keith being so scared to break is the most heartbreaking thing to me. notice the way he hides his face with his hand when he’s about to crumble. how after his outburst and apologies he avoids direct eye contact with the camera on and off throughout the rest of the video. he’s trying so hard to stay composed. this is the same boy who fought countless members of the BOM and didn’t cry once, but being alone and talking himself into a corner, unwrapping himself even though it’s just for him… it’s too much for him. and that tbh.. speaks volumes for his character
In retrospect, Bitty should have been able to read the subtle signs.
Coach keeps his eyes trained on the TV even when the game cuts to commercial. One hand clutches the remote more firmly than usual, while the other does the same to his beer bottle. The wrinkles across his forehead become momentarily more pronounced.
But Bitty doesn’t notice he should be bracing himself until after it’s already happened.
“So. Your mama says you’ve got a sweetheart.”
Every major organ in Bitty’s body stops for a moment.
“She– What? I–”
“Well. She suspects. But you know how she is.”
Bitty swallows roughly against the desert wasteland his throat has suddenly become. It’s only the first week of his junior year’s summer break. He and Jack celebrated their one year anniversary a handful of days ago, making out like teenagers in the doorway to Jack’s old room for a few precious minutes before anyone could break away from the graduation festivities to come find them.
They’ve talked in loose terms about eventually coming out to people who aren’t a member of the Falcs or the SMH, but they don’t actually have anything resembling a plan.
Especially when it comes to Bitty’s parents.
“I don’t have a sweet–” Bitty starts, and stops at the single raised eyebrow his father shoots him.
“Mama’s wrong,” he insists anyway, breathing in deep and trying not to let his hands shake as he wrings them together.
His fingers itch to text Jack.
Coach tilts his head slightly to the side. “Could be,” he allows. “Thought you and I should have a talk either way.”
This is the longest commercial break in a football game that Bitty has ever sat through.
He purses his lips and furrows his brows. “Mama thought you should–”
“I thought,” Coach corrects easily, setting his beer down on the end table and then turning in his recliner to finally face where Bitty is curled up on the sofa. He frowns, lips thin and tight, eyes steady and assessing.
Then, after a lengthy silence: “Do you love him?”
The sharp breath Bitty sucks in nearly chokes him.
“What?” he whispers, voice ragged and harsh around what little air he can force from his frozen lungs.
The game starts up again. Coach’s hand squeezes the remote a little tighter, but he doesn’t press pause. And he doesn’t look away from Bitty. “It’s alright if you don’t. I won’t tell your mama either way if you don’t want me to.”
“You… But I thought she…” Bitty feels dazed, pulse pounding, and brain struggling to make sense of whatever alternate universe he’s somehow stumbled into.
“Junior, you know she loves you. No matter what, we both love you. And, again, she… suspects. But I wanted to talk to you first, before I go confirming or denying any of her late-night jam-making musings.” He sighs, and then lifts up the remote so that he can see the buttons well enough to hit Off on the first try.
“Do you love him?” he asks again, once the screen is dark.
Bitty swallows. Then nods.
One side of Coach’s mouth lifts into the beginnings of a rare, soft smile. “Good,” he says, as earnest as Bitty has ever heard him.
“Now. Enough of that.” Coach picks his beer back up and takes a swig as he turns back to the television set, hitting the power button once more so that the game comes back to life on the flat screen before them. “Just so you know, I’ve been keeping up with hockey as much as I can in the off hours, but it was a hell of a lot easier to do when an NHL prodigy was around to go through plays with me on the whiteboard in the den.”
Bitty bites his bottom lip against a smile.
“You still in touch with the Zimmermann kid?” his father asks. And Bitty’s smile collapses in on itself before it’s even begun. “Not that I’d expect you to be. But he’s the kind of athlete every coach dreams of, really. You’re lucky to have had him on your team.”
“…Yeah.” Bitty digs his nervous fingers into the meat of his own thighs, and resists texting Jack for just a few moments longer. Because when he does, he knows that their plans for the future will no longer be defined in loose terms. “I am.”
Summary: Y/N wasn’t planning on introducing Steve to her parents, but he had a plan of his own.
Warnings: I don’t think that there are any
Word Count: 1,386
A/n: I don’t think that this is that unexpected, but here we are, my first Stranger Things imagine. I hope that you guys like it, because I have a million ideas for this series! If you have any Stranger Things requests, please send them my way. Thank you to @secretschuylersister and @fragmentofmymind for reading this over. Also, here you go, @bullcrappery I hope that it lives up to your expectations!
Steve Harrington was standing on your front porch. He was in possession of one bouquet of flowers, one shit-eating grin, and a hunter green sweater that was tucked into his jeans. He was not supposed to be here. You’d specifically told him that you couldn’t hang out tonight, you were busy with family dinner.
Oh, god. You had told Steve about family dinner.
Steve had been asking about meeting your parents for months now, insisting that it was unfair that you had said hello in passing to his parents, but he had never met yours.
You blinked a few times, hoping that you were imagining him and that you could have a normal evening. But no, he was still there and if you waited much longer, he would ring the doorbell and you would have to explain this mess to your parents.
You threw the front door open, ignoring the smile on Steve’s face and stepping out onto the porch, closing the door behind you. “What are you doing here?” you asked, eyeing the flowers in his hand suspiciously.
“Well, you wouldn’t come over, so I thought that I would come to you.” He said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.
“You know that I am busy tonight.” you hissed, glancing over your shoulder, hoping that your parents would be too busy finishing dinner to notice that you had disappeared from the living room.
“No Steve, not actually. I told you that-” before you could finish yelling at him, the door swung open behind you. You held in a groan as you turned around to face your mother.
“Steve! I’m so glad that you could make it.” She said, ushering the two of you into the house.
“Actually, I ran into your beautiful mother at the supermarket earlier today, and she invited me for dinner,” Steve said, the condescending tone of his voice only apparent to you. “It smells delicious, ma’am,” he said, handing over the flowers.
Your mother fussed over them for a few moments, before announcing that she was going to put them in some water.
“You ‘ran into her at the supermarket’?” There was no way that Steve hadn’t planned this after you had let it slip that you had family dinner that night, and therefore couldn’t hang out.
“I had to pick up the bouquet somewhere.”
“You planned this.” you hissed, punching Steve in the shoulder.
“I had to. It’s unfair that you have met my parents, but I haven’t met yours,” he complained, sitting down in his usual spot on the sofa.
“I saw your parents in passing one time.” You said, pointedly ignoring Steve’s attempts to get you to sit beside him. “You are unbelievable, you know that?”
Steve simply chose to smile at you, and grab your wrist, pulling you into his side on the couch. “I’ve been told before,” he mumbled into the crook of your neck.
You weren’t proud of the smile that slipped through your ironclad resolve, but Steve was laughing and there was no way that you were going to escape from the situation anyways.
“Are you embarrassed of me?” Steve was so quiet you almost didn’t hear him.
“What?” You were almost sure that you had misheard him.
“You didn’t want me to meet your parents. I don’t know, I just thought that maybe-”
“Steve Harrington, you are absolutely insane.” You said, sitting up. You forced Steve to look at you before continuing. “My parents are embarrassing and nosy, and even though I love them, I don’t bring a lot of people home.”
“Are you serious?” Steve’s voice was painfully soft, and you could almost feel your heart shatter.
“I just, I didn’t want to scare you off.” You refused to meet his eyes, choosing to stare out of the window.
You felt Steve’s hand gently wrap around yours, and his lips pressing onto your palm. “Me? Scared? Impossible.”
“Yeah?” you asked, unable to stop yourself from smiling.
“Of course. I have my bat in the car.”
“You are such an idiot.” you laughed, snatching your hand away from Steve’s grip.
“Yeah, but I’m your idiot.” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his lap. “Nothing is going to scare me off, you know. You are absolutely stuck with me,” he said, brushing the hair that had fallen in your eyes away.
“Kids,” your mom called from the dining room. “Dinner!”
“I think that’s our cue,” Steve said, sliding off of the couch and offering you his hand.
You stood up on your own, shoving him slightly, before making your way into the dining room.
You had somehow managed to make it through a family dinner with no issues at all, and it was all because of Steve. He made your parents laugh harder than you thought possible, while calming you down at the same time. He had even offered to help your mother clean up. You could hear the two of them cackling from the living room.
“He’s sweet”. Your father said, pulling your thoughts away from the laughter echoing through the house.
“What?” you asked, sure that you had misheard him.
“The boy, he’s sweet,” he said, not looking up from the newspaper in his hands. “The hair is a bit much for me, but he clearly makes you happy. And that makes me happy.”
You smiled to yourself, glad that Steve had made a good first impression. Before you could think of a way to respond, Steve and your mother turned the corner. They were both beaming, and Steve had a container of leftovers in his hand (a true seal of approval from your mother).
“You drive home safely, now.” Your mother said, taking a seat beside you.
You hopped up off of the couch and looped your arm through Steve’s. “I’ll walk you out,” you announced, dragging him out the front door.
“Thank you,” you said quietly as the two of you made your way down the drive.
“For what?” he asked, leaning up against the hood of his car. He placed the tupperware down beside him and pulled you closer, wrapping both of his hands around yours.
“Being yourself, I guess. They usually hate my friends.”
“Well, that’s why they like me.” Steve cut you off, before you could explain further.
“What are you talking about?” you said through your laughter.
“I’m your boyfriend. Of course they love me.” Steve said with a grin before placing a kiss on your cheek and standing up.
“That’s all I get?” Usually, Steve spent a while saying goodbye, placing little kisses all over your face before one more on your lips.
“We have an audience, babe,” he said, shifting his eyes between you and your front window a few times.
You turned around to see your parents both hovering by the window. They at least had the decency to scatter once they realized that they had been found out.
“I can always make it up to you later. My parents won’t be back for a week,” he said with a cheeky smile, sliding into the front seat of his car.
“Maybe,” you said, closing the door behind him. “We’ll see.” You leaned down to kiss him goodbye properly as he started the car.
“Speaking of my parents, I told them that you would be coming to dinner next week.”
“I’m busy that day,” you said automatically.
“I never said what day.” he laughed, knowing that he was winning.
“I’m busy every day, Steven.” You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face made your facade less convincing.
“Next Thursday, at seven?” he asked, his hand reaching through the rolled down window to find yours.
You nodded, trying your hardest to hold the smile back and failing miserably. He held your hand as the car rolled out of the driveway, maintaining contact for as long as possible.
“I love you!” he yelled, as he drove away.
He was long gone before you managed your reply, too caught up in listing all of the ways that you loved him in your head. “I love you too,” you said quietly, before making your way inside, unable to suppress the enormous smile on your face.
Steve Harrington may have been an idiot, but he was yours.
I figure theyre not dating Theyre just super touchy feely ‘we havent realised what this is yet’ teenagers 'Dad this is my friend Prompto’ 'Your *friend*?’ Regis sees it and he smiles gently 'Its a pleasure to meet you, Prompto’
Draiad Draiad I love proms hand on his stomach
Kaciart Kaciart hes gonna puke on the king Execution is imminent 'No need to be so nervous son, here I am a father, not a king’ 'Noctis mentions you enjoy photography’ Noctis would beam
Draiad Draiad I like the Mentions not mentionED ie - he talks about prom a lot
Kaciart Kaciart yess 'I must show you a photo I have framed’ A candid of him and Noct fishing together when Noct was way younger Noctis loves that photo BUT Imagine to Prompto the KING of Lucis can make time to be with his son He doesnt have any pics of him with his parents 'Thats beautiful…’ And he means it but theres a bittersweetness to it all the same
I know we all love the hand clench bc it's perfect but can we also talk about the eyelash flutters when she grabs/kisses his hands????? It's like he can't believe his eyes and he's trying to make sure it's real- I just- it's too much
oh my god yes we definitely don’t talk enough about this
i love the subtle way matthew played darcy. it’s all about the little things…
the way he quickly glances at the book lizzy’s holding
how he fidgets when he’s trying to flirt
the eyelash flutters when he’s trying to figure lizzy out
the many times he glances at lizzy’s mouth during the rain scene
The LI's watching a drunken Warden/Hawke/Inquisitor talk endlessly to the other tavern-goers about how much they absolutely adore their lover; how wonderful and perfect they are, how incredibly blessed they are to have them. When a patron gets annoyed/bored and walks away, they just start all over with another patron.
Alistair: He’s extremely uncomfortable with the whole thing. He lets them run through two people before he drags them off to bed. “No, no. You’re embarrassing me! And you’re drunk. Just get some rest. It’s fine.”
Zevran: He’s sitting right next to the Warden the whole time, talking over them about how wonderful they are. He thinks it’s a great joke and tries to say increasingly outrageous things, hoping that the Warden will rise to the challenge, just to see the patrons’ faces.
Leliana: She thinks it’s sweet, and she’s just drunk enough to watch it all play out with a dreamy smile. For hours. Until the Warden passes out midsentence. That’s okay, though. It was lovely.
Morrigan: She claps her hand over the Warden’s mouth the moment it becomes clear that they have no intention of stopping. She’s not going to allow that. Random people in a tavern don’t deserve the Warden’s attention. And she really doesn’t want every random person in a tavern to know all that.
Fenris: He freezes up for a while, unable to figure out what to do as Hawke just babbles away to anyone who will listen about how amazing he is and how much they love him. When Hawke moves on to a fourth patron to slur at he finally manages to go over to them and get them into bed. “I love you, too, Hawke,” he says softly once they’re snoring away in bed. He wouldn’t admit it, but it was actually really nice to hear all that.
Isabela: She laughs and creates a stage out of a table and a couple of chairs and sits Hawke in the center of attention. “Yes, love, tell everyone how great I am!” She’s watching the whole thing with a grin. She loves it.
Anders: He’s pretty uncomfortable with it, but it takes him a little while to figure out what to do. In the end, Hawke rambles away to two people before he collects them and takes them home. “I love you, too, Hawke, but the tavern really isn’t the place for that.”
Merrill: She’s vibrating with both anxiety and happiness as Hawke tells anyone who will listen how much they love her. She bounces up and down in place, hands pressed to her mouth and eyes wide as she listens. Finally, she throws her arms around Hawke. “Oh, Hawke, I love you, too!” she tell them, her face buried in their shoulder. No one has ever cherished her the way Hawke does, and she loves it.
Cullen: The second he hears that the Inquisitor is in the Herald’s Rest talking about their relationship, he goes to collect them. He’s the Commander and they’re the Inquisitor, and that sort of behavior really should be allowed in public. His entire upper body is beet red when he collects his drunken lover, but he keeps his spine straight as he send them to bed.
Josephine: She’s blushing and lets it go on just a little longer than she really should just so she can hear it, then takes her lover to bed. With a glass of water right beside them, she tucks them in and kisses them goodnight, secretly pleased with what happened.
Cassandra: She smacks the Inquisitor to get them to stop, then takes them someplace quiet and private and lets them ramble about how much they love her. She wants to hear it, but she doesn’t want anyone else to hear it.
Iron Bull: He thinks it’s great fun! He keeps the Inquisitor’s cup full and lets them talk until they’re hoarse. The Chargers tease him mercilessly, but it’s all worth it!
Blackwall: “Now, my lady, that’s really improper,” he tries to say, but the Inquisitor just talks louder. After a while, he just scoops them up and sends them to bed. It’s sweet, but he’s not comfortable with it.
Sera: It’s great! Well, she knew it all already, but to hear Inky just keep talking is great! She’ll correct them sometimes or add things. And she makes sure the drinks keep coming!
Solas: He wasn’t in the tavern when it was happening, but hears the next morning that his vhenan was drunk and talking non-stop about how much they love him. He says nothing about it, not to anyone. When he sees the Inquisitor, hungover and sheepish, he kisses them lightly and makes a hangover cure, but otherwise doesn’t comment. He can’t deny, privately to himself, that he finds it oddly compelling.
Dorian: He’s right next to his amatus, and just drunk enough to let it go on without comment, his chest bowed out with pride. They laugh about it the next morning, both hungover with their limbs tangled together in the sheets.
summary : peter’s always been a little bit in love with you, it just took a difficult night and warm, ever comforting words for him to come to the realization. intelligent he may be, but he’s a clueless teenage boy before anything else.
word count : 2.5k
It was eleven o’clock at night and, as per usual, you were neglecting the sleep you desperately needed in order to finish up the notes on your assigned reading novel that were due in just a few short hours. You were never one to finish tasks, especially menial ones such as homework, in a timely fashion. This was just the tip of the iceberg. You briefly took off your glasses, rubbing your tired eyes that were now struggling to focus on the words in front of you properly. When you slipped them back over your nose, glancing up toward your bedroom window that lead out to the fire escape, you saw the familiar face of your best friend peering in through the glass in a way that was only slightly creepy.
Peter knocked rapidly on the glass, waving at you in the typical, hyperactive way that he always had about him. You jumped off your bed, reaching out to shut your bedroom door before walking over to the bay window and unlocking it. A rush of cold winter air nipped at your face the minute it swung open and Peter Parker shoved himself through. Visits from him in this particular manner were common, especially after a day’s work of fighting crime throughout various parts of New York, but not usually this late- and never without a text to alert you first.
“You must be freezing,” you shivered, closing the window quickly. “How long were you out there?” Making yourself comfortable on your bed once again, you propped open your book, ready to force him into helping you study. He didn’t answer. Instead, he drew his sweatshirt closer to his body, sliding to the floor beside your bed and leaning his head against the soft duvet. His curls were sticking up in every direction when he pulled his hood away, his cheeks and the tip of his nose a brilliant shade of red, but not from the bitter chill that was sweeping mercilessly over Queens.
You heard a distinct sniff, then another, then another. His breathing, already shallow from the frantic climbing he had done to reach your fire escape, became even more labored. He pulled his knees to his chest to hide his face. He felt you press yourself against him, your arms around his shoulders and across his chest before he could pull away in embarrassment. Your glasses creaked when they pushed too far into his shoulder. Neither of you moved. You clung to him and he sat there, silently shaking and leaning into your embrace as if it were the only thing keeping him from falling apart.
“Hey, hey, shh, shh, Peter, you’re okay,” you whispered, rubbing his back. “I’ve got you, I promise. You’ve gotta breathe, though, okay?” He was always ashamed of his sensitivity, but he couldn’t help it. He was a sensitive boy and he cried easily and had an awful lot of anxiety sometimes. Today was one of those days, with good reason. He nodded stiffly, maneuvering himself to hug you back, face pressed into your shoulder this time.
“It’s… the anniversary,” he said, his voice broken. “One year.” Hollow. “One year since- since Ben. One year tomorrow.”
He pulled away, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his oversized sweatshirt. There were traces of tears still making their way down his cheeks, sliding across his nose and down to his lips. He tried to rub them away, too, but you caught his wrist in your hand.
“You’re not wrong or less of a dude for crying, Peter.” The way you looked at him, so lovely and caring and worried, made his heart cry out for the safety of your embrace again. “Were you at the cemetery?” You matched his stance and rested the side of your cheek on your knee, still carefully studying his face.
“Yeah,” he exhaled, placing his chin in his palm. “I’m gonna go again in the morning with May. Gonna miss school. I- I probably should’ve, um, stayed with her tonight but I…” he trailed off, “I needed you.” He said it as he said most things to you, with his soft tone of voice and his hesitance that made him, him. He never really noticed until now.
“What are best friends for, right?”
“Yeah. Best friends.”
Ignoring the odd way those two words slipped out of his mouth, you said, “I’m sorry, Peter. I know you loved Uncle Ben so much. I’m sorry, you don’t deserve this. You and May don’t deserve this.” You reached out to him, your hand gripping his without an ounce of doubt. You had small hands and he didn’t but he felt a thousand times better when yours found his. “I’m always here for you. Do you wanna talk about it?”
Surprisingly, he shook his head adamantly. “No, no.” He squeezed your hand. “I kind of, um, just wanna go to bed. Crying like a little baby really tires a guy out, you know?” He gave a weak laugh, a tiny grin, and you smiled right back at him before pulling him to his feet. “Can I use the bathroom?” He needed to wash the sticky feeling of dry tears off his face, rub the sadness out of his eyes. He wanted to be strong for May when he got back in the morning.
“Of course, just be quiet. Mom and dad are asleep.” You padded across your rug and opened your door a crack, holding it in a specific way so that it wouldn’t creak when you let Peter through. He gave you a grateful squeeze of the hand again before disappearing into the bathroom.
He splashed water on his face, staring up at his reflection, at the water dripping off his eyelashes and the curling ends of the hair that was plastered to his forehead. He rubbed at his face and took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to cry anymore. You had sufficiently comforted him for the night. Peter could breathe again.
Peter quietly walked back down the hallway and into your bedroom, watching for a second as you pulled spare blankets down from a shelf in your closet and arranged them on your bay window. You had cleared your bed of your school supplies and had left the covers open for Peter to crawl into without a second though. Which he did. Your covers smelled quite lovely, actually. It was the scent of your perfume that you wore often enough for him to recognize the scent, and he wanted to fall asleep under the inviting covers that were laid out for him. Then, he saw you sit atop your window, about to lie down.
“Wait, why are you doing that?” He got out of bed and took your hand for the third time that night, growing accustomed to the feeling of it. He pulled you over to your bed. “You’re not sleeping on a stupid window. That’s ridiculous. I’ll take the window.” He spun you around and ignored the protestant noise you made, gripping your shoulders and sitting you down on the bed.
“I’m not letting you take the window, either!” You argued, yanking him back down on the bed. He huffed, glaring at you in a teasing manner. “C’mon, just take the bed. You need it more than I do.” His glare dropped to his lap, an idea rolling around in his head. “What?”
“Y/N, how about we just both take the bed?” He said finally, lifting his eyes back to yours. He wasn’t sure what made him say it, why he didn’t just take the floor like he probably should have, but the words were out there in the world and there wasn’t a way to take them back now. You bit your lip, then shrugged, scooting over.
“It is big enough for the two of us.” You turned away from him, turning off your lamp and getting under the covers. You heard Peter slide in next to you, but your back was toward him until he poked you sharply. “What’s wrong, Peter?”
“Can you- um, well-”
You flipped over on your side, just barely making out his face in the darkness of your room. “Do you want me to cuddle you?” Though you said in a teasing sort of tone, you were silently quite pleased when he mumbled a reluctant yes. You moved closer, one arm going around his waist and the other underneath him. Your head was on his chest, listening to the resilient beating of his heart. He placed his chin atop your head. He focused on the sound of your steady breaths until you were sleeping peacefully beside him.
He was so grateful for you- the person who stood by his side throughout anything and everything. You, so strong and beautiful and brave and comforting in his times of distress. You, who never seemed to waver in your loyalty to him. You, the very picture of loveliness and a girl who he’d very much like to-
His eyes flew open, and he almost jumped away from you. He didn’t want to risk you awakening, though, so he stayed put, freaking out internally rather than externally the way he was prone to doing. He had been thinking of kissing you. That was what he was going to say. Kiss. The thought had come so simply to his brain it was like he already thought the same thing for years. Maybe he had. It wasn’t like he was blind. You were a stunning girl, even if you didn’t think so yourself, you were his best friend, you were practically perfect and Peter would be an idiot to not adore you the way that he did.
Adore, adore, adore. Oh, boy. Peter glanced down at you, sleeping in his arms, and confirmed what he had so stupidly never noticed before. His infinitesimal, brief affection for Liz Allen had absolutely nothing on his all encompassing love for you.
Peter bid you goodbye that morning at six thirty sharp, before either of your parents had woken up for work. Before he slipped out your window and into the cracks early morning sunlight, he had pressed a gentle, chaste kiss to your cheek. It was only the briefest touch of his lips to your face, but you had held your face, right in that spot, for practically the entire day. Ned had questioned why, but you brushed him off with an answer of exhaustion.
The day after that, Peter returned to school, dragging Ned off to the side as soon as he stepped off the train platform. He had waited for the other boy purposely, seeking advice.
“I have a huge, gigantic, terrible awful problem right now, Ned!” He exclaimed as soon as he saw him, throwing his hands up in the air. “I need help.”
“Psychiatric help,” Michelle supplied, appearing out of nowhere as she usually did before walking down the path to school.
Ned shrugged. “She’s not wrong.”
Peter, frantic, seized Ned’s shoulders and shook him. “This is not a roast Peter session! This a cry for help! Help me, Ned Leeds!”
“Am I your only hope?” Peter wanted to scream.
“This isn’t the time for Star Wars puns, either!” Not waiting for Ned to quip back that every time was Star Wars time, Peter said, loudly, “I’m in love with Y/N and I don’t know what to do!” He ran his hands in his hair, wanting to pull it out. “I just- I just realized the other night! Everything just kind of, like, clicked and I’ve been so stupid. I should’ve realized it before, but of course I didn’t and now I have no idea what to do!”
“Wait, dude, you seriously have never noticed this before? Are you kidding me? Peter, you’re supposed to be the genius of the school. I feel let down.” Ned shook his head solemnly. “Dude, everyone knows you love her. Even Flash. That’s why he picks on her all the time. He likes pissing you off and nothing gets under your skin more than someone messing with Y/N. She’s the first one you told about being Spider-Man, you go to her for all your problems, you practically pee yourself racing to be her partner for almost everything- not science because science is our subject, but still. I figured you knew you loved her and just didn’t wanna talk about it because she’s out of your league.”
“Hey! I am not-” He stopped. “So what if I am? That’s not even the point. The point is that I love her. Me realizing it was inevitable, even if it took me like eighty years to get there. Doesn’t matter. I’ve gotta tell her, right?”
“You totally should,” Ned encouraged. “She’s definitely in love with you, too.”
Hopefully, Peter grinned. “You really think so?”
“The reassurance you give me is suffocating, Ned. Stop before I die.”
That day in gym class, Ned and Peter went off to the side to pretend they were doing stretches while you sat with Michelle and conversed about literature for the first half of the period. Your conversation, however, soon led off into other directions.
“Hey, MJ, have you ever… I don’t know, been in love?”
Michelle raised her eyebrows. “Only with crushing the patriarchy. Why? Have you?” The intuitive girl already knew your answer, of course, but she was invested in you and Peter’s love story and was desperate to hear the truth from your own lips.
You played with the hem of your shirt, thinking. Peter and Ned casually inched closer, having been listening to the conversation for quite sometime now. They were unapologetically nosy. “I think I am.”
“With who?” Peter clasped his hands together, silently pleading with the universe to grant him this one wish. I promise, universe, I’ll never ask for anything ever again in my whole life if you just let this girl love me back I swear I’ll be the best Spider-Man there ever was and I’ll protect New York until I’m eighty five just please oh my god please-
The gasp he let out was involuntary, but you didn’t hear him. He turned to Ned, his expression of shock, as well as elation, mirroring Peter’s own. Suddenly, Ned stood, shouting for the entire gym class to hear, “Y/N! Peter loves you too!” You looked up, Michelle’s happy and knowing smirk going unnoticed by you because the only thing you could focus on was Peter and what Ned had just declared.
The gym fell silent, every student turning to stare at you and Peter. You were frozen in shock up until the bell rang and everyone filed out quickly, leaving you and Peter alone.
“Did he mean it?” You asked, your sneakers squeaking against the floor as you closed the distance between you and Peter, your head tilted to meet his.
“It’s the truest thing anyone has ever said.” His lips met yours, and the slant of his mouth against your own was a feeling you could definitely come to adore more than you already did after just one kiss.
“Oh, look, Draco. It’s Mr. O’Sullivan, the Arithmancer. We should introduce ourselves,” Harry said in an overly-chipper tone.
Draco eyed his boyfriend speculatively over his glass of champagne. Harry usually hated Ministry events such as this, and he hated meeting the people there even more. Draco did not for one second believe that Harry wanted to meet Mr. O’Sullivan, especially considering that the man’s job was one of the most boring in the Wizarding World.
“Should we now?” Draco asked suspiciously, raising an eyebrow.
“I just said we should, didn’t I?” Harry kept talking in that annoyingly buoyant way and Draco rolled his eyes.
“If you insist, love.”
Harry and Draco crossed the crowded room, Harry’s hand placed possessively on Draco’s lower back. The smile on Harry’s face was about a mile wide when they reached Mr. O’Sullivan. Draco was smiling too, but not in the manic way that Harry was, his was simply a polite nice-to-meet-you smile.
“Mr. O’Sullivan?” Harry said and the middle-aged man who had been gazing out the window turned to face the two gentlemen.
“Yes? Oh, my. It’s you.” O’Sullivan’s eyebrows lept up to where his hairline should’ve been, had he not been bald. Draco’s smile widened almost imperceptibly, as he found it quite amusing when people twice his age were awed to be in the presence of his boyfriend.
“Yes, it’s me,” Harry responded. “I’ve heard that you’re a very talented Arithmancer and I wanted to introduce myself.”
O’Sullivan turned a horrid shade of scarlet as he said, “Oh, my. Oh, my. That’s very kind of you, Mr. Potter, but I’m just one of many Arithmancers in the world. But you, Mr. Potter, there’s only one of you. It’s such an honor to meet you.” O’Sullivan gazed admirably at Harry and only when Draco cleared his throat did he seem to realize that Harry was not alone. “Oh dear. I’m sorry. It’s an honor to meet you as well, Mr. …”
“Malfoy. Draco Malfoy,” Draco said, forcing himself to ignore the way O’Sullivan’s eyes widened as he realized that Harry Potter was accompanying an ex-Death Eater.
When O’Sullivan failed to reply, Harry spoke up, “He’s my fiancé.”
It was now Draco’s turn for his eyebrows to rise to his hairline and his eyes to widen. He and Harry weren’t engaged. If they were, Draco was fairly certain he would know about it.
“Congratulations,” O’Sullivan said. He didn’t sound like he meant it.
“Thank you,” Harry said, his smile as ardent as ever. He promptly led still-confused Draco away from O’Sullivan without so much as a goodbye.
Once they were a safe distance away from O’Sullivan, Draco blurted, “Engaged? Are you completely insane? We’re not engaged!”
Harry winked and replied, “Not yet, we’re not.”
Draco looked at his boyfriend like he was a madman, but was too stunned to argue.
“Oh, look!” Harry’s gleeful voice rang out like a bell. “There’s Mrs. and Mrs. Oswell. Let’s go meet them!”
And for the rest of the night, Harry kept introducing Draco to everyone they encountered as his fiancé. It wasn’t until they were strolling down the streets of Muggle London on the way back to their flat that Draco got to question Harry.
“What the fuck just happened?” Draco said. He tugged on Harry’s hand and whined, “You can’t just go around telling people we’re engaged when we’re not!”
“We will be, soon enough,” Harry said cryptically.
“That’s the most vague yet prophetic thing I’ve heard that didn’t come out of Dumbledore’s mouth.”
Harry chuckled and smirked smugly.
“Are you going to propose or what?” Draco asked anxiously.
“Yes,” Harry answered.
“You are? When?”
Draco elbowed Harry and scowled. “Soon? That’s all you’re going to give me?”
Harry laughed again. “Yep. Deal with it, Malfoy.”
“Are you kidding me?” Draco let go of his boyfriend’s hand and pouted pettishly.
“Calm down. You knew this was going to happen soon anyway. You’ve been leaving ‘hints’ for me all over the place. You think I didn’t notice when our Froot Loops were transfigured to look like rings?”
Draco had stopped listening to Harry and started ranting about all the things he needed to know about the proposal. “Is it going to be fancy and romantic with rose petals and all that? Or are you just going to hide the ring inside a burrito like a hooligan? Because, I love you Harry, but I’m not willing to risk my life by eating something that contains a ring I could choke on. Which means that I can’t eat anything until you propose. Oh, and what if it’s in public? I’ll have to practice my shocked face. You’re not going to have, like, a secret photographer or anything who jumps out and takes pictures when you get down on one knee, are you? I think I might have a heart attack if you do. Shit. And now I’m also going to have to look really nice everyday.”
Harry shook his head in amusement and touched Draco’s cheek fondly. “Slow down, babe. Everything’s going to be okay. And by the way, you already look really nice.”
Draco sighed and allowed Harry to pull him into his arms. “Thanks, love, but there’s a difference between casually looking really nice and getting engaged looking really nice.”
Harry chuckled. He broke the hug so he could kiss Draco. “Well, I think you look nice enough to get engaged right now,” Harry said slyly.
“You mean-” Draco started and Harry nodded.
“The ring is in my pocket,” Harry told him. Draco nearly stopped breathing right then and there.
Harry smiled as he got down on one knee and retrieved a white velvet box from his dress robes. He snapped open box to reveal two rings, one gold and one silver. “Dra-” was all Harry got to say before Draco interrupted him.
“Yes,” Draco said, his eyes fixed on Harry’s.
“You have to let me ask you first,” Harry pointed out.
Draco frowned. “Fine.”
“Draco Malfoy, I love you and I cannot imagine a life in which I don’t. You-”
“Yes,” Draco said, cutting off Harry again.
“Not yet,” Harry said, a bit irritably.
Draco rolled his eyes and Harry went on, “You’re my keeper, my person, my everything. I want you to be my husband too. Will you-”
“Stop doing that. I’m trying to make a memorable moment here.”
“Right now the only thing memorable about this moment is how much of an insufferable prat you’re being.”
Harry scoffed. “I’m the insufferable prat?”
Draco groaned loudly. “You’re killing me, Potter. Would you just ask me to marry you already?”
“Fine,” Harry said petulantly. Then, tenderly, “Will you marry me?”
There was a beat of silence and Draco didn’t say anything.
“Are you for real right now?” Harry asked.
“Well, I don’t know if I want to marry you anymore. You were being mean,” Draco said, crossing his arms childishly.
“You kept interrupting me! Will you just fucking marry me already?”
Draco stroked his chin, pretending to consider before finally answering, “Yes. Of course I will, you git.”
Harry grinned and laughed. He slid the silver ring onto Draco’s finger and the gold onto his own. After shoving the box back into his pocket, he stood again and pecked Draco lightly on the lips.
Harry laughed wickedly and dragged Draco into a nearby alley.
“No, this is our engagement kiss,” he said. He pulled Draco into a deep, passionate kiss and Draco Disapparated in an instant, apparently very eager to celebrate the engagement in a deeper, more passionate way.
Operation Henderson and Harrington Pt. 2 ~ Mini-Series
Summary: The kids take it upon themselves to test their matchmaking skills. With a little help, they form a plot to get you and Steve together by Halloween.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x (Henderson!You) Reader
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: Language! Mostly from Dustin.
A/N: I am so happy that part 1 received so much positive feedback and I am so happy that you all love it so much! Here is part 2 for you. I’ll try to post a part each night until the series is complete. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!!! Much love to you all. xx
Phase One of Operation Henderson and Harrington: Get Steve to agree to the group costume.
Hopper swung by to pick up El and Max after school, leaving the four boys alone to wait for Steve. He took on the responsibility of dropping them off at home after each school day ended, unless they had AV Club and in that case Joyce would pick them up.
“Alright, guys,” Dustin clapped his hands to get their attention, gathering them up into a circle. “Remember the plan. We changed our costume idea, and now we’re going to be the T-Birds, and we want Steve to dress up as one too so the group is complete. I am Kenickie. Mike, you are Sonny. Will, you are Doody. And Lucas, you are Putzie.”
“Why do you get to be the cool one?” Will asked.
“Because Danny and Kenickie are best friends, like Steve and I are, so it works,” Dustin explained to them.
You laid back on your shared bed with your boyfriend, Ethan, scanning aimlessly through your phone. When you had texted Ethan on your way home from the airport he had told you he was out filming something with Grayson. Neither of you had seen each other in two weeks since you’d come back from your family vacation. You had originally planned to come home a day later but you wanted to surprise Ethan by choosing to come home a little earlier instead. You waited impatiently, tapping your fingers against your thigh until your heart began to pound in your chest at the sound of the apartment door opening and closing. Heavy footsteps shuffled in followed by two familiar voices.
“Dude I think she’s gonna hate it.” You heard Ethan’s laugh and it automatically made your heart sing even though you were questioning what the hell he’d gotten himself into now. You couldn’t leave Ethan or Grayson alone for more than five minutes before one of them was hurting themselves or doing something they’d likely regret later on.
“Maybe she’ll think it’s kind of kinky.” Grayson replied. You heard a smack followed by a loud “Ow!” You narrowed your eyes. What the hell were they talking about? You shook your head and contemplated coming out of the bedroom until you heard Ethan’s footsteps trudging down the hall.
“I’m taking a nap bro. I’m beat.”
The door swung open and Ethan stopped dead, stumbling backwards, clutching his chest with widened eyes.
“Steve?” Y/N called through the apartment, pushing in the back to one of her earrings. She looked into the bedroom, but the only occupant was Gizmo the cat, who was stretched across the bed. The comforter-less, sheet-less, pillow-less bed. She sighed and continued her search. “Steve?” A yipping noise that could only come from one thing was quickly silenced before Y/N could tell where it was coming from.
“Shhh, Scoot. She’ll hear us,” Steve’s hushed voice made Y/N’s eyes turn into slits. She slowly walked down the hall, passing the many pictures they took throughout the years that documented so any memories. A playful growl and a yip sounded from the living room giving their location away. When Y/N made it to the end of the hallway, she stopped dead in her tracks, jaw practically on the floor.
“Steve Harrington, what the hell are you doing?” A ruffling of sheets and blankets got closer and closer to Y/N until Steve’s head popped out of the opening to the massive pillow fort he apparently made in the living room in the time it took Y/N to shower and get dressed. He looked up at Y/N from his place on his hands and knees. Moments later, Scooter -their two year old beige French bulldog-, stuck his head out of the opening much like Steve did.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” He had a dumb grin on his face and his thick head of hair was a mess. He ran a hand through the top to tame it.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about, you goon,” Y/N ruffled his hair. Steve swatted at her and Scooter barked playfully. “We need to leave in half an hour and you are still in your pajamas,”
“Babe,” Just with that one word, Y/N knew Steve was going to try and weasel his way out of the plans that he made.
“I love you,”
“And I love you, but you’re still going!” Y/N turned around and walked back down the hallway to the bathroom to put her makeup on. Before she shut the door, she heard, “She wouldn’t’ve found us if you hadn’t been sassing back, little man. We’re gonna work on that,”
“Steve, for the love of God, please get out of that fort! We’re supposed to meet Jonathan and Nancy for dinner! I don’t care if I have to drag your dead body behind me; You. Are. Going.”
“Counter-offer,” Steve started, once again sticking his head out of the fort with Scooter, but this time his hair was neatly done.
“We’re meeting them in ten minutes, Steve!”
“Just hear me out. You join me, we rule this pillow fort kingdom together with Scooter, watch Beetlejuice, and eat popcorn for dinner.” His eyes were wide, his brows raised, and he gave her a persuasive grin, trying to sell her on the idea. Y/N kneeled down to his level and gave him a sweet kiss on the lips.
“I would love to rule this pillow fort kingdom with you and Scoot,” Y/N tapped Steve’s cheek, “After we get back,” Steve sighed dramatically and dropped his head back with a groan.
“The restaurant is only a few blocks down. We’ll grab something to eat, have a few drinks, and we’ll be back to have plenty of fun in the fort,” Steve gasped, scandalized, and clasped his hands over Scooter’s pointy ears.
You don’t know how it started. But from the moment you met Fionn, you wanted to know him. He was sweet, mysterious and there was something about him that made him different, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. You had, what you called, a “friend crush” on Fionn. He was cute, sure. But he had also become one of Harrys best friends. You had never liked one of Harrys friends as more than a friend, and you sure as hell weren’t going to start now. But as Fionn slowly inserted himself into Harrys life outside of Dunkirk, the more time you spent time with him. And the more you spent time with him, the more you were able to look into his pretty hazel eyes and bright smile. And this lead to you developing more than a “friend crush” on him. But Fionn was good at hiding his emotions, so you had no idea that the feeling was mutual. He had let it slip after one too many beers sitting poolside with Harry.
“She’s hot mate.” He slurred looking over at Harry.
“(y/n)” he said shamelessly.
“Oy, that’s me girl your crackin’ on.” Harry said sitting up from his slouching position in his chair.
“But you’ve got to admit, she’s hot.” Harry let a sly smirk grace his lips as his drunken thoughts drifted to his beautiful girl. As much as he wanted to be, he couldn’t be mad at Fionn. You were hot. Now that Harry thinks about it, he had noticed Fionn looking at you the way only he was supposed to. Just then, a thought drifted into Harrys head that probably shouldn’t have. Harry would normally never suggest such a thing, but the alcohol running through his veins and the image of you in his head made his better judgement lapse.
“If…” Harry starts.
“Get on with it, Harry.” Fionn said to him
“If she agrees to a threesome, would you do it?”
“You mean… you, me and her?” Fionn asks.
Harry nods and takes another swig of his beer, which is probably the last thing on earth he needs more of right now.
When Harry gets home from his morning workout, he finds you curled up in your favorite corner of your shared home. He decides to pop in, kiss your forehead and take a shower before he speaks to you. When he comes back downstairs, he now finds you sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of coffee in your hands, held out for him.
“I made your coffee, baby. Just the way you like it.” You said smiling up at him and placing a kiss to his jaw.
“Thank you love. Um…can we talk?” he nervously asked you taking a seat.
“What’s on your mind, bub?”
“You like Fionn, don’t you?” he said keeping his eyes trained on his coffee mug.
“He’s sweet. Yea I like him.”
“Do you find him attractive? Like, sexually?”
“He’s cute…Harry, where are you going with this?” you asked him confused.
It was then Harry realized that the worst you could do was laugh in his face and tell him no, which he could handle, so he just spit it out,
“Do you want to have a threesome with Fionn and I?” he said finally looking up at you.
You hesitated for a moment. Harry had always been very protective of you and very private with your sex life. So why now all of a sudden, he wants to open it up for Fionn, of all people. How did this even come about? You can’t imagine it being Fionn’s idea, he always seems so innocent and respectful. But all these questions aside, Harry wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t trust Fionn. And you did think he was attractive; beyond, actually. So, before you could talk yourself out of it, you blurted out a “Sure. Why not?”
Harrys face lit up, and he got up from the table and placed a burning kiss to your lips. “I’ll go call Fionn!” he said running down the hall, leaving you to wonder what the hell you’ve gotten yourself into.
A few nights later, there you were, in black and red lace, a silk sheer robe covering your body, waiting for Fionn to arrive at yours and Harrys home. You paced back and forth wondering how all this would play out.
“Relax, love. It’ll be fun. And if you want it to stop, just say the word.” And before you could respond to Harry, who was sitting on the end of the bed in a pair of bright red Calvin Klein boxers, the doorbell rang and it nearly made you jump out of your skin.
“I’ll get it!” you said running down the marble staircase and to the front door.
You opened the door to be greeted by a smiling Fionn, with a bottle of Rosé.
“Hi, come on in.” you said and stepped aside, letting him into your home.
“Thank you. You look stunning. I can’t believe this is actually happening.” He said nervously.
You laughed as Fionn took off his shoes at the door.
“Well believe it. Head on up to the bedroom. Go up the stairs and to the right; big white double doors, can’t miss it. Harrys waiting. I’ll get some glasses for the wine.” You said smiling at him. The wine would be helpful in loosening you up.
When you get to the bedroom, Fionn has already stripped down to his black boxers, toned arms and abs on display as well as broad shoulders. It was strange, it had been years since you’d been with anyone other than Harry. You placed the glasses down on the bedside table.
“Anyone want any wine?” you asked as you poured a glass for yourself. You were met with two “No, thank you” and you drank the whole glass in one go.
“Alright.” You said and dropped your robe revealing your lacy outfit. You didn’t know what to do, so you looked at Harry for guidance, which Fionn was already doing.
“What are you looking at me for? Have at it. My only rules are, if (y/n) says stop, stop. And Fionn- wear this.”
Harry said tossing a condom Fionns way. He nodded and you made your way over to stand between his legs, figuring Harry would join in when he was ready. You leaned down and let your lips ghost over Fionn’s, before pressing them together. The kiss was sweet, Fionn obviously testing the waters. As your tongue ran over his bottom lip to deepen the kiss, your hands pressed onto his shoulders to push him back onto the bed. You climbed on top of him, lining your aching core up with his hard cock, grinding on him like you would Harry. He let out a moan in your mouth, and gripped your hips hard. His hips bucked up to get more from you and this caused you to bite down on his full bottom lip and whimper out his name. It felt so strange, saying a name in bed that wasn’t Harry. You disconnected your lips from the beautiful boys, to leave a trail of kisses down his solid body, with no tattoos in your wake. Pulling his hard cock from his tight boxers, you couldn’t help but compare him to Harry. He was slightly smaller and not as thick, and had a little more of a curve to him than Harry did. You took the plunge and wrapped your lips around him. Fionns eyes rolled back into his head and his fingers made their way to your hair as you swirled your tongue around his swollen, raspberry head.
“Fuck, you feel like velvet.” He said pulling tighter on your hair as your lips slid up and down his cock, covering him in your saliva. You licked all the way up the vein on his underside, and sucked hard on his tip causing him to let out a deep moan.
“Shit. Fuck don’t stop beautiful. Look at you, taking my cock so well.” He said. You let your tongue feel out every vein bump and ridge on him as you took him as far as you could go, your lips touching the base of his cock, his tip hitting the back of your throat. He let out a whimper and bucked up his hips harder, causing you to choke around his thick length and pull back. He was covered in your spit and you could tell he was close. But you wanted him inside you. So, you made your way back up his body pressing your lips to his mouth in a breathless, hard kiss.
“I want you inside me Fionn. Want your big cock inside my tight pussy. It’s so wet for you baby.”
Fionn let out a breath you didn’t know he was holding, and before you knew it, you were on your back, looking up at the pretty boy. It was now his turn to cover you in kisses. He took off your bra, and his lips wrapped around your nipple and sucked on the hard nub. He did the same for the other as one of his long slender fingers made its way into your soaked panties and slipped itself inside you. It was your hips that were now bucking up into him, his finger pumping in and out of you and his lips pressing hot, open mouthed kisses to your neck.
“Your pussy is so fucking tight baby. Shit and you’re so wet for me. I’ve got to taste you.” And with that, his fingers left your body, only to pull your panties down your shaking legs. He threw them over his shoulder, and leaned down to press open mouthed kisses to the inside of your thighs. You took this moment to look over at Harry, who you’d forgotten about until now. His boxers were off his body and on the floor next to his feet, as his hand dragged slowly up his hard, red cock. The sight alone, made you let out a whimper as Fionns soft, warm, wet tongue ran itself up your dripping center.
“Enjoying yourself there, love?” Harry asked you.
And before you could even respond, Fionns lips wrapped around your clit and gave it a hard suck.
“Fuck, Fionn!” you moaned as you bucked your hips up to get more of his mouth. He kissed all the way down you, before his tongue slipped inside you, fucking you expertly. That, mixed with the slow circles he was rubbing on your clit, and the sight of Harry tugging on his oozing cock made your orgasm rip through you. Your toes curled, your back arched and your hips bucked. Fionns tongue was still fucking you, as your vision went white.
“Oh, my god, Fionn fuck baby.” You had a frim grip on his hair as you enjoyed the aftershocks of your high, his thumb still on your clit, his tongue still feeling your velvety, throbbing walls.
When you opened your eyes, you were met with a smiling Fionn, with a mix of his spit and your juices covering the bottom half of his face. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and then said,
“I think someone else wants some of your attention as well.” And he nodded towards Harry who was standing on the side of the bed. You smiled up at your beautiful boy, and for the first time tonight, you kissed a familiar pair of warm, plump lips. You and Harry got lost in your passionate kiss, and you only broke it because of the sound of Fionn tearing a condom open and rolling it on.
“C’mere baby girl.” Fionn said and he pulled you away from Harry and pushed a hand on your back to make you kneel down, your ass touching the tip of Fionns cock, your nose nearly touching Harrys. Fionn wasted no time pushing inside you, you both letting out a loud moan at the feeling. You felt full, to the brim actually. And you knew it wouldn’t take long for Fionn to make you cum, your pussy feeling like silk against his thick cock. Your lips wasted no time wrapping around Harry, him almost doubling over at the feeling of your lips. You couldn’t hold Harrys hips like you normally would, having to keep yourself up, due to Fionn basically pounding you from behind.
“Fuck my mouth baby.” You said looking up at Harry. He nodded and guided his cock inside your mouth, fucking your mouth at the same pace Fionn was fucking your pussy. The three of you were moaning messes, getting turned on by not only the feeling but also by the atmosphere. You moaned around Harrys cock when Fionn hit that little spot inside you that made you squirm. You squeezed around him as he let out an animalistic growl, driving his length into you hard, causing you to take all of Harrys length into your mouth. Spit was dripping down your chin and onto the bed, your arousal dripping down your thighs. You could feel both Harry and Fionn twitch inside you, just as Fionns fingers began to rub harshly at your clit. This caused your second orgasm of the evening, your jaw going slack and moaning around Harrys cock. He pulled his cock from your mouth and let his hand harshly jerk himself off, his cum painting your face as your name and a string of profanities falling from his lips. You got so caught up in Harry that you didn’t realize Fionn was also cumming inside the condom that covered him. Fionn moaned your name and collapsed onto the bed behind you, and you laid down beside him as he caught his breath.
You moved over to make room for Harry, and as soon as he was in reach, you pressed your lips to his in a hot kiss. He pulled away, admiring the sight of you fucked out, his cum dripping all over your face. He brought a finger up to your cheek, swiping a thick drop of cum off your skin, holding it up to your lips to suck at. You did, sucking on his fingers, just as you did his cock moments ago. You giggled, pressing another kiss to Harrys lips, before he wiped the rest of his cum off your face with a tissue.
Summary: Dean doesn’t know how or why he fell in love with her. But he does know one thing. It all started with a flannel…
Characters: Dean Winchester x reader, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer (mentioned), Castiel (mentioned)
Word count: 3977 (totally worth it, I promise)
Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Some language. Implied smut. Death of a loved one, mentions of blood and references to grief.
Author’s Notes: This is my very late submission for @luci-in-trenchcoats‘ AU & Things Challenge. Michelle, I can’t even thank you enough for being so patient with me about this. I fell so in love with the story and wanted to do it justice.
Special thank you to twin @ravengirl94 for reading parts of it over for me and listening to me whine, I don’t know what I’d do without her.
My prompt for this was flannel (obviously, lol) and you’ll see what I did with it in the text *winks* Also, this fic was loosely inspired by Ed Sheeran’s How Would You Feel (You need to listen to that, btw, his new album is amazeballs)
Thank you for all of your love and support. Enjoy <3
The first time
Dean sees her in one of his flannels, it’s after a wendigo hunt.
creeping its way into his life again, its tawny leaves and withered hedges
painting the scene in golden colors and, even though he rarely takes the time to
appreciate things like these anymore, he stops for a second and breathes it all
in, the crispiness and the rustles and the shadows of change.
And then, she
swims into view.
She’s sitting on
the hood of a Bronco in Bobby’s scrap yard, fallen leaves dancing at her feet,
as she stares straight ahead, at the sky that’s turning to orange, and smiles.
And he doesn’t
notice at first, but there’s something familiar there, in the red
and white fabric that wraps around her, in the way the garment dwarfs
her, in the rolled-up sleeves and the hem that reaches her mid-thigh and he realizes
that it’s his clothes she’s wearing.
All the reasons I loved this latest Chris and Eva clip:
Brace yourselves, cause this is going to be a looong list. I’m sorry but I’m too far gone for my OTP to care about much else today.
* The way he touches her face in the beginning of the clip.
*Chris’ wide grin plus Eva’s sleepy smile. Honestly, the chemistry between those two is unreal, even in small moments like this.
*“Did you sleep well?” “Mhm.” The whole Jonas and Eva vs Eva and Chris parallel here. Jonas pretty much said that he had a nightmare in which Eva was a whore and CHRIS TOLD EVA THAT HE HAD A DREAM WHERE EVA WAS HIS GIRLFRIEND. Ugh.
*Also, the whole dream was totally made up and I have a feeling that Eva knew it. And she knows how whipped she has him and just…Eva is goals as usual.
* Wow, damn. Another one of Chris Schistad’s reaction gifs is born.
* I honestly feel like Chris is trying to remember his lines when he is talking about his “dream”. And Eva is so amused CAUSE SHE KNOWS.
* He is such a certified nerd while telling that stupid story.
* Chris’ reaction when Eva told him that his dream wasn’t real tho. He was all: “say what now?”
* Eva: “we’re never going to be together” Eva: *smiles* Chris: *tries not to look like somebody just stabbed him and fails*
* “Why not?” I can see that you’re internally crying, Chris. God, the dialogue is gold.
* The way Chris repeats Eva’s words back to her. Such a small thing but mad cute.
*Also, I have such huuuge respect for Eva. She still acknowledges that Chris was a fuckboy in the past and she smiles again when saying it, and it’s so playful, and Eva knows that Chris is in love with her but she’s still protecting her heart and is being reasonable about it all and just…where can I find an Eva?
*Also, telling a guy whose currently naked in your bed that he’s a cheating fuckboy, is NEXT LEVEL.
* The way Eva almost immediately stops kissing Chris, because someone’s calling her. She. Always. Puts. Her. Friends. First.
* When Eva answers Vilde’s call and we can actually see how hurt Chris is over the fact that Eva doesn’t want to be his girlfriend.
* Also, the way he runs his hand over his face is like saying: “damn I messed up with that fake dream I told her about oops”
* When Eva tells Vilde that she is doing nothing special, and Chris looks like he’s about to cry. That boy is so in love, I can’t put it into words.
* All the longing looks towards Eva while she’s talking on the phone!!!
* Eva: “But maybe I can call you later or something.” Queue Chris’ whole face lighting up.
* Chris: “We were talking about getting together.” Lol, smooth.
* That boy has lost all his game and just wants to be together with Eva. Who’s crying? Certainly not me.
* THE PLAYFULNESS.
* The fact that Chris isn’t pressuring her into anything but just wants them to be together but he isn’t pushy about it. I honestly don’t know where the Noorhell shippers get their ideas, when they compare Mohnstad and Noorhell.
* ANOTHER JONAS AND EVA vs CHRIS AND EVA PARALLEL.
* When Eva tried to push Chris off her bed and he didn’t budge an inch, that was a sign.
* I just love how Chris is still his old self on some level, so self-confident and just doesn’t understand why he has to hide.
* Eva being determined not to introduce Chris, so the boy gets up, wraps a sheet over himself, and is just like: “Hi. I’m Chris.”
* Your name is also Chris? ANOTHER ONE, WE HAVE ANOTHER ONE.
* I just noticed that Eva rolls her eyes when Chris is talking to her mum, oh wow. I love this girl.
* When Eva’s mum says that she wasn’t aware that Eva had a boyfriend and Chris looks like he is finally sure Eva will confirm their relationship now but she DOES NOT.
* Also, Chris was totally happy to meet her mum, you can’t tell me otherwise.
* “We’re not together.” “Not yet”
* Eva’s mum’s “you’ll figure it out” is basically the whole fandom’s reaction to this clip.
* Also, all the smiles and the banter in the end of this clip, what can I say, Mohnstad just naturally gravitate towards each other.
* Chris: “Love me.” Honestly, what kind of desperation.
In conclusion: this was the clip of dreams that I never thought I’d see.