"For Years Now, Jake Had Had A Soft Spot For You." Yess, I Love When Jake Has A Soft Spot For The Reader

I loved it with all my heart! I have a long-distance relationship and sometimes things get really hard to deal with. I love how you wrote the angst and they meeting again and Steve crying because y/n was there with him... Omg, that was amazing!

😍❤️

Hearts on the Telephone Line | Steve Harrington

》 PAIRING: steve harrington x female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: established relationship; hurt/comfort; mild angst; fluff

》 REQUESTED: yes by @sheisjoeschateau​ !

》 SUMMARY: You thought Steve was okay dealing with a long-distance relationship after you moved for an exciting internship in New York. But you were proven so wrong when your boyfriend finally poured his feelings over the phone. Because distance wasn’t making his heart grow fonder, it was breaking it.

》 WARNINGS: slight canon divergence (everyone’s okay, alive & they won bc i said so), shitty internship, this thing called adulting, annoying roommate/cousin, pet names (baby, sweetheart, my love), sad!steve :( & soft!steve <3, lot’s of ‘missing you’ angst, separation anxiety (kinda?), mentions of: nightmares & near death experiences in the upside down; so. much. crying (both happy and…not so much), fluffy ending.

》 WORD COUNT: 8k+

A/N: hello hello! another steve fic hah i’m in too deep. this is also another supposed blurb turned into a whole long ass one shot bc it’s me, hi 😭 but anyways, i hope you guys enjoy this one!

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ STEVE HARRINGTON MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩  

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

You deeply sighed in relief as you closed the apartment door, pressing your back against it with a soft thud.

To say you were tired was an understatement.

Running countless errands—personal ones, to be specific—for your boss was a task and a half all on its own. Now, doing it in your ’office uniform’ that wasn’t of your choosing, one that consisted of an itchy, frilly, long-sleeved blouse tucked into an uncomfortable, pleated, long skirt and some kitten heels?

It felt like you’d just gone through hell and back.

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Omg 😭😭😭😭😭😭 I to put Marc in a little jar and protect him from the evil of the world

do not chastise the dove (14) ✧ steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley

do not chastise the dove ✧ a royal moon knight au | ao3 | pinterest board

pairing: knight!steven grant x fem!princess!reader x knight!marc spector x knight!jake lockley

series summary: you were a princess who would rather be anything but a royal; he was the knight her father forced her to marry—a true match made in hell if there ever was one. but, as the wedding inches closer and closer, it seems that, perhaps, your father had finally done something right by you. 

chapter summary: the king is exposed, the future is considered, and the past is revealed. 

word count: 4,582

warnings?: inaccurate depiction of legal proceedings, fluff, a little angsty, discussion of randall + wendy, discussion of did, pet name (dove)

Continuar lendo

do not chastise the dove (9) ✧ steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley

do not chastise the dove ✧ a royal moon knight au | ao3 | pinterest board

pairing: knight!steven grant x fem!princess!reader x knight!marc spector x knight!jake lockley

series summary: you were a princess who would rather be anything but a royal; he was the knight her father forced her to marry—a true match made in hell if there ever was one. but, as the wedding inches closer and closer, it seems that, perhaps, your father had finally done something right by you. 

chapter summary: a look into what’s happening with the princess. 

word count: 1,509

warnings?: a shorter chapter whoops, kidnapping, vague descriptions of vomiting, not proofread

Continuar lendo

Okay, can someone just write this, please?! This would be so awesome and cute! Seriously, this would be the best christmas gift.

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS

to have an imagine where you and roger are old and have been married for forever

and you become like a second mom to the cast to borhap cast especially ben and they adore you and you tell embarrassing stories about all of the band

and you are roger are like a cool old person couple who make fun of each other and talk smack and try to outdo each other

but you really heckin love each other

Crying screaming throwing up 😭😭 KISS YOU FOOLS!

Would you be willing to do hide from the prompt list with Steve?

your wish is my command ♥ sorry, it's a bit angsty cause i'm feeling down today

[HIDE; Allowing the smaller friend to hide in the bigger friend’s jacket, arms closed around them and the smaller one’s face tucked close. ]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

You lean against the wall, hugging yourself in hopes of warding off the cold. And God, it is cold. Your breath creates little white clouds, but the cold isn't as bothersome as the anxiety that's been squeezing your throat minutes ago.

"What are you doing here?" asks Steve, a step away from joining you. He rubs both hands together, seeking some kind of warmth. "It's freezing out here."

Steve is a good friend — the best. It's always been hard for you to talk, especially about your own feelings, and with Steve sometimes it feels like you don't even have to. He seems to be able to read your thoughts, to always know when to give you space, when to make sure you're not alone.

You hope that's not true, though. That he's not able to read your thoughts, that is. You don't want him to know a few in particular, the ones you have when you say something that makes him laugh, truly laugh, the kind that has him throwing his head back and making the most wonderful sound in the world. Or when Steve squeezes you into a hug and his scent seems to linger on you for the rest of the day. Or when…

Well, better stop there.

The sound of your name makes you turn your head to look at him. "Hmm?" you ask.

"Are you cold?"

You rub your own arms. Except for your hands, you're not feeling that cold, but it was definitely warmer inside the house. Too warm, somehow. Suffocating.

"I'm not taking your jacket," you say, already all too familiar with Steve's kindness and the way his ridiculously nice brain works. He gives so much to others that someone needs to remind him that he is also a person with needs like everyone else.

"But-"

"No."

Steve takes your hands between his and blows hot air into them. "You look like you're cold."

You're not — well, at least you don't feel like you are. It feels like you're burning hot right now, this close to him.

He doesn't let go of your hands. Instead, his fingers close around your wrists and he gently pulls you closer.

"Come here," he whispers, and you let him wrap your hands around his own waist, under his jacket, fluffy and warm and incredibly cozy. You enjoy the feeling of his chin resting on top of your head, of his hands rubbing your back slowly. "Better?" he asks.

You let your eyes close for a moment, hugging him a little tighter.

"You're my favorite person," you whisper against his chest, kind of hoping he won't hear.

Of course, he does.

"Oh, I think I'm going to need this in writing," Steve says, and you can pretty much hear the smile in his voice. "Just wait until I rub that in Eddie's face."

He feels your laughter in his chest, as if it were inside his heart. Maybe it is.

After a moment, he whispers against your hair, "You're my favorite person too."

Loved this!

Not gonna lie, I'm in love with Chandler since the first time I watched FRIENDS and it's so sad that out there doesn't seem to exist many fanfics about him.

So, every single fanfic I find is like a gem and this one is one of the best ones that I have read. Loved your writing. Absolutely amazing! 🥰

𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒.

pairings ; chandler bing x female!reader

summary ; chandler goes to monica and rachel's apartment the day after his first date with y/n, only to hear she's on her way over.

warnings ; lots of chandler's pov within third perspective, includes the whole group, fluffy and scared chandler.

word count ; 2.8k

additional notes ; this came to me before a nap two days ago and i needed to write it so bad!

Waking up feeling refreshed was rare for Chandler Bing. Usually, he awoke to the sound of Joey’s snoring in the next room or his alarm clock ringing for work, rubbing his hardly-awake aching eyes and forcing a shirt over his frame to start his day.

Today was much different. Sure, it was a Sunday with no work, but he woke up feeling as happy as ever, a permanent smile upon his face and his heart feeling full while butterflies continue to invade his stomach. Still to dissipate after last night.

Y/n was the cause of this. One of his best friends, part of the group he considers family more-so than the parents he grew up with. One of his favourite people in his life and someone he was falling in love with, greatly.

It was only a few days before that Chandler braved himself enough to tell her, tell her how infatuated he was that it was almost scary to him. He had never felt like this with another person before. And last night Chandler had took her on a date, since she was quick to reply with her returned feelings, to Chandler’s shock.

Chandler remembers how tightly Y/n held his hand despite how clammy his palm must’ve been, or the light-hearted giggles whenever he pulled his collar from how tight it felt while stuttering over another sentence. Or how she smiled against his lips when he kissed her goodnight by her front door.

They were crossing a line, from friendship into something more, and while it was what Chandler wanted, he was still horrendously nervous when it came to it. He didn’t want to mess anything up between both of them and then affect the group.

But the feeling of Y/n’s lips against his proven far too addictive that Chandler was extra willing to try, desperate to feel her kiss again and form what they had into a special bond he hoped would last.

He didn’t have a great track record when it came to relationships, breaking up with each women whenever he got too scared of the commitment, and using any little flaw they had as the reason for bailing. Y/n was different, Chandler already knew her completely. Every flaw and indifference in her life, every quirk and hyper fixation. Each only made Chandler fall in love with her more.

And Chandler knew he would never treat Y/n like he has his previous girlfriends. God forbid he would ever be stupid enough to mess things up with her when she’s the best thing in his life. She makes him feel seen, laughs at all his jokes, helped him quit smoking and makes him never want to go back, loves all the movies he does, and cuddles with him, squished on the one chair after she’s had her heart broken.

No matter how bad Chandler was at comforting someone, unable to find the right words to help support, Y/n always went to him. Out of her six friends, it was always Chandler she went to for comfort. And he never understood it until now, how they were everything to one another.

Glancing at his alarm, Chandler’s eyes nearly pop when realising it’s reaching midday. He was usually an early bird, waking up before everyone else to get ready and start his working day and with the routine it meant most weekends he was still up early.

At least earlier than Joey.

Sure, he walked Y/n home last night just after midnight and then went a long walk himself before returning home, but waking up at midday was a stretch for Chandler. So, he’s quick to get out of bed and change.

Joey wasn’t even home, most likely at Monica and Rachel’s apartment having a late breakfast while Ross reads the newspaper and Phoebe chats in his ear, all likely to wonder why Chandler’s still to appear.

He pairs his beige trousers with a shirt and stripey sweater. Spending an extra few minutes on brushing his teeth and making sure his hair looked perfect in case Y/n dropped by Monica’s at any point. The smile on his face yet to falter.

The group turn to the front door when it slams, Monica refilling the coffee pot while Ross, Rachel, and Joey sit by the kitchen table with aimless chatter. Phoebe rustles with a card packet on the sofa.

They all observe as Chandler walks in with a slight spring in his step, one hand stuffed in his pocket with a grin upon his face while he speaks, “morning!” They all glance at each other, no joke or sarcastic tone as of yet, an unusual happiness radiating off him that they only guessed came from the date last night.

“Look who’s finally up,” Ross says, taking the last sip of his coffee mug and shaking his newspaper when it flops over. Joey nudges him before looking back to his friend, eyebrows wagging, “well, you did get back late last night.”

Chandler pulls a face at him, shaking his head disapprovingly before walking over to the counter by the door, pushing the key dish away before sitting atop it, facing them all as he speaks, “nothing like that happened.”

“You’re smile says otherwise,” Monica teases, from beside the kitchen window. Chandler looks to her before he falters to speak, unsure with where to start, “I just- Y/n was great, it was—” he splutters over himself.

“Good night?” Rachel asks. “Good night? It was the best night.” Chandler finally finds the words to express, taking it further as he thinks back to the best first date of his life, “she’s so great. We had dinner and she gave me her mushrooms because she knows I like them. We talked the entire night, right up until the restaurant was closing and we had be told to leave.”

They are all fond of the change in Chandler, it was unusual to see him so happy and upbeat, lacking in his sarcastic comments which could be tiring within each response. He lets out a chuckle as he thinks back to the night, the waiter coming over and pulling them out of their reverie for them to see they were the only customers left.

Y/n fought to split half the bill with him, leaning over to pry his credit card away from his hand while he uses his free one to usher hers away. Both of them laughing fondly while the waiter keeps a straight face, unamused by their antics and snatching the card from Chandler before they made their way out.

“I walked her home, and we ended up spending more time at her front door, just talking — I never knew two people could find so much to talk about — and then I kissed her goodnight,” a blush arises on Chandler’s cheek as he admits he kissed her and they all let out little ‘woo’s in response, Joey leaning back in his chair to pat his friend’s knee.

“Well, Y/n sounded just as excited on the phone.” Chandler’s expression dropped into shock, Monica turning back to the table to pour more coffee into each friends mugs, “want a cup, Chandler?” she asks but Chandler is too caught up in her previous comment.

“S-she called here?” asks Chandler, Monica’s eyes fleeting to the side, coffee pot frozen in her hand as she airily chuckles, confused, “yeah, she phones every morning, why?”. Chandler runs his hands over the top of his hair, right through the strands he perfected because even though he made sure they were perfect for Y/n to see, he didn’t process that he’ll have to see her the day after their date.

Chandler jumps from his spot to stand in front of her, hands on either of her shoulders, “what did she say?”. Monica tuts, the others chuckling at the old-Chandler returning, the awkward and weird version, “she said you were cute and that you kissed her.”

“That’s all?” Chandler asks and before he can feel relieved, Monica continues, “apart from that, she’s headed over.”

That’s what he was afraid of hearing. Of course she was coming over, she was just as close a friend to everyone as Chandler was. “Oh dear God,” Chandler moves away from his friend and covers his red-beat face with his hands, each of the girls look confused as they watch him go from loved-up and sappy to a nervous wreck in a matter of seconds.

“What did I miss?” Rachel asks, while Ross and Joey only smile awkwardly, “it’s the day after their date,” Joey begins but defensively Rachel continues before he can fully explain, “yeah, so?”.

Chandler pulls his hands away before landing on the back of the chair Joey’s sitting on, looking down at Rachel with a newfound fear in his eyes, “she’s my friend! my best friend, even! Normally the day after the date you don’t see the girl for a few days, especially not the day after.”

“Not unless they’ve slept over if you know—” before Joey can continue in his flirty manner, Chandler cuts in, “I gotta get outta here.” The girls ‘pshh’ in disbelief of the way he’s acting, overdramatic and a little bit rude.

Ross tries to level with him as Chandler turns around to leave, “suck it up, this is Y/n we’re talking about. If you’re the only one not here she’ll think something’s wrong.” Chandler’s still turning towards the door, maybe he’ll leave her a message once he’s back in his own apartment and say he’s sorry he missed her today. Maybe he’ll wait until she’s home later and then they can talk over the phone.

However, before the million thoughts can dissipate into one idea, the door is opening in front of him and in Y/n walks. Chandler has a hand over his mouth while his thoughts ran wild, but the moment she’s in sight, it drops like each worried thought.

She wears a long trench coat and pale coloured scarf to battle the cold New York winter weather, wide-leg trousers with boots peeking out the bottom and Chandler is simply swooning within that moment that he can’t think straight anymore.

He’s kissed this girl. He still can’t believe it.

Y/n’s eyes land on Chandler first and she gives him a warm smile before greeting everyone else, who replies lightly but way too focused on watching the pair interact. She unravels her scarf before shrugging off her coat to place on the hooks by the door, if it were any other day Chandler would’ve helped her, but his feet were glued to the floor.

She looks back to Chandler, entirely delicate and earnest as she walks over. Her hand gently ghosts over his hip while whispering a soft, “hey, Chandler.” Leaning up, she places a kiss to his cheek before moving away from him.

Chandler’s frozen, hand reaching up so his fingers touch the spot she just kissed before turning to the rest of his friend’s once again. Y/n sat by Phoebe, quietly enquiring the girl of her cards who pulls her curious expression away from Chandler to amuse Y/n instead.

The others watch Chandler from behind Y/n’s spot, Joey nodding encouragingly towards the girl while Monica interjects from leaning against the counter, feeling some tension across the room, “coffee, Y/n?”.

“Coffee would be great, thank you, Mon,” Y/n speaks up in her oh-so-sweet voice that makes Chandler think he could melt into a puddle of sappiness and pure love. Compared to the chattiness from them both last night to the quiet on this noon, Chandler knows it’s only because he has to get used to it.

Y/n and him.

Not that he didn’t want that, he had been thinking about Y/n and him for God-knows how long, Chandler had never wanted a relationship as badly as he wanted one with Y/n. But they were friends, and he had never dated a friend before, and it was terrifying to him as much as he loved the idea.

What are they right now? Still just friends? Friends that date? or just dating but happen to be best friends?

It seems anytime Y/n makes eye contact with him that his worrying stops seize so he can focus on how amazing she is. Since his second wave of worries fall the moment she turns to look at him again, that kind smile addicting.

Joey stands from his spot, the lovesick gazes from one another tiring since he knows Chandler is a wimp to do anything about it. He stands behind Chandler, a hand on either of his shoulders before pushing his friend towards the couch, ushering him while the others silently gesture to Y/n so Chandler can make a move.

He clears his throat awkwardly, the sweater added with the situation making Chandler feel overheated when he looks to them all scared before sitting down beside Y/n. He tries to look casual, leaning back on the seat and his arm leaning against the back of the sofa, the space behind Y/n.

Y/n continues to look up at him, his awkward stance somehow not scaring her away as Chandler would expect. Instead, she moves slightly from Phoebe’s side and into Chandler’s, thigh brushing his and her shoulder tucking under his underarm.

There go the butterflies over Chandler’s stomach again at the feeling of Y/n so close to him.

Finally finding the words to speak, Chandler clears his throat again before asking, “hey, uh- did you, uh- sleep well last night?. The gang roll their eyes from behind Y/n’s head at the question, Phoebe looking at Chandler in sympathy before standing from her spot to leave them alone on the sofa.

Before Chandler can curse himself for sounding weird, Y/n’s giggling at how nervous he seems, finding his attitude so cute and so very Chandler. “I slept great, thank you,” her eyes never fail to pull from his, addicting, as her giggle lowers, “did you get home okay?”.

God, she’s so pretty. Chandler thinks before mustering up an answer.

He scratches the tiny stubble upon his jaw, a quirk Y/n had took notice of him doing when he’s nervous and awkward, “yeah, fine, fine,” Chandler replies and his eyes crinkle when he smiles so sweetly, Y/n’s expression matching, “good.”

They can feel their friends eyes on them, so intense that Y/n can’t help but giggle again as she breaks the ice by holding her hand to his jaw gently before quickly leaning in to peck his lips. It’s small and finishes as quick as it happens, Chandler trying to lean towards her after she pulls away.

His mouth agapes, eyes wide and surprised that Y/n was that bold to do it in front of the gang, but more than happy she did. Y/n’s hand then trails from his jaw to the shoulder of his arm rested behind her, fingers poking the sweater material endearingly while Chandler watches.

“You’re awfully tense. Are you okay?” Y/n asks and Chandler is practically swooning at her feet from the affection she’s delivering him, her hand flat and rubbing his arm so lovingly that he wants to bury his head against her neck and keep her as close as he possibly can.

His cheeks are red and mind feels hazy and light, the worries from earlier long gone and feeling less awkward from the moment her lips pecked his, the muscles beneath her touch relaxing. “Yeah, y’know, just went home and lifted some weights last night,” Chandler’s smile grows when Y/n laughs at his sarcasm.

That was the Chandler she knew, and the Chandler she was gravely in love with.

“Is that your post-date routine?” Y/n asks and Chandler outwardly laughs while leaning further into her touch, his friends watching him fall back into the sappy nature he was at first. “Nah, my post-date routine consists of a pit of worrying if I did something wrong and thinking of how pretty you looked in that dress while Joey’s snores keep me up.”

With that Y/n giggles even more, face close to his when she replies, “well, you better get used to that.” Chandler’s nose nudges Y/n’s before he tilts to the side, “more than happy to,” he says under his breath before their lips connect in a longer, more tender kiss than before.

“Alright, alright, get a room, you guys,” they pull away at the sound of Joey’s voice while Monica and Rachel lean over to smack his arm. Chandler looking up while Y/n digs her head into his neck, Chandler forgetting how awkward he was before as he only pulls her comfortingly into his side.

He will definitely get used to this.

⤸

taglist form . the library . chandler bing masterlist

taglist in reblog <3 please remember to support content creators and reblog.

Ugh, I want my boyfriend to drive to see me so we can go home together 😫😫

Steve is the best! Loved the story. ❤️🥰

Make It Back for Christmas (Steve Harrington x Reader)

Make It Back for Christmas (Rated T)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader (gender neutral)

Word Count: 1.9k+

Warnings: Mild brief language, holiday fluff, pining Steve and Reader

Summary: It's the last week of the semester and you're dying to head back home to Hawkins for the holiday festivities. Not only that, but you haven't heard from your boyfriend in a week and you're already going through withdrawals. Will you be able to make it back in time for Christmas?

God, you hated finals week. 

This wasn’t like anything you experienced in your high school years. Or was it? Thanks to the last semester of all-nighters and unbelievable amounts of cram studying, the last four years all blended together. 

Three exams. You had three exams this week. Plus a term paper, a research project… one of your professors thought it would be fun to have an exam and a nine-page paper due the same week. Was it nine pages single-spaced or double? Hell if you knew. Your brain had already begun to hurt just thinking about everything you did to army-crawl your way through to break. Even though most of the hard work was done, you weren’t out of the clear yet— you still had a five hour drive home on Saturday and you hadn't packed yet. 

You just had to select a college five hours away. You hated being away from your home of small town Hawkins, Indiana. You missed your family, your friends. Some nights there was nothing you wanted more than to spend a few hours at the local arcade or the neighboring video store. 

The only thing that made everything seem a bit more bearable was your boyfriend. Usually, Steve would be the first one you would call and talk to after your latest exam or assignment, but you haven’t been able to reach him in days. The two of you had gotten together the summer before you left for college. It was a sweet summer romance story. You had known each other for years, practically growing up together. It was the typical cliche: two friends who had been skirting around their feelings throughout high school, mainly due to one garnering a reputation. 

Although, when you were with Steve, that’s all he was: Steve. Not overly cocky King Steve, not party keg master Steve; he was Steve Harrington, your best friend since preschool who always stole your peanut butter and jelly sandwiches because you hated them. The same Steve who would sit with you for hours in the backyard watching the clouds or the stars, listening to you talk about your superficial problems like they were an international threat of war. The Steve who was so terrified going out on his first date with Samantha Hollis in the sixth grade, he spent most of the morning excessively brushing his hair and gargling mouthwash in your bathroom while talking about his big first kiss plan — a conversation that later had your stomach turning and your dinner in the upstairs toilet. You hadn’t realized it at first, but you had fallen head over heels for your best friend. 

When you finally recognized and came to terms with your feelings for Steve in junior year, it had been too late. He had already started his “perfect” relationship with his dream girl: Nancy Wheeler. You had no malice toward the girl. In fact, you were both good friends. It was just hard to maintain that friendship when all the conversations ever gravitated toward was, well, your shared connection. 

“Steve and I were going to see that movie!”

“Oh, you’ll never believe what Steve said the other night.”

“Oh my god, isn’t he so clumsy? It’s adorable.”

Forced smiles and friendly nods became second nature for you. All you wanted was for Steve to be happy. If he was happy with Nancy, then you were happy for him. You had to admit they made an attractive couple. She was helping him in ways you never could, helping him succeed instead of just encouraging him to try and make a change. They were an unstoppable team. Steve didn’t need you anymore and you had to come to terms with it. You slowly began to distance yourself, just so you could sort through your feelings and not be awkward around them. It made things easier at first. 

Then Nancy broke his heart at Tina’s halloween bash. Suddenly you found yourself thrust back and immersed into Steve’s life once more. Only this time, you leaned into his touches a little more than usual. You two sat a bit too close at movie night. You split too many meals at the local diner. It was only when Dustin Henderson made a passing comment about how the two of you acted like an old married couple did you snap back to reality and attempt to distance yourself from Steve again. He didn’t need to lose the love of his life and another friend at the same time because you couldn’t keep your feelings in check. So you resorted to only hang around him with the kids when he needed to play carpool, taking them to the arcade, or the farmer’s market, or even the grocery store to pick up 

This only seemed to confuse your best friend. “Why aren’t you spending time with me?” he asked you when you brought El and Max to the mall over the summer. 

“What are you talking about?” you tried to appear nonchalant, like you weren’t doing this on purpose even if it killed you. Unfortunately, your poker face needed some much needed work. 

“No, no,” the look he gave you that day would haunt you forever. Steve looked like you had just kicked his puppy right in front of him. “Don’t bullshit me. You’ve been avoiding me all summer since we graduated. The only time I ever see you is with the kids and even then you spend more time with Dustin than me!”

It was true. After Dustin had oh-so-kindly exposed your emotions, you had somehow convinced the child to be your partner in distracting you from Steve. Well, it was less of a convincing and more of a “if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll lovingly end you” type of agreement. He stuck to you like Velcro when the three of you went out, making sure there were very few interactions that could lead into moments of longing. 

“It’s nothing, Steve,” you had tried explaining with no success. “Dustin just really wants my attention is all, I guess.” 

A frown on his face, Steve turned away mumbling something under his breath. You weren’t quite sure at the time, but it did sound oddly similar to, “he’s not the only one.”

It wasn’t until you found yourselves trapped in a Russian underground that you had to face more than one fear. Trapped in your own room, the soldiers tried to get you to admit how you found their base. They had even stabbed you with some type of drug, which you would only later discover its use. You couldn’t tell how long it was before you were released with the help of your best friend. Steve had looked so worse for wear, but even in the chaos, he was only concerned about your safety and well-being. 

“Are you okay?!” his slurred speech inquired as he ran hands up and down your arms before cradling your face. 

You weren’t sure if it was the stress or the inclusion of a truth serum in your system, but you did the only thing you could think of to answer his incessant questions: you leaned forward and kissed him. 

And he kissed you back. 

From that moment on, everything was different. You had gone from being best friends, to two people who went out to dinner, to being in an honest to goodness relationship. Just over a year later, you’re sat in your dorm room with a receiver broadcasting a busy signal in your ear. 

This was the sixth time this week Steve hadn’t answered the phone. He hadn’t called for his daily good morning or good nights. He didn’t call to check in on you during what he knew was going to be a stressful week. Concerned about his safety, you reached out to Dustin several times, who assured you that Steve was fine. He was just busy with all of the families renting out movies for the holidays. You knew you weren’t entitled to his time, but all the same…it had been a long week and all you wanted was to hear your boyfriend’s voice. 

Allowing a sigh to escape your lips, you dialed Steve’s number again, this time with the intent to leave a message. When the recording of his mother’s bored yet powerful voice played, you bit your lip to refrain from showing too much emotion over the phone. “Hey Steve,” you started. “It’s uh, it’s me calling…again. I just wanted to let you know that I, uh, that I miss you. Miss hearing your voice, seeing you. And I hope that you’re doing okay. Just a few more days until I can start my drive home and see you!” 

You let out a sad chuckle as there was a knock on your bedroom door. Your roommate, Allie, probably wanted to use the phone since you’d been hogging it for a few hours. “Oh, I gotta go. Call me back soon, okay? Love you.” As you hung up the phone, you moved to open the door. “Sorry, Allie. Just wanted to make sure-“

“Make sure I was doing okay?” A familiar voice cut you off and your breath caught in your throat.  You couldn’t believe it. Standing in front of you with rosy frost bitten cheeks, tired eyes, and the brightest smile you’ve ever seen was Steve. “I’d say I’m doing much better now that I’ve seen you, sweetheart.”

Without much thought, you ran into his arms and kissed him. And kissed him. And kissed him one more time, just for good measure. It was messy, all smiles and awkward breathing, but it was perfect. “What-“ you stuttered in surprise once you caught your breath. “What are you doing here? Why haven't you called?!”

Steve grinned sheepishly, head bent down to stare right in your gaze. A few strands of his perfectly unruly dark hair fell directly in his line of sight and you automatically moved your hand to brush it away. “I knew if I picked up the phone it would be really hard for me to keep my mouth shut. Did you really think I’d let my baby drive home alone for Christmas?” he said with mock disdain. “I don’t think that would make me a very good boyfriend, do you?”

“I have a car.”

“Yeah,” your boyfriend nodded in agreement, “but why waste gas if you’re not going to use it in Hawkins.” 

You frowned. What was he talking about? 

“Baby, you’re with the Harrington car service,” Steve’s smooth voice rolled over you like honey. “It’s door-to-door service, even during your trip.”

“….so you’re kidnapping me and not letting me drive my own car.” 

Steve gave a small huff, shoulders slouched. “Gee, when you put it like that…you really sucked the romance out of it, babe. You know I did just drive five hours-“

You silenced him with a gentle kiss to the lips. While not as rough or as passionate as the first reunion, it was just as loving. Your fingers curled around the soft fabric of his white Henley top and pulled him closer. He stumbled a bit from the action, but soon rested his hands on either of your hips, a low hum vibrating his throat. 

“I love you,” you whispered. 

The smile on Steve’s face stretched out to be a mile wide. “I love you, too, baby,” he replied, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “Now come on. Let’s get you all packed up.”

You laughed at his dramatic hand gestures before he crossed his way into your room. “Your chariot awaits, my dear,” he mused, turning his head to glance back at you over his shoulder. “It’s time to get you back home for Christmas.”

====================

Author's Note: So this is happening. Is everyone excited?! To say I've been looking forward to this event for the last month plus now. I just want to give a small shout-out and thank you to two very amazing people, @bakerstreethound (for encouraging me to keep writing) and @upsidedownwithsteve (for inspiring me to try my hand at this -- so sorry for the tag!).

Writing this and some of the other fics for this event have me convinced Steve would be the perfect boyfriend around the holidays, even if he may be a bit of Scrooge sometimes. The number of times I've smiled writing these pieces...I've lost count. But stay tuned because we have a lot more headed your way (including some dad!Steve...)!

If you liked this post and want to see more like it on my blog, please make sure to leave a comment and reblog it! While likes are appreciated, it's these two things that really help spread the word about my writing and motivate me to keep making new content! Until next time, my little sparks! <3

“There is a war inside of Butcher, and to get to the dawn, you must first travel through the night. Butcher has both the tendency to be the villain and the hero, which makes him a hell of a lot of fun to play.” – Karl Urban for GQ Magazine.

Espero que já tenham ouvido Viento Helado do Rocco Posca. Mas caso não tenham, ouçam:

I think I'm in love with giggling Bakugou... Loved your writing 😍

✝ 𝖠𝖫𝖫 𝖨 𝖶𝖠𝖭𝖳 𝖥𝖮𝖱 𝖢𝖧𝖱𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖬𝖠𝖲 (𝖨𝖲 𝖸𝖮𝖴) — 𝖪.𝖡𝖠𝖪𝖴𝖦𝖮𝖴

i was in the mood to write something fitting for this season, even though i’m not really a fan of christmas. thank you @dilfteracy for reading this and supporting me with your amazing commentary.

𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦. katsuki bakugou x genderneutral!reader

𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲. fluff, language, mentions of alcohol, underage drinking (listen, it’s legal to drink at the age of 16 in germany)

𝖬𝖠𝖲𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖫𝖨𝖲𝖳

I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need 

Bakugou scoffs into his cup of hot cocoa. He’s had about three of them now, spiked with a good amount of rum Mina managed to sneak past Aizawa’s observant eyes, but the alcohol has yet to unfold its effect to make the voice of Maria Carey somewhat bearable as she sings the lines to her infamous Christmas song for the fourth, no, fifth time that evening, warbling her high-pitched notes through the sound boxes Momo and Jirou placed in each corner of the common room for the party his class planned. 

To enjoy the last days of school together before everyone leaves to spend the holidays with their families, they had explained after he had nearly blown off the decorations a few days prior, bellowing at them why on earth they’d even want to throw a party as stupid as this one, but now, as he glowers over the rim of his mug, he’s convinced they set it up for the sole purpose of getting on his nerves. 

(and I) don’t care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree

But despite his initial dislike of this party, he has to admit that his classmates did a decent job at capturing the festive spirit for this night — red and green ornament decorate the walls, colorful stockings that carry the names of his friends are filled with sweets and hang upon the fireplace and there’s a distinct smell of vanilla and cinnamon tickling his nose.

I don’t need to hang my stocking there upon the fireplace

Somewhere near the kitchen, Denki is fighting Sero over a batch of freshly baked cookies Sato brought, though their playful banter seems to be more to the amusement of his classmates who have gathered around them to watch their antics. With their red hats and equally ugly Christmas sweaters, they somehow resemble angry elves in Santa’s toy factory and despite trying to keep a stern face, Bakugou can’t help but crack a smile at his friends.

Yeah, they’re idiots, but at least everyone seems to have a good time.

Santa Claus won’t make me happy with a toy on Christmas Day

Between the cheers of his friends and the unwavering tootling of yet another Christmas carol, he can faintly hear your voice, laughing softly with someone. Instinctively, his eyes scan the crowded room to catch a glimpse of your face, but you’re neither standing among the group of students howling at Dunceface who has proceeded to throw cookies at Sero’s head nor does he find you talking to some of the girls sitting on the sofa and around the small table, happily reaching for the snacks as they chatter away.

“Were you looking for me?” You ask with a raised brow, pushing a plate of baked goods into his hand before you settle for a spot beside him, comfortably leaning against his shoulder. A smile creeps across your lips when he shrugs, suddenly far more interested in the pink marshmallows floating around his hot chocolate, though the treacherous blush that tints his cheeks and reaches the tips of his ears tells you that you caught him red-handed. “Hey, I’m talking to you, idiot. Are you enjoying the party?”

I just want you for my own

“Yeah, ‘s alright,” he mumbles softly. Blonde lashes flutter against his brow bone when he looks back at you, sharp gaze studying the curve of your nose, the space between your eyes and the smoothness of your cheeks, tracing each feature with a hint of secret admiration. A grin flickers across his lips, baring his teeth for just one second before it disappears behind his usual scowl and he slumps against your back, focuses on your body heavy and warm against his own — he likes it, the feeling of your shoulders touching and his fingers faintly grazing your hand as he stands there with you and suddenly Bakugou realizes he likes you. 

More than you could ever know

He actually likes you. 

Right, maybe he’s had too much of that stupid rum Mina mixed into that awfully sweet hot chocolate and a part of him is becoming aware of the blush that creeps up the back of his neck and seems to flush his entire face in embarrassing heat, but before he can stop himself, he’s fucking giggling. Tears prickle at the corners of his eyes as he tries to stifle the sounds behind his raised hand, clasped tightly over his mouth until he can’t take it anymore and drops his head on your shoulder, laughing quietly into your hair.

“What’s going on with you now?” You ask. There’s a teasing lilt to your voice that coaxes another fit of giggles out of him and you swear it’s the most beautiful sound you have ever heard. “Katsu, c’mon! What’s so funny?”

“I think I like you,” he wheezes, barking out a laugh. His hands find yours, fingers curl tightly around your wrists and then he’s sliding down the wall, pulling you with him to the floor where he gently knocks his head against yours. There’s a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth and you think you should be alarmed, because you’ve never seen him like this before or maybe you should take the empty cup out of his grasp and keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t get another sip of the spiked cocoa, but this is—

Make my wish come true

"You think?” You repeat quietly, full of hope.

“Yeah,” he mutters after a beat and turns his head. For a moment, neither of you dares to say more before he finally leans in to press his lips against yours in a clumsy kiss that faintly tastes like hot chocolate and rum and your heart punches your ribcage in excitement. “I like you, dumbass.”

All I want for Christmas is you