to feel like I was shutting you out…you’re the last person I’d want to ever to do that to. I love you too much, to the point where I realized that I’d always want tomorrow’s with you.”

Luca felt his heart swell at that. It was always a good feeling to know that someone loves you just as much as you loved them. Luca was always known for his banter especially back when he worked at Noma years ago with both Carmy and Peyton but it seemed like Peyton’s energy meshed well with his.

He instantly thought Peyton was attractive and didn’t enjoy how she got on with Carmy equally at the start. Her approach to cooking wasn’t as serious as it was for him and Carmy but she was curious to learning. That’s something that was brought into their soon romantic relationship, they were open to go with the flow and it led them right to Luca putting a ring on it.

Peyton never had regrets about saying yes. She knew what she wanted with Luca and although the black parts of her brain gave her heavy blues, her heart still told her all that she needed to know.

Luca was patient, tender and he was still her man. They wanted forever and had to find balance even when it became shaky at times. They wanted to stick it out, be together and they lost touch once before when Peyton was the first to leave Denmark but somehow they always found their way back.

“I think that counts for a kiss, don’t you?” Luca whispers, stopping right in their path as he stares down at the dark umber skinned beauty.

Peyton almost pounces on her toes, “thank you! As if we haven’t deprived each other enough.”

“Gosh, so needy.” Luca teases, curling a finger underneath her chin to tilt her ready lips to meet his.

They both exhale as their lips touch after being away for quite some time. Her hand is resting against his clothed ribcage and their lips move together in sync as if there isn’t any limit to time. It’s when his tongue traces the outline of her full bottom lip that she pulls away, fanning herself.

“This man is trying to get me to buss it open in public on the beach, Chile. Relax yourself Hodgson, before we catch a charge.”

Luca’s nose crinkles at this as he chuckles, “fine…save it for the indoors, yeah?”

“Maybe even in the backyard?”

Luca raises his arched brows, actually considering it, “Nah, I don’t want to hear you yelling at me for messing up your edges in the grass. Mind you, that you’re probably allergic to.”

It wouldn’t be the first time he’s messed up Peyton’s edges.

However Peyton always appreciated the concern.

“What about the garden room on the side of the flat?” Luca soon suggested, leaving Peyton to also think about this before she eyed Luca up and down.

It must have still been empty since she left, that area of the home completely slipped her mind when she settled back in, even after leaving Brimstone’s gate yesterday afternoon.

“I think you forget how big you are sometimes.”

A smirk appeared on Luca’s lips then and before he could even open his mouth, Peyton was slapping her hand right over his lips.

“Don’t finish that sentence, there’s kids around.” Peyton warned.

Luca frowned as he muffled, “you started it!”

Peyton smiles at a father who is holding the bars of a tricycle of his toddler, leading them down the path, excusing them as they make their way by. Once they’re out of ear shot, Peyton lowers her hand from Luca’s lips until he pulls the sun glasses from her combed out pin-curled hair to place over his own eyes.

“You’re very handsy today.”

Luca’s arm drapes back over Peyton’s shoulder, pulling her into his side, then he presses a kiss to her temple, “I don’t see you complaining.”

“You’re right.” She pulls her cocktail back to take a sip, “why would I ever?”

“Exactly,” Luca speaks, “…going forward, whatever you need from me, don’t be afraid to let me know please, Mrs. Hodgson.”

Peyton places a kiss to Luca’s pink neck, “thank you baby.”

“Don’t start singing that pasta and lobster song please,” Luca groans after picking up on her tone.

Peyton sends him a look of innocence, “what do you mean? Are we not having that back at the house when the three bears come over?”

“What’d do you mean?”

“There’s no way we’re not inviting Carmy, Marcus, and Sydney over for dinner.”

Luca shrugs, “I didn’t know they were comin’ ‘round anyways.”

“Luca!”

“What? What if I wanted you all to myself first?”

“And you will, they’ll only be here for a week.”

“…A week too long.” Luca mutters making Peyton laugh as she shakes her head, shoving his shoulder.

“Stop it, Luca Lamar Hodgson.”

“No.” Luca chuckles as he points at the beaming woman, “Now you know that is not my middle name, at all.”

What do you have against Lamar’s Luca?

“I’ve talked to Lulu on my way here.”

Luca feels his eye twitch at the mention of his gossiping little sister, Luella. He of course loved her dearly but she could be a brat sometimes and when he misses her call, Peyton was next in line for her dramatics.

“The elevator doesn’t always go upstairs with that one. Especially with whatever she’s gone and said to you.”

“You are on a roll today,” Peyton laughed with her head thrown back, “and you’re not about to do my good sis like that either.”

“She’s my sister first and I know she didn’t say my middle name was that.”

“You don’t know our conversations.”

“Thank heavens for that.”

Peyton paused as she untangled herself from Luca who lifted up her shades to peer at her in question. She held her arms out as she says, “there’s space and opportunity if you wanna fight.”

Luca scans Peyton up and down, taking his time as he did and scoffs, “You don’t scare me, babe. I’ll have you over my shoulder like flour in seconds.”

Peyton cracks her neck and motions her hand, “come on then. Remind me, which one of us was the athlete here?”

Yeah Peyton was deeply invested in tennis once upon a time and originally that’s what Luca thought she wanted to make a profession. She still participated down at the court during the weekends and man was she fast along with those long arms that provided powerful swings. Luca couldn’t see her on the court when it came to tennis, he almost pulled a damn hamstring but he wouldn’t tell any of his mates that.

As for football and cycling…that was a different story.

“That was then and what year are we in now?” He tapped his apple-watch.

Peyton cupped her ear, “Do I hear shade?”

Luca looks around at the sky, “doesn’t appear to be partly cloudy at all. It’s actually very sunny.”

Peyton let out a whole karate sound and tried to strike one, which was humorous but Luca was swift as he easily gripped her thighs and lugged her right up onto his shoulder, holding her in place.

“I told you.” Luca said after awhile, causally walking down the path while Peyton attempted to wiggle around, “let me know when you’re done. I’m just enjoying the view.”

Peyton huffed, “now what if you made me drop my cocktail?”

“I’ve got actual water back in the car, love.”

Peyton mocked Luca who laughed and patted her backside, carrying on in Copenhagen’s sun.

Up in their bedroom, Peyton is lounging on the bed, phone raised up in the air browsing food TikTok’s until she hears Luca letting out a string of curses that sound heavy in his accent from their en suite bathroom.

“Luca, you good?” Peyton calls out to the man, breaking her eyes away from her screen.

“Y-Yup!”

That didn’t sound convincing at all.

So Peyton’s on her feet now, phone tossed to the side of her as she enters the bathroom. She gets a nice view of reddened skin that’s leading from Luca’s neck and down the upper part of his back.

“Ouch.” Peyton remarks, “I did not notice this earlier. I would have sprayed your ass down with my own sunscreen.”

Luca pinched at his skin and flinches a bit, “summer’s aren’t nearly as hot here. I don’t understand why I look like bloody salmon.”

Peyton covers her giggle, knowing why as she stands beside him, after eyeing the change in his skin tone. “I got you, don’t worry.”

There was no doubt in his mind.

Mintues later, Peyton’s retrieved the goo that she had mashed in the container, stored in the back of the fridge, knowing Luca wouldn’t have went searching through there since he tended to eat out at restaurants or order out majority of the time. He had a sweet tooth so she had to be the one to remind him to actually eat full meals instead of desserts from time to time. Which means they’ll have to go grocery shopping at some point, something Luca truly loathes. unbeknownst to him, his mother all the way out in London had grocery deliveries sent to his home, realizing that he didn’t keep his fridge stocked much after Peyton went back to the states.

Peyton first went off to California to visit her father and grandmother in search of different scenery, taking a break from the growing stress but that stress turned into something else. Luca looked back and saw the signs as they laid on the floor together in the dark, with her talking about the end but figured it was just conversation back then. It wasn’t until she went to Chicago to spend time with her controlling mother that she actually tried and it wasn’t just thoughts. Unperceived to Luca and that’s when Luca’s own mother came to be with her son during this difficult time, then he finally got the call that Peyton was being admitted, just to later learn Peyton’s mother called Luca’s first.

He couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t a little irked that people were going behind his back when it came to Peyton. He should have been there…but he knew he couldn’t blame himself. He thought he was just sending his wife to be off for a simple get away…overall he was happy that she was still here fighting day by day.

He knows it’ll be tough but not everyday will be full of clouds.

“i’m not happy you’re sunburnt, but i am enjoying getting to be the one helping you put aloe vera on.” Peyton says as she’s on Luca’s back, knee’s on either side of him, lathering his back in the cold gel.

Her eyes observe the doodles of ink that decorated his arms and smiles at the sunflower on his shoulder, which he dedicated to her.

Luca exhales at the temperature as he continues resting his cheek against his arm, ready to doze off, “Why’s that?”

“I enjoy taking care of you too, duh.”

“I think you like to touch my body, Mariah Carey.”

“That tooooo-ooh,” she tries to belt out a whistle tone that sounds like a rooster being strangled—“but I also love you.”

“I love you lots too, even when you’re trying to make my eardrums bleed…but don’t ever forget that, yeah?” Luca says over his shoulder as he tries to ignore the sting in his skin but knowing that the comfort is coming from Peyton’s hands, he’ll survive.

Peyton leans forward again to place a kiss to the back of Luca’s head, “I won’t.”

Once enough of Luca’s back in covered in aloe, Peyton leaves to wash her hands and place the gel back into the fridge downstairs. When she comes back into the bedroom, Luca is still in the same position she left him in. Usually her side of the bed is closest to the door, which is something they deeply debated over, she climbs over him to tuck herself underneath his folded arm.

His lips press into her clothed shoulder, his t-shirt, before resting his nose against it later, breathing in her homey scent with his eyes closed. One hand goes to run through his sun lightened hair, further soothing him to sleep as she’s back on her phone now, letting him rest.

No more cold sides of the bed because Peyton was home with her warmth and Luca couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

And the next day after that.

And so on and so forth.

❛ ༉‧₊˚ - ̥۪͙۪˚ ┊ ˚ ̥۪͙۪◌ ❛ ༉‧₊˚ - ̥۪͙۪˚ ┊ ˚ ̥۪͙۪◌ ❛ ༉‧₊˚ - ̥۪͙۪˚ ┊ ˚ ̥۪͙۪◌ ❛ ༉‧₊˚

Go back and read my current flop summer prompt here.

Continue along with my anthology summer prompts here.

#the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear season two #the bear season 2 #the bear s2 #the bear luca #Luca the bear #will poulter #luca the bear x reader #Luca the bear x black! reader #carmy berzatto #sydney amadu #marcus the bear #summer prompts #queued

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boxofbonesfic · 2 years

Text

Title: Size

Pairing: Soft Dark!Thor Odinson x Reader

Kink Prompt: Size [Size Kink]

Word Count: 1,956

Summary: You accept a catering job from a customer.

Warnings: Noncon/Dubcon, Lightly Implied Kidnapping, Obsessive Behavior, Size Kink, Stalking, Smut, Darkfic, Forced Intoxication, AU: Dark, Dead Dove: Do not eat, Minors DNI!

A/N: entry number five and the latest of my very late week 2 fics for my kinktober celebration! mind the tags and warnings, as always, and enjoy! divider by @firefly-graphics

Thor’s… infatuation begins as all things do—small.

It is perhaps the turn of your head as you make his coffee—dark and sweet, the way he likes it. Or maybe the set of your mouth as you pour, full lips pressed together into as you concentrate. Small, soft hands, sweet, round face, filling his thoughts to bursting, and still he cannot get enough of you. Your flour smudged cheeks, fingers stained with spun sugar, you are as addictive as the sweets he lines up for, standing a full head taller than every other person in the queue.

He isn’t entirely sure when he began coming for you instead of the sweets lining the shelves and window displays of your shop. His first visit, Thor had thought of nothing else besides assuaging his craving for sweets. Now, however, his thoughts are consumed with other things—

Like whether or not the girth of his cock will fit between your pretty lips.

He inhales the scent of warm sugar and browned butter, shifting impatiently. He wants to force his way to the front, demand you close down and serve only him, the way he would if he were home, on Asgard. But he knows that you require a light touch, a gentler hand. The way you peek bashfully up at him through your lashes when he finally reaches the front of the line tells him this.

��H-hello, um, again,” you say, a smile spreading across your full lips. Your hair is tied back with a white kerchief, but a few curls spring out to frame your pretty face. He watches your throat move as you swallow nervously.

“Greetings,” he replies, gracing you with a charming smile. He rubs the back of his neck a little, as his smile turns embarrassed. “I fear I simply cannot stay away.” His self-deprecating laugh earns him a sweet little laugh.

“Oh gosh. That’s, you’re just—“ You stammer nervously, shaking your head. “Flatterer.”

“We had a baker, in the castle. His only task was to deliver the finest of pastries to us. I fear you have him beat on all accounts.” You shake your head, laughing again, this time with disbelief. “And that is not flattery. It cannot be flattery if it is true.”

Uncomfortable with the compliment, you try to steer the conversation back to the transaction, the one thing Thor is trying to put off. “You’re too kind. What can I get for you today?”

“I shall have two of your fruit tarts. And one of these, please.” He points to a delicately frosted cookie in one of the display cases. As you’re puttering about getting his order together, Thor clears his throat. “I also come with a business proposal.”

You stop and turn to look at him. “Like… a catering thing?”

He nods.

“Yes. We are to celebrate the start of the harvest season, might you grace our tables with your talents?” You swallow again, teeth sinking into your deliciously plump lower lip as you slowly drop the cookie into a wax paper bag and replace the tongs on the lid.

“Where is it?”

—

New Asgard is not as glorious to behold as his home once was, but he is still impressed by the traditional architecture the remainder of his people have been able to erect. The mead hall is bright and bustling with activity, the festivities well underway. Thor watches as you flit from serving table to serving table, fussing over the plates. When you see him watching you, you smile apologetically.

“Sorry. I get… controlling, when I cater.” You nervously tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I hope everything has been good.”

“Delicious. I could not have asked for better.” He produces a goblet of Asgardian wine, and it’s massive in your small hands. “I do not believe you have partaken.” He smiles. “It is a celebration, is it not?”

You try to put the goblet down on the small table, but Thor’s smile drops by a fraction. He sees the desire to please in you plainly, and this time is no exception as you hesitate, and then turn back to him.

“I’m—well, you know, I’m working, technically.” He looses a booming laugh in response.

“If you are working, then I am your employer, am I not? Please, enjoy the evening.” He watches you carefully as you tip the goblet up to your lips. Your eyebrows rise with surprise.

“This is good, actually.” You sniff at the alcohol, looking up at him. “I’m not really much of a drinker,” you admit with a sheepish look.

“Mead. Our finest. You’ll find the quality quite different from that of your Midgardian brew.”

“Yes, it’s sweeter,” you chirp, taking another sip. Thor is careful to keep the knowing smile from his face. “I like it.” He chats idly with you as you finish it, draining the goblet.

“I must ask. What led you to this profession?”

“Oh, um. My grandmother, actually.” The alcohol has loosened your tongue. You press a hand to your warm cheek. “I grew up with her, and she was always baking. I’m sure you can tell,” you point at yourself, a self-shame dripping from every syllable.

“I’m afraid I do not share that particular Midgardian sensibility,” he says casually. “My people find a,” he pauses, letting his eyes linger on yours for a moment more than was appropriate, “robust figure to be a sign of good health.” His smile widens by a fraction. “And virility.” He turns to a passing server, and plucks another two goblets of wine from her tray. Thor presents one to you, and you’re too flustered not to take it.

You take a few sips, and Thor readies his timed apology. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to offend.”

“Y-you, um, you didn’t.” You’re eager to change the subject, and Thor obliges.

“Would you like a tour?” He asks, the smile on his face turning proud. “I would be honored to show you.” You want to be talking about anything other than yourself, and so you nod as Thor watches you drain your second goblet.

“Yes, yes please. That would be wonderful.”

He walks you through the tapestries lining the walls of the great hall, victories and feats of valor performed by his father, his ancestors. There are artifacts on marble pedestals in the hallway, and as Thor closes the large doors behind him, the sound of festivities fades into interminable silence. You marvel appropriately at his treasures, and Thor beams at you.

“My father’s helm,” he replies, nodding at the golden helmet you stand in front of. “It was quite something to see him ride into battle.”

“These are amazing,” you reply earnestly. “I’m… I’m very sorry. About what happened.”

His smile turns grim. “Yes.” He grimaces. “A loss I fear my people shall never recover from.” The long hallway begins to slope upward, leading to a set of stone steps. He leads you up them, and you follow unquestioningly. His own chambers are above the mead hall, ornately furnished in the style of his destroyed home. You gape at the luxury of it as he leads you inside, your eyes moving from the brightly lit fire in the hearth to the bed, the balcony. The settees and pillows in front of the hearth make for fine seating, and there is a pitcher of wine and two glasses on the table. Thor motions for you to sit, and you do.

You smooth the silky fabric of your dress behind you carefully as you perch on the pillows, and Thor begins to pour you another glass.

“I really shouldn’t—”

“What is another glass of wine between friends, hmm?” He asks, knowing full well that the inside of your skull must be buzzing fiercely already. Cowed, you meekly accept the goblet, raising it to your lips as he raises his. “I must complement you once again,” he says, and you fidget, drinking deeply from your goblet.

“T-thank you. I honestly… I can’t believe you asked me.” Thor settles himself beside you, close enough that your thighs touch.

“I could think of none better.” His hand falls to your shoulder, and you swallow thickly, and lean forward to place your goblet back on the little table in front of you. You miscalculate though, and almost miss. Thor quickly snatches the cup from your alcohol-clumsy fingers with a chuckle.

“Careful, little mouse.”

You duck your head. “I’m—I’m sorry. I think I’ve had a bit too much to drink.” The words are slurry and heavy on your tongue, he can tell by how their edges run together, the words blurring like runny watercolor. “I—”

“It is strong, is it not?” He hums, placing it on the table.

“Y-yes.” You blink up at him blearily before shaking your head. “I-I should go. Check back on the—” His hand clamps down your thigh, large enough to cover most of it with his palm. Thor squeezes gently.

“No, pet,” Thor chides you softly. “We’re having a conversation. It is rude to leave now.” You squeak as he squeezes again. “You know, I quite like you.” He revels in the feel of your soft skin under the thin fabric of your dress, his hand moving slowly up and down your thigh. Your eyes widen as you search for an exit, your mouth opening and closing while you try to find words to dissuade him.

“Th-that’s very nice, but, I, um—”

Thor chokes off your protests by lifting the goblet to your lips for you. He tilts it up as his other hand slides behind your head. Your eyes widen with shock, and you cough, sputtering as he tips the wine down your throat. Some of it runs out of the corners of your mouth as you choke on it, but far more of it goes down your throat. You feel dizzy and sick as he pulls away, swaying dangerously on the couch.

His hands are already working at his belts and trousers furiously, before loosing the cape at his shoulders. You lift a hand to your head as you try—and fail—to stand, falling back to the cushions. Thor hushes your drunken, mumbled protests with his own mouth, sighing as he runs his tongue along the seam of your lips. You’re so small, his hands span almost the length of your waist as he grabs you about the hips, pulling you down until your hips fit lewdly against his. You try to close your thighs around his hips clumsily. The movement forces your dress up your hips, exposing your panties as you fidget.

“—I, wait—”

“It’s alright, pet,” he brushes one of this thumbs across your lips, slipping it between them as you open your mouth to speak again. “I’m going to make you feel so good.” He groans at the sight of you, and slaps his cock against your vulva a few times for good measure.

“F-feel good?” You mumble drunkenly, looking up at him with wide, glassy eyes.

“Oh yes, pet,” he purrs, fisting his length in one hand. The thick, veiny length of him stretches almost to your belly button, and as he plays with the swelling nub at your center, you grow slick and whiny. Your breath hitches in your chest as he presses against your tight entrance, your cunt stretching reluctantly around his head. You whine, pressing your head back into the pillows as you huff through your teeth.

“T-too big, Thor—” The head pops inside and he feels you shudder, the words turning into an embarrassedly pleased moan.

“On the contrary pet,” he says lowly, drawing back only to drive in another few inches. “I think it’s just right.”

fin

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bumpkinspice0 · 9 months

Text

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: explicit (MINORS DNI!!!!!)

Word Count: 5285

Summary: There's a massive breach to Spider Tower, Miguel needs the help of the entire spiderverse to contain it.

Warnings: Previous traumatic accident (Wound and pain from such but nothing too descriptive), I don't know how healing works it's the future shut up, angst, pining, protective!Miguel SMUT! Sexy shower time, fingering, praise kink, kinda body worship, Miguel takes GOOD care of you, don't look at me

A/N: Sorry this took longer to update than usual, life really started lifin' there. Also I didn't know how to write the shift in relationship dynamic good so you'll gotta deal with that too. ENJOY

Previous. Next

Series Masterlist

AO3

_______________

Chapter 10

Let Me Take Care of You

You drift lazily on the waves of consciousness for what felt like hours, your eye’s only forming blurry images as you attempt to force yourself to wake up. The smell is the first thing you notice. Fresh, clean linens and something else you recognize but can’t put your finger on. It wasn’t quite sterile , like a hospital, but not completely welcoming like a home either. When you finally burst fully from the veil of sleep, it’s a room you’ve never seen before. Smooth and sleek futuristic architecture like the tower. All accented in crisp white and grays, almost no color— but it’s not a hospital room like you suspected. You’d been to the infirmary in the tower a handful of times, and this wasn’t it

It takes all your effort to simply turn your head to the side, and there on the nightstand is your answer. A framed photograph of Miguel and Gabe. They look younger than you know them. Maybe ten years ago. This was his room.

You were in Miguel's house.

You take another deep breath, bringing the sheets to your nose and finally recognize his scent amongst the clean white linens— like rich red wine. The smell of Miguel.

Why on earth were you here? You move to roll out of the massive bed, but a sharp pain in your side stops you. And in your shoulder— and your head— pretty much all of you.

You look down at your hands for the first time and see several bandages scattered up your arms. You had a particularly big one you recognized on your hand— you’d had an IV in at some point. Your clunky multiverse watch had been replaced with a day pass. Your suit had been replace with a cotton tee and shorts.

Ever so slowly you come up to a seated position. The worst pain was coming from your right side. You lift your plain gray cotton shirt to reveal more bandages wrapped around your abdomen and several ugly purple bruises peeking out from beneath.

“What the hell happened?” you whisper to yourself.

“You got blown up,” a familiar cheeky voice informs you. Lyla materializes at the end of the bed. She’s not a small little hovering woman though. She’s a full-sized person. You never seen her appear larger than a soda can and now she looked like you could practically touch her. “Well, the nanotech took most of the blow. You’re lucky.”

“Nanotech? The suit?” You run your hand over your face, feeling a few other bandaids taped down. One on your eyebrow and another on the cheek. Was there any part of you that wasn’t hurt?

You squeeze your eye’s shut trying to recall anything. There was a fight— I big one. You were called into the tower. It was a blur but you know you made it out. You remember laughing with Jess and Gwen afterward. You’d won. You even found Miguel afterward and he told you to… ah, there it was. Some freak explosion from the rubble by his room. Wrong place at the wrong time. This was gonna be embarrassing to come back from.

Any normal person would be in shock right now. You hadn’t been a normal person for nearly a decade. If you had a dime for every near-death experience you’d had since starting this job, you’d be able to buy the entirety of New York City. This wasn’t your first time waking up bruised and battered and it certainly won’t be the last.

All in all, not the worst you’d been banged up on the job, but still not great it landed you bedridden for god knows how long. You felt sluggish and tired but knew if you didn’t try to move around at least a little, you’d regret it later. Get the blood pumping, that always helped.

You’d really been in this situation too many times.

You slowly move the edge of the bed again. Lyla glitches in front of you.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, where do you think you’re going?” She places her hands on her hips.

“To get some water. I’m thirsty,” You shakily stand and walk right through her pixelated form. Your legs might as well be jello but you make it work.

“This is a fully automated house!” She forms back in front of you when you're just at the door, “I’ll get you the water.”

“I’m a big girl, I can get my own drink,” You sigh and walk/ limp through her again.

“Oh! You just wanna snoop!” she accuses.

Ah, she got you. Yeah, you wanted to move a little, yes, but this was a rare opportunity you weren’t going to pass up. You were in his house. His house! Alone!

“And so what if I do?”

She raises her hands in defeat. “Hey, I’m not stopping ya then.”

You slide the foggy glass door out of the way and leave Miguel’s bedroom. You walk out onto a lofted balcony overlooking the rest of his home. It matched the bedroom with its sleek white glossy and gray tones— and it was massive. Twenty-foot ceilings, Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the far wall, overlooking the city. Wherever you were, you were very high up. A modest living room sat in the center with sleek charcoal furniture. The floors were a glossy deep black. The second-floor balcony lined the entirety of the living space, with several doors and hallways leading to other parts of the house along its path. You make your way across the second level and down the sleek glass stairs— gripping the railing for dear life.

“How long was I out?” You ask Lyla, noticing the weakness in your legs again.

“Three days,” She answers, glitching to the bottom of the stairs. “You were in the infirmary until the swelling went down then the big guy brought you here.”

“What swelling?” You ask, almost afraid of the answer.

“In your brain. Minor. Should be fine now with all the drugs and advanced healing,” She says so nonchalantly it almost puts you at ease— almost.

Sounds like you had a concussion. Awesome. That explains the pulsing headache that was on the rise and your less-than-stellar vision. Your advanced healing can only do so much. You have brain fog to look forward to for the next 2 weeks. Even more awesome, “Might wanna take a week off after this.”

You made it to the bottom floor, spotting the kitchen underneath the stairs. It was sleek and clean like the rest of the house.

“Me? Take a week off? Nah, I’m unstoppable.” You joke as you round the kitchen island with the speed of a tortoise. A cabinet automatically opens for you, revealing the glasses. You grab one and fill it up at the sink. You chug the liquid down in a very unladylike way, immediately refilling the glass. Damn, you were actually extremely thirsty.

“Miggy’s gonna force you to take a month off with the way he’s been hovering over you.”

Your cheeks instantly heat up at her casual statement. She takes notice, a smirk pulling at her pixelated mouth.

“Where is Miguel?” You ask sheepishly.

“Called into the tower,” she casually glances down at her nails, “Had to go do something only he could do , I don’t know. He’s been at your bedside every day and night. He’s gonna be pissed when he gets back to see you finally awake when he wasn’t here. In fact, you should get back to bed.”

“How long ‘til he’s back?” You ask, completely disregarding her suggestion.

“No idea,” She shrugs, her expression still smug. She was having fun seeing your schoolgirl crush. Lyla knew everything from the beginning. She knew all the rules of the agreement too. Miguel brought you to his home. You’d slept in his bed. You’d stayed in this dimension well past the 48-hour limit. He was breaking rules for you— Miguel didn’t break rules.

You take your water and head to the massive windows. There was a large balcony just beyond the apartment. Lyla, seemingly reading your mind, opened the door for you— well not exactly a door. A rectangle of glass dissipates right next to you, leading outside. Guess they don’t do doors the same way in 2099.

The air is fresher than you expected for a city balcony, you attribute it to being so high up. This view was easily head and shoulders above any of the surrounding buildings. It was cold and a little windy, but it felt nice on your arching, bedridden body.

The view was spectacular. You’d been to Nueva York dozens of times before, technically, but you spent all your time in spider tower. You’d caught glimpses of the city, of course, but you never really took the time to appreciate it.

New York in 2099. A futuristic version of your home. It looked nothing like your New York. Everything was so sleek and rounded— taller than your world's cities. There are a few things you can recognize from this height. The green of Central Park is still cut out in the center of the towering Skyscrapers. You’re in Manhattan, not far from the park. The rivers converging around the islands— okay maybe you only recognize a few things. The buildings and streets you know were likely engulfed amongst the behemoth futuristic towers that now make up this New York.

No, this wasn’t your New York. This was Nueva York, and it was incredible.

“Lyla,” You ask and she automatically blips to your side, “Where are we? Like, where is his apartment?”

“You’re still in the tower,” She confirms, “The penthouse suite.”

She confirms your suspicions. You may not have seen much of the city, but you were certain Spider Tower was one of the tallest buildings in it.

Miguel lived and worked here. You wonder if he ever left the grounds in anything other than a portal. Did he have friends? Did he like to go out to dinner? What silly little life did he live outside of being Spider-Man? You suspect he doesn’t have one. You want to ask Lyla but you feel like you’ve already invaded enough of his personal life simply by being here. Then again… he apparently brought you here.

“Why am I here, Lyla?”

She raises her eyebrows over lidded, unamused eyes, “Do you really need an advanced AI to tell you that, girl?”

You don’t, but you also don’t want to dwell on the deeper implications of this unholy shit show.

“What do you think of… this? Of us?”

“Try being a little less vague if you can.” The AI rolls her eyes.

“Fair enough.” you mull over your next words, “But just… why would Miguel bring me here? He’s broken almost every rule.”

“Ya know, it amazes me how dense you humans can be,” She leans against the railing next to you, “Before you came along, Gabe and I were his only close friends. Though, I’m not sure I count.”

“You count.” You inform her immediately.

“Well, thank you,” Some comical blush circles pop up on her face and disappear in an instant, “Miguel cares a lot, despite trying to make people think he’s made of stone. You’re the only other person that’s… been in his life this way. He looks out for his own. Something bad happened to you— and he got scared. And he took control like he always does. Humans aren't always rational. That’s something you all need to accept.”

For a programmed interface, she was a really good therapist. It was all things you already knew but just didn’t want to admit to. You were just human. Miguel cared. You both cared— and that made everything more complicated.

“Was he really with me the whole time?” You ask Lyla, suddenly feeling like a tween gushing over a crush again.

She peeks her eyes over her obnoxious heart-shaped glasses and rolls her head to the side, “Why don’t you ask him yourself.” and in a flash, she’s gone.

As soon as she vanishes, you feel the spider-sense ring in your head, and butterflies instantly rise in your stomach. You turn around to see Miguel standing at the door, still in his spider suit with an almost heartbreaking look on his face.

“What are you doing out here?” it takes him only four long strides to stand at your side, “Lyla shouldn’t have let you out of bed.”

“To Lyla’s credit, she did try,” You smile at him. He doesn’t smile back, worry painted over his features.

“Stubborn woman.” He reaches out to you but quickly pauses his movements as if he’s afraid he’ll break you. “Please, come back inside. It’s freezing out here.”

You nod and head back towards the door. You’re suddenly hyper-aware of how slow and awkward your walking is. He slowly walks at your side the whole time, hovering a hand behind you as if you’ll fall at any second. You catch a glimpse of your full body in the reflection of the windows and you can see why he’s so cautious around you. You looked like a minefield of bandages and bruises. It was jarring to see all at once.

The door closes behind you with a sleek ring as the glass reforms in an instant. You’ll never get used to that.

Miguel’s in front of you again, ghosting his hands over your body, “I can’t believe you’re up and walking. How are you feeling? How’s your vision? They stopped the internal bleeding right away but there still might be—”

He shuts up when he meets your eyes. His were wide but still soft somehow. Caring in a way you hadn’t seen before— deep, lustful red eyes.

“Hi,” you simply say.

“Hi,” he responds with the faintest of smiles. You’d seen his face flash through a series of emotions since he saw you, but he seems to have finally settled on relief.

“I… Like your house.”

“Uh, Thanks,” He stands up straight again, scratching the back of his head, “Will you— I need to— Can you just sit in the living room for me?”

“Um, sure, yeah,” you make your way to the living room just in front of you, he hovers next to you the entire way. He helps you to a seated position on the couch. You swear he holds himself back from fluffing the pillows too.

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t expect you to be–” He slowly sits down next to you, taking a deep breath. Shouldn’t you be the one freaking out? Today, apparently not, “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” You say with slightly forced cheerfulness, “I mean… good considering…” you look down at the bandages scattering your body.

His gaze drops away from yours, “Yeah.”

You weren’t lying. Sure, you were achy and groggy with some bad scrapes and bruises, but overall… not bad. You’d likely experienced a critical accident just days ago. Even with advanced healing, you shouldn’t be as chipper as you are.

“I mean… how am I feeling this good ?” You ask, simultaneously questioning yourself and Miguel. “Lyla said it’s only been 3 days.”

“Four days now.” Miguel’s eyes shoot back to yours, “Partially because of your suit. The nanotech acted as a shield for the most part, preventing any burns and such. You’re also in the twenty-second century with access to the multiverse. We can heal anything.”

That’s… a fair point. Well, future medicine fucking rocked.

He scoots closer to you, reaching out his hand toward your wrist. He pauses, waiting for your permission and you simply place your arm in his hand.

“For example. Here…” He gently runs his thumb along a faint silvery line on your forearm, “You had stitches. I removed them this morning. The rest of these,” He runs a thumb over one of your bandages, “Are cautionary until this evening.”

“That’s amazing,” You look down at your other arm with scattered marks and bandages. Just a matter of hours and you’d be back to normal—for the most part. Like nothing ever happened at all.

“Still,” Miguel’s gaze drops again, “I don’t change the fact that you shouldn’t have been—”

“Don’t,” You cut him off, already knowing where this is going. “Shit happens. Shit always just happens with this job. I’m a big girl, I’ve been through this before. If you turn my freak accident into self-loathing man pain I’m gonna fucking kick your ass, O’Hara.”

You don’t want to focus on the gravity of it all. You don’t want some protective speech, you don’t want assurances that everything will be okay when you know it will be. His actions have spoken louder than his words ever could. You just… want him to stop looking at you like that— Like you’re helpless.

He says nothing. Shock briefly pulls at his stern features until he settles into a smile. You smile back.

“You’re probably hungry.” He says.

Right on cue, your stomach growls like a beast and you’re suddenly fully aware of the aching hollowness inside you.

“Starving.”

____________

Thank god Thai food still tasted the same in the future. You made the request and Lyla had it delivered in less than thirty minutes. It was Miguel’s favorite place in the city, apparently. He had a favorite restaurant, just more proof to you that he wasn’t completely a workaholic robot. There was a regular human underneath that rugged persona, just like you’d always suspected.

You heartily enjoy a red curry and a few dumplings, Miguel has some noodle dish he sets aside for later.

As you finish your meal Miguel returns with a kit of medical supplies, graciously asking if he could check your progress. You agree, not turning away from your dinner for a second. He scans your body with a small tool you’d never seen before.

“Inflammation down 20 percent, vitals normal, advanced healing progressing as expected,” Lyla’s ambient voice announces, “She’s doing great, despite not listening.”

“I’m a rebel, what can I say,” you chuckle lightly. The scan finishes and several small projections hover around Miguel.

“Okay, yeah, this is all good. Really good,” He says, reading over the results. He’d changed out of his suit, opting for a loose pair of sweats and a shirt with a band you don’t recognize. Strangely enough, he looked more attractive in normal clothes than in a skintight suit. He was comfortable. He wasn’t Spider-Man or a leader he was just— Miguel. You liked just Miguel.

He rummages around back in the kit and pulls out a syringe with pale blue liquid.

Oh hell no.

“What’s that?” You ask with apprehension.

“Painkiller and something that’ll speed up your healing,” He scoots closer to you at the dinner table, “This is your last round of it.”

“I don’t think—”

He jabs it into your shoulder before you can properly protest. Despite the pain from the needle, you swear you can feel relief instantly once it’s injected.

“Ouch.” You grumble, taking the last bite of your rich curry.

“Oh, do you need a lollipop?” he tuts, packing away the kit— infuriating man.

“No, but maybe something else to suck on,” You joke. His cheeks flush in an instant. Victory. “Actually what I’d like most is a shower,” you admit.

After four days of stewing motionless in a bed, you can practically smell yourself— which means Miguel could definitely smell you.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’re still a fainting risk and I don’t want to leave you—”

“Okay, then come with me.” You counter instantly. His protective nature is not going to keep you from a hot shower. And well… It felt nice to have him close.

He pauses, raising his eyebrows at you. His cheeks are still faintly red, “I mean, I guess I—”

“Great,” You stand and make your way to the stairs, “Let’s go.”

You pause at the foot of the stairs, remembering what a slow challenge they were earlier. Sure, you were feeling better than earlier— you’d had a meal and whatever was in that needle was fucking magic— but your legs still felt like compacted jelly.

Before you can take the first step you feel Miguel behind you, his hands caressing down the back of your legs and up your back. He gently scoops you into his arms with ease and strides up the steps without missing a beat. Your spider-sense sighs in gratitude.

“Sure. Let’s go.” He grins, glancing down at you.

He walks you both back through his bedroom and into the master bath. A sleek glossy room that matched the rest of the penthouse, every inch of it covered in black marble. The massive shower was on your left and the counter with a ceiling-height mirror was to your right. He seats you on the counter next to the sink. The rainfall shower starts up behind him.

“Okay, let’s get these off you,” he says as he kneels down and gently pulls off one of the bandages from your leg. The flesh underneath is practically healed. You start to remove the ones from your arms, grazing your fingers over the already faint pink marks underneath them. Some were faint scabs and cuts, others were almost entirely healed over. Just four days and this is what was left.

He stands, finished with your legs. He grabs the hem of your shirt and gingerly pulls it off of you. All that remained was the bandages wrapping your abdomen. He slowly starts to unroll them. You wince slightly. He pauses but you nod for him to continue. This was the worst area. The bruises you saw peaking out earlier were already fading away from their previous deep purple. A faint wound still remained on your left side, red tendrils from it reaching over your stomach. You notice small pricks lining the larger portions of the wound. You’d had stitches here too— and now it looked like it’d been healing for weeks.

You shake your head, not wanting to stare at the damage any longer. Later. You’d think about it all later. You had a beautiful man and a shower that were calling your name.

You slide off the counter and pull at the hem of Miguel's shirt. He leans down and you pull it off his body, revealing that gorgeous toned torso. He runs his fingers along the elastic of your shorts and shimmies them off your hips. You do the same with his sweats. A silent ballet you both were deeply familiar with at this point. He cradles your hands as he guides you both backward into the waiting shower.

The steaming water feels like heaven as soon as it hits your body, the rainfall drenching you both in an instant. Your sore limbs instantly feel relief. Your buzzing mind was put at ease. All the anxieties of the day melted away and spiraled down the drain.

You pause there, just letting the sensation consume you. Time slows down and the crackling sound of water hitting stone fades away. You feel like you can properly think for the first time since you woke up hours ago— and it all hits you at once.

You fought. You almost died— and Miguel saved you. If he wasn’t right there when it happened, who knows what would have happened to you. You wouldn’t be here in his house, that’s for sure. He’d stayed by your side, he exhausted every resource to heal you. And he was still by your side right now.

He looks out for his own. Something bad happened to you— and he got scared.

Lyla’s words from earlier echo in your head. He was scared to lose you. You were scared to ever lose him. Not just as a fellow spider but as… something more maybe. You’d felt the feelings pulling at you when you hunted him down in the multiverse those weeks ago. Terrified you’d find him injured or even dead. It was more than a spider-sense. More than this forced proximity you’d both had… well, it wasn’t so forced anymore, was it.

You feel your weakened legs start to wobble and Miguel's hands are instantly on you, pulling you close to him.

“Easy, arañita,” he coos ever so softly.

You look up at him, watching the water cascade over his stern face. His fluffy hair was now drenched down over his forehead. Those crimson eyes filled with concern.

You sigh and rest your head on his chest. “Thank you… for everything.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” He runs a hand over your head and down your back. “Consider us even for saving me… if that helps.”

And there it is, the Miguel you knew. Trying to step away from the gravity of the situation. From feelings becoming too real. This was all supposed to be temporary after all, maybe you should take a page from his book.

Still, you were both here in each other's arms— and that meant something.

“ Déjame cuidarte .” He says just above a whisper.

Miguel trails his hands down your arms, his touch somehow hotter than the water. You close your eyes at the combined sensation. You feel him reach overhead, grabbing something. His hands come back to you, now trailing through your hair. You feel a foamy lather as he does so and the faint smell of flowers hits your nose.

Miguel was washing your hair.

His fingers move slowly and with purpose as they crawl along your scalp. This wasn’t about getting you clean, this was about making you feel good. He was trying to comfort you. To make you forget about… well, everything.

You melt into him, trailing your hands along his stomach. One of his hands trails down your back while the other works the shampoo through your hair. He holds you close. He takes care of you.

He leans your head to the side, the soap rinsing from your hair. He walks you both further into the stream of water and turns you around. Your back is flush with his torso as his hands ever so gently trail over your healing body.

You feel suds foaming from his touch. When had he grabbed that soap? You decide you don’t really care.

He leans down, lips caressing your temples. “Do you feel good, little spider?”

“Yes,” You sigh.

“Do you want to feel better?” you feel one of his hands trail down your stomach and gently ghost over your waiting cunt. A pulse of arousal surges through your whole body.

“Please,” You moan, pulling his head further down. You lean back and pull him into a kiss. His fingers plunge down and run through your folds. You gasp for air at the sensation.

His fingers come up and circle lazily around your clit, already wet and wanting for his touch. He holds you. He plays with you.

Something’s missing this time. Something that was always there when you were both in the most intimate of positions— The spider-sense. You felt its presents, as you always did with Miguel, but you didn’t feel its pull. It’s seemingly innate nature to make you and Miguel go at each other like animals.

He wasn’t doing any of this because he felt like he had to, he was doing this because wanted to. He wanted to make you feel good. He wanted to see you squirm and come undone by his hands.

Later— Think about it later. Just enjoy this. Enjoy him.

He slowly pushes his middle finger inside you. You grind yourself into his palm as he slowly works in and out of you. His free hand comes up to cradle your breasts. He backs you both into the closest wall, the water still cascading over you. His knee comes up between your legs, spreading you wider.

“I’ve got you, arañita. Te tengo, está bien .” He moans against you. You're completely leaning against him as he holds you close. As he works you faster.

You see a glimpse of the both of you in the mirror past the quickly fogging glass— it’s absolutely filthy and you love it. His massive hulking form curled around you wantonly. Your serine, blissed-out face. You adored this man.

“I want you,” You moan, “W-want more.”

“No,” He says just a little too quickly, “Not yet.”

“Please.” You beg breathlessly.

“Not yet, sweet girl,” He sighs, pressing a kiss against your temple. “Finish healing. Get better for me, then you can have whatever you want.”

You don’t entirely dislike the sound of that. You're suddenly aware of your aching body again after being so caught up in the moment. With how fast you were healing it wouldn’t be long at all.

“P-promise?” you barely gasp out.

“I promise.” He curls his finger inside you, grinding his palm against your clit. You gasp, arching further into his touch. “Good girl.”

He was playing you like a fiddle. Familiar with every part of you like the back of his hand. He holds you there against him for what felt like hours, slowly working you. Letting the pressure build and fade as he saw fit— making you feel good.

You eventually come with a shaky sigh, your mind completely melting away. He holds you up, letting the warm water wash over you a few minutes more. You were spent, you were tired. The shower stops. Miguel wraps you in a towel and carries you to the bed.

He sets you on the mattress and gently runs the towel over your body. He cradles your leg, kissing down the length of it as the towel wicks away the beads of moisture. He does the same with your other leg and your arms. He takes his time, giving attention to every part of you. You watch him as he does so, feeling your heart race faster with every gentle touch.

He said he would take care of you. He said he wanted you to feel good.

When he finishes you hold each other's gaze for a moment. Both still completely naked, you now dry and him still sopping wet. It was a little ridiculous, but you’d never felt more comfortable around someone in your life than with this lumbering man kneeling at your feet.

He stands eventually, running the now useless towel over his damp hair. “I should—”

“Stay,” you reach out to him, grabbing his wrist. “Stay with me tonight. Please.”

He pauses, looking down at you. You can’t help but feel so small and meek under his gaze. He’d just unspokenly catered to your every need and now you were begging him to sleep with you. Pathetic, maybe, but you don’t fucking care. You just didn’t want him to leave— and you don’t think he does either.

He closes his eyes with a small smile, “Alright. One moment, please.”

He disappears back into the bathroom to grab a fresh towel and comes back out dry with a pair of black briefs on. You curl under the crisp white covers as he rounds the other side of his massive bed. The lights dim as he crawls in next to you. You roll onto your side and he pulls you into him. You feel his steady breathing against your back and it sends a wave of comfort over the normally buzzing spider-sense. He was so close. You were in his bed— with him.

“Miguel—”

“Shhhh,” he hums, resting his chin just above your head, “Duerme querida.”

You close your mouth, opting just to enjoy the rare moment with him. The feel of his body completely engulfing yours. His thumb tenderly rubbing comforting circles against your stomach. His alluring, amazing scent. Everything— just everything about him right now. You commit it to memory and lock it away.

You were in deep shit.

__________

Déjame cuidarte: Let me take care of you Te tengo, está bien: I’ve got you, it’s okay. Duerme, querida: Sleep, my dear.

And of course, do correct me if any of this is wrong!

I could think of literally no other way to get our Arañita in his house other than some dramatic near death experience, okay

_________

Taglist:

@ineedgarlicbread @pinkiemme @thesilenthill @bontensbabygirl @fallenangelsongwolf @raerorigel @littlefreakymunson @viriexo

@w33ni3

#miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #across the spiderverse #miguel x reader #parallels fic

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drurrito · 6 months

Text

I wrote this fairly quickly bc my crim prof is painfully hot and I am suffering as a result. All mistakes are mine.

Pairings: LawStudent!Reader x LawProfessor!Wanda

Warnings: like one cuss word lol -- reader's age is not specified and neither is Wanda's at this point -- if you want to be a K-thru-JD, be my guest.

----------------

You’re staring at the heavy wooden door in front of you. Your eyes trace over the markings, this building is your favorite on campus because of the architecture. It was once a grand library in the late 1800s and now it holds most of your 1L classes. It’s also home to the office of your Criminal Law Professor whom you’re supposed to be meeting with in a few seconds.

You let out a long exhale as you stare at your watch. You try to ignore how sweaty your palm is as you clench your hand into a fist to knock on the door.

“Come in,” your professor’s voice is calm, with no hint as to why you were summoned to her office in the first place. It came through an email yesterday afternoon after class. You blinked at your screen while your friends teased you about being in trouble.

Are you in trouble?

You step into her office and she’s sitting at her desk writing something down.

“You wanted to see me, Professor Maximoff?”

“Yes,” she sets down her pen, “can I get you anything? Water? Tea?” She gives you a warm smile that would normally disarm anyone but it only makes you stiffen with nerves.

“No thank you, professor. I’m good.”

“Sure," she leans back in her chair and gives you a serious look that makes you flinch, "what did you think of the lesson yesterday? Any questions?”

Did she really call me in here to talk about yesterday’s lesson?

“No, professor, none that I can think of. Inchoate crimes seem pretty straightforward,” you nervously nod and her lips twitch into a smile.

“I look forward to reading your analysis on it for tomorrow’s discussion board then.”

“I’m just about done with it,” you breathe, it was the truth. You know you won’t see your class ranking until after your first year of law school but it seems to already be obvious to everyone that you’re top of the class. It’s not by luck, you've always had to work harder than everyone else to get where you needed to be. It does help that you’ve wanted to go to law school since you were a child. Now that you’re here, everything just clicks.

“Y/N,” Profesor Maximoff’s voice makes your eyes snap to hers. Her usually bright shade of hazel eyes are now much, much darker.

“You’re a good student, you know that right?"

That makes you clear your throat, “thank you, professor, I’m just trying to make the most of this opportunity — it’s pretty busy at times.”

“You must be too busy to realize how you come across as well.”

“I’m sorry?” You have to ask to make sure you heard her correctly.

“You realize this is the first time you’ve held eye contact with me for more than three seconds?" She crosses her arms and that makes you tense even more.

“You’ve been counting?”

“At some point, yes. It’s like clockwork," she unfolds one arm to frame her face and you can't help but appreciate her jawline and the perfectly manicured finger that's tapping away at her cheek.

You have to look away and take a breath. You feel like an idiot for having such obvious tells. Of course, if Sam and Bucky can clock your nervous habits, Professor Maximoff can too.

“You don’t let your eyes land on me for too long, they bounce around the room a lot, like right now.”

Your eyes fall on her again, but this time you make it a point to hold it for as long as you can physically bear it.

“I’m sorry, Professor. I’m not rude, just shy at times. I can see how that comes off as standoffish.”

“It’s okay,” she gives you a nod with a smile. It’s the same combo she gives during her lectures. You only know this because you’re its number-one fan. Your jaw reflexively drops but you quickly pick it back up before she notices.

“You know,” she slides out of her plush leather chair and saunters out from behind her desk, “at first I did think you were just rude.”

She shrugs for a beat before stepping closer to you, “but then I think about how often you hold the door for me.”

And closer.

“And how you say ‘good morning’ or ‘good afternoon’ whenever you pass me on campus.”

And closer.

“Now, it all makes sense.”

Your cheeks begin to burn, you want to step back to give her space but she’s already a breath away from you by the time your brain can form the idea.

“Y/n.”

“Yes, professor?”

“Do you like me?”

Fuck.

She asks it so innocently you almost forget where you are. You're not two people casually exploring each other's fascination with one another. You're not on some kind of date, she’s your professor and you’re just a 1L. She watches your throat squirm as you swallow. Your mouth is now bone dry.

“I…it’s--just a little crush, yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, professor,” you respond so quickly and she hums in praise. Something pulls deep in your belly but you don’t have any time to figure out what it is before Professor Maximoff speaks again.

“Just a little?”

She leans impossibly closer to you. Your eyes don’t have a single corner to escape to, your breathing is shallow and sporadic.

“Yeah.”

She doesn’t correct you this time and you can’t help but feel a heavy pang of want. You watch a smirk stretch across her face and you feel like prey that’s about to fall victim to--

“That’ll be all, y/n—please close the door on your way out.”

She backs away before you do, turning on her heel to sit at her desk just the way you found her.

You stand there dumbly nodding for a moment. She subtly raises an eyebrow in your direction and that’s when your limbs begin to move towards the door. You quietly shut the door behind you before slumping against it, air filling your lungs once again. You shake off whatever you're feeling and head home, still trying to wrap your head around what just happened.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #marvel fanfic #works

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foreverdolly · 2 years

Note

Hi I have a request! Can it be something were Austin and the reader are at one of his events and she gets injured? Like maybe twists her ankle, I think it will be adorable!

oopsie daisy

word count: 2,487

warnings/notes: austin tries to protect you from journalists and paparazzi, he get's big time mad when one of them get's a little too close to you, you two being couple goals, this was super sweet and comfy for me to write.

masterlist | requests are open for business !

You looked hot as hell, but felt ridiculous. The bodice of the gown you were wearing was practically suffocating you, and it didn’t help that Austin’s stylist for the event had insisted that you wear heels so that the height difference between the two of you didn’t look too polarizing in pictures. You hadn’t minded the shoes too much at first, but that was then and this? This was now. You and Austin had been walking around the event for an entire hour, posing for pictures and speaking with interviewers. You had been with the actor for a while now, so this wasn’t your first rodeo. You didn’t hate events like this. . . you just didn’t particularly like them. Austin felt the exact same way about it. He couldn’t stand being the center of attention for too long; it made him feel a bit nervous. Tonight was certainly no different for the both of you.

“I’m sure you’ve been getting this all night- but you look stunning, y/n.” The interviewer gestured towards you with the microphone, and you couldn’t help but smile. You sure as hell hoped you looked good. You felt like bambi tottering around in your heels. Austin tightened his arm around you ever so slightly, pulling you further into his side. He could tell by the look in your eyes that it was growing harder and harder for you to walk.

Austin had noticed your discomfort earlier on in the night, but just ten minutes ago had offered to find you a place to sit down for a few precious minutes when it became apparent that it was beginning to become unbearable. The two of you had been in the process of escaping the main room, just a few feet from the hallway, when an interviewer for E! Magazine had caught up to you both. “Why thank you. You’re looking pretty dapper yourself. I’m really liking the velvet tie.” You tried your hand at making some small talk, smiling nice and pretty for the camera.

The journalist was quick to place his hand over his tie, almost as though he forgot that he was even wearing one. “Well thanks! You’re the first one to actually notice it’s textured.” He chuckled softly before turning to face the blonde at your side. “So fans are taking to social media, freaking out over your upcoming release. You had to grow your hair back out for the important role. You’ve had it so many different lengths and styles over the years. How long do you prefer to keep your hair?” Austin smiled down at you for a brief moment, knowing just how you felt about his long locks, before leaning in a little closer to the mic so that he could answer. “I like keeping my hair shorter than this,” He pointed to his head, biting his lip softly as you reached up, tucking a long strand behind his ear. “But this one doesn’t mind it,” he gave your side a squeeze, his smile widening as you chuckled softly. “ So I guess that’s all that matters. It sucks having to actually do something to it every single morning though. I don’t know how most girls have done this their whole lives. It doesn’t help that I’ve been blowing through my shampoo like crazy.”

“Well before I let you two go, I just wanted to extend my congratulations along with everyone else’s over at E!. I saw the engagement photos that you two posted last week, and we’re all just so excited for you. Your love story is one of my favorites, so I’ve always made it a point to keep up with you both. That Open Door episode you two did with Architectural Digest three months ago? I watched it the second it was posted. I adore you two,” You and Austin’s smiles widened. “How’s the ‘fiance’ life been treating you two?” Austin’s cheeks, without fail, began to flush, the corners of his eyes scrunching up adorably as he grinned. This year's Grammy ceremony might as well have been one great big engagement party. You’d never been so fawned over or celebrated in your life. It never lost its shine though, and you could tell that this question in particular was Austin’s favorite one of the night to answer. “Oh it’s been amazing. I’m still pinching myself, just to make sure I’m not dreaming. You’d be surprised by how many times I’ve had to catch myself though- I’m so used to referring to y/n as my girlfriend.” He’d only done it a couple of times, and had been overly excited to correct himself. “Everyone’s been so genuinely happy to see us move on to that next stage in our lives. I can’t wait. I didn’t think that I’d be the type to get so excited over wedding planning, but it’s been really great.” The two of you were already throwing dates around, wanting to be able to get married as soon as both of your busy schedules allowed it. The two of you didn’t see the point in waiting any longer than you already had. You both didn’t need a huge, gaudy wedding. Hell, the two of you would have happily eloped if you didn’t think your friends and family might get their feelings hurt.

“Were you nervous that she could possibly say no or. . . ?” Austin raised his brow at you, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction. The corner of his lip tilted up into a smirk before he tore his eyes off of you, shaking his head. “Not at all. I know that’s probably going to make me sound so cocky, but no. We would have gotten married a week after we first met if we didn’t think that our families would have killed us. After two years of dating it just felt right. It wasn’t her potentially saying no that made me nervous, but the pressure of making it special.” Unbeknownst to you, him and his best friend, Ashley, had spent weeks planning the perfect proposal. His dad had been the one to drive up from Anaheim to help his son go ring shopping. Imagining the lanky man nervously going jewelry shop to jewelry shop, trying to find the one that would best suit your tastes, warmed your heart. Especially when his father texted you the day after he popped the question, saying that they had been out for hours looking at rings.

After wrapping up with his latest project, Austin had planned a nice camping trip for the both of you. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for him, and he had played it off as just wanting to decompress after so much stress. You thought absolutely nothing of it, so it had shocked you when he had pulled the ring out of his pocket. You had always joked around with him, saying that you wouldn’t be surprised when he finally proposed. The two of you, over the last few months of your relationship, brought up marriage daily. It had never been a “what if” kind of conversation, rather a “when”. You had been shocked though. And you had also cried, which had been majorly embarrassing for you, but had resulted in him tearing up a bit as well.

“Thank you both so much.” The two of you nodded your thanks, Austin keeping his arm firmly planted on your waist. You attempted to take a step forward, but your sore ankle gave out. You didn’t have enough time to react, and so your foot twisted unnaturally to the side, pain instantly shooting through your entire leg.The room was far too loud to be able to hear anything, but you felt something pop. It took everything inside of you not to let out a small shriek in pain. Your eyes teared up though, and you were quick to bite onto your tongue, your grip on your fiance’s blazer tightening tenfold. Austin had felt your weight buckle and had reacted immediately. He kept his hold on you firm, his bicep tightening around you as he supported your weight with one arm. He was trying to not make it look obvious, and you couldn’t thank him enough. Your dress was long enough to completely hide the mishap as well, and you could only pray that the pain wasn’t too obvious on your face. Cameras were practically blinding the both of you as journalists relentlessly attempted to get pictures of the newly engaged couple.

If you had actually fallen on a night like tonight? You would have never heard the end of it. You’d be the laughing stock of every celebrity gossip website on the internet. Most of Austin’s fans adored you, but there were some of them that would absolutely love to see you bust your ass at an event like this. With the initial public humiliation avoided, all you could focus on was your pain level. . . and it was intense. Had you broken it? You wouldn’t be surprised. The heels were so incredibly high, and you weren’t used to having to walk in something like this for such a long period of time. You looked up at him with wide eyes, and his face softened, his other arm moving to hold you against his chest in an attempt to hide your face. You could hear more cameras clicking behind you like crazy and see the flashing lights on the wall behind you. “Are you hurt?” He whispered nervously into your ear, rubbing your back up and down in soothing circles. You nodded softly, blinking back tears as you tried to put weight on your foot, wanting to see if there was any way you could walk your way out of there. “Oh god.” Austin muttered as he heard your soft cry. No. . . no, there was no way you were getting out of there without any help. Before you had time to ask for any kind of assistance, Austin was already bending down, keeping one hand on your waist, and the other one moving to the back of your knees.

“Austin! Austin! Look this way for me!” “y/n! You look beautiful! Let’s see the ring!” “Adorable! Pose for us, please!” The photographers were eating it up like rabid animals, leaning forward as they all tried to get the perfect picture. Austin held you tight against his chest, carrying you through the room and out into the hall. The second that the cool air hit you, you felt like you could finally breathe. “Hospital? Do I need to take you to the hospital?” Austin was a visible mess now that there weren’t paparazzi to worry about. The panic in his voice made your eyes burn. “I don’t know. I felt something sort of pop, and I’m in a lot of pain. . . “ He was breathing hard as he carried you out the front doors, groaning softly as more photographers began to approach, flashing pictures. You buried your head into his neck, shielding your eyes from the blinding lights. “Are you leaving, Mr Butler?” You heard the valet manager ask from his spot at the podium. “Yes. Can you please grab it for me? Quickly?” Austin stood there impatiently, holding you against him as the cameras continued to flash. You could feel his heart pounding hard against his chest.

“Hey, back up! You’re getting too close!” Austin snapped suddenly, tucking you even tighter against you and taking a step back.

“Sorry, man. We just want to see the ring.”

“Well you don’t have to press against her like that! I don’t like that, so don’t do it.” Austin shot back. You could hear the sound of a car engine approaching, and Austin was quick to push his way through the crowd the best that he could.

“I’m going to put you down so that I can open the door for you, alright?” You nodded, your nose brushing against his throat as he eased you down onto the sidewalk. Austin opened the door for you and then took a step back, moving to stand behind you in order to block any of the photographers violating attempts. They only continued to try and move around him, and with a sound of obvious annoyance, Austin boxed you in with both arms, using his body as a shield until you shut the door. He was in the driver's seat in a second, driving off before he even had his seatbelt buckled. “Am I driving home or to the hospital, baby?” You could see the pulse jumping in his neck, his blue eyes wide and frantic. He used his left hand to grip the wheel, his right moving out to find your own. He intertwined your fingers together, giving your palm a soft squeeze. “I’m so proud of you for holding it together during all of that. I’m just so sorry that this happened. . . I should have gotten you out of there sooner .” You used your free hand to dig through your purse, searching desperately for your phone. If you could see the damage, maybe then you’d be able to make a decision. If it was just a sprain then you two could head back home and just try to pretend like none of this ever happened. You turned the flashlight on, shining it on your foot. You tried to twist it from side to side to get a good look, and the second you did? You nearly fainted. Austin pulled up to a red light just in time to be able to see the damage as well.

“Oh god,” You breathed, nearly dropping your phone. It was already beginning to swell, and it was very clearly not just twisted.

“Hospital! Hospital! Alright. . . okay. . . that really just happened.” Austin practically screamed, dropping your hand to place both hands on the wheel. The cars behind him laid on their horns as he switched lanes last minute, speeding down the onramp.

You had ended up breaking your fibula that night. The two of you had been ushered into a private room the second one of the nurses recognized who you both were, and you were thankful for the privacy. After the pain meds had kicked in, you actually felt like you could laugh over the ridiculous situation, what with the two of you sitting in the dingy Los Angeles hospital, both of you decked out in full blown formal-wear. Of course something like this would happen to you.

Austin had made sure to document the moment, snapping a few embarrassing photos of his own. Your personal favorite being a selfie of him, your ball gown-clad body looking ridiculous and small in the background, curled up on the hospital cot.

The best part of the night? The Uber Eats he had ordered the second the both of you got home.

That and the fact that Austin had insisted on signing your cast.

@bookklover23 @medleyj @idkwhattthisisss @dharnwjs @slutforsomegoodlettuce @crackerbarrelslut @macey234 @nightfiress @keepdrivingrr @melodydior @luvvrrrrr @mymamalife @wwebby657 @shynovelist @ssstrangersblog @harrysthecraic @hangmanswhore @jyvnho @alqvarde @bcofl0ve @mslizziesblog @ggxsan @screaching-cookie @fantuhsise @areuirish @hxllvely @lelifesaver @milaa24 @meladollsims @poppet05 @shrekstheloml @randomwriter888 @idc123sworld @vane28282 @mirandastuckinthe80s @girlblogger2002 @rockerchick05

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angelisgonnastartchangingurls · 1 month

Text

richard, on a monday

richard was becoming annie's favorite patient. he didn't like that word though. "client," he said. "i consider this an investment, you know? it's all part of the mindset."

richard was wealthy, a self-made businessman, CEO of a decent-sized local software firm. annie had heard of him before because he was often popping up in mental health circles -- he was a strong advocate for it. annie had read a few of his linkedin posts before he'd sought her out.

richard's backstory was that his wife had died of breast cancer pretty young, and he'd gone to therapy and became a convert. the dead wife stuff was long past him now, but he made a point to continue his therapy, and, he told annie, keep it visible on his calendar, visible to all employees, to encourage them to seek therapy as well.

when he'd come to her, annie had briefly assumed richard just saw lots of younger female therapists, but in fact, his longtime therapist, a man, had retired. annie couldn't find any red flags.

and she really loved talking to him. he was a good talker, very self-analytical and sometimes even too self-critical. but also funny, and observant, and curious. she learned a lot from his observations. it made sense to annie that he was successful in business. after their first session, he'd added her on linkedin, which annie was charmed by. she looked at some recent photos he'd posted from paris with a beautiful woman about her age, maybe a little younger, who seemed to be his daughter.

she learned in his second session that it was in fact his daughter, who was an artist and who lived in paris in a flat he paid for.

"that must be amazing for her," she said.

"and me," he said. "it's a wonderful thing to be able to do that for your daughter."

"what is her medium?"

"mostly photography," he said. "i'll bring you in some of her work."

he did just that next week, bringing in a folder of black and white film photographs in a file folder. annie looked them over. they seemed nice to her eyes -- maybe a little basic. landscapes, architecture, portraits. there was one she liked best -- a nude self portrait. she was quite pleased that richard would have such a thing, that his daughter would show it to him, and that he'd choose to show it to her. in the photo, she's holding the camera at stomach level, photographing herself in a dusty, full-length mirror in what looks like an old-school dressing room. she has a cigarette in one hand, her hair is messy, and she has a nice, thick, dark bush.

"your daughter looks very authentically french," annie observed.

"it's true," richard said. "she speaks french more than english, it's even drifting into her speech in english when she calls me. it's the place for her."

"she's very beautiful," annie said. "i mean, the work is beautiful too, but she's stunning."

"you remind me a bit of her, honestly." richard said. annie hadn't clocked much of a resemblance, really. they were both slim, tall, dark-haired women, but very different faces. "in personality, I mean," he said. "warm but professional -- clearly experts in your field. you have a more academic way of talking, of course."

"i do?" annie said, surprised.

" yes," he said. "well-read, erudite. i promise i haven't been analyzing you, it's just something i notice."

"you can analyze me," annie said, just a little flirty.

the picture of his daughter naked was on top of the folder on the table between them.

"it speaks well of you that she'd show you a photo like this," annie said.

"well, she's very french in that she's very open about her body," he said. "that's kind of new, just the last year and a half or so. i remember going over there to see her like three months in and you know, she was making dinner for us in vintage silk panties and a sweater, and just being sort of overwhelmed, you know, my daughter is now an adult, and also she suddenly reminds me of her mother."

"her body reminds you of her?"

"well, yeah," he said. he gestured at the photo. "i mean, same breasts. same hips."

"how did that make you feel, seeing it?"

"well, i guess it was kind of beautiful, you know, her mother's legacy."

"did you tell your daughter that?"

"yes."

"what was her reaction?"

he laughed. "she took her clothes off."

"really?" annie said. "like right then and there?"

"she was only in the lace panties and the sweater, and they were both thin enough that -- i mean, i could see the bush already, you know? but she took them off."

"what were her intentions there?"

"i'm not sure exactly," he said. "i think it was sort of... i think she was really grateful for the life i had given her, and sad that her mother was gone, and sort of wildly embracing stepping into that role."

"what did she do exactly to step into that role?" annie said.

he laughed. "nothing happened," he said. "but she climbed into my lap and straddled me and hugged me.

"that's sweet," annie said. "and a little fraught."

"absolutely," he said. "it was definitely vaguely sexual."

"daughters who have fathers they admire..." annie mused. "yeah i mean, there's no escaping it. it can be sexual."

"do you admire your father?"

"very much so," annie said. and then laughed.

"so you speak from experience?"

"experience of those feelings? absolutely."

"not the experience of getting naked for your father."

"well, my father sees me naked," annie said. she could feel her skin heating up from talking about her own naked body in front of richard. "but if he told me I reminded him of my mom I think maybe I'd be a little offended."

"you don't have a great relationship with her."

"not at all," she said.

"why do you think that is?"

"honestly? when i developed and became a woman, she kind of froze me out. i'm very open and communicative with my father and brother and almost never speak to my mom."

"that's too bad," he said. "for her, i mean. it's on her to make that effort."

"you and your daughter talk often?"

"we email on the days we can't facetime."

"dads love facetime," annie said.

"we like seeing your faces," he said.

for some reason, annie told him the story about her dad and the ipad. they were over their time for the day but she liked talking to him.

"that's cute," he said. "honestly my daughter has answered my calls naked more times than i can count."

"i like that," annie said. "i like that trust and honesty. even if for her there's a slight freudian slant."

he chuckled. "yeah, i like it too."

"has she ever seen you?" annie asked.

"you know, when in france," he said. "she has a pretty open flat, the shower is not in the bathroom, there's really not much of an enclosure for it, just glass."

"VERY european," annie said. she told him the story about alice and her father on the nude beach -- not referring to alice as a patient, just a friend. she embraced this minor ethical lapse as central to her style.

"funny, you know, i was just wondering like, am i the only dad in the world with pictures of his adult daughter naked on his phone?"

annie laughed. "you're not! and do you mean her photography or other stuff?"

"she also sends me selfies," he said. "you know just casual photos of herself around the flat. she's often not wearing much, or just nothing."

"that's unusual," annie said. "but not bad, i don't think. kind of nice. very intimate."

"i like the intimacy of it, too," he said. "and you're like that with your father?"

"totally," annie said. "i feel very safe and open with him, i tell him absolutely everything."

"i feel like my daughter is pretty honest. i think she tells me everything."

"does she tell you about doing drugs?"

"yes."

"and about people she's sleeping with? i don't necessarily mean sexual details but is she not obfuscating the fact that she's fucking them?"

he laughed. "yeah, she tells me."

"then she's telling you everything."

"that's nice to know. it's kind of like having a little spy camera inside my daughter's brain, talking to a woman like you."

"if my dad wanted a camera in my brain i wouldn't object to it," she said.

annie thought about that when she got home, lightly reconsidering. she was very horny and very stoned and was rather enjoying the way robbie's eyes followed her as she walked around the apartment in nothing but a thin pair of white panties. at one point, she followed him into the bathroom and playfully held his cock again while he pissed.

"you're very frisky tonight," he observed.

"i had a good session with Mr. CEO today," annie said. "i have a big crush on him."

"you want to go jerk off about it?" robbie asked. "i could cum."

they went to the bedroom, and annie put porn on the TV. she slipped off her panties and hopped onto the bed and watched robbie pull off his jeans. his cock popped out, already hard. he laid down and started stroking himself, looking over at annie, rubbing her clit. neither one of them was looking at the TV. "you're so hard," annie cooed at one point. he just chuckled and kept stroking. with her free hand, annie toyed with her right nipple. she gathered spit from her mouth and rubbed it across her nipple. "you have such great fucking tits," robbie said.

"you wanna cum on them?" annie invited.

"seriously?" he said.

"i'm so horny don't make me ask for things twice," annie said.

robbie moved to his knees, his cock inches from annie's face.

"god it's so big," annie said. he shot his cum on her. she felt it hit with a warm splatter and immediately started to cum. "oh my GOD" she said. he unloaded several ropes. when he was done, annie looked at the drop of cum still at the tip of his cock, sat up, and sucked once at the head of his cock, feeling the cum on her tongue. robbie laughed. "wow," he said.

"i told you i get even hornier when i cum," annie said.

"you came too?"

"the second your cum hit my skin," she said. "i would literally do anything you asked me right now."

he laughed. "good," he said. he got up and left her on the bed. "you look good like that," he said. he got his phone from his pants and took a picture of annie on her bed with his cum all over her breasts. she smiled for him.

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