DannyAk

The bet

Pairing: Robin Buckley x reader, Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: Steve and Robin made a bet to see who could win you over first, the thing is you like them both

Tw: Tarot, Mentions of religion and the devil

I always knew there was something weird about this Steve guy. First of all, he was way too handsome, and it was not the way that I desired him from afar but an obvious fact. Everyone knew he was handsome.

Second of all his best friend, that Robin girl, was clearly a homosexual. It was another fact, clear as day, and I didn't think that because I was judgy or cruel. I mean come on, who thought this girl was straight? She genuinely spent a good amount of the time checking me out. I'm sorry but if you look at my breasts I'm going to notice, and there is nothing straight about these two checking me out constantly.

My favorite people to hang out? People who are obviously and genuinely attracted to me. I won the lottery when I got to work at a local video shop and met these two bombshells who were absolutely undoubtedly looking at my ass 90% of the time.

I hung around with my spaghetti strap tops, with my favorite yarn-softest sweaters and the comfiest cargo pants when Steve approached me while I was reorganizing subtly the teens section in rainbow order. Looked good and it was absolutely exasperating for the customers so it was pure evil and I love pure evil.

-"You always look so soft"- Steve startled me from my left. Gosh, is this guy trying to give me a heart attack?

He had his head resting on the side of the shelf and looked at me as he was looking at the biggest marshmallow he had ever seen, which actually made me feel like when I was in minute 29 of my daily 30 minutes of cardio.

-"Why, because of my cardigans?"- I knew I was blushing, because my hands get all hot.

-"and your hair"- I smiled, and put my hands up, as if I was asking to be hugged, making grabby hands at him.

-"Want to see if I'm actually as soft as I look?"- I dared. I may be blushing but that doesn't mean I'm not a flirty fuck.

He smiled and nodded while he smugly indulged in my invitation, wrapping his hands around me nuzzling into my hair -" oh wow you are actually softer than you look"- this guy was on drugs.

-"What, what is going on here"- Robin approached us. Thankfully Steve was not covering me with his entire body anymore, but he still had me grabbed by the waist and was whispering to me about how he was so jealous of my hair and how he would kill for his to be so soft as he said grabbing strands of my hair and twisting them on his fingers.

-"What's wrong with him?"- Robin said as he sheepishly smiled at me and I looked and scratched his head and messed up with his hair.

-"He seems high"- I laughed slightly. I gave him a kiss on the cheek and said -"Back to work Harrington"-

Robin scoffed at him while laughing at the way he looked totally clueless and then said -"Dude are you actually seriously high"- She was laughing, no she was coughing, she was laughing so hard she was crying.

-"I don't think so"- said a very confident Steve who was absolutely delighted with the result of his weird little scene.

Then came the day of the finals week, when Harrington had not slept in 3 days and had a terrible headache so we let him sleep at the documentaries section on the back, none except my friend Mike who had this thing about saving the tropical forest or some shit.

-"Hey"- Robin looks at me with a nervous grin -"Have you ever, I mean"- she looks at me like trying to dare to do something, nervously twisting her fingers and her hair.

-"What's wrong? Are you considering changing your mind about being frightened by the Tarot and want me to make you your first lecture?"- I said deadly serious. It was hard to be nervous when I said the stupidest thing that came to my mind in a super serious tone.

-"No, and what no that shit scares me, I told you that's some devil's shit"- She laughed then looked mortified again.

-"I don't believe it's "devil's shit" I pouted -"Also that's dumb, everything cool is some evil devilish deadly thing"- I laughed -"Like Doctor Robbins said We have no escape; it seems that everything we do to earn a living, survive or enjoy it is illegal, immoral, fattening or, what is worse, can be carcinogenic!"- I quoted solemnly.

-"Has anyone told you that you look so soft? Like your cardigans and your hair it all looks like comfy"-I love this guys.

-"I am soft, come here feel it"- I wrapped her in my arms as if she was a teddy bear and as she wrapped her hands in my waist I kissed her lips -"What's with you and Harrington flirting with me competitively"- I brushed her lips with my thumb.

-"We made a bet, I told him you were a lesbian and he said you weren't so we made a deal that we would use the same way of flirting with you and whoever won was going to be able to get the movie for movie night with the nuggets"- she rambled as I smiled.

So I was right.

They both have a crush on me.

-"Too bad, I am not a lesbian. But I'm also not not a lesbian"- I joked -"I like boys and girls"- she opened her eyes.

-"Fuck, wait but who do you like more, me or Steve"-

-"I would take any of you any day gorgeous"- I grabbed her hair and gave her a deeper kiss.

Puppy eyes

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x reader

Summary: You were just trying to make sure he was okay, doctor au

Tw: Hospital, a non specified fracture, medical talk soccer, cussing,

He was just about to score a goal when some idiot, I mean a respectable player from the other team, absolutely tackled him, how was this even allowed? Did none see how fucking harsh this man was with Bellingham?

Oh fuck, he was coming, he was coming to where I was, he was sitting down, like a puppy someone just kicked, can I legally kill a soccer player? I'm so fucking mad my blood is boiling and at this point I don't think I can calm down.

Until I approach him, carefully examining his face, his eyes, making sure that he passes the eye exams, making sure there is no sign of confusion, of vertigo, of dyslalia, anything that might make him feel hurt, I hate when they hurt one of these guys, but I hate even more when they hurt Jude.

-"How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?"- I say, in an attempt at a professional question that sounds more like a worried cry.

-"I think I, I am okay, it's just my knee hurts, it hurts a lot."- Sure, it's where they kicked him, those brutes.

-"On a scale of 1 to 10 how would you classify your pain?"- I managed to sound more professional this time. -"10 being the worst pain you've ever experienced and 1 being close to nothing."-

-"We need to take this guy for a radiography, he's positive for the McMurray test, pain on the wrist at exploration at distal ends of the radius and ulna."- I ordered to my colleague and told the technical director, while we took him to more specialized care on the medical transport vehicle provided for instances like this, my anger returned.

-"No puede ser que estos malditos idiotas no se fijen en el daño que les hacen, míralo, me da cosa, todo lastimado, pobrecito."- I told my driver friend Pedro, who saw the altercation and also spoke Spanish, I didn't know that Bellingham spoke it too, and was deeply offended by me calling him poor thing and saying I felt bad to see him all hurt.

-"No necesito lástima, gracias."- he said with a sarcastic tone, saying he didn't need any pity, god am I stupid, obviously he spoke Spanish.

Pedro conveniently didn't answer me, or actually just turned deaf, as he put music on and seemed to completely ignore us in the back of the car.

-"No digo que des lástima, dije que me da lástima, mírate, tienes una condición física excelente para que un bruto venga a golpearte porque se le da la gana, pues no."- I defended myself, telling him he wasn't the one who portrayed pity but I was the one that felt bad for him, I mean talking about his excellent body condition might be overstepping but I stood by my statement that a brute had no business hitting him like that.

The next day I realized that he had actually followed me online, ever since then I had been assigned as his doctor, I went where he went, I treated him every time he was hurt.

We slowly formed a bond that was very close to being friends, close friends actually, we started talking every day and sending each other texts about everything and anything.

-"Jude I need to talk to you."- I said in a serious tone one day when he and I were alone, we were talking about everything and anything and the moment of truth had to come out. -"I don't think I can be your doctor anymore."- I almost whispered, it was a harsh truth.

A lethal and honest piece of myself that I had no choice but to share with him, not because I didn't want to treat him, but because I was dangerously close to overstepping a line I couldn't cross.

-"Hey, think about it,"- he said with his puppy eyes, those puppy eyes said more than any word in the world, no matter what language it was in. -"if the problem is monetary I will take personal care of anything."-

I smiled, he was so sweet, too sweet, and that's why I couldn't stay here.

-"I,"- this was going to be harder than I thought as my mouth went completely dry and I felt my heart pound and my skin start to sweat. -"I, it's just, I'm having unprofessional feelings, romantic feelings for you and,"-

I refused to look at him in the eye, if I looked and he was disgusted or anything unpleasant I would, I would.

He grabbed my hand, he looked almost excited, playful even.

-"So unprofessional feelings huh?"- he looked happy, why did he look happy and relaxed and scared at the same time, how could he look all those things and still be breathtakingly beautiful.

-"That's too bad because, I have unprofessional feelings for you too, romantic unprofessional feelings."- he said as he stole a kiss from my lips, as playful as he always was with me.

The summer l met my Viking p.2

Pairing: Erling Haaland x reader

Summary: Haaland and you have been developing a great friendship that keeps growing and becomes more and more flirty

Tw: soccer, cussing, thick accent and tall people, the ocean, ice cream, coconut ice cream

He picked me up at 5, we made a habit of him picking me up, us going to wherever and doing whatever.

-"Tell me why you keep doing this,"- I asked him without looking at him in the eyes, this gentle giant, this man that had only extended to me companionship and respect. -"You pick me up, we go to the beach or to have dinner, if you think you still owe me for that time, I assure you you have sealed your debt a long time ago."-

I was mortified, the reality is that I was slowly falling for this guy, and what could I do, my sister the die-hard fan of Jude Bellingham always described Haaland as a smiley person, I would describe him as the sun, I couldn't stop thinking how to tell him that he is making me go crazy, he makes me talk and I'm an absolute introvert, it's scary how much I've grown to like him.

I'm not made for love, I don't know how to make it subtle or to take it slow.

I don't know what goes on in your head when you look at me and you don't kiss me.

-"I like to have, to spend time with you,"- he said in that voice that made me crazy, that accent, that way to slowly talk while he focused on saying the words in the correct order. -"You are my favorite, my person."-

I look at his face and I doubt if I actually know him as much as I thought, and yet I'm terrified of ruining something innocent for trying to make it something it might not be.

-"We've known each other for 4 months, I can't be your person if you don't know me enough."- I've never felt this shy.

-"I need you,"- he said grabbing my face, almost aggressively, like trying to make me understand something. -"You have something I need, Du er min sol, min kjærlighet, Ord kan ikke beskrive min kjærlighet til deg."-

We arrived at a small shop at the side of the beach and he parked, the sunset already setting by our side.

-"Ice cream?"- I asked him.

-"Coconut."-

-"Coconut ice cream?"-

-"Yes."-

We sat down on a bench in front of the most beautiful sunset, I laid my head on his arm because I couldn't reach his shoulder, and we ate silently, sharing spoonfuls of coconut ice cream.

-"You are not pretty,"- I said and he started cackling.

-"What you mean I'm not pretty, I'm very pretty."-

-"I'm not saying you're ugly, you are not pretty."-

-"That's ridiculous, I am very pretty,"- He said letting his hair down and then posing, making a duck face and batting his eyelashes at me.

We laughed until our stomachs hurt, and our stomachs were full of ice cream.

-"You are pretty,"- he said inspecting my face. -"But you are mean."-

-"Why am I mean?"-

-"Because you say I'm not pretty."-

-"You are not, you are, handsome maybe, masculine in an attractive way, but you aren't pretty."-

Big mouth strikes again

Pairing: Erling Haaland x reader

Summary: You had a crush on Haaland in high school, then he became famous and you were comfortable being one of his fangirls, until you make the mistake of forgetting DMs are a two way street.

Tw: cussing, thick accent and tall people, drawing made by me

Me having a crush on him was like the moon looking at the sun for light, obvious, inevitable, unexplainable.

But why would a guy like that notice me? I was absolutely clumsy. I was not the prettiest person alive or the most funny or clever. I had the bad habit of devouring books and then using words way too big for anyone’s vocabulary, ending up with guys liking me complaining about having to use a dictionary just to be able to be with me.

Was I the one who made being nice to me impossible? Approaching topics like entropy and the conspiracy theory that all bald men are secretly evil? I don’t actually think they are evil. I like watching people's faces when they debate between playing along and having a banter with me or telling me how absolutely ridiculous I was.

So liking this always-smiling, tall-ass guy from my school who looked like an actual Viking was something so stupid, because in what world would he notice me? And how would that work? I talk until he goes insane?

That’s what I thought at least, until he became famous and then I didn’t have anything to worry about anymore. He would absolutely never notice me now.

So I did what any normal fangirl of Haaland would do. I used his DMs as a personal diary where I sent him my art of him and my grocery list, except I miscalculated something: he can actually answer those.

-“Wow, you draw that?”- he replied to my newest drawing of him, the one I just sent him a few seconds ago even before I got to my usual rant about my process and how I was such a fan.

-“I know you”- I audibly gasped while I tried to think of an answer, a prayer, or a dark forces invocation strong enough to make this stop or keep going forever. Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, be -“we went to school together, hi 👋”-

-“Fuck”- I said -“What in the actual fuck”- I saw the typing emoji as he wrote and rewrote something -“fuck fuck fuck”-

-“I see you write a lot”- he typed -“Are you a writer now? You were always smart”- what do I do now? This is so embarrassing. This might be the actual death of me, the definition of something so stupid no one thinks it might happen.

-“oh, hello Erling, I actually never thought you would see this. I'm so embarrassed omg, forget you ever saw this”- dude, was I the dumbest person alive or what?

-“ Why forget”- gosh, he was so slow to write these damn texts, or was the adrenaline pumping through my veins the one responsible for making me see space-time slowed down? I could absolutely watch a fly with some chopsticks over here -“I thought we can catch up”-

Am I hallucinating or did he just ask me to catch up?

-“Want to go to dinner with me?”-

We’re going to be friends

Pairing: Eddie Mudson x reader

Summary: You are a cheerleader who ends up stuck with Eddie the freak Mudnson when your friend Chrissy suddenly dies and you have to escape.

Tw: Criying , Cheerleaders, Death

-"Maybe I do hate you, have you ever thought about that? I bet you think so, don't you? Aren't you tired of the expectations bestowed upon me by, by everyone?"- I told, no I yelled at him, at this long-haired curly bastard who looked at me expectantly, almost confused.

We end up sharing a hideout after Jason Carver, the crazy son of a bitch, the now ex-boyfriend of my recently deceased best friend Chrissy, went berserk and started saying that me and my satanist boyfriend—first of all, he's not my boyfriend, he's my enemy for now—and I'm so sick of women getting blamed for male mistakes.

Not my fault the devil lives in his house or whatever. Now I have to hide with this weirdo in a cabin in the middle of somewhere.

-"Hey, it's okay, you know, come here"- he said in a gentle sweet tone like the way he talked to Chrissy.

-"I just, I can't pretend anymore to be some sort of mean girl, that's what we are, and I'm sick of it. I'm sick of that Jason dude always doing some sort of pyramid with our school where he's always on the top."-

-"Hey hey, it's okay"- he said to me in a sweet tone while I refused to move to his side to let him comfort me.

I'm not weak.

I'm not someone you have to comfort.

Yet I looked into those brown puppy eyes and I saw this metal head—really looked at him—and I understood why Chrissy was so moved by his persona even at her last moments. He had a gentle voice, trustworthy eyes, and ironically smelled wonderful. I thought dirty weird guys smelled horribly, yet maybe he's just weird.

So I did not because I was some child or a weak person, but because his kindness dripped from his tongue like honey and, even after all I saw, he was the only one who would understand what it was like to be absolutely terrified, beyond yourself, dealing with some trauma none can know.

-"I'm so sorry about what I said about you. You don't deserve any of this"- I said with my tear-filled face while I put my head on his shoulder and let him pat my back as if he wasn't sure if he had my permission to touch me but was trying to be as supportive as it gets.

-"I know, I know it's not—it's a shit situation, okay? And I only have you, and it's going to be shit, okay? But we have this shit to share, so now we're bonded for life, and come on, we're no strangers."- I put my head on his lap, because maybe I was weak, maybe there was a raw realness to my own pathetic little feelings.

Maybe this is what it felt like to finally stop trying to be perfect and trying to fit in, to actually meet the real me and like it.

-"Remember the second day of kindergarten, where you were a year older than me and you saw me crying for my dad and you took me to my classroom and left me with my teacher?"- I said laughing in between tears, with a runny nose probably red by now.

-"Wait, was that you?"- he said patting my head a bit too hard while he laughed. -"I made fun of Jenny Harding for that."-

-"What the fuck, and what did she say?"-

-"Nothing, she just stormed off offended. Maybe she thought she forgot about it or something. Wow, fuck, I won't apologize to her though, she insulted my kid Mike for being skinny as a fucking toothpick. Everyone knows he's as skinny as a toothpick, leave the poor dude alone."-

-"That's so evil, you are evil"- I say while I crackle embarrassingly loud.

So maybe this Munson kid wasn't a satanist or anything like that.

The summer I met my Viking

Pairing: Erling Haaland x reader

Summary: Haaland hits you with his car door when he’s trying to run away from paparazzi.

Tw: Hospital, a hit with a door, soccer, cussing, thick accent and tall people

I keep looking at this strange Viking in front of me as I fade away. I was just passing by, waiting for my annoying sister who was stalking some soccer player. I was waiting standing here like a good fucking sister, reading the goddamn Communist Manifesto because I realized I don’t know anything about communism and how can I live like that? I mean, I read Orwell, I read The Hunger Games, and I don’t know the base, the movement that changed the way society viewed this world and government structure… until an arsehole hit me with what I assume was the goddamn door of his car.

I wake up in a cold bed with the most intense and horrible headache of my life, and I open my eyes to find a very apologetic face, a gigantic face of a gigantic arsehole.

I don’t mean gigantic as a metaphor or a joke; he is an actual gigantic person. He’s probably 1.90m or something like it. I mean, I’m not gonna say I’m so tiny or anything, but in comparison, he’s terrifying.

-“Hello, I’m Erling”- he said, and subsequently he ran out of the room and started to say something about help and doctor.

-“What a fuck is happening?”- I say as I slowly sit down in my bed and try to remember what happened. Oh yeah.

-“I hit you in the face with a car and I’m sorry”- the man explained to me with a very strong accent -“I was running away from paparazzi and I hit you and I ran to the hospital and we’re here and I’m sorry.”-

-“Can you give me my phone, or I just need to contact my family?”- He looked at me with an apologetic expression again.

-“I need to ask you to not speak about this, because I’m a soccer player and fans are going to hunt you.”-

-“Who are you anyway that fans have to hunt me down?”-

-“I’m Erling Haaland.”-

-“This is not a productive conversation. Can you give me a phone?”-

-“I’ll take you where you live.”-

I don’t know how, but I agreed for this man to take me to my grandma's house where I was staying for the summer.

-“I’ll come visit you, have your things, and I’ll call you tomorrow.”- he said this as he left me at the front door. Thank goodness my family wasn’t in the house. I sat there in the room I had to share with my soccer-crazy sister while I waited for some divine intervention for what happened to me and who that man was and why did he take me home after feeding me and giving me his number.

Was this God saying something? Was I destined to be harassed by this random Viking who I just met?

Can I have a metal head snack?

Pairing: Eddie munson x reader, minor Mike x Will Byers

Summary: Mike Wheeler your annoying little brother is friends with your crush Eddie Munson, so you sit by his table and start rambling

Tw: for a lot of punches, minor references ab substances, lots of cussing, English not being first language

So I do the stupid thing and sit with my little brother and his friends, and his friend, Eddie the Munson freak, the cutest little metal head in the scene, the scene is relatively little here in a little town like Hawkins.

I’m not legally allowed to talk about the scene because most of them are closeted homosexuals, lesbians and punks.

And them punks punch like a motherfucker and I’m not getting another hit for anyone, maybe except for Eddie.

-“Dude, you have a sister?”- Dustin says with an enthusiastic tone and an incredulous laugh -“I mean we knew about Nancy but who, who is this lady right here?, a pleasure to meet you by the way”- he says stretching my hand

-“Shut up guys. Guys this is my sister”- Mike my baby brother Mike oh I love this guy he is a closeted homosexual but I can’t discuss it because he’s also the fake punk who punches like a motherfucker -“I told you to make other friends, why are you sitting with us”-

I rolled my eyes, -“Dude you can’t just say find friends and leave me here stranded I mean dude, have you seen these fucking posers out here talking about Bowie this Bowie that, Bowie is an icon dude is not fucking Madonna, talk your senseless pop culture about your stupid pop stars leave Ziggy out of your nonsense, also I can’t find a chick dressed decently in here, no tattoos no cool makeup none has a piercing or is wearing eyeliner, where am I the Catholic Church?”- I start rambling about the catholic school and how I found more amusing sitting down at the table with the lord than sitting with Chelsea and whatever her lipgloss drama about some Rachel stealing her lip taste or whatever

-“So hi lady, my name is Eddie pleasure to meet you any family of Wheeler is our family, but also what are you talking about”- he says staring at me and I blush

-“Sorry, so I was in a religious school in Mexico and I just got back to normal school”- I think I just confused everyone a bit more with what I said

-“My sister she thought it was a great idea to scam the public school system and trade the residue chalk as a”- I shut him up

-“ Dude they don’t need to know anything about that”-

-“Alright alright Wheelers calm down”- says the man the Eddie guy -“yes you can hang out with us but first I need to get to know you better”-

-“Mike, if you punch me again I’ll get you back into the prank war with your little friend”-

-“oh no why are you saying that”-

-“You know why”-

He did in fact know what I was saying because a week ago when I found him and the Byers kid smooching out in the living room while I sneaked in and I yelled “knew it, knew it” he punched me in the face.

Then we had a talk I told him that he can't have all the metal heads in town for himself and he told me he would punch me again if I tried anything with Eddie; that was because he has been my crush for ages.

-“Why are Wheelers so violent”- Said an annoyed Will sitting down at the table -“let the girl have her snack”- Will said nudging at the side of a very annoyed Mike

-“I am so fucking confused right now”- said Eddie exasperated

I turned to him and said

-“Just nice to meet you”- and smiled while I offered my hand to shake it

-“I’ll kill her”- said Mike

-“ Don’t you dare”- Said Will

-“ If you want to know me better why don’t we schedule an interview”- I said trying to be cute and not an evil force of nature as I was

-“You know what that sounds great, how about at my house at 7”-

-“Sounds like a plan”-