jo i fucking love you- i did like three of those requests and forgot about them then you posted them and i was 🙌🙏🙏😳🧎 you draw levi so well omfg 😭 you’re amazing and i hope you have the best day ever
Ivy!!! Oh.My.God!!!
PLEASE! I'm SO glad you liked them (:
wohfowhefohwe
(I still don't know how to reply TO SUCH KIND WORDS AAAAAHHH….geez)
THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH <333
bf!sunghoon × fem!reader.⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀where your meticulously planned birthday surprise triggers a series of unfortunate events and leads sunghoon to believe he's losing the love of his life.
CONTAINS ➤ 4.3k+ words. downbad!hoon & bf!hoon aka: E404!sunghoon. fluff. angst. just softness all around tbh. hoon is sweet n he overthinks a lot n is highkey obsessed wit u. jealousy. pettiness. hurt & comfort, kind of. one (1) sexual joke. jayke duo shenanigans. written kind of rom-com style. (there was an attempt.) requested here. not proofread.
➤ MAIN MASTERLIST. ┆ EPILOGUE MASTERLIST.
𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨.ᐟ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 ♡
you loved surprises.
you loved getting surprises, you loved being a part of surprises. you were the type to enjoy the thrill of building up a secret and chasing after the adrenaline high that comes when it's time to pop the poppers and lay the surprise out.
but organizing one, especially at a scale bigger than what you were used to, was admittedly a challenge—and you knew that. so you started planning it out since as early as you can.
your meticulously organized spreadsheets and to-do lists? hidden away in a grouped tab on your laptop. the gift you brought for sunghoon? delivered to your brother's apartment. communication with your co-conspirators? only via private texts. strictly no groupchats.
his best friends, your best friends, his family, your family, both of your close friends from uni—you made sure everyone was on track and given daily updates just so sunghoon wouldn't be able to catch on.
"i can't believe i have to be stuck to my laptop, researching how to make a giant tiramisu cake, when i could be using it to finish my schoolwork before the holidays." jiwon grumbles from the couch, another quiet grumble leaving her lips with each angry smack of her fingers against the keyboard.
"will you leave her alone? she's already stressed as it is." gaeul reprimands, shooting the younger one a glare before tilting her phone towards you. "Y/N, what about this kind of set-up? i think it matches sunghoon's style pretty well."
"what?" you half-yell, eyes squinted as you lean towards the tiny screen with your own phone pinned between your ear and your shoulder. "wait i'm talking to my br— oh, n–no. not you. i was talking to my friends—no! it doesn't have to be a fancy airbnb, i don't want us to be a burden to you—no, i didn't mean it that way, don't sulk—yeah. okay, fine. i'm sorry, hannie. and thank you. i'll text you back, love you!"
"Y/N. stop trying to do so many things at once—your phone's going to fall into the batter!" gaeul squeaks, catching your phone just in time before it could slam against the counter that's already littered with various powders, cooking utensils, and bowls of icing in different shades of sunghoon's favorite color.
"what do you mean? i'm, like, a multi-tasking queen." you giggle, looking over her phone's screen before shooting her a quick thumbs up.
jiwon walks over, scooping a dollop of icing on her finger and sticking it in her mouth. "mmh– multi-tasking queens don't look like headless chickens running around, babe. are you sure you have to do this? you can give sunghoon a store bought cake and he'd be happy, you know. he'd throw himself at your feet thanking you, too."
"if you want him to be extra extra happy, maybe you could throw in a blowjob at the end of the night or something." gaeul adds, her eyebrows wagging up and down.
"please don't say that when i have cream all over my hands." you groan, a pout forming on your lips as you stick your whisk into the bowl. "i just… want him to have the greatest birthday ever. i want it to be memorable. sunghoon always turned his nose up at surprises, but i know it's because he's never been thrown one before."
your friends were right.
when it came to sunghoon, you could stick a tiny candle into a cupcake and call it a day—but the thought alone of doing the bare minimum for him was extremely repulsive.
sunghoon, as silly and goofy as he seems to be, is such a sweet and caring boyfriend. sentimental. the type to have a little notepad to mark the dates of whenever he experienced something new with you or jot down tiny details that you carelessly slip into casual conversations.
he's trustworthy, supportive, and attentive to your little whims and needs whatever they may be so it was only right for you to reciprocate that energy and give everything you have to the one day that celebrates him and him alone.
you pull one glove off of your hands and turn to your laptop, checking off the things you had accomplished today.
talk to the the catering company? check. contact seyoon so they could clear their schedule on his birthday? check. rent an airbnb for the party venue? check.
all that's left to do is to wait for your party packages to arrive and set it up on d-day.
and to make sure sunghoon stays in the dark throughout all of this—but that's easier said than done because while you were a master at organizing surpries, you weren't exactly the best at lying.
you've been running out of excuses after days of repeatedly turning down his offers to go on dates.
gaeul and jiwon had your back, so you mostly told him you'd be hanging out with them—which isn't technically a lie considering they were the ones helping you plan—but as oblivious as sunghoon was about smaller things, he took his quality time with you very seriously.
and you knew full well that once his boyfriend instincts start kicking in, there would be no force able to stop it.
with the big day coming right around the corner, you can only hope that jay and jake are holding up their end of the deal of keeping him distracted.
tap tap tap tap.
the short and consistent drumming of feet echo against the heated floors of their shared apartment, sharp rasps only softened by the thick layer of fuzzy socks you gave sunghoon a month earlier when he dramatically complained about his toes hurting from the cold morning air.
he's spaced out, staring into nothing as his two friends go about their weekend routine: jay making a cup of coffee and jake huddled into the end of the couch, laptop perched on his thighs with a thin blanket wrapped over his shoulders.
"are you sure there's no snowfall yet? it's fucking freezing in here. i feel like i could make a snowball if i exhaled hard enough." jake complains in a whisper.
tap tap tap.
"well i told you to go to the building office and complain about their broken heating panel. but you didn't, so deal with it." jay replies with a roll of his eyes, one hand lifting his mug of coffee up and the other fiddling with his phone.
tap tap tap.
"and i also told you that i found the lady there very scary and intimidating and she wasn't—"
tap tap tap.
"—she wasn't very accommodating to–"
tap tap tap.
jake took a deep breath in, trying not to mind the growing loudness of sunghoon's foot before finally snapping, shooting the pale boy a glare. "will you quit it with that?! we're trying to have a conversation here!"
his words fell on deaf ears as sunghoon continued to gnaw on his already cracking lips, only breaking his empty stares to look into his phone.
his eyes would zone in on the name of the sender and when he sees that the notification was from anyone else other than you, he'd sigh, put his phone face down against the arm rest, and continue his sad, pathetic routine.
still irritated from having endured a week of sunghoon's foot-tapping, jake breaks even further. "i swear to god, park sunghoon. freak allegations be damned, i am going to tie your ankles to my bedposts and make sure you and your large ass feet finall—"
"i think Y/N doesn't love me anymore."
jay damn near spits his coffee back into his cup. "genuinely what the fuck are you talking about, sunghoon?"
"i think Y/N doesn't love me anymore." he repeats with that same tired tone and those same sad eyes. "i think… she might have fallen out of love with me. she's probably too nice and can't bring herself to break up with me and that's why she's giving me the cold shoulder."
jake's cheeks puff up before he covers his mouth to muffle the oncoming giggles. "are you sure this isn't the seasonal depression kicking in?"
"no, bro! i'm serious! lately… her replies have been taking too long. a–and whenever i see her friends in the hallways, they're giving me the side-eye like they know something i don't. she has a million reasons why i can't hang out at her place and she's been hanging out with this new kid from her communications class—" sunghoon keeps on rambling, his voice turning more frantic the more he reasons he lists out.
"i know something's wrong and i want to fix it but i don't know how i'll be able to fix it if i don't know what's wrong in the first place! it's like the winter break fight all over again."
slowly, jay puts his mug down on the counter with a quiet clink.
while sunghoon is partially distracted by a text on his phone, jay takes the opportunity to mouth 'fix your face' to jake. the puppy-like boy clears his throat and stares at his laptop's screen, specifically at the little gray bubble from his messages with you where you've relayed that you were going to be testing out cake recipes with the girls tonight.
"m–maybe she's just busy, finals season being around the corner and all." jake forces out a laugh to lighten up the atmosphere. he's sure he isn't doing a good job of hiding the mixture of worry and surprise in his face because he hears jay click his tongue from the other end of their living area.
"you're watching too much relationship tiktoks, bro. the girl made you and your little photography club sandwhiches, didn't she? Y/N wouldn't do that if she fell out of love with you. don't overthink it too much." jay smoothly adds, walking over to sunghoon to give his shoulder a pat.
sunghoon mulls over his friends' words, and they do soothe him for a bit. he reads over the text message again.
from: angel. — pengoooo !! :( i'm sosoosososo sorry to flake last minute but nicholas asked me to meet up today to finish our project
from: angel. — yk miss kwon's really strict with her deadlines right? so we decided we were going to submit it early just to be safe. but i promise i'll make it up to u once my sched's a bit more free. ily, hoonie :3
sunghoon's fingers tighten just a tiny bit around his phone.
she loves me. Y/N loves me. nothing's wrong. she's just busy.
he lets those words run through his mind like affirmations until his body relaxes and for once after a very long week, jay and jake are afforded a quiet afternoon without sunghoon's anxious habit drumming against the backdrop of their conversations.
sunghoon's scarf is loose around his neck as he walks the familiar cobblestone path.
you said you were swamped with schoolwork and paper but he had to. he just had to. there was no way he could keep wallowing in his own miserable bubble so he decided he'd try once more to attempt to close that distance.
despite jay and jake wanting to keep him company—weirdly more than usual—by dragging him to a movie theater, there's no replacing the fun and comfort he feels whenever he's around you. and considering the space you've put in between yourself and him, he doesn't find it shameful to admit that he hasn't been a well-functioning adult since the beginning of the month.
so he ditched them and sneaked out of their little bro date to walk over to your apartment and surprise you at home.
ding.
the elevator's metal doors slide open and before he could step in, he sees nicholas. the new classmate of yours.
the jealous grip he has on the fresh bundle of bright red camellias tighten for just a moment as he steps aside to give him space to exit.
"hey, man. sunghoon, right? Y/N's boyfriend?" nicho's grin is bright as he holds a hand out.
so he knows she has a boyfriend. sunghoon stands a little straighter, giving him a curt nod but he keeps his unoccupied hand in his pocket. just to be petty. "sure am. what's up?"
"oh, i just came from Y/N's apartment." the other chuckled awkwardly, clearing his throat before pulling his hand away. "we were supposed to meet today to do our project but i guess she isn't home? she isn't really replying to me either, so if you could do me a big one and text her for me, i'd really appreciate it."
it takes a moment for nicholas' words to process properly. "didn't you already meet up with her during the weekend? she even told me you finished the project that same night."
"no? the project details weren't given to us until yesterday."
sunghoon's heart drops to his feet. there's no way you'd lie to him, and even if you did, he knows you had the most valid reason for it.
that must be it. you probably had so much to do that you texted him the wrong name.
sunghoon's eyes drift to his lockscreen, a picture of you, and he wills himself to give a soft, albeit resigned, laugh for nicholas. "ah, i must have confused you with one of her other classmates. i'm so sorry about that. don't worry, i'll let Y/N know you came by."
"he's not answering his phone—" jay mutters, circling around the living room while repeatedly answering his phone.
"well you should've kept an eye on him! what if he saw Y/N out there? then the whole plan would've been a bust!" jake quietly screams back, head in his hands before it flicks over to the front door when it slams open, making the already frantic duo flinch.
"what the f— sunghoon, where did you go? we said we were gonna catch that movie together and then you just fucking bailed on us?"
sunghoon takes a deep breath in, tugging his scarf off his neck with brows pinched together. "i went to Y/N's apartment."
jay and jake both freeze in their spots, eyes wide, breath held in. they flash a quick look at one another then silently watch sunghoon remove his thick winter wear.
"and i think she's lying to me."
jake gawks, heart thumping wildly in his chest at the thought of the surprise getting revealed a day too early. "w–what makes you say that?"
"saw her project partner. said he hasn't met Y/N yet when she told me that they already finished their project. dunno." sunghoon answers with a shrug, voice clipped and far too calm which is even more unsettling for his best friends. "i'm heading to bed, guys. g'night."
the doors to sunghoon's room slams close. jay and jake huddle together, screaming at each other in whispers.
"this is soooo your fault." jake accuses, nervously fiddling with the ends of his hoodie.
"mine?!" jay gasps. "you were the one who told me to buy us food in the cinema! what were you doing anyway?!"
"the girl at the ticket booth was hitting on me, i didn't—"
"and you getting laid is far more important than the deal?! now sunghoon's sad and Y/N's gonna be upset at us too!" jay replies with wide eyes, fingers poking at jake's chest before they both slowly turn to look at sunghoon's door.
"fuck. the guilt is killing me alive."
and it's eating at you, too.
you arrived back home after hours of driving around town, bags of supplies in hand only to be greeted by a bouquet of vibrant flowers in front of your doorstep.
while replacing the last flower arrangement in your vase with the new one, a card slipped out from behind the stems.
"camellias bloom during the coldest months of the year, bright and resilient, just like my angel.
hope you're staying strong through those projects. i miss you.
— sunghoon."
guilt flashed through your chest, condensing into a thick lump at your throat that you found too hard to swallow back down. you wonder for a second whether this was the right way to go, and you get an overwhelming urge to call sunghoon and confess everything.
but d-day is so close and giving in now meant wasting months of your, and everyone else's hard work. all of those white lies wasted in vain.
so you suck it up. because tomorrow's the day and you're going to make all the trust that sunghoon put in you worth it.
as the final act, you leave sunghoon a short and vague-enough text.
to: pengoo. 🐧 — "hoon!! i know i've been real busy lately, but can you come meet me tomorrow? there's a lot of things i wanna talk about but it's best that we do it in person. i'll send you the address in the morning so drop by there at around 11am, k? good night!"
what looks to be a normal to you, however, couldn't be more devastating to sunghoon. reading the message made the rocks in sunghoon's chest feel even heavier.
no hoonie. no pengoo. no i love you.
this is it. she's gotten the courage and tomorrow she'll break up with me and leave me for good.
he reads it over again and again like the letters would rearrange themselves into a plausible explanation for your lies and your odd behavior, but it doesn't. all it does is affirm his ugly thoughts, sending him deeper into a spiral.
with a deep breath, sunghoon rests his forearm over his eyes and lets out a shaky exhale. he knows tomorrow wouldn't be much kinder, but at least he'll have his answers and that's okay with him for now.
people stepped through the doors one by one. sunghoon's friends from the photography club, boys from the basketball team, some close juniors and classmates, and finally sunghoon's family came through the doors with your own.
it couldn't be more perfect. the modern bungalow house looked unassuming from outside but as soon as he steps in, he'll see the kitchen island full of the dishes he's been craving, a table full of gifts, big and small, from everyone he held dear in his heart.
the living room is decorated with cream and brown balloon arches, foil curtain backdrops with flags spelling "happy birthday sunghoon!" that you stayed up all night trying to make yourself.
"you really gave your all on this one, huh?" heeseung smirked, throwing an arm around your shoulder as you both looked at the decorated walls with pride.
"couldn't have done it without everyone's help." you reply as you lean against him, flashing the rest of your circle a grateful smile.
you clap your hands together to grab everyone's attention. "okay, everyone. he's supposed to arrive in a few minutes so get into your positions!"
the party nods, the tassels of their pointed party hats shaking along with it, making you giggle. everyone quietly huddles in the dark, waiting in silence until three knocks come from the front door.
you slowly open it with a bright smile, an excited squeal already at the top of your throat but the sight of him makes the plan slip out of your mind.
sunghoon's nose and cheeks were dusted with a pastel pink color from the cold air biting his pale skin. his lips are chapped, looking like he had been picking on the dry skin of it all night, and the dark blue tint on his undereye from not having slept properly only adds to the sadness of his orbs when you look into them.
before you can ask him what's wrong, he lunges forward, eyes screwed shut, the cool tip of his nose pressing against your pulse as he breathes in your scent. "i know... i know you're gonna say it, but p–please. please, just let me hold you one last time."
stunned, you wrap your arms back around him, side-eyeing the small crowd of people who are watching the both of you with bated breaths. "s–say what, hoonie?"
it's then that he leans back, arms tight around your waist, still unaware of everyone else's presence in the room. "say that you—" he takes in a deep breath but his words trail off at the sight of balloons scattered all over the tiled floors behind you. "—what's…?"
you bite back a laugh at his adorable confusion and flash heeseung the signal before screaming. "happy birthday, sunghoon!"
the lights turn on and the boys pull on the poppers, confetti fluttering down between the two of you like cherry blossom petals during spring. everyone starts hollering and surrounding sunghoon with his sister putting a "birthday boy" headband on him and people beginning to sing in unison.
"happy birthday to you! happy birthday to you! happy birthday, our sunghoon. happy birthday to you!"
"make your wish before you blow it out!" seyoon reminds her brother with a wide smile. jay hands over the oversized tiramisu cake you made the night before, candle already lit and you push it in sunghoon's direction.
an array of emotions runs throughout him at once.
his mind is stuck but his body moves on autopilot, shaky hands gripping on the plate. he closes his eyes shut before blowing the candle out, commencing another round of loud cheering from everyone.
amidst the loud noise, sunghoon's teary eyes meet your own and he quietly mouths. "i love you."
you mouth it back with a proud smile.
the airbnb is peaceful aside from the soft noise of paper being ripped cardboard boxes being thrown to the floor.
you're lying stomach down on the bed to recover from a long and tiring day, and sunghoon's on the floor unwrapping his birthday presents one by one.
you hum a soft tune with eyes still glued to your phone. "seyoon just texted. auntie says she wants us to come with them when they visit the christmas village in myeongdong."
no response.
"hoon?" you lift your head up just in time to see your boyfriend wiping away his tear-stained cheek, torso turned away from you.
"oh, y–yeah sure. tell her we'll be there."
you're quick to shuffle to the floor beside him, wrapping your arms his bigger figure. "why're you crying, baby? birthday blues?"
"no, no." he laughs weakly, sniffling with his head hung low. "i just really wasn't expecting a surprise and it's all hitting me now."
"yeah, the boys were laughing at you earlier because you forgot your own birthday."
"i had a lot of things in my mind." sunghoon pulling on your arm so you could sit on his lap.
"good things or bad things?"
"half and half."
you wipe the remaining tears clinging on his long lashes, looking into his eyes with a raised brow.
sunghoon sighs and looks away, cheeks turning warm again. "i— i t–thought you were.. leaving me for good. a–and that you only called me today to break up with me."
like a routine, you take a moment to stare at him before erupting in a fit of laughter. he just squishes your cheeks together and groans before hiding his flushed expression on your neck. "i caught you in your lie, angel. i met nicho in your apartment lobby. the.. t–the night i left those flowers. and he said you've never done your project."
"and instead of suspecting that i was doing it for your birthday, you thought i was—"
"cheating on you?"
"cheating on me."
you pull back to see sunghoon even more flustered than before, turning pink down to his neck with fingers that fidgeted on his shirt's neckline before he sputters out his reasoning. "you were ignoring me! i—i've never been away from you for that long since our last fight, a–and i thought you found someone cooler than me that's why you were lying and avoiding me and then you said you wanted to talk so i thought—"
you cut his ramblings off with a gentle smack on his head. "you know i wouldn't do that. ever."
"i do, i do— b–but i just—" sunghoon purses his lips together, feeling that familiar prickle and itch spreading in his throat again. "i trust you. and i'm a rational person b–but when it comes to you, i just get so in my head and worried and anxious that all logic just escapes me."
you cradle his cheeks and sunghoon leans against the warmth of it, his eyelids fluttering shut. "i'm sorry, hoon. i do think i took it too far. i just wanted to give you the best birthday."
"oh, it is." a smile breaks on his face, his arms quickly engulfing you in a tight bear hug. "this is the best worst birthday i've had."
you smack his broad back, huffing. "hey, i prepared a lot to make this memorable!"
"oh, it's memorable alright." he teased.
you just roll your eyes and snuggle closer, fingertips pinching the ends of his hair. "what did you wish for anyway?"
sunghoon leans back and looks into your eyes, a gentle finger coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ears. "nothing."
"nothing?" you repeat. "you only get one birthday wish a year and you wished for nothing?"
he just shrugs and leans in for a chaste peck, once on your lips, then on your forehead. "the heavens blessed me by returning you to me after so many years, and you're all i could ever really wish for. it might think i'm being too greedy if i ask for another thing."
"—that, and i already opened the camera lens you gifted me, so."
you groan and roll your eyes. "way to ruin the moment, sunghoon."
"you love me anyway." he chuckles, pressing his lips on yours.
"that, i do, park." you giggle against his lips. "that, i do."
YAN'S NOTES ➤ this request was in my inbox since july/august and i was intentionally keeping it there for hoon day. alas, i am still late. REGARDLESS!!!! happy hoon day. < 333 i love sunghoon with all my heart and soul. the writing on this one's a little messy n rusty because work has been rotting my brain but i hope it's good enough for y'all. as always, let me know what you think. < 3
can i request a steve fic where the reader has the same backstory as chrissy from season 4? like w her mom & the body issues n stuff like that. it doesn't have to be vecna related i just want to see how steve would react when he finds out or even defending her to her mom.
“Pretty Enough”
⋆⭒˚.⋆ Steve Harrington x reader ⋆⭒˚.⋆
english is not my language please be kind and sorry if i wrote wrong :) requests are open if you want!
Summary: steve realizes there’s a reason you never agree to dates involving food, and it leads back to your mother.
Warnings: Body image issues, emotional abuse/manipulation from parent, disordered eating themes, insecurity, comfort, mentions of restrictive eating habits
Steve noticed things.
Not right away, not in the beginning, when your relationship still felt new and dizzying and bright. Back then, he’d been too distracted by the fact that somehow you liked him back to pay attention to details beyond your smile or the way your fingers curled around the sleeve of his jacket.
At first he noticed how you always suggest other things instead: late night drives through Hawkins with the windows down, movie marathons in his bedroom, wandering through Family Video after closing while he dramatically narrates terrible horror covers. Once, he offers to take you to Benny’s for burgers after school and you smile too quickly.
“Maybe just milkshakes?”
So he says yes because Steve Harrington is your boyfriend and making you smile feels better than fries ever could.
Still, after six months together, he starts noticing patterns. He started noticing everything about you.
He noticed how you’d insist you already ate before he picked you up, how at parties, you held drinks in your hand but barely touched the snacks, you tear things into tiny pieces when he convinces you to share popcorn, the way every time he kisses your stomach, your thighs, your hips, any part of you softer than what magazines say girls should be you go strangely quiet after. Like you’re waiting for him to take it back, and of course how every compliment he gave you seemed to bounce off your skin like it physically couldn’t stay there.
“You look pretty.”
“Thanks,” you’d mumble automatically, eyes darting away like you didn’t believe him.
At first, Steve figured it was insecurity. Everybody had insecurities. Hell, he spent most of high school pretending he wasn’t secretly terrified people would realize he wasn’t as confident as he acted.
But this felt… different, because your eyes changed around food, not disgusted and not disinterested,but afraid.
And Steve noticed fear better than most people now.
“Okay, but hear me out,” Steve said one Friday night, leaning against the counter at Family Video. “A real date.”
You looked up from rewinding tapes. “We go on dates.”
“No, we hang out. We sit in my car listening to music for three hours.”
“That’s romantic.”
“It is,” Steve agreed. “But I’m talking dinner. Fancy-ish. Tablecloths. You makin’ fun of me for not knowing which fork to use.”
Your shoulders immediately tightened, Barely visible, But Steve saw it.
“Oh.” You forced a laugh. “I dunno, Steve…”
“You busy?”
“No.”
“You hate Italian food?”
“No.”
“You secretly think I look ugly in collared shirts?”
That got a smile out of you, soft and reluctant “Impossible,” you teased quietly.
“Then what is it?”
The smile disappeared, and there it was again.
Fear.
Steve’s stomach twisted.
“Nothing,” you said quickly. “I just… don’t really like restaurants.”
“Why?”
Your fingers stopped moving over the videotape “Can we not do this right now?”
Steve immediately backed off because something in your voice sounded sharp and fragile at the same time.
“Yeah,” he said gently. “Yeah, okay.”
But the question stayed with him.
It happens on a Sunday, the first time Steve met your mother
He’s at your house because your mom invited him for dinner, which should’ve been the first warning sign because you looked vaguely nauseous the second he agreed to come.
Your mother is beautiful in the terrifying sort of way. Perfect hair. Perfect lipstick. Perfect smile sharp enough to cut glass.
Steve tries to be polite. He really does.
By the time he arrived, you already look nervous. Too nervous.
You keep smoothing your clothes down over your stomach, tugging at your sleeves, checking your reflection in the hallway mirror every thirty seconds like you are preparing for inspection instead of dinner.
“Hey.” Steve touches your wrist softly. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you answer too fast.
Lie
The front door open and before he could say anything else your mother smiles at him instantly, bright and polished and fake in a way Steve recognizes from rich Hawkins parents.
“Steve Harrington,” she says warmly. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
“Uh, yeah, nice to meet you too, Mrs. Y/L/N.”
Then her eyes slides to you, the smile dim.
“Sweetheart, are you really wearing that?”
Your entire body went still.
Steve frowns slightly. “What’s wrong with it?”
Your mother laughs lightly like he’d made a joke “Oh, nothing serious. I just think certain cuts are… unflattering on her.”
Steve blinks, you immediately cross your arms over your stomach, and suddenly, everything start clicking into place.
Dinner is worse, way worse. Steve realizes it within five minutes. your plate has less food on it than everyone else’s, your mother watches everything you eat, every bite, every movement.
“Oh, honey, are you sure you want seconds?”
You’d immediately put the spoon down “I wasn’t… I wasn’t getting seconds.”
“Good, you know I’m just saying.” She laughs softly. “You said your jeans were tight last week.” she said absentmindedly, sipping wine.
Steve’s fork stops halfway to his mouth.
Your face changes instantly, not dramatic, not obvious unless someone knows you.
But Steve does know you. Six months of loving you means he notices every little thing.
The way your shoulders curl inward, the way your hand disappears beneath the table, nails digging into your palm, the way you stop eating immediately.
Your mother keeps talking.
“Honestly, if I looked like that at your age, I would’ve lived at the gym.”
Steve blinks. Like that? Like what?
You look beautiful, you always look beautiful.
Steve frowns at her her words because that is mean and isn’t something that a mother should say to her daughter
Then she adds, looking directly at Steve : “You know, I told her she should start running with me in the mornings again, she used to have such a pretty little figure when she danced.” She says, looking at you with a light sense of disgust
“Cheer uniforms are unforgiving, aren’t they?” She then laughs
Each comment lands like a slap, designed to cut deep inside you. Steve watches you shrink more and more into yourself with every sentence, shoulders curling inward, eyes fixed on your untouched plate. And the worst part? You act like it was normal, like you’d heard it a thousand times before.
Steve felt sick, and now all those little moments over the past months crash together in his head like shattered glass.
No dinner dates. Skipping meals. Flinching at compliments. The panic in dressing rooms. The way you once cried after trying on swimsuits and insisted it was “just hormones.”
“Mrs. Y/L/N,” Steve says carefully, “I think she looks perfect.”
Your mom gives him a tight smile. “That’s sweet, Steve. But girls should take care of themselves.”
“I do take care of myself,” you say quietly.
“No need to get defensive.”
Steve watches you shrink another inch, and something ugly sparks hot in his chest because this isn’t teasing.
This isn’t concern. This is cruelty wrapped in pretty paper until you’ve spent years believing you deserve it.
He sets his fork down “With all due respect,” he says, voice suddenly hard, “I think constantly criticizing your daughter at dinner is a pretty shitty thing to do.”
You look horrified, your mother looks offended. Steve doesn’t care.
“Steve…” you whisper urgently.
“No, seriously.” He looks at your mom directly now. “She barely touched her food before you started commenting on her body.”
“I’m her mother.”
“Yeah,” Steve says. “You are. Which means you’re supposed to make her feel safe, not ashamed.”
Your mother’s expression turns icy. “I don’t appreciate being spoken to like this in my own home.”
“And I don’t appreciate someone making my girlfriend feel terrible for eating.”
You stare at him, actually stare at him, like no one has ever defended you before. Maybe no one has.
Your mother scoffs. “You’re being dramatic.”
“No,” Steve says quietly, “I think she’s been taught to hate herself for a really long time, and honestly? That makes me sad as hell.”
Your eyes immediately fill with tears and Steve realizes then that he’s right. Not just kind of right. Completely right.
Your mother mutters something under her breath and stands to clear the dishes, clearly done with the conversation.
The second she leaves the room, you stand too abruptly, whispering, “I’m sorry,” before rushing upstairs.
Steve follows immediately, he finds you sitting on the floor beside your bed, arms wrapped around yourself so tightly it looks painful.
“Hey,” he says softly.
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“What? Defend you?”
“She’s gonna be angry.”
Steve kneels in front of you. “Baby.”
Your eyes stay fixed on the carpet, Steve kneels in front of you. “Baby.”
Your eyes stay fixed on the carpet.
“She’s always like that,” you whisper. “It’s whatever.”
Whatever. Like this is normal. Like hearing cruel things every day is just part of existing.
Steve feels physically sick, and his heart breaks at the sight of you
“How long?”
You shrug “Since I was little, I guess.”
His chest caves in, you laugh weakly. “I know it’s stupid.” You said try to minimize the situation
“Don’t.” His voice cracks sharply enough that you finally look at him. “Thats not stupid.”
“She just wants me to look nice.”
“You already do.”
“No, Steve, you don’t get it…” you said, voice trembling
“Then tell me.”
You stay silent and he waits, because he’d learned with you that pushing only made you retreat further.
Finally, barely audible, you open your mouth to say “My mom used to weigh me.”
Steve’s stomach drops “What?”
“Every morning before school.” Your voice sound detached now. Empty in the way people sounded when they were repeating trauma too many times to cry about it anymore. “If I gained weight, she’d stop letting me eat certain things.”
Steve feels physically cold.
“She said dancers had to stay disciplined. Then cheerleading too. She always said people only liked pretty girls if they stayed pretty.”
His jaw clenched so hard it hurt.
“She’d tell me my stomach looked bloated. Or my thighs looked bigger. Sometimes she’d leave magazines in my room with girls circled in them.” Your laugh came out broken. “When I was thirteen she told me nobody would love me if I got fat.”
Steve stares at you in horror. Thirteen. Jesus Christ.
“She still does it,” you admitt quietly. “Not the scale anymore but… comments. Watching what I eat. Asking if I really need dessert. Telling me I looked thinner when I skip meals.”
You look ashamed. So much ashamed. Like you are the problem.
He moves closer carefully, like you might break apart. “I get why you won’t go on dinner dates with me now.”
Your face crumples instantly, and there it is. Confirmation.
Steve thinks that hurts almost more than anything else, because you really believed he’d stop wanting you if you gained weight.
“Baby…” he whispers.
“I tried, okay?” Tears spill down your cheeks now. “I tried not to be weird about food around you.”
“You are not weird.”
“But every time we eat I can hear her voice in my head.” You wipe angrily at your face. “I feel guilty all the time and I know it’s insane”
“It’s not insane.”
“Hey.” His voice cracked. “Look at me.”
You did, you look at him and tears fills your eyes immediately. At that sight Steve’s heart brakes completely.
“None of that is true.”
You look away instantly. “Steve—”
“No.” He moves closer. “No, don’t do that. Don’t brush it off.”
“I’m used to it.”
“That’s not better.”
Your face crumples.
Steve had seen you cry before, but this is different. This looks like years of hurt finally splitting open.
“She’s my mom,” you whisper. “She’s supposed to care if I’m healthy.”
“That’s not health.” Steve’s voice sharpened before he softened it again. “Baby, being terrified to eat isn’t health.”
You start crying harder at those words and Steve immediately pulls you into his arms. You practically collapse into him.
“I just…” Your breathing shook violently against his chest. “I always feel huge. Even when I know I’m probably not, I just… I look in the mirror and all I hear is her voice.”
Steve shut his eyes hard because now he understand why compliments never stuck. Why you looked unconvinced every time he called you beautiful. Your mother had been poisoning your reflection for years.
You shook your head. “You’re gonna get tired of this.”
Steve looks genuinely startled.
“Tired of what?”
“Me.”
The answer comes immediately “Never.”
You break then, not loudly. That’s the worst part.
You cry like someone who learned a long time ago not to make noise about pain. Steve gathers you into his arms instantly, pulling you against his chest while you shake.
“I got you,” he murmurs into your hair. “I got you.”
You cling to him hard enough to hurt “She was right, though,” you whisper eventually. “I’m not pretty like—”
Steve pulls back so fast it almost gives you whiplash.
“Don’t say that.”
“But—”
“No.” His hands cup your face carefully. “I need you to hear me, okay?”
Your watery eyes meet his.
“I have never looked at you and thought you needed to change.”
Your lip trembles.
“Not once,” he says firmly. “I look at you and I think you’re beautiful. I think you’re funny and smart and stubborn as hell. I think I wanna spend every second with you.”
Your shoulders trembled harder.
“And not because of your body. Not because of cheerleading or clothes or any of that bullshit.” He pulled back enough to look at you properly. “I love you because you’re you.”
You looked shattered by the statement alone, Like nobody had ever said it without conditions attached.
Steve brushed tears off your cheeks carefully“I’m so angry at her,” he admitted quietly. A startled laugh escaped you through tears. “You looked like you wanted to fight her at dinner.”
“I did wanna fight her at dinner.”
That got a real laugh, it was small, broken, but real.
Steve kissed your forehead “She doesn’t get to decide your worth.”
“She’s been deciding it my whole life.”
“Then she’s wrong.”
You stared at him for a long moment and he could practically see the war happening inside your head, years of cruelty battling against someone loving you gently.
“You really think I’m pretty?” you whispered.
Steve looked genuinely offended “Are you kidding me?”
Another watery laugh.
“I mean it,” he said firmly. “I think you’re beautiful. I think you are the most beautiful girl. I think you deserve to eat whatever you want without feeling guilty afterward.”
Your face twisted again like you were trying not to cry “I don’t know how.”
That nearly destroyed him, steve held your face carefully.
“Then we figure it out together.” He said before kissing your lips in a gentle and loving way.
requested by anon ❥₊ ⊹
a/n: loved loved loved this request sm. it took a bit of an angsty turn at the end but i really hope you like it anon bb!
you hadn't planned on going to the party but rue had told you to pull up and ever since she'd gone off on yet another side quest you hadn't seen her.
"i don't know if this is a good idea," you said cocking your head to the side looking at yourself in the mirror. i mean, you looked hot. the kind of hot that only happened when you weren't trying too hard. but did you really wanna see rue? and a party? what were you, in high school?
"you're overthinking it," your friend hummed and maybe you were, but seeing rue always felt like stepping into something unpredictable. you never knew which version of her you were getting and lately you weren't sure she knew either.
the party was louder than you'd expected packed wall to wall with people who looked too comfortable in their skin. it made you cling to your thigh and tuck at the waist band of your tight jeans. the smell of alcohol and perfume hung in the air. you stood near the entrance for a second too long. scanning faces instinctively. searching for rue. nothing. nothing but strangers laughing and people leaning too close to each other in dark corners. god, it really was like being back in high school.
you headed over to grab a drink. mostly to have something to do with your hands while you searched for rue.
you spotted her before you even realized you were looking.
maddy. standing near the kitchen island like she belonged there. one hand wrapped around a drink. dark hair falling over her shoulder. not one hair out of place. she looked older but in a way that worked for her. what was that saying? aged like fine wine. yeah.. you were starting to understand it.
she had that same confidence that always made it feel like she knew something everyone else didn't. she was talking to someone but not really paying attention. her eyes lazily drifting around the room until they landed on you. you felt it immediately. that strange drop in your stomach. heat spreading.
you'd known maddy forever. long enough that crushing on her had become background noise when you were growing up. she was rue's friend. she was always around somehow. always pretty. always impossible not to notice. back then it'd been harmless.
you were so lost in a trance that you hadn't noticed her excusing herself before walking over. she stood in front of you. smile on her face. "i didn't know you were coming," she exclaimed. her arms wrapping around you so naturally. when she pulled back her eyes shifting up and down your body in a way that didn't feel casual at all.
"i didn't either," you chuckled a little. she laughed softly leaning against the counter beside you.
"you look good," she said. smile still big. you looked down at your drink suddenly aware of how close she really was. close enough you could smell her perfume when she moved even the slightly bit. warm. expensive. familiar.
you glanced at her. she was still watching you. lips curved slightly like she knew exactly what she was doing. it made you feel warm in a dangerous way like the alcohol hit all at once. it really made you question how long you'd been at this party. this was your first drink, but why did it feel like your fifth?
the music pulsed through the walls. people brushing past behind you but somehow everything around her felt quiet like a halo shining over her head. she shifted closer without making a thing of it. shoulder brushing yours. knee barely touching your knee when someone squeezed behind you. neither of you moving away.
you looked over at her. she wasn't smiling just gazing at you with those big brown eyes.
"still nervous around me?" she asked.
"was i nervous around you?" you laughed quietly. fuck, of course you'd been. you can't even recall the times your mom forced you to go somewhere with rue and maddy would show up all grace and beauty and sarcasm. certainly she'd seen you as nothing more than rue's little sister. well, little was a stretch. you were only a year younger.
"you always acted like you didn't like me," she pouted.
"that's not true," you shook your head.
"no?" she replied. eyes dropping briefly to your mouth. "could've fooled me." she shrugged pushing herself off the counter. your stomach flipped. the room felt warmer. you could feel the shift happening again. the subtle change where conversation stopped mattering as much as proximity. her hand brushed your arm when she reached for your drink. fingers lingering.
"what are you drinking?" she asked bringing your cup to her lips. she didn't take a sip just sniffed before putting it down. you weren't thinking about rue anymore. you weren't thinking about why you came or whether this was smart or how messy things could get. you were standing close to maddy. letting yourself get pulled into her.
"you wanna get out of here?" she asked.
the question came out casually like she didn't care what your answer would be but there was something in her eyes that told you otherwise. you should've thought of rue. should've remembered why you came but standing this close to maddy made everything else a blur.
"yeah," you said because what else were you supposed to say to maddy perez? it was always going to be a yes. there was no question about that.
she smiled slightly. not surprised but satisfied. she took your hand briefly guiding you out through the crowd. fingers warm around yours for only a second before letting go.
outside the cold air hit your skin immediately. you exhaled without realizing you'd been holding your breath. the noise of the party dulled. the driveway was dim lined with cars packed too close together. you followed a step behind her. watching the way her feels clicked softly against the pavement.
she unlocked her car and slid inside. you settled into the passenger seat shutting the door behind you as quiet filled the space between you. the air smelled faintly like old leather and perfume. it lingered stronger here.
for a minute neither of you said anything.
soft gold flickering over her sharp cheekbones and glossy lips. one hand resting loosely on the wheel while the other adjusted the music lower. something slow playing quietly. you looked at her longer than you meant. her lips pouty.
"you still stare," she said. eyes staying on the road. you looked away immediately feeling caught.
“i wasn’t staring,” you muttered and you didn't have to look at her to hear the smile on her face when she said 'you always did.' that made your stomach turn.
the city blurred outside the window. familiar streets melting into late night emptiness. you felt strangely calm sitting beside her.
her apartment, or rather studio, was nothing like you'd expected but entirely her. a little hole in the wall filled with traces of her life over the past few years. you looked at the only photograph she had tucked to frame of her mirror. her and rue. how peculiar.
"you want another drink?" she asked. just a few steps over and you were in her kitchen.
"um yeah. why not?" you replied and watched her smile over her shoulder. you leaned against the counter watching her move around the small kitchen. comfortable. familiar in her own space. she handed you a glass and your fingers brushed hers. this time your fingers were the ones to linger longer than necessary.
you moved toward the couch eventually settling into opposite corners. the conversations came easier than expected. catching up without it feeling forced. she asked about your job, your apartment, the things you liked now. things you hated. she listened closely when you answered. her hand resting on her arm propped on the back of the couch. you realized you couldn’t remember the last time someone listened like that.
you're not sure exactly how it happened but one of you shifted closer. then the other. then your knees were brushing. her leg tucked beneath her. her arm resting along the back of the couch now. the street lights glowing through the window.
you noticed when her gaze dropped to your mouth and her head tilted to the side exposing her neck. you noticed your eyes doing the same. the space between you hung heavy with desire but neither of you rushed through it.
until you made a move. your hand rested on her neck slowly tracing the curve of her jawline leaning closer without thinking. her neck extending towards you until she closed the gap kissing you.
the kiss was slow. careful like she wanted to know how you'd respond before taking more. your hand wrapped around the back of her neck pulling her closer until the distance disappeared completely. until her legs were pushing on yours.
nothing felt rushed. just slow heat burning low. her hands clung to your waist pulling you in a way that encouraged you to lay down. your bodies shifted until you were flush against the couch and her small frame hovered over your body. your lips still tangled in a kiss that only broke every few seconds so you could catch your breath.
the tight dress she'd been wearing rod up her thighs. she took your hands guiding them to her waist. you clung to it as she planted herself on your lap. the next few seconds were a blur of roaming hands and wet lips until you found yourself lying on her dark silk sheets. fingers spreading over the fabric grasping at whatever could ground you.
her eyes never left yours as her fingers curled under the straps of her dress pulling down so painfully slow you were dying with anticipation. the straps slid down her shoulders and she let go allowing it fall to the floor. you stared at the lacy fabric that clung to her skin. molding to every curve. her body truly a masterpiece of sharp lines and soft curves. the delicate slope of her shoulders. the plane of her stomach. you were somehow shocked that she still had her belly pierced. you remember when she showed it to rue.
she walked carefully towards you before sinking her knee into the mattress between your legs. her fingers curling around your thigh tracing up the fabric of your jeans until they were tiptoeing over to your button and zipper. everything felt like an insanely slow and painstakingly torturous ritual.
"please," you muttered lifting your hips. her only response a crooked smile followed by a lip bite. her lips crashed against yours and this kiss was nothing like the one on the couch. it was hungry and demanding. her tongue sliding into your mouth exploring and conquering. one of her hands slid up your chest until her fingers cupped your jaw.
the hand that'd been teasing at your zipped pulled on it with purpose. the sound impossibly loud in the quiet space. her fingers dipped inside the denim. brushing against the fabric of your underwear. you couldn't stop the soft gasp that escaped into her mouth. she swallowed the sound. the kiss growing more possessive as her hand explored the heat building between your legs. her thumb pressed against you through the thin fabric. a slow deliberate circle that made your hips buck.
her fingers hooked into your waistband tugging on your jeans and underwear giving you a silent hint. you shimmied out of them kicking them off the rest of way. she broke the kiss only to run her hands up the side of your body lifting your shirt in the process.
she settled between your thighs again. her weight a delicious pressure that anchored you to the bed. her hands roamed your body tracing the curve of your hips, the dip of your waist as one hand slid up to cup your breast. her thumb circled your nipple while her other hand returned to the heat between your legs. this time there was no barrier. her fingers slid through your wetness. a slow exploring touch that made your back arch, a silent plea for more. she leaned down. her lips hovering just above your ear. the sound of her breathing in your ear made you squirm.
you closed your eyes for a second and the next her mouth was on you. her tongue a masterpiece swirling around your clit before flicking. she built a rhythm that was slow then impossibly fast. always keeping you on the edge. you could feel the heat building in the pit of your stomach. a coil of pleasure tightening with every flick of her tongue. your hands found they way to her hair. holding her to you as you rocked your hips against her face.
"please," you gasped. "maddy, please." and she chuckled. the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through you. she looked up at you. those eyes so seductive and tantalizing. that was all it took. the coil snapped. waves of pleasure washed so intense washed over that. they were almost painful. you cried out her name as your body convulsed. your back arching off the bed. hands fisting the sheets. she didn't stop though. her tongue continued moving as you rode out the aftershocks until you were a trembling panting mess under her.
when she finally pulled away, she crawled up your body. she smiled. her lipstick faded but her lips still glossed. glazed with your arousal. her hair sat less perfectly than before but she still looked perfect. she radiated a glow. god, she really was an angel.
you pulled her down with all the strength you could muster. fingers curling around the back of her neck. your lips collided tenderly. you could taste yourself on her tongue. a reminder of the pleasure she had ensued. blessed you with. your hand traveled down her back. fingers fumbling with the hook of her bra snapping it open. the fabric hung limply between your bodies.
you pushed it away. your hands immediately touching nearly every surface of her exposed skin. smooth and warm beneath your palms. she shivered at your touch. a soft sigh escaping her lips as you pulled her closer until there was no space left between your bodies. your hands roamed as you kissed again.
"your turn," she whispered breaking the kiss. her voice husky with desire. she leaned forward. her breasts brushing against yours as she planted her hands on either side of your head. "show me what you've got," she purred. her lips curling into a wicked smirk.
you didn't need to be told twice. your hands found her hips guding her up until she was hovering over your face. knees on either side of your head. the sight of her so close and open for you was intoxicating. you pulled her down. tongue finding her slick in a single confident stroke. she drew in a sharp breath and you smiled against her. it was like a reward.
you lost yourself in the moment. completely consumed by her. everything about her...her taste...the way her thighs trembled. you explored her with your tongue. learning every ridge. every fold. every spot that made her gasp your name. her grip tightened on your head as you brought her closer and closer to the edge. when she finally came, it was with a shuddering cry. her body convulsing above you as waves of pleasure washed over her.
the rest of the night was a blur of tangled limbs and shared breaths. you moved together in a dance. a silent conversation spoken in the language of touch. you learned the map of her body. memorizing the constellation of freckles on her shoulder. the sensitive spot behind her knee. the way she arched her back when you bit down gently on her collarbone.
you explored each other with a hunger that was insatiable. a desperate need to make up for all the years you had spent wanting. all the moments you had wasted pretending you didn't.
hours later you laid tangled together in the mess of sheets. your bodies coated with sweat and satisfaction. she rested her face on her pillow. her breathing soft. you traced lazy patterns on her arm.
"you know-" she said, her voice a soft murmur against the pillow. "rue is gonna kill me." you froze. the mention of your sister's name was like a bucket of cold water. a sudden reminder of the world outside this room. "she's always been so protective of you," maddy continued. oblivious to the panic rising in your chest. "she'd have my head if she knew i was the one to corrupt her sweet little sister."
you couldn't help but laugh at that last part. corrupt? i mean did she notice what you did with your tongue? we were already halfway there.
"i don't think she'd see it that way," you said. your fingers resuming their dance on her arm. "she'd probably just be happy i'm finally getting laid."
maddy lifted her head. her eyes searching yours. there was a vulnerability there you hadn't seen before. a softness that rivaled the dominant woman who had just thoroughly ravished you.
"i'm serious," she said. her voice dropping to a near whisper. "she's been through so much, you know? i just...i don't want to be another thing that hurts her."
you looked at her, like really looked at her, and for the first time you saw past the flawless makeup and the carefully constructed armor. you saw the girl who had stood by your sister's side through thick and thin. the friend who had picked up the pieces when rue had been shattered. you saw the soft heart that beat beneath the tough exterior. the fierce loyalty that she so carefully guarded. it was a side of her you'd only ever caught glimpses of. a depth you'd never bothered to explore because it was way easier to keep her at a distance and categorize her as just rue's beautiful, unattainable friend.
but now lying in her bed, the scent of her perfume still clinging to your skin, you saw it all. it terrified you. this wasn't supposed to be anything more than a one-night stand. just a reckless, impulsive decision fueled by alcohol and years of unspoken attraction. a secret you'd keep tucked away in the back of your mind. but as you looked at her, as you looked at the vulnerability in her eyes, you knew this was something more.
"we should probably just…forget this ever happened," you said. the words tasting like instant regret in your mouth. it was a coward's way out. you knew that but it was the only way you knew how to protect yourself. protect her. protect rue.
maddy's expression didn't change but you saw the flicker of hurt in her eyes before she quickly masked it with a cool indifference. "right," she said. her voice flat. "just a one-night stand. no big deal."
she rolled away from you. sliding out of bed. you wanted to say something. to take back the words. to tell her that you didn't meant it. that you wanted this. that you wanted her, but the words wouldn't come out. you were a coward.
you watched her slide the robe over her shoulders tying a knot before lifting her hair over her shoulders. you just laid there. watching her move towards the bathroom. you knew you had to leave. to get out of there before you did any more damage.
you slipped out of bed. your movements slow. hoping and wishing she'd come out and say something. when you heard the shower head turn on, you sighed. searching for your clothes. as you got dressed, you thought about rue. would maddy tell her? you had to talk to her.
you knew you would see maddy again. you knew you would have to face her and the consequences of your actions...but for now all you could do was walk.
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you pay steve a visit at scoops ahoy and receive a kiss before you leave.
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: gn!reader. set in early season three. friends w/mutual crushes. one sweet kiss on the cheek. use of pet names (hon, angel). erica appearance!
masterlist ♡ requested
Starcourt is buzzing, whirling with crowds of teenagers high off their newfound freedom that is summer break, loud with laughter and the squeaking of sneakers. But once you reach Scoops, it's easy to spot Steve through it all.
He looks pretty like this, you think. Dark hair tucked in swaths beneath his sailors cap, cheeks flushed a light rose as he paces behind the counter, hands quick to move between different flavors with his scooper.
He looks up to hand over a cone, and sees you down the line. He brightens, grinning wide and boyish and nearly drops the double scoop of pistachio in his hand. The line moves up. A flurry of butterflies stir in your stomach.
You really don't come here often. It's much too loud and busy and not your scene, but it is Steve's, and you'd really like to be a part of his scene. You're starting to think that maybe he wants you here, too. His gaze flickers towards you again as he serves a gaggle of kids and ushers them away quick.
He really wants to talk to you.
He swipes his cap away and smooths a big hand through his hair, smiling at you all lovely like. "Hey, angel."
Something shiny and honey-sweet spreads through you at the name, and you desperately hope that he can't tell. You shuffle on your feet, cheeks puffing out as you smile.
Secretly, he thinks it's the cutest thing ever.
"Hi, Steve," you muse. "How's the day been?"
"Fine," he hums, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. "Better now that you're here. Did- you look good today. Like, nice. Pretty."
Warmth encircles your neck, a thrumming wave of heat. "Oh," you breathe. "Thank you. I- um... you like nice today, too."
Dark lashes kiss his cheekbones as he blinks at you, lips quirking and on the precipice of forming a smirk before he schools it.
"You've been staying cool?"
You nod. "'Course. As ice."
A short bout of laughter escapes him at that, much to your relief. He reaches to nudge your shoulder, so careful with his touch, before pulling back and tilting his head. He looks fond.
You hope he is, and the thought makes you feel about as dreamy as he looks.
"You want your regular? Rocky road?" He asks. "It's on the house."
"Oh, no, Steve. It's okay, I can pay-"
"I don't want you to," he insists, tone gentle and only for you. "Please. Let me, just once, yeah? Two scoops?"
It's impossible to deny him, with those gleaming brown eyes and pout. He's such a puppy. "Two scoops," you sigh, smiling even so. "Thank you."
He looks impossibly happier now, gazing at you like you're made of gold. "No worries, hon."
You're simply all aflutter, and there's no use in denying it. Your cheeks tingle and ache, partly from the heat stewing beneath them and mostly from the way you just can't stop smiling. He seems to be in the same boat, and the chaos of Starcourt ebbs into a still quietness.
It doesn't last long.
"Uh, hello?"
You know that voice, and you hear it every time you come by this place. A girl much shorter than you steps up to your side, brow raised as she taps her bright sneakers against the linoleum. Steve groans.
"Erica," you hum. "Are you... good?"
"She's fine," Steve chimes in then, frowning down at her. "I gave you a freakin' thousand samples earlier, Sinclair. Move along."
She rolls her eyes. "I want to get a cone now."
"Can you just wait in line, then?" Steve pinches his nose.
"I was, but you're taking forever up here," she quips. "Being all stupid and makin' googly eyes at each other... just kiss already. I need my butterscotch." Her last sentences are mumbled, as she walks away.
But you hear them. So does Steve, whose eyes are wide as he looks at you again. A kiss doesn't sound all too bad, you think, but it's dangerous, too. You could want hundreds more, and you don't have time for so many right now. Not with Erica looming just behind.
"Y'know," Steve begins, leaning close with his palms on the counter top. "She's, uh... impatient. And annoying. And doesn't really know what she's talking about."
You nod and swallow, fiddling nervously with your fingers.
Doesn't know what she's talking about, right. You're silly for thinking that maybe he'd want to kiss you. It's better as a daydream, a fantasy to think about when you're lying awake in bed at night.
"But," his voice is nearly a whisper now. "I kinda think it's a good idea."
Your heart stutters. "What is?"
"The... kiss. I think I'd really like to kiss you, but only if you want-"
"I do," you insist, words instant. "I... I'd like to. Please."
Steve is much closer now than he was before, and you're not too sure when that happened. His nose, faint with freckles, almost brushes yours.
He thinks you look more than nice or good or pretty, you look beautiful. Like an angel, he supposes, bright and sweet and much too lovely to be in a place like Hawkins. It takes a lot in him to refrain from kissing over you in flurries.
His thumb finds your chin, tipping your face gently to the side before his lips press soft and lingering to your cheek. When he pulls back after a stretching several moments, he's all red and flustered. The sight sends your heart spinning.
Erica is quick to return, in a hurry for butterscotch. She'll just have to wait a little while longer.
You still need your rocky road, and Steve isn't quite done looking at you, yet.
prompt: "I missed you." "I was gone for two hours."
summary: you love carmy, you love him a lot. you hate it when he has to leave.
warnings: fluff, fluff and more fluff, swearing
words: 1k
a/n: thank you so much for requesting @d3ad-aliv3 so sorry it's late!!! hope you all enjoy this one! xo
The first thing that you noticed when you woke up that morning was that you were alone in bed. You groan as you rub your eyes and reach out at the empty space beside you, pouting at the fact that your boyfriend wasn’t in bed with you. The sheets next to you were still warm so you knew that he mustn’t have been up long.
You hear the water running in the shower and you pull yourself from your warm cocoon to give him a piece of your mind for leaving you. As you reach for the door, Carmy pulls it open from his side causing you to stumble into his chest.
“Woah, hey there,” he chuckles, his hands on your shoulders, steadying you.
As soon as you looked at him, the complaints about him not being in bed died on your lips, all you could do was gape at him. He looked like a Greek God. He looked gorgeous with his tanned skin with water droplets running down his chest, disappearing into the towel he had wrapped around his waist.
“You okay?” he raises an eyebrow as he runs his free hand through his damp curls.
“You weren’t in bed when I woke up,” your words came out in a whine as you wrap your arms around his neck.
Carmy’s face softened as he pressed the sweetest kiss against your lips, “wanted to make you breakfast in bed,” he mumbles against your lips before pulling away. His face was flushed a pretty pink colour, high across his cheekbones.
“Let me get dressed and I’ll make you something, yeah?” you nod as you reluctantly let him go and watch him as he changes into a shirt and jeans.
As he stood at the kitchen counter, you wrap your arms around him from behind, hands running up his chest, feeling the firmness, you just couldn’t keep your hands off him. He chuckles and covers both of your hands with one of his, “you’re clingy today, huh?” you hum against his back in response.
“You want poached eggs and smoked salmon?”
You nod before realising he couldn’t see you, “yeah, that sounds amazing.”
“You want it on toast or an English muffin?”
You thought for a moment before replying, “English muffin, is that okay?”
“Sure it is honey,” his voice was so raspy in the morning and you loved it, you loved him, “hollandaise sauce on the side, right?”
“Uh huh, please,” you nuzzle into his back, making him chuckle, “you’re like a koala,” you could hear the smile in his voice as he started on your breakfast.
“You want me to back off?” you were always worried that you were being too clingy considering his problems with intimacy when you first started dating.
“Don’t you dare,” he mumbles as he passes you a glass of juice.
Carmy watches as you eat, just like he always does with his chin resting on his hand. He loved watching you enjoy his food, it was one of his favourite things. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. The food was delicious and you sigh happily as you lean back against the kitchen stool.
“So, uh,” he starts, making you look up at him and make a noise of protest as he snags a piece of salmon, “I gotta go to work for a bit, iron out some kinks.”
“Carmy,” you whine.
“Yeah baby, fuck. I know, I know, it fuckin sucks but I’ll only be gone for a couple of hours.”
“Why can’t Richie work out the kinks?”
Carmy laughs as he rubs the back of his neck, “er, Richie is one of the kinks.”
You nod in understanding. Carmy and his cousin had hit a rough patch recently. They were arguing constantly, putting strain on the restaurant and the other members of staff.
“Can I come with you?”
Carmy smiles as he holds your chin between two fingers and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips, his lips slightly chapped, “it’s gonna be real boring and it’ll be boiling hot in there. Are you sure that you wanna come?”
When you really thought about it, no you didn’t want to go with him. Not when he’d sit you in his office, bored out of your mind. You shook your head.
“No, I don’t wanna come. No offense.”
Carmy laughs, “none taken, honey,” he presses a kiss to your hair as he stands up to grab his keys and his jacket, “I’ll bring you some lunch, okay?”
You nod, “can you get some of those crème brûlée donuts from the pattiessiere down the street?”
Carmy cocks his head to the side like a puppy, “what about Marcus’ donuts sugar?”
“They’re real good but come talk to me when he can get crème brûlée donuts perfect,” you were a bad cook, you practically burnt water so you were in no position to speak to Marcus’ talents.
Carmy rolls his eyes with a snicker, “I’ll have words with him. Be good, okay?” you nod and then he was out the door.
Carmy had taken a step back from his duties with the restaurant recently so he was at home more. You’d gotten so used to him being home more regularly that you didn’t quite know what to do when he was at work and you had a day off.
You finally decided on putting a movie on, halfway through you got bored and restless so you decided on doing some laundry. He still wasn’t home by the time you were done so you decided to take a nap on the couch. Some time later, the door clicked open and you wake up with bleary eyes to see Carmy with his head popped round the door, his cheeks flushed and a little sweaty from the heat outside.
“Sleepy today, huh?” he teases as he joins you on the couch, fingers running through your hair.
You hum as you nod, pressing your head against his chest, listening to the thump of his heart. Carmy sighs in contentment as he leans back against the couch with you in his arms, “food is on the counter for whenever you’re hungry.”
“I missed you.”
“I was gone for two hours, angel.”
“Two hours too long,” you mumble making him laugh.
“I’m sorry I had to leave.”
“You’ll stay now, right?” you ask as you trace the tattoos on his knuckles.
“Of course,” he whispers against your hair, “I’m not leaving anytime soon, babe.”
Outer Banks Cast Reveals Uncomfortable Truths in the Hot Seat | Vanity Fair
Pairing: Drew Starkey x fem!reader.
Masterlist | Who am i? | REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
a/n: Been working pretty consistently on these so i thought i could spare some extra fics this week! I'm also working on other interviews you guys requested so here goes a quick one b4 it's requested 🙂
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: none
Word count: 0.5k
“Have you ever used your fame to get a dinner reservation?” the interviewer asked, panning the camera across the cast until it landed on you.
You nodded sheepishly. “Yes…but on accident.”
Laughter erupted around the room.
“What do you mean ‘on accident’?” Carlacia leaned in, eyebrows raised in disbelief.
“I actually tried to get her to do it for me on purpose once, it didn’t happen,” JD chimed in, pointing at you with a grin.
You nodded, ready to tell the story. “Okay, so I was on the phone talking to the very sweet young lady to make a reservation. I was meant to give a fake name, privacy and all that but I was just walking around the house, doing…whatever, obviously distracted and when she asked for my name, I totally blanked and gave her my real one.”
“You didn’t realize until she repeated it twice” Drew added, shaking his head with a smirk.
“Yeah…” you laughed. “She goes, ‘Y/n Y/l/n?’ and i’m like ‘Yup, that’s me.’ Then she says it again, like slower and I look over and Drew– I was with Drew –was just staring at me wide-eyed, silently mouthing, ‘Hang up the phone. Now.’ So, yeah…We ordered in and called it a day.”
“Attached at the hip,” Rudy muttered, barely above a whisper, making Chase burst out laughing.
—
“Have you ever looked at any fan accounts dedicated to you?” the interviewer asked next as the camera panned again, this time landing on Drew.
Drew reapplied without hesitation. “Yes, I've definitely looked at fan accounts dedicated to me. A hundred percent…I think we all have. Y/n sent me one dedicated to us,” he added, gesturing toward you.
“Listen, I don't know how they do it. They find pictures of us that I didn't even know existed! I’m starting to think they are photoshopped–”
“Like the one of you two kiss–” Madelyn started before dissolving into laughter with the rest of the cast.
You smiled, a little flustered. “I don’t know about that one…”
“We hate paparazzi in this house,” Madison declared matter-of-factly.
“That we do,” Drew mumbled, eyes cast down with a chuckle.
—
After a few more lighthearted questions for the others, the final one landed on you. “What is the most high-maintenance about you?”
“Oh, you picked the wrong person,” JD said immediately, making everyone crack up.
You glanced at Drew. “I don’t know…I feel like Drew would know better than I would.”
“Makes sense. You two spend a lot of ‘friendly’ time together,” Chase teased, emphasizing the word and sending the cast into another fit of laughter.
Drew shrugged. “Honestly? I’d argue you’re not high-maintenance at all.”
“There’s gotta be something,” you countered.
He thought for a moment. “Your meals, maybe?”
“Yup,” Madelyn chimed in. “That’s it.”
“Oh yeah! The make-it-from-scratch queen,” Rudy teased.
You laughed. “Okay, yeah. I have this thing where I crave food i’ve never had before or cooked and I’ll just decide to cook it or I get these really specific cravings days in advance. Like this morning, I had waffles but that decision was made–”
“Last week” Drew finished. The whole cast cracked again.
“It just had to happen,” you shrugged with a grin.
Can I please have some headcannons with the DRG1 Boys with a princess-e type reader? Like the reader is super sweet and kind and wears like Lolita type dresses :D DEFINITELY WITH MONDO CAUSE IMAGINE THAT WOULD BE SOOOO CUTE.
DR1 Boys with a S/O who's just like a princess
I LOVE THIS REQUEST TY. Here's the Mondo fancam.
Hi guys... Hehe... it's me... I gave up on proofreading this after Naegi's part so my bad.
Just watched nienie get 4esc as ivy while I was writing this so I hope the despair and sorrow didn't seep into my writings /j.
-Mod Souda
Mondo Oowada
❤ It would take him so so so long to ask you on a date, he's certainly convinced himself that somebody as beautiful as you would never be into a man like him. He's never met somebody that he was so scared of! He doesn't know what's worse: you rejecting him, or him seeing you with somebody else. And what if he's not even your type? You're so sweet to him despite all of his flaws. You hold no fear towards his brute attitude or his crimes. Do you really want a biker boy, or would you prefer somebody more charming? But you assure him, he is the most charming person you've met.
❤ He was so scared of pushing you away that he even tried to change his vocabulary. When you first started talking, he tried to start saying hello in an attempt to seem more 'welcoming' (you will never ever get him to answer your calls with "moshi moshi" instead of "yo", but you still try and manifest it). The kindness you have when you address him makes him insecure, he becomes inspired to have a friendlier attitude, one that is quite different than how he addressing everybody else, and all of his gang members take notice. Notoriously, whenever a pretty girl approaches him he instantly scares them off with his flustered yelling and aggressive tone. It genuinely only got worse when you don't back away. He doesn't do it on purpose, not at all, and he beat himself up constantly for it. He was both brash and reserved around you, which only made him cuter.
"Don't—" he stops himself immediately, restarting. "I would suggest that you don't do that."
You stare at him blankly, hairspray in your hand. The clueless look on your face has him subconsciously smiling.
"Why?" Do you not like it rings in your mind as a valid question but you know better. Of course he likes your style; your makeup, your hair, your clothes. He reminds you of such every day. It's something else.
"If you're gonna wanna ride the motorcycle then you won't be needing any of that shit. I'll fuck it up in seconds."
He's leaning on the bathroom doorway, arms crossed, imaging your impending fuss, efforts in hairstyle destroyed by high speeds.
You just hum, placing the hairspray down on the counter, the sharp clink amplified by the walls. "Then I'll just put it in my bag, I can do my hair afterward."
"Really?" It comes off sarcastic but you know he doesn't mean it, perhaps the tone he is looking for is something akin to surprise; anticipation.
A pretty-girl "duh" comes from your lips before you can stop it. He just shakes his head, raising his eyebrows and turning his head. "I-I mean, yeah, that'll work."
❤ Marry him. RN!
❤ Big dress while on the bike was a bit hard to figure out at first, he wanted you to have your hands secured around his waist but you always felt the need to hold the front of your dress down. He resorted to positioning himself so that he could sit on the end layers. In the end, you sat close enough to him that the front of the dress didn't even have the space to move.
❤ Imagine the shoe aesthetic/size difference sitting at the front door ommmggg.
❤ Him sitting on your pink decor bed, looking completely out of place.
❤ Insert quick online fame like those couples with the different aesthetics. Insert Pinterest fame.
x
Yasuhiro Hagakure
❤ Spends his money on you which you tell him not to do over and over but he is loose-handed and doesn't gaf. But he is buying things that he likes, lipstick shades that are his favorite. Whether this pisses you off or not is readers choice. Once he stops trying to convince himself that you are sent by one of his opposers as a lure (not that it had stopped him from talking to you), he worships you. "You should pay off your debts—" "Jeez, don't be like that, look at these shoes, aren't they beautiful?"
❤ Omgg imagine you get upset with him and he hits you with the "M-My bad, princess." He is classically unfamiliar with the means of courting or dating women beyond the basics, aka what he assumes are the basics, which is to pamper you. He lovesss giving you things, and not even simple things.
❤ You love the little -chi he adds to your name, it's the cutest thing to you, the friendliness was apart of the reason you stuck around to get to know him better.
❤ Palm reading just to hold your hand. Was even surprised you said yes. Effortless way of flirting? "Your palm is saying that you are extremely beautiful and smell very good."
❤ He loves his mother more than anything but he was so worried she'd start bad-talking him to you, and that that would make you want to leave.
❤ Hagakure telling his mother that you're upset with him and she says "go apologize" only for him to respond "with what?"
❤ He doesn't know what makes women happy but he tries his best. Probably resorts to watching chickflicks or something while studying like "okay, yes, this is the type of man women want, certainly so".
❤ Used his crystal ball to see how likely it was that you'd date him and fall madly in love. 100% certainty every time?!?! No way! Man, his 30% success rate is really shining now.
x
Byakuya Togami
❤ You are an eyesore amongst his colleagues. Surrounding by high society and generational money, you don't blend in at all. You're elegant in a different way, reeking off monarchy. It's also with how sweet you are when addressing everyone, no pompous laughs nor sly side-glances. Somebody straight from a fairytale has no business there. Byakuya Togami can't help but agree, though seeing you smile with kindness at the most arrogant people in his life is extremely amusing. Your elegant eyes and soft words are nothing compared to everybody else's monochromatic behavior.
His porcelain teacup, expensive than anything his peers had ever owned, was bland compared to yours. You sip on a pink-tinted cup that had gold ridges and a swirled handle, certainly not as expensive, but classier in a different way.
He eyes it every time you set it down. His instincts flags it as atrocious, something akin to little girl toy-ware, however, his heart flags it as just a precious item from his favorite person alive. He allows you the pleasure of spending quiet times with him, allows you the pleasure of placing your pastel pink teacup next to his because goodness him does he love you.
❤ Albeit "my culture is not your costume".
❤ Tying his tie before he ties your corset, a good morning trade-off.
❤ Omg wait it would so add to your aesthetic to have servants. Actual princess treatment.
❤ Second bullet point to emphasize actual princess treatment.
❤ Pink lipgloss on his cheek, an awfully sticky texture that he hates.
❤ A sweet smile that completely contradicts his permanent frown.
❤ Doesn't resort to obscene name-calling, but the bitter way he says your actual name is just as striking.
x
Makoto Naegi
❤ Oh man, you're way too pretty to be interested in him. He believes that you, beautiful and kind, can be with anyone you wanted to. Then why do you choose to be with him? Why do you cherish every interaction, gazing down at his fingers whenever you hold hands. The soft bat of your eyelashes, perfect and sincere—he gets all blushy, embarrassingly so, you when look at him like that. Bubblegum lips, laced sleeves, ribbons and bows, the traits that he never knew he would worship so deeply.
❤ Different aesthetic relationship where the man is dressed like a bum final boss.
❤ Resting your head on his chest when you're tired, him brushing the hair from your face. Your makeup-less sleepy face is so cute!!
❤ And you shower him with compliments more than he does you, the way he gets so nervous when he tries to find the right words for telling you how gorgeous you are. He is semi-naïve to your flirting I fear.
❤ He tries his best to find you gifts that he thinks you'll like!!
❤ Hits you with the "y-yes of course". If you bat your eyelashes and ask him nicely, he'll certainly do anything you want.
❤ Peep Junko referring to him as a "herbivore man".
❤ Awww if you can give empowering princess speeches then he'll be so in awe. Those are his thing!!
x
Ishimaru Kiyotaka
❤ Knight at your side! Always defending you, standing in front of you when strangers approach. Giving you soft eyes when you assure him that you'll be fine. There's no way he'll lecture you. You're the princess! You make the rules for a knight like him to follow forever. How can he be the leader when you are the most ethereal person he's ever seen in his entire life? You're so sweet to your darling knight. How could he ever do something as vile as telling you what to do?
❤ It makes sense, you two being together. There's no PDA, but the connection is there. Perhaps it's the way he stands by you, stiff as a board, eyes on the lookout for any danger. It gives off guard before boyfriend, but the way you look at him makes the dynamic clear. You'll drag him by the elbow if you see something interesting, and he stumbles a bit at your force before following you eagerly. A guard dog that quickly melts into a puppy.
❤ Deadass definitely didn't even realize you liked him, and be damned if you think he would disrespect his princess by making a move, how inappropriate!
❤ Lays his head on your chest when he's upset. You brush your hands through his hair and whisper kind words to him.
❤ Cries a lot! Teared up the first time you kissed him, and he tears up whenever you tell him you love him. He's so grateful and shocked that a pretty princess likes him! You try to tell him that you're not actually a princess but he won't listen. Of course you're a princess.
❤ I'm just imagining him giving you flowers sorry ts so random but it's a nice gesture that he had to ask advice from everybody ever. "are flowers okay?" "why wouldn't they be? bffr"
❤ He'd melt so hard if you call him pretty boy. I just imagine him on his knees, rubbing his cheek against the palm of your hand. Pretty boy pretty boy.
❤ "down dog" "woof!"
x
Leon Kuwata
❤ His princess that he keeps glued to his side. The thought of you draped over his lap, dress overflowing, shiny shoes hovering over the floor. Or him dipping you before a kiss, one of your heels on the floor while the other extends to a ballerina point, his hand fitting into the bend of your waist. He'll brag about you always, talking about you as if you aren't right beside him. He'll laugh with you, biting your cheek, squeezing your hand, playing with the ribbons on your corset as he leans his head against yours. And not to your surprise, he's just as egotistical and protecting when you two are alone.
❤ I'm so obsessed with the mental image of you with your nails done holding hands with his also painted ones. You'd outline the shape of his knuckles, feeling his joints, running the curve of your nail over it whilst he tries to sleep. With the rings too omfg.
❤ You singing to him with your lovely voice, cooing him with his own words. Cringe girlfriend singing boyfriend playing guitar.
❤ Do not get makeup on his white jacket. Huge gg.
❤ Sometimes he wears more eyeliner than you. It's charming, you prefer soft makeup, and the deep smudged eyeliner he wears is something you'd never touch.
❤ It does make him upset when you take too long to get ready. Not that he cares about being late,,, it's just the concept. All he has to do is put the aforementioned eyeliner on and rub it in, bam he's done. What's taking you so long? Is blending really that important?
❤ Really really tries his best to become a good boyfriend... succeeds... he is amazing. He covers you with kisses, never lets you carry in the groceries, and there's no way your pretty hands will take the trash out.
x
Hifumi Yamada
❤ Easily the happiest he's ever been. Not up for debate at all, delicate hands to hold, layers of lace to get lost in, shiny necklaces and sparkly shoes? All in a bundle of a person? And better, you like him. He doesn't have to go imagining a life with you together, he's actually living it. He gets to text you and have you respond, no way you actually respond! He saves all of the silly selfies you send, lord knows he has a photo album with hundreds of pictures of you (and a lot are from before you started dating, but shhhhh).
❤ His robust way of talking leads many astray, they avoid him at all costs. But you sit there by his side, actively listening to him talking your ear off, swinging your feet.
❤ Of course he'll put you in bunny ears. Of course you'll tell him you'll only wear them if he puts them on first. Of course he puts them on immediately.
❤ He cleaned his entire room and hid all of his magical girl manga when you asked him if you could come over. There's no way he'd let you perceive him as a bum, or worse, a fanboy. What he doesn't know is that you already see him as a bum and a fanboy, but that's what's so charming about him.
❤ In the rare moments that you're upset, your eye twitches and you upturn your nose at him. Is he supposed to feel threatened? It's just so cute to see you grumpy at him. He can't take you seriously when you scowl at him with a face of glittery makeup.
❤ Quite enjoys it when you're annoyed with him too. Top ten things he tries to hide but is blatantly obvious. You're never annoyed enough to lash out or say anything rude, but sometimes he ragebaits you with the intention of being able to hear those sweet insults.
❤ Pretty lipstick that refuses to come off of his pale cheek, the stain moving with his every smile.
x
Chihiro Fujisaki
❤ You will let yourself into his house when he's busy on his computer. He would be too locked in to pick up his phone and text you, and you don't want to distract him by calling. You just walk up to his front door, sorting through your various keychains until you find the key, and you're not subtle about opening his door. You turn on the living room lights, adding some life into the place. He'll be sitting in his bedroom in the dark, typing away, his light brown hair poking in different directions. The light from the hallway catches his attention. Your frame, the small smile on your face, makes him pull down the screen of his laptop just a little bit.
❤ It's the tone you use when you sweet talk him, it's so silky, so soothing. Nothing in the world could keep him too upset to bask in your comfort.
❤ He reads books digitally, but you like to put a physical in his hand and have him lay his head down in your lap.
❤ And the baking—the pink cupcakes that he carefully decorates with frosting, the light bit of sprinkles he'll add. When you eat them, you peel back the wrapping carefully, but be less careful when you take a bite. He swipes the frosting off your lips, tasting it on his own tongue. Delicious indeed.
❤ The silence doesn't bother you. He taps away at his desk (where you tell him to work instead of on the bed, that's bad for his sleep cycle [what sleep cycle?]). It's the sound that you lay in bed listening to, that makes you peak your eyes open just the slightest to see his form in the bright blue-light. It's peaceful.
❤ Peace is also in how he combs your hair in the morning, how he'll braid it or tie ribbons into it.
❤ And he certainly does look masculine when he's standing next to you.
