#Flow Conditioner
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donghyuckkies · 11 months ago
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why is it so fucking hot and why is it gonna get even hotter 😭
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icewindandboringhorror · 2 years ago
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... how am I meant to get any sort of restful sleep when it's like 85F indoors in my bedroom at NIGHT .. hhhhhhhhhhhhhh
#why the next poll adventure and everything else has taken so long lol.. I straight up have just not done anything#the past few days... staring down my todo list and sweating hopelessly#AT LEAST it;s relatively low humidity. the highest it's been up to is maybe 65%. but is usually around 50 or 40ish#There is one small window air conditioner in a roomate's room that can KIND OF be shared by nailing a sheet up to block off the hallway#with the rooms in it so the cool air goes into the other bedrooms but doesnt flow out into the kitchen or etc but#wjhen it's the time of day that the sun is directly hitting the window & it's like 102F outside even that doesnt help much. to cool 3 rooms#and I always feel like we're going to explode the air conditioner or something running it too much with direct heat on it. sometimes it#smells like hot plastic or whatever ghj.. so it's mostly just.. block off all windows with 5 layers of blankets and cardboard#starting at 10am (meaning.. no indoor light for days basically.. no natural lighting.. time passes weird. hard to determine time of day).#throw water on the bed every night so you sleep in wet sheets and keep your clothes and hair wet at all times. ice. cold drinks. keep a#little fan running pointed directly at you nearly 24/7 even when sleeping with a fan blowing air on you makes your eyes and throat painfull#dry. etc. etc.. and i KNOW people have it worse in plenty of places blah blah. i am just complaining on my little blog that is about me lol#I think the biggest thing about lack of adequate/central air conditioning for me is just the LACK of productivity!!! I am working on games!#and novels!! and so many other crafts. costumes! sculptures!!! things I want to do!!! we all have a limited amount of time on this planet a#nd I have so many goals!! To lose basically 4-5 days straight or producivity - when if I had been able to temperature#control my environment better I could have easily gotten more done because I wouldn't be laying around nuseous and too hot#and sick to do anything all day etc. -- is like.... GRRRRRR... it just feels so senseless.. i could have USEd that time...#Every CEO who has contributed to global warming owes me 1million doallrs to fund my art projects and make up for all the time#I've lost on them due to their stupid bullshit.. also they should be stoned to death in a public square. but redistribute the money FIRST#to everyone on the planet. but especially people who have been affected by floods. fires. etc. etc.#poor people who have limited choice in housing and access to air conditioning. homeless people in cooling centers. people with disabillitie#and health issues that are worse in the heat so the entire future just seems increasingly terrifying for them. etc. etc.#ANYWAY.... eughhhgh.... It can cool down SLIGHTLY at night but the past few nights I have been sleeping in an 81 degree room and I wake up#and first thing in the morning its like 82 by then and I'm so nauseous and nasty feeling... just so so tired of it.. I NEED SNOW#literally not even joking.. snow would heal me. .. oughffff...#AND i got the new nasty stinky poo poo pee pee tumblr dashboard update lol.. e v i l
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bluelockmaniac · 11 months ago
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SPLASH .ᐟ
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ft. itoshi sae, itoshi rin, michael kaiser, mikage reo, seishiro nagi, & meguru bachira (honourable mention) x fem!reader
synopsis. showering & bathing with your bllk husbands !
content warning. sfw !! suggestive but not really (?) but obviously lots of nakedness ノ pet names ノ mentions of menustral period, blood, & cramps in rin’s part ノ you scare the shit out of rin ノ itoshi brothers call you insults affectionately ノ you might have smacked sae’s butt ノgentleman reo ノ they’re all crazy rich men obsessed with you .
notes. 5.6k words (approx. 1k+ each) !
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𝜗𝜚 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄
“hmm, this should do it!” you mused, a pleased smile gracing your lips as you admired your reflection in the vanity mirror. you twirled left and right, the rose-gold satin robe flowing gracefully like liquid gold as you checked yourself from every angle.
the silk was a recent gift from sae, one he had brought back from spain, and its smooth fabric clung loosely to your body.
tonight would be like every other night when your husband was home— you were ready to indulge in your routine— taking a shower with sae. initially, you were never the clingy type, but that all changed early in your marriage;
you had accidentally walked in on him under the assumption he was still at football practice, only to be met with the sight of him under the shower, water streaming down his sculpted body. you were flashed. though startled at first, he recovered pretty quickly and nonchalantly asked you to join him as if it was the most natural thing in the world. after all, it wasn’t like it was the first time you’d seen him naked, right?
your eyes flickered to the digital display on your mirror, noting the time and cool temperature. an idea occurred to you, and you decided that maybe after the shower, you could suggest a quick dip in the pool. the weather was nice and it wasn’t too late, either.
excitedly, you rushed into the master bathroom and swung the door loudly. you caught sight of him standing beneath the showerhead in the large shower enclosure, the droplets trailing down his well-built chest, then to his toned thighs and calves, and then finally pooling at his feet. the elder itoshi’s gaze met yours and he sighed, unfazed by your entrance— this had become routine for him, too.
his eyes travelled over to the smooth robe you were wearing, immediately recognizing it as the one he had gifted you. “you look beautiful,” he said simply as he reached to turn off the water and slid open the glass door.
“thank you,” you smiled as you began to undress. the silky material slipped off your shoulders easily, bunching up at your feet on the tiled floor. he extended his hand out toward you, and you took it, stepping into the shower stall.
“careful, don’t slip,” he warned.
you rolled your eyes, giving him a light smack on his rear, which made him frown slightly– he was usually the one doing that to you, not the other way around. you slid the door closed and retorted with a cheeky grin, “please, who do you think i am?”
he flicked your forehead gently and turned the water back on. “you say that every time but somehow still manage to slip, stupid.”
as the cool water hit your skin, you looked up at sae with a pout. “baby, the water’s too cold. i’ve told you before, i’d love it if you warmed it up whenever i enter.”
“yeah, yeah, what a spoiled princess,” he muttered, shooting you a half-assed glare before adjusting the temperature to your liking. you couldn’t help but smirk. there’s something you and only you could know��� sae loved to spoil you like crazy during your showers, and that is precisely why you allowed yourself to play the role of a spoiled brat, knowing he would not mind and rather entertain it.
you wrapped your arms around his waist, looking up at him and purposely fluttering your soft lashes. he grunted, recognizing the familiar look of expectation in your serene eyes. he looked up at the shelf that held various bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. 
“which body wash do you want this time?” he asked, his hand hovering over the shelf, knowing you could be indecisive. “and no being picky.”
you tapped your finger against your lips, eyeing the different scents he had spoiled you with. “hmm, i want the coconut drift, pl–” before you could finish, he was already reaching for it, “actually, i want the raspberry dreamscape.”
he narrowed his teal eyes at you but complied anyway, grabbing your light blue loofah from the hook. he squirted the raspberry-scented body wash onto it, rubbing it until it lathered into a light pink foam. he sat down on the wide bench built into the wall, pulling you by the waist until you stood right between his legs.
you looked down at him with a gentle smile, sighing softly and resting your hands on his shoulders as he scrubbed from your neck down to your abdomen. he then turned you around to scrub your back.
“sae, i know you’re taking a peek,” you teased, glancing back at him over your shoulder.
“yeah, no shit. i’m scrubbing your pretty ass right now,” he replied casually, being particularly gentle on your cheeks.
smiling, you turned back around and reached for your cherry dew shampoo, pumping some into your hands. you lathered it up before sae stood up, holding your waist and lowering his head slightly so your fingers could reach his wet, reddish hair.
“smells like you,” he murmured as you massaged your shampoo into his scalp.
“good, you’ll think of me while you’re training.”
“i do that regardless.”
his words caught you off-guard, making you fumble slightly as you ruffled his hair. “r-right…” you stammered before quickly changing the subject. “—oh, i almost forgot, do you want to go outside? the weather’s nice.”
sae moved aside the damp strands of hair clinging to your skin and planted a light kiss on the side of your neck. “alright,”
as you followed him out of the enclosure, your wet foot accidentally slipped on the polished floor tiles. you panicked, squeezing your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the fall, but instead of hitting the solid floor, you felt a pair of strong hands catch you. sae steadied you and then handed you a towel to dry off.
“told you you’d manage to slip this time, too,” he added, slipping on his velvety, crimson robe with a smirk that only fueled your embarrassment.
“ugh…” you groaned as you wrapped yourself in your rose-gold robe. you looked up at him, then without a word, hugged him tightly. “carry me.”
he rolled his eyes, but you found yourself pressed up against his chest in less than a moment, his arms wrapped securely around you. your arms clung around his neck, and your legs linked tightly around his waist.
“why did i marry you, again?” he asked, pinching your side lightly.
you buried your face into the crook of his neck and he could feel you grin against his skin. “because you love me.”
“. . . unfortunately.”
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𝜗𝜚 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍
“i thought i told you to get up,” rin grumbled, looming over the bed where you were cuddled comfortably under the duvet. “you’re lucky i’m even taking time out of my day to help you.”
you burrowed yourself deeper into the bed, pulling the duvet over your head to avoid his gaze. “i don’t want to move!” you protested, and even that subtle movement sent a sharp pain through your abdomen, making you wince at your cramps’ unbearable pain. “and besides, that's the bare minim–”
unimpressed, rin rolled his eyes and yanked the blanket off your face, gently lifting you up into his arms. your legs dangled over his elbows as he held you close. “i’ve already prepared the bath.” he said softly.
you tried to resist, throwing weak punches at his chest with your fists, but it was no use. you gave up and fell limp against his chest. the pain was too much, too uncomfortable, and the idea of being spoiled by your husband, even for a little while, was pretty tempting. 
still, you weren’t going to surrender completely without a fight. as you buried your face into his chest, an ominous smile tugged at your lips— a smile rin which knew all too well, one that made him visibly nervous. it was the kind of smile that meant you had something up your sleeve.
“i don’t know what you’re thinking of, but seriously, forget it,” he warned, eyeing you suspiciously. you responded by giving him an innocent kiss on the cheek, causing him to pause and narrow his turquoise eyes. “dammit.”
your husband set you down on the bathroom counter and began unbuttoning your floral pajama top, pulling it over your head. you gripped the edge of the counter for support, tipping your head back slightly as he leaned in to plant a soft kiss onto your neck. 
while rin busied himself with discarding the rest of your clothes, you slyly reached out and grabbed the white, gold-rimmed bin filled up with lotions, moisturizers, essential oils, and various other bath products. pretty normal, nothing suspicious so far. you peered into it, a giggle escaping your lips as you spotted this evening’s target: a bath bomb.
but this time, its colour was red.
“stop giggling at nothing, you weirdo,” he chided, scooping you carefully into his arms. his expression softened as he noticed how tightly your fingers gripped onto him, and the way your eyes squeezed shut in discomfort. “sorry, did that hurt?”
“n-no, i’m fine,” you reassured him. rin nodded, lowering you gently into the large, pre-prepared bath. it was just the way you liked it during your painful time of the month— warm, bordering on hot, with medium-sized bubbles floating on the surface.
“i’ll bring your favourite chocolate in a bit,” he said, gently lapping the water toward you before attempting to withdraw and leave. “call my name if you need anything, i’ll be outs— shit.”
it happened too fast for him to react. before he could finish his sentence, you grabbed his arm with whatever strength you had left and pulled him into the bath with you. he fell into the water with a loud splash, soaking him completely. for a hot moment, the bathroom was filled with awkward silence and the sound of water settling around you.
rin sat there, his stretchy navy shirt and black, knee-high shorts clinging to his body, drenched and dripping. he closed his eyes, one hand covering his face like a visor as he tried to calm himself. his other hand rested on the slippery surface of the tub for support.
you bit your lip, struggling to stifle a giggle as you crawled through the water towards him, pushing his knees apart so you could sit on his lap.
“i think it’s unfair that you still have your clothes on while i’m… y’know,” you pouted.
he threw you a glare, his hands gripping your waist as he tried to push you away, but you wouldn’t budge. “i fucking knew there was something wrong with your sudden obedience,” he scoffed, throwing his head back against the rim of the tub in surrender. you took the opportunity to hook your legs under his thighs and peel the shirt over his head.
“i’ll leave your shorts on…” you paused, raising an eyebrow suggestively. “—unless?”
“no.”
“yeah– thought so.”
settling against his chest, you felt his large hands move to rub berry blossom body wash into his palms. he placed both hands on your waist, sliding them up and down your sides before his fingers began tracing lazily patterns along your back.
you softly sighed and rested your chin on his upper chest, looking as blissful as ever. rin was almost tempted to lean down and kiss you until you were gasping for air, but you beat him to it. linking your arms around his neck, you slotted your mouth against his. he reciprocated, but not before pinching your side lightly, just enough to squirm in his grasp.
unbeknownst to him, however, your arm had slithered around and rummaged quietly through the white bin until it found a soft, round object. you smiled against his mouth, then subtly dropped the red bath bomb into the water with a quiet splash.
“f-fuck…” you whimpered suddenly, breaking the kiss and clutching your stomach as your face contorted—eyes squinting—in feigned pain.
rin’s brows furrowed in confusion, and he instinctively adjusted his position to grip onto your shoulders in concern. “what’s wrong? you okay?”
you didn’t respond, instead blinking up at him with half-closed eyes once, then twice, before letting your eyelids slip shut and beginning to breathe softly.
“y/—” one could say his heart practically stopped beating at that moment, his eyes widening as he watched the water around you cloud with a sweet cherry red dye. it also definitely did not help that you decided it was a good idea to fall limp onto his chest, though you were clearly breathing normally.
was your monthly bleeding supposed to be this excessive?
“w-what the fuck!” he fretted in horror as he shook your shoulders forcefully, his hand trembling as he patted your cheek, trying to get you to meet his gaze. your eyes were bleary, yet they still had their usual shine. “is this fucking normal? are you going to bleed to death? should i call for help–??”
over the course of your marriage, you had never seen rin panic like this. in the ten-plus years of knowing him, this was the first time you’d witnessed him so completely consumed by worry for you. typically, rin kept his emotions under control, reacting subtly to any situation. but now, as the vivid colour surrounded you both, you could see the raw concern surfacing on his face.
of course, a large part of you felt guilty— wondering if maybe you’d gone a tad bit too far this time. the last thing you wanted was for him to fall ill or lose focus during his next game because of the stress you caused.
unable to hold it back any longer, you let out the laugh you’d been suppressing, and rin’s expression immediately shifted from panic to deadpan. like, literally. immediately. just that stupid giggle of yours was all it took for him to realize he had managed to fall for one of your traps yet again— this time, in the most ridiculous way possible.
he simply stood up without a word and kicked the lumpy, fizzing bath bomb away. then, with water dripping down his tight-to-skin shorts, he stepped out of the tub.
“wait, rin—” you called out from behind, your hands gripping the rim of the tub as you tried to sit up.
he glanced over his shoulder with an unreadable expression as he dried himself with a towel. you noticed the faint pink tint on his cheeks, likely from the lingering embarrassment and panic. after all, even if your bleeding had been heavy, there was no way the dye would’ve been that saturated in such a large tub.
“...i’m going to say this one more time,” he said calmly, “call me if you need anything or if you want to leave the tub so i can bathe you,” he walked slowly back to you, bending down until his face was close to yours.
“i’m sor–” you started to apologize, but he cut you off.
“and one more thing,” he added, cupping your face gently in his hands. “you scared me to death, you fool. i fucking love you. don’t do that again.”
before you could respond, he sealed his lips against yours. it was safe to say you decided then and there that you wouldn’t pull that particular prank again— at least, not without the promise that he’d shower with you as part of the deal, of course.
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𝜗𝜚 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑
friday had finally arrived– the long-awaited end to an exhausting week. to you, it usually meant you had all the time in the world to pamper yourself and indulge in self-care. heavy emphasis on usually, because unfortunately, this wasn’t always the case when you had an extremely insufferable (but annoyingly loveable) husband.
if there was one thing kaiser excelled at— besides hurling terrifyingly creative insults at people he barely knew and dominating the football field— it was his nonstop teasing.
you stepped into your spacious master bathroom with a soft towel embroidered with delicate begonia patterns tucked snugly under your arm. your shoulders felt unbearably stiff, and your back throbbed with ache. the thought of dipping your leg into the hot, bubbly bath you had prepared earlier was quite literally the only thing keeping you upright.
finally, your body made contact with the euphoric warmth as you lowered yourself into the wide, glossy marble bathtub positioned near the window. the heat of the water instantly began to soothe your sore muscles, and you let out a content sigh, leaning back against the built-in backrest.
oh, it was going to be so relaxing. would have been, if kaiser hadn’t suddenly barged into the washroom without so much as a courtesy knock— though knowing him, you doubted he even considered such things. the sudden intrusion made you flinch and pulled you out of the comfortable state you’d just begun to enjoy.
“knock before you enter, stupid,” you snapped, shooting him a glare as you sank deeper into the frothy water until only the top half of your head peeked out.
kaiser shut the door behind him and stood there practically naked. your eyes trailed down the path of pearly beads of water that teasingly trickled down his toned chest with no shame. the white cotton towel that hung loosely around his waist threatened to unravel and reveal what’s hidden beneath with the slightest blow of the wind.
“you’re really soaking in here all by yourself after i told you i wanted to join you, prinzessin?” he rolled his eyes, but with no real irritation in his voice as he sauntered toward you. his fingers deftly unhooked the towel from his waist, nonchalantly tossing it into the hamper.
you pushed yourself back up, fingers gripping the edge of the bathtub for support before wiping your face with your palms, water droplets sliding down your cheeks. raising a brow, you asked, “mihya– are you seriously planning to get in even after you’ve clearly just showered?”
you watched as he slipped into the tub, settling in front of you. his head leaned back against the cool marble edge, arms casually draped along the sides of the bathtub.
“that was just the rinse i always take after football practice,” he explained lazily, “is it really so terrible to want to bathe with my beautiful wife?”
you let out an exaggerated sigh, trying to hide the smile that was tugging at the corners of your lips from his compliment– though he tended to throw that one your way frequently.
“you’re so annoying,” you laughed, slowly crawling across the slippery surface of the tub toward him. your hands settled on his broad shoulders as you guided yourself onto his bare lap. “now i don’t even have room to stretch my legs.”
his tattooed hand, adorned with the blue crown, came to rest on your waist. though, unfortunately, you were oblivious to the subtle movement of his other hand, instead nestling your head against his chest.
it felt so serene— until it wasn’t.
seriously, what could possibly go wrong while you’re comfortably straddling your husband’s lap, eyes sewn shut, head on his chest as you try to continue your weekly post-work relaxation session?
apparently, everything.
in an instant, a jolt of freezing cold water slammed onto your back, each drop hitting you like a small brick. your eyes flew open and a loud gasp was drawn from you as you shot upright, instinctively scrambling away from him. you nearly slipped on the slick surface in the process as you tried to escape the showerhead above you. who thought it was a good idea to combine a bathtub with a shower, anyway?
“michael!” you whined, seeking warmth under the foamy blanket of sea. “that was cruel…”
he grinned, reaching over to turn off the water, which had started to drench him, too.
“sorry, meine liebe,” he cooed, moving to your side and pressing a gentle, almost apologetic kiss to your trembling shoulders. “i heard cold water’s great for sore muscles.”
“you and i both know that’s not why you did it,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes at him.
he raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer until your cheek pressed against his chest.
“hmm. well, you know, if i’m feeling generous, i might give you a life-changing massage or even treat you to your favourite food if y—”
“life-ending massage, you mean. you nearly crushed my bones last time– i literally felt my soul leaving my body.” you paused for emphasis before adding, “and i'm getting my food without any ‘ifs’.”
he chuckled and stood up with a smirk, the water sliding off his exposed body as he stepped out of the tub. he grabbed his simple towel and slung it over his shoulder before glancing back at you.
“fine, but i won’t order anything– i’ll cook.”
your heart sank. his cooking was nothing short of life-threatening.
“god, please, no!”
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𝜗𝜚 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐎
“sorry, sweetheart, let me just…” reo murmured, draping a silky, red fabric over your eyes, tying it securely behind your head. “there we go, baby. can you see anything?”
“no, reo,” you replied with a small shake of your head as your hand hovered uncertainly in the air, searching for his. 
a soft laugh escaped his lips before reaching out to thread his fingers in your hand. you could only weakly map out every subtle turn in your mind as he led you somewhere in your mansion. finally, he came to a stop, causing you to bump into his firm back.
your toes flexed and unflexed, feeling the plush carpet beneath you. the texture was familiar, and you quickly recognized that he had brought you to the grand bathroom adjacent to the balcony on the upper level of your mansion.
“ready?” he asked, the double doors creaking softly as he opened them. he turned back to you, fingers curling around your wrist, pulling you in. “i’m taking your blindfold off, sweetheart.”
as the velvety fabric slipped off and fluttered noiselessly to the carpet, your eyes widened in awe. a gasp escaped past your parted, plump lips as you took in the almost surreal sight in front of you.
“baby, you didn’t have to…”
you entered the large, steamy room and the warmth of the automatically heated floor, immediately seeped into your feet. in the corner of the washroom, the jacuzzi tub was filled to the brim with fluffy clouds of white foam, and was decorated with delicate red rose petals scattered everywhere like confetti. and to make things even more romantic, vanilla-scented candles were lit on the flat edges of the tub.
your gaze shifted to a small glass table beside the tub, where a bubble machine quietly hummed classical music and released shimmering bubbles into the air. 
“do you like it?” his voice interrupted your silent admiration, and you quickly turned around, a sheepish smile spreading across your face. you locked your arms around his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
“i… i love it,” you whispered. your eyes wafted back toward the jacuzzi and you moved toward it. “thank you, reo.”
he smiled, a gentle curve of his lips that reached his eyes as he rested a reassuring hand on your shoulder. his fingers began to work from behind, unzipping the back of your fitted dress and pulling the delicate material down. “anything for my favourite lady.”
the cool air soon kissed your bare skin; dress and undergarments neatly folded by reo and set aside in the walk-in closet adjoining the bathroom. heat rose to your cheeks as you stood there, exposed. though he had seen you naked countless times before, it had always managed to leave you flustered.
your head hung low, eyes fixed down on the marble tiles beneath you as you crossed your arms over your chest, each hand on the opposite shoulder.
he noticed your bashful demeanor and chuckled softly. his hands found their place on your waist, and he bent down slightly to press slow, sweet kisses along your collarbone. you stared down at him lovingly, hands coming up to card through his soft, amethyst hair. the feeling of his lips trailing across your skin made your breath hitch, and when planted a singular, feather-light kiss on the bottom curve of your breast, your eyes fluttered shut. he straightened up to properly look at you, a grin playing at his lips.
“what, you nervous?” he teased, ruffling your hair affectionately. “smile for me, yeah? my beautiful angel.”
you opened your eyes, looking at him shyly. “stop it… you’re embarrassing me.”
he rolled his eyes playfully, his fingers reaching up to loosen his tie when you suddenly stopped him.
“i’m going to undress you.” you stated firmly, your fingers already skillfully loosening the silky tie and sliding it over his head before beginning to work on the black buttons of his suit.
“t-that’s…” his voice faltered, and he could not suppress the rosy pink tint from spreading across his pale cheeks. the sight of your focused expression– your squinted, dreamy eyes and the way your lips tucked under your teeth as you undid his clothing left him flustered.
it made his heart swell from the overwhelming realization of how much he loved you. how had he gotten so lucky, he wondered, to be with someone as lovely and gentle as you, let alone marry you?
“there, all done!” you exclaimed with a satisfied smile as you gave his firm abs a gentle pat.
“i’m going to make you undress me every single time now, no complaints,” he chuckled, grabbing your hand and helping you into the jacuzzi. the two of you settled beside each other, sinking into the rose-petal-littered, bubbly water.
reo pulled you in closer to him until your bodies were nuzzled together, aligned inch-to-inch. he let out a deep, relaxed sigh, about to throw his head back when he noticed you scooping up a handful of foamy water mixed with a few rose petals, the water seeping from between the gaps of your fingers.
you gave him a cheeky grin as you hovered your hands above his head and released the blooms, letting them fall delicately onto his hair.
he laughed and plucked a petal from his head, pressing it near your collarbone until it stuck. “sorry, gorgeous, but these petals look much better on you,”
he leaned in and pecked your soft lips. one by one, he began to pick up individual petals, carefully sticking each one all over your body, as if adorning you with pretty rubies. his lips followed each placement, planting a tender kiss on every petal he laid on your skin. the whole time, he maintained eye contact with you, those half-lidded orchid eyes making the blood rush rapidly to your cheeks.
satisfied, he reached over and picked up a nearby moveable silver-rimmed mirror and handed it to you, showing you your petal-covered body.
“see? aren’t you just the prettiest?”
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𝜗𝜚 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈
“sei, i’m serious— if you fall asleep one more time, i’ll leave you in the tub alone,” you warned almost seriously, patting his cheek gently to rouse him. his heavy eyelids fluttered, and you could see the sleep creeping back as he began to slip beneath the water again.
the giant of a man’s broad back was pressed firmly against your chest as your fingers worked their mystique across his fatigued muscles. you kneaded at his shoulders, and fisted at his back, pressing his muscles gently. it wasn’t that he was sore– no. this had become a habit, something he looked forward to after a draining football practice or game.
your massages were the best of the best, his personal heaven, the kind that always managed to lull him to the brink of sleep. he had tried numerous massages from professional masseuses before you two got married, but none could ever compare to the sorcery of your hands.
“noo, i’ll drownnn…” his voice was a whine slurred with sleep. he blinked his bleary eyes before lazily readjusting his position. 
“then wake up! you’re heavier when you’re sleeping!” you scolded, poking at his shoulders.
“’kay…” he muttered, but you knew better. as expected, no sooner had he mumbled his agreement than his eyes clamped shut again, his head nodding forward. you grunted softly and wiggled out from under him, carefully removing his weight from your lap.
with some effort, you managed to move your husband, pulling him upright so he could be seated properly against the cool, black granite wall of the pool.
“hmph,” you huffed, shoving your hand underwater before splashing his sleepy face with a huge wave of water. he flinched awake and nearly lost his footing on the slippery pool floor, his hands shooting out to hold onto the edge to steady himself. “you asked for it, dummy.”
he groaned and rubbed his face with a grumpy expression. “y’play so unfairly, baby,” he muttered. his long arm reached out and, before you could react, grabbed your wrist, effortlessly pulling you against his chest. your hands were suddenly pressed against his sculpted abdomen. his large hands cupped your cheeks gently, tilting your head to the left, then the right, then back again as if inspecting you.
“hm, something’s different ‘bout you,” he mused, burying his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent with a satisfied hum. “ah. new shampoo…?” he leaned back slightly, comically raising his head to the crystal chandelier above, as if deep in thought. “strawberry elixir?”
your eyes widened in surprise. if there was one thing that amazed you about nagi, it was his uncanny observance despite his notorious laziness. you had bought the expensive shampoo just a few days ago and only today had you used it for the first time, when you showered before entering the bath.
it may be the sort of detail people would quickly notice but perhaps that was the special privilege he granted to the person he loved. for you, he gave you the rare gift of his focused attention.
you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head in amusement. leaning in, you pressed a long kiss to his lips, which he lazily reciprocated. “that’s not going to make me forgive you, you know,” you murmured against his mouth, though your smile betrayed the truth.
he groaned, shifting his gaze to the scented oil bottles lined along the rim of the hot tub. without much thought, he blinked slowly and shrugged, reaching for the bottle labeled lavender dream. carelessly, he poured the entire contents into the water, the strong fragrance immediately filling the bathroom.
“nagi!” you cried, eyes wide in horror. “you don’t just add oil directly to water! they won’t mix!”
he paused, staring at the tiny droplets of oil floating on the surface before glancing down at the guilty-looking empty bottle in his hands. “oh. you’re right.”
“don’t just–!”
“uh… i have an idea,” he muttered, calmly ruffling your hair. you watched as he pushed himself up and out of the hot tub (you’re amazed he took the initiative to do something himself) and walked to the controller wall, completely unbothered by the fact he was butt-naked.
at the click of one rectangular button, the jets at the bottom of the tub immediately activated and powerful streams of water began to come from underneath, kneading at your muscles.
a delightful sigh left your lips as nagi slid back beside you, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder.
“see, baby?” he murmured, trailing his fingers over the water, feeling the water ripple over his skin. “the oil’ll disappear sooner or later, m’kay?”
you nodded your head, slightly but not fully convinced. you turned around to hug him, closing your eyes. “sure… but i’ll just use one of the guest bathrooms if it doesn’t.”
“we’ll.” 
he added too quickly for a man like him. he needed your massages after all– not the jets which, while comforting, did not come close enough to the way your hands worked.
you rolled your eyes playfully and smiled, “yes, yes, together.”
just then, the large television mounted on the porcelain-tiled wall turned on, drawing your attention. you turned your head to find nagi waving the remote with a subtle grin.
“wanna watch a movie and cuddle?”
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𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗔𝗕𝗟𝗘 𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡
𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀 and baths go so well together because they are so silly. you can always find him at the shower control panel, playing with the settings until the outline of the tub glowed in ethereal colours of topaz and quartz and emerald.
also, the bath would inevitably become a sea of yellow rubber duckies because he thinks they're cute and they match his hair! he does leave the cleanup to you, though :(
besides, this man would be so indecisive when it comes to water temperature. one minute it’s icy cold, the next it’s scorching hot, only to swing to cold again because, well, he felt like it! the two of you would end up dancing in the water like goofs, splashing and kicking at each other because no one is watching you in your private yard– but you’re sure he’d do it in front of many eyes anyway.
one of his favourite games is to try and carry you on his back as he swims around the tub. despite your repeated warnings that he’d sink under the combined weight, he’d insist on trying, each attempt failing worse than the previous.
but the best part? even though you’re both naked, baths and showers with him were about anything but sexual. he sees you naked– okay? lovely! let’s see who could hold their breath the longest underwater.
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© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !
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sei-rq · 21 days ago
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best friend's brother, itoshi sae, is so unbearably hot and he's so effortlessly alluring, the first time you met him was when itosh rin had finally deemed you trustworthy enough to bring you over to his place,
you had expected his parents to be there of course, but rin never said he had a brother, never even mentioned sae, and you wanted to bang his head against a wall because not only did he never mention the mysterious older sibling of his, but also how he never warned you about those delicious thighs, moreover those impeccable biceps.
itoshi sae was a walking wet dream come true, he had opened the door for you, in a grey shirt that hugged his fit figure and some shorts that ended just at the right length to show off his thighs, you could say that you had the patience of a saint, because dear god, his hair was down that was yelling cozy, relaxed, the small sliver chain around his neck almost taunting you to get closer, for a bite of whatever was to be served.
dinner at the itoshi household was quiet, other than rin's mother gushing about the fact that her youngest had finally brought a friend over, not that sae had brought someone over before, so rin did beat sae at something.
rin had introduced you to his parents, the roulette went in the order of: mother, father and.. did you really think he'd introduce you to asmodeus' incarnate himself? that was until sae himself cleared his throat after finishing off his food, lending you his hand to shake as he let the words flow through naturally.
"i'm sae, it's nice to meet you, how did you meet rin?"
that was the first time he had spoken directly referring to you, ever since you came over.
after greetings, introductions, dinner and dishes were done, you had been dragged to rin's room to spend the rest of the time watching horror films, a marathon for whatever films rin wanted you to watch with him, eventually you felt a weight on your shoulder, with rin and his closed eyes, followed by light snores, smiling to yourself, you removed him from yourself, resting his head on the pillows on his bed, gently.
normally, this exact moment would turn innocent friendship into something more, as you counted the lashes on rin's eyes, but— that was before, itoshi sae was in the picture.
you fixed yourself up, preparing to leave, it would be bad to overstay your invite, however, someone had other plans.
as you left rin's room gently shutting the door, you're greeted with a siren, freshly showered, messy wet hair, towel around neck— fuck.
sae's first thought is, stay.
so that's what he says without much thought.
" 's late, stay the night."
and what more are you to do rather than listening to the beauty in front of you? so you do, not in rin's room, not in the guest room because apparently it isn't cleaned and prepared to host a visitor, but in sae's room.
with sheets that smell of his cologne, with clothes that smell of his soap, with a pillow that smells of his shampoo— it's too much.
sae lays opposite to you, letting you ball yourself into the wall, as he watches replays of a previous match of his, with an arm tucked under his head for support, the lighting in the room is dim, the room is cold from the air conditioner and sae— he is there, next to you, not at all bothered with a stranger lying next to him.
it's either that he's crazy, or he just doesn't find you attractive.
that thought is soon thrown out the window when he turns to look at you, his phone put down on the bedside table.
it's intimate, as he stares into your eyes.
you in his clothes, in his bed, in his mind.
"you're odd."
is what he says.
"says the one letting a stranger into their bed." you retort back.
"says the one getting into the bed of a stranger without any thought." well.
his hand finds itself in your hair, brushing it out of your face.
"you're stupid, you know? who gets in bed with a man they barely know, do you know how dangerous this is?
but his heart skips a beat, as you smile, placing your hand over his.
"maybe i like taking risks, maybe because the 'dangerous' outcome is something i wouldn't mind."
...
"stupid."
he says it so softly, as he scoffs.
and he looks at you, you look back at him, maybe sae isn't asmodeus but he surely is a bad addiction, because the one deadly touch of lips is the start of it all.
he's gentle, almost acting like you're glass, but there is firmness to the kiss, soon it turns messy, with his tongue swallowing yours, him swallowing your soul.
it's so much, too much.
but he doesn't let you pull away, he pushes you back onto the wall while you're both laid down on his bed, pushing himself into you, his leg between your thighs, that doesn't press up.
he finally lets you pull away, as his head drops to your shoulder.
as you pant for air.
"let me take you to dinner."
huh?
he mumbles against your skin.
"you want to take me to dinner?"
"yes cariño, you can hear, that's amazing, that's exactly what I said."
full of himself, as he should be.
you scoff but don't push him away.
"well, here i thought i was about to be railed out of my mind."
it's half hearted really.
"you will be, but i don't do flings, if i'm going to ruin you, then i'm taking you to dinner first, unless you were hoping for a hit and run, then sorry that's not me."
...
that's how you end up with itoshi sae, because the next time you're in his bed, it's not going to just be desperate kisses, it's going to be a lot messier.
pt.2
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zph · 10 months ago
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— He Can’t Sleep Without You. | roommate!scara x gn!reader.
in which you both are roommates (gasp). and he cannot seem to have a good night's rest without your warmth.
notes: clingy scara!!, profanity, mutual pining, one mention of innuendo but still sfw, scara is sort of like a cat that waits outside of the bathroom door, not proofread
roommate!scara small hcs: here | masterlist
For someone so adamant about getting all his 8 hours of sleep, he sure as hell was too willing to lose it so easily.
With one hand, begrudgingly wiping away the drowsiness from his eyes, he clenches the blanket closer in the other, shivering as the breeze hits his puffed cheeks and loose top that he carelessly slipped into the night before.
Scaramouche felt the heaviness weighing on his movement; his hair was no doubt disheveled, and his dark circles were already starting to pull underneath his bottom eyelids. Miserably, he tried to run his fingers through the strands, only to struggle when he was met with a particular knot...
In other words, he felt like complete shit.
Just where are you right now?
Squinting at the faint light peering through the corridor, he hears nothing but the hum of the air conditioner and the shuffling of footsteps behind the bathroom door.
Tossing his legs over the edge of the mattress, he briefly weighed his options:
Either pass out on the cold, hard ground
Watch the lost hours take a toll on his plummeting mood as he waits for you.
Neither of which seemed possible nor pleasant to him.
God, are those his only alternatives? He drags a hand down his face, slipping on some fuzzy cat sandals (a gift, courtesy of you, after convincing him that it was well worth the price, only to see him lap around rocking cute merch, much to your amusement).
And his mind reels back at the thought of you.
A normal and sane person wouldn’t limp his way out of the bedroom; a normal and sane person wouldn’t take the time dragging his dwindling patience and weary feet towards a conveniently placed bathroom door; a normal and sane person would instead, hog the blankets and fall back to sleep...
Despite this, Scaramouche finds himself at the mercy of the blazing light at the aforementioned conveniently placed bathroom door.
He scoffs. ‘A normal and sane person.’
With his blanket draped across the wooden tiled floor, his hand dug out from under the duvet, landing swift knocks on the wood.
1 knock.
Then 2.
Then, finally, 3.
Scaramouche clenches the makeshift coat closer, shivering as he shoots glares at the door.
“Are you done?” Scaramouche grumbles before plummeting his head onto the door itself; a sense of exasperation flowing through him, and by god, he hopes you could sense his desperation too. “Come back to bed, it is too cold.” His sense of shame would come back in the morning once he was more lucid. But right now, he just wanted to sleep.
And unfortunately, he also wanted you.
It started as a simple movie night: hiding within the cozy sheet of a small blanket, huddling closer for warmth, pressing up so close against each other. Even with the screen blaring on his face, clear exhaustion from a movie marathon, he still found comfort in the way your fingers gently roamed, and traced down his back, then up to brush the hair that had stuck out from his neck. While his head rested comfortably on your shoulder, he hummed slightly to the background static.
This was becoming a regular occurrence:
You suggest a movie after watching him fumble around with his work, eyes nearly drooping after painstakingly looking at a computer all day, with coffee prepared in those branded ‘Best Employee of the Year’ mugs his company loves parade around. With one quick glance at his sad form, you were already coaxing him onto the couch for ‘just a few minutes’ until suddenly, he was cozied in pajamas and the blanket wrapped around him like some sort of makeshift hostage situation.
More and more, until he finds himself cuddled close to your form, his arms wrapped under the fabric of your waist, and your leg lifted onto his hip.
More and more, until he is the one to instead force you out of your chair and into watching a horror movie with him, sliding snacks he knows you’ll indulge in when he doesn’t see.
More and more, until he feels you wrap the blanket around him the next day, gently whispering a quick ‘good morning’ before quickly making a beeline to the bathroom in order to prepare for work.
But in your absence, his hand reaches out after you, eyes flat on the door: a fleeting acknowledgment and the longing to get you back into his arms.
It was maddening.
..So, this was no different.
Another excuse to press close against each other; the cold chill from that busted heater leaves you to fend for yourself with the only pair of heated blankets until the next morning, bringing you to offer another movie.
This time, childhood classics.
“You know, we should sleep together,” you suddenly say, the rumbling from your chest awakening him.
He pauses, his head lifting from his spot. “Excuse me?”
“Like bed-sharing. Cuddling. Horizontally lying on a mattress. Together. Ever heard of the concept?” you chuckled. “What were you thinking about?”
He makes a face. “Absolutely nothing.” And he turns on his side, his back to your chest, away from your stifling laughter. “…Why are you even asking in the first place?” comes out after a moment.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the way you stretched your arms out to release some of the tension from your body, then leaned your head on his shoulder. “We’ve been doing this for a while, yeah? I don’t know, heater is still kinda busted and I kinda don’t want to be alone right now.”
There was an extended pause in his reply.
Truthfully, there were little reasons to hate the arrangement and even fewer reasons to refuse it. In fact, with the way your chin comfortably sits on his skin, his mind was reeling with warmth despite the bitter cold biting his skin.
“No worries, the deal is still on the table, so don’t feel pressured,” you smile up at him, taking his silence as a refusal. “I can go out to get-“
Then he cuts you off, huffing with amusement. “Sure, do what you want.”
And he leaves it at that, already scooting closer to your chest and comfortably making room in your arms.
But soon, he feels you gently intertwine your hands together, pulling the back of his to your lips. With your eyes glinting with fondness, you breathe in. “Thanks," and before he can react, you are already pressing your face into the curve of his neck, contentment rolling off you in waves.
…You were maddening.
For a moment, there was no other sound except the hum of the air conditioner and the shuffling of footsteps behind the bathroom door. Scaramouche sighs.
From being habitually conditioned into only sleeping by your side, he finds that the aftermath led up to whatever state he is in right now.
3:12 am. He checks once more. You were taking long. He embraces the cool chill, the blanket already half-shrouding his body at this point, spilling to the bottom like some coat.
He probably looks ridiculous standing in front of the bathroom, tapping his foot, impatiently waiting for your return.
Like a cat, he could hear you say.
And as if you heard his increasingly humbling pleas, before long, the door peers open, shedding light on his poor eyes and through his rather tense squinting. Barely stepping foot into the room, you jump at the sight of your roommate, who, he would have guessed from your dumbfounded gasp and prolonged stare, you weren’t expecting to be up at this hour.
“…How long were you standing there?”
He only regarded you with the tilt of his head, his eyes narrowed at your form. “Long enough,' he murmured.
With your eyes doused with concern, he watched as you took one step towards him, reaching out to tug his hand back into your room. “Sorry, had to use the bathroom.” That was until you seemed to catch the odd blush on his face, dim light exposing his visage. He could almost sense your glee the moment you decided you weren’t going to pity his poor self. “Did you miss me by chance?”
Firmly, he quickly tugs you closer, landing his head on your shoulder and pointedly ignoring your comment. “Just shit faster, I need to sleep.”
Scaramouche didn’t comment on how you sucked in a harsh breath, lips parting as he hugged you tighter. Buried into your neck, he fought the smile that crept up on his face and the raging heat coaling in his cheeks. He heard a soft laugh echo into the air before a lightweight softly hit his head, humming a gentle: “Missed you too.”
He wasn’t sure if it was pounding in his ears or the thumping of your heartbeat, but as your warmth wrapped around his cool body, his composure ever so slightly weakened and lulled into a quiet hum. Gathering all his aches in a single embrace, he can’t help but desperately tug onto your shirt, demanding a resemblance of dignity, only for it to fail terribly as he leaned in closer, his body already weak from the kisses you pressed against his temples.
And that was enough for him.
(That was enough for his mind to come to a rest.)
So yes, you were revolting in every sense of the word. And yet if he were to choose, Scaramouche would willingly suck up his pride than ever pull away from your warm embrace.
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sebsxphia · 1 year ago
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shopping lists.
robert ‘bob’ floyd x reader.
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→ summary: you rush to the shops after work to do a quick food shop, but bob floyd was not on your shopping list.
→ word count: 3.3K.
→ warnings: mentions of food, supermarkets, feeling hungry and fluff, fluff, fluff.
→ authors notes: my description of the supermarket is based off uk supermarkets, so i apologise if there’s inaccuracies to us supermarkets! this also hasn’t been proof read. my main masterlist can be found here! 💌
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Bob was starving.
He cursed himself under his breath as he drove back from base. He had the driver's window in his baby blue truck rolled down and his forearm resting on the side, his fingers pushing through the sticky summer air as he drove. Air conditioning alone wouldn’t keep him cool, as he still wore his flight suit from training earlier that day. He could feel how the ring of sweat around his neck was sticking to his collar, but he simply didn’t have the time or willpower to shower and change on base.
It had just gone five o’clock in the afternoon and he had gotten off later than he expected. He would’ve already had a small meal to keep him going until dinner by now, but low and behold, when he awoke this morning, as the sun was only a crack along the horizon, he realized he had no substantial food in his fridge.
Bob was a planner. He would do his fortnightly shop routinely, but something came up at work and it had simply slipped his mind. The only thing he could do now was drive as fast as he could to the supermarket, slip in, whisk around the aisles in record time and drive back home to cook something up in under an hour. He had another early start the next morning and as always, he had a routinely early bedtime.
Being a pilot made his reactions lightening fast. This would be easy for him.
As he pulled into the car park and zoned in on a space, he noticed another car also going for the same spot.
You were inches away from the space and although he was in a hunger-fueled rush, being the ever polite gentleman that he was, he let you go for it. Through the glare of the late afternoon sun reflecting off your windshield, he couldn’t quite make out the person driving, but he saw how you politely lifted your hand off the steering wheel to motion, “Thanks!”
Bob responded in turn with his wave and warm smile. He drove a little further forward past your car to find another space and the reflecting sun moved against your windshield to reveal you in a clearer light. You had the sweetest little smile as you thanked Bob. Your lips curled up to meet the creases in the corners of your eyes and your cheeks were a sweet rosy colour.
As he drove away and around the corner of the car park, Bob chewed at the inside of his cheek, still with a small smile twitching on his lips. He had a small hope that he would see you inside, only because he wanted to let you know that he was more than happy to give you the spot.
No other reason.
He was pulled out of his thoughts about your sweet smile as he felt his stomach grumble furiously. After doing a loop around, he managed to find a spot at the opposite end of the car park. He of course cursed himself again under his breath for going shopping at peak hours after everyone had finished work on a weekday, but he only blamed himself. He didn’t blame you. You were simply there first.
The almost freezing blast of air conditioner on his face as he entered the supermarket, was a welcomed change to the ever-growing humid air outside. The tiny, blonde baby hairs on the back of his sweat-coated neck stood up momentarily, as the icy air flowed down and through his flight suit. He felt himself cool down almost instantly. He pulled up with a shopping cart and started with fruits and vegetables at the front of the store. He was desperate to move fast, but his boots were heavy and searingly hot with every step he took around the aisles. That was the only spot on his body that the air conditioning could not reach.
As he came to the end of the fruits and vegetables section, he turned to reach for the tomatoes when suddenly a flurry swooped by him. It caught his attention instantly and he whipped his head around, with his torso moving inwards towards the tomatoes to avoid bumping into whoever had just swept by him.
It was you. The same person in the car park who he had given his space to. He observed as you descended the cheese and yoghurt aisle.
A small lump got caught in his throat and he swallowed thickly, as he watched how your sundress swished around your bare calves. He couldn’t help but let his cobalt blue eyes from behind his glasses, glance over you. Bob was raised right by his mom. He was respectful and well-mannered, but the simple and undeniable fact was, that you were the prettiest person he had ever laid eyes on. Even from the glow of the cool light down the food aisle, it could not diminish your luminescence.
He reached his slender index finger up to his glasses and pushed them up his nose ever so slightly. The prior sudden movement had caused them to jolt down the bridge of his nose by a centimetre.
As you walked straight down the aisle and turned to face the cheese selection, the delicate material of your sundress moved back into place to frame your body. It rippled over each curve of your figure and Bob’s heartbeat doubled in time when he caught sight of your soft belly in your sundress. He sucked in a harsh breath between his teeth as he wondered for a fleeting second, how soft your belly would feel to hold when his face was buried between your thighs.
He registered the smile creases in the corners of your eyes. The same ones that he noticed first in the parking lot and how they narrowed to read the label in front of you. Your eyelashes fluttered against one another as you blinked against the glaring light humming above you. As you raked over your options, he watched how your teeth grazed over your bottom lip and chewed nimbly at it. The same habit he had.
He needed some cheese and yoghurt himself, so perhaps he could catch you there.
Bob meandered some meters behind you and acted as if he was choosing his yoghurt option. He already knew what he needed. The same yoghurt he’d had for the past five years, but he was drawn to you. Like a moth to the radiating flame.
He cocked his head behind him to glance in your direction and you had already moved down the aisle to assess your next grocery choice. He took his multipack of yoghurts, placed it in his cart and wheeled it around to stand by you, again acting as if he was evaluating his cheese choice. From behind his glasses, he took another sideways glance. You were performing a balancing act of holding your shopping basket’s flimsy handles, holding the cheese in your other hand and somehow holding open a small notebook and crossing out the presumed item, with a pen.
At a glance, Bob saw how inside your notebook was filled with lots of little scribbles, and crossed-out parts and as you went to close it, the front cover was decorated with sweet little stickers.
“Jesus Christ. That is the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.” He thought to himself.
As you went to slide the pen back into the elasticated band, it slipped from your balancing act and slid along the dotted tiles of the supermarket, straight for Bob’s direction. It hit the sole of his boots and he heard your voice for the first time.
“Ah, shit.” It was muttered under your breath with annoyance, but he thought your voice sounded like sweet honey.
Before his thought process could catch up to him, he wondered if you tasted like sweet honey.
You spoke directly to Bob this time, as you scurried over and bent down to pick up the pen by his boots. He caught a fleeting glance at the swell of your breasts, resting in your sundress.
You laughed out faintly with your apology. “I’m sorry, my mistake—”
As you moved too quickly with embarrassment to pick up your pen, your flimsy shopping basket was swinging and the cheese you were holding also fell out of your grasp.
“Ah! Fuck.” You quietly cursed again to yourself, or so you thought.
Bob had caught your second string of curses to you accidentally dropping something and he thought it was rather cute.
“Here, let me.” He chuckled to himself as he squatted down to reach for your cheese and pen.
Both now standing upright, he handed your belongings back to you and felt how the palms of your hands were as soft as butter against his fingertips. You looked at each other directly and now without the glare of your windshield, he could finally see every delicate feature that made up your beautiful face. He thought that you were so pretty.
You went to open your mouth and speak, but your words got caught on your tongue. This kind stranger was incredibly handsome. He looked smart with his clean-shaven face and his dusty blonde hair parted neatly to one side, with a thick swoop. His rounded glasses didn’t have a single smudge on them and his cheeks were round as he smiled at you, although it still didn't take away from his strong cheekbones and firm jaw.
You blinked in a flurry as you took in his build. You were accustomed to seeing pilots around here with the air base being so close to town, but it was rare to see one in what you presumed was a flight suit of some kind. It was deep forest green in colour and harmoniously blended against his striking eyes from behind his glasses. It wasn’t tightly fitted, yet still, his broad shoulders and firm biceps were flexing against the coarse material. His thighs stood strong with his heavy boots planted firmly against the tiled floor. He was tall and practically towered over you, but he respectfully kept a distance between you both.
“I’m sorry again, thank you.” You smiled bashfully at him. Your eyelashes were still fluttering against one another and your rounded cheeks were dusted pink.
Bob couldn’t help himself. He grinned as he shook his head and politely rejected your apology.
“No need to apologise, Ma’am. It’s all good.”
Suddenly your eyes widened and your eyebrows raised with them.
The glimmer from the overhead light in the supermarket made your eyes sparkle with such an inviting glow.
“Oh! You were the nice guy in the parking lot! You let me take your space!” You pointed your finger towards him. His truck was significantly higher than your car and you were only able to get a glance at his face from behind your windshield.
Bob let out a chuckle and waved his large hand in front of him, diminishing the idea. He further wanted to wave off the ever-growing flush of heat that was creeping up from his chest. It flushed over his neck and cheeks and sat right under his glasses. The blasting air conditioning had once again failed him and his chest, neck and cheeks were now flushed warm.
“Oh, hey. Not at all, it wasn’t my space. You had it, fair and square.”
You giggled in response. His respectful and polite demeanour had your stomach feeling as though a million and one butterflies were fluttering through you, making their way up through your heart and coming out of your mouth with sweet giggles.
“Alright, thanks again though, I appreciate it. I was in such a rush after work. Always the way, isn’t it?”
You laughed again and the sound flowed to Bob’s ears, making his playful smile reach the tips of his ears.
“Tell me about it.” He agreed with a grin.
You flashed a last beaming smile at Bob as the conversation between two strangers in a supermarket came to its natural end and you turned around to continue following your shopping list.
That’s what he thought.
As you turned down the aisle, you once again cursed at yourself for not being more forward, flirtatious, or whatever it would be that would land you his number. He was gorgeous. Undeniably handsome. And he was so stupidly charming and polite.
You turned on a quick heel to see if he was still there, but he had disappeared and you were left alone in the chilled aisle, with nothing to comfort you but your notebook and the static overhead lights.
Bob too mentally scolded himself for not asking such a pretty sweetheart like yourself for your number. As he watched you turn away, he chewed on his bottom lip, curled his fists tightly, released them and then walked away.
He was a gentleman. He would not harass someone if they didn’t show a sign of being interested in him. But he was sure you were. He had a sharp and watchful eye, and he saw how rosy your cheeks turned and how your chest stuttered slightly as your breath got caught in your throat. But he was pulled out of his battling thoughts but his stomach grumbly furiously at him again.
He whisked down the remaining aisles to finish his shop, still with the hope of a fleeting chance to see you again, but he couldn’t ignore what his body was telling him. As he checked out, tapped his card on the machine and wheeled his shopping cart out of the store, he still had both his trained eyes on his surroundings. Just in case there was a single chance, a perfect moment, where he could catch you. Bob had been extremely methodical about his choices in life and he only ever perused something if he was certain. He had never been so utterly and completely sure that you were the one for him.
He fished his truck keys out of his flight suit pocket and just as he was about to turn the key in the door, he remembered.
“Fuck. Tomatoes.”
Bob didn’t need a list. It was all written down mentally and he rarely forgot things, but he remembered that as he was about to reach for the tomatoes, you came by earlier in a flurry. He would’ve called it fate if he ever had a chance of seeing you again.
“Fuck! Tomatoes.”
You groaned and threw your head back in annoyance. It was on your list, sitting on the next line down under cheese and then you remembered why you forgot it in such a fluster. You slammed the boot door of your car back down, locked it shut and headed back inside to grab the final item. Your feet moved quickly along the tile floor and you turned on your heel to find the stack of plump, rosy red tomatoes in front of you.
“Hello again.”
The familiar voice made the tiny baby hairs on your neck stand up and a row of goosebumps rise on your forearms in tow. His smile radiated warmth as it crinkled up in the corners of his eyes. He stood tall over you, still in his flight suit, but again you didn’t feel intimidated in the slightest. You felt a true sense of calm and safety wash over you.
Your lips parted to gasp with happy surprise at seeing him again, before they curled up into a relieved smile, mirroring his own.
“Hello again.” You repeated back to him. “I forgot tom—”
“I forgot some tom—”
You both spoke in unison, before snorting out a quiet laugh between yourselves.
“Apologies. You go.” Bob gestured towards you and the vegetable stand.
“I’m going to make a sauce when I get back home, but I completely forgot the main ingredient.” You waved it off with another giggle, yet still, you did not attempt to reach for said important ingredient. You simply stayed facing him with a gleaming smile.
Bob’s mouth watered at the sound of your homemade tomato sauce. His stomach still growled at him from inside, but he also felt how it twisted and turned on itself with exhilaration. He pictured coming home to you after work, sitting down together at your dining table and sharing the homemade sauce. You were, without a fault, the only person he had ever truly envisioned a future with and he couldn’t repeat the same mistake as before.
He nimbly chewed at his bottom lip, failing to notice how you were also doing the same, as he mentally prepared his next statement.
“That sounds, delicious. I hope I’m not oversteppin’ here, and please tell me if I am, but I’d love to have y’ number, Ma’am. I’d love to try some of y’ homemade sauce, if that’s okay with you?”
Bob was not an overly religious man, but he swallowed thickly and prayed with every hope that the last part of his sentence didn’t come across in the wrong way. It felt longer than mere seconds to receive your response, but he breathed out a short sigh of relief when he saw how your eyes crinkled up into an animated smile to match his.
“Yes, yes! I’d love that. Please, let me get my book…” Your fingers were trembling with giddy anticipation as you worked to open your bag and reached for your notebook. “Uh…” You flipped through to find a clean page and when you landed on one, you gestured it towards him. “Here you go.” You gushed.
“Thank you.” He began. “I’m Bob, by the way. Bob Floyd.”
You mentioned your name and he felt his heart flutter at how pretty it was. By how eagerly you had accepted his proposal to exchange numbers, he could see that you were just as into him, as he was with you. And so, he let his true feelings become known.
“That’s a real pretty name, sweetheart.”
You sucked in a harsh breath between your teeth and let out a bashful, “Oh…”
The sweet name that he had just called you, made your legs nearly twitch and tremble on the supermarket floor.
His long, slender fingers curled around the pen as he scribbled down his number. Your notebook and pen looked so small in his hands.
When he offered it back to you, you wrote down your number in a flurry and tore the piece of paper out from the binder. You handed it over and he tucked it into the top pocket of his flight suit. You thought that that was the hottest thing you have ever witnessed a man doing.
Bob Floyd, as you now knew him, had seriously gotten into your head and clouded any reasonable senses.
You both exchanged some further light conversation, still with Bob shamelessly and sweetly flirting with you, before you both picked up your tomatoes, paid and left for the car park together. He insisted on walking you to the car to ensure that you got there safely, even though it was still broad daylight and when he left, he placed a soft kiss on your cheek.
You both went back to your separate homes and cooked your separate meals. As you were about to get into bed you sent Bob a text, the taste of your homemade sauce still dancing on your taste buds.
“this weekend, would you like me to show you how i make the sauce? would you like to come to mine? x”
You were caught by surprise when your phone dinged with a message notification moments after.
“I would love that, thank you for the invite, sweetheart. Can’t wait :-) x”
Bob lay in bed that night thinking about how to tell the story of how you both met at your wedding.
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taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @luckyladycreator2 @unmistakablyunknown @flames-thebitch @birdy-bat-writes @thedroneranger @randomfandomgirl97 @kmc1989 @swiftsgirlfriend
tagging those who may be interested: @sunblchdfly @floydsglasses @fridamoss @floydsmuse @bobfloydsbabe @laracrofted @hangmanapologist @rhettabbotts @lewmagoo @peachystenbrough @auroralightsthesky @cherrycola27 @withahappyrefrain @sugarcoated-lame @senawashere
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novlr · 5 months ago
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Any tips on how to describe indoor spaces so they feel real and match the vibe of the story without throwing in too much detail?
Getting interior scenes just right is all about finding the balance between setting the mood, showing the unique personality of your story world, and keeping the plot moving. There are lots of ways you can use senses, action, and background to set a scene, all of which can work seamlessly with the type of story you want to tell. Here are some tips on how you can achieve that:
How does it look?
Lighting: does your space contain the soft glow of lamps, harsh fluorescent lights, or natural light?
Use colour and textures like peeling paint, plush velvet, or sleek marble.
Size and scale: is it claustrophobically small or impressively grand?
Architectural features: does the space have high ceilings, crown mouldings, or exposed beams?
Furnishings: are they modern, sparse, antique, or cluttered?
Style and decor: what style is represented, and how does it affect the atmosphere?
State of repair: is the space well-kept, neglected, or under renovation?
Perspective and layout: how do spaces flow into each other?
Unique design features: describe sculptural elements, or things that stand out.
Spatial relationships: describe how objects are arranged—what’s next to, across from, or underneath something else?
How does it sound?
Describe echoes in large spaces or the muffled quality of sound in carpeted or furnished rooms.
Note background noises; is there a persistent hum of an air conditioner, or the tick of a clock?
Describe the sound of footsteps; do they click, scuff, or are they inaudible?
Include voices; are they loud and echoing or soft and absorbed?
Is there music? Is it piped in, coming from a live source, or perhaps drifting in from outside?
Capture the sounds of activity; typing, machinery, kitchen noises, etc.
Describe natural sounds; birds outside the window, or the rustle of trees.
Consider sound dynamics; is the space acoustically lively or deadened?
Include unexpected noises that might be unique to the building.
Consider silence as a sound quality. What does the absence of noise convey?
How does it smell?
Identify cleaning products or air fresheners. Do they create a sterile or inviting smell?
Describe cooking smells if near a kitchen; can you identify specific foods?
Mention natural scents; does the room smell of wood, plants, or stone?
Are there musty or stale smells in less ventilated spaces?
Note the smell of new materials; fresh paint, new carpet, or upholstery.
Point out if there’s an absence of smell, which can be as notable as a powerful scent.
Consider personal scents; perfume, sweat, or the hint of someone’s presence.
Include scents from outside that find their way in; ocean air, city smells, etc.
Use metaphors and similes to relate unfamiliar smells to common experiences.
Describe intensity and layering of scents; is there a primary scent supported by subtler ones?
What can you do there?
Describe people’s actions; are they relaxing, working, hurried, or leisurely?
Does the space have a traditional use? What do people come there to do?
Note mechanical activity; elevators moving, printers printing, etc.
Include interactions; are people talking, arguing, or collaborating?
Mention solitary activities; someone reading, writing, or involved in a hobby.
Capture movements; are there servers bustling about, or a janitor sweeping?
Observe routines and rituals; opening blinds in the morning, locking doors at night.
Include energetic activities; perhaps children playing or a bustling trade floor.
Note restful moments; spaces where people come to unwind or reflect.
Describe cultural or community activities that might be unique to the space.
How is it decorated?
Describe the overall style; is it minimalist, baroque, industrial, or something else?
Note period influences; does the decor reflect a specific era or design movement?
Include colour schemes and how they play with or against each other.
Mention patterns; on wallpaper, upholstery, or tiles.
Describe textural contrasts; rough against smooth, shiny against matte.
Observe symmetry or asymmetry in design.
Note the presence of signature pieces; a chandelier, an antique desk, or a modern art installation.
Mention thematic elements; nautical, floral, astronomical, etc.
Describe homemade or bespoke items that add character.
Include repetitive elements; motifs that appear throughout the space.
What is its history?
Mention historical usage; was the building repurposed, and does it keep its original function?
Describe architectural time periods; identify features that pinpoint the era of construction.
Note changes over time; upgrades, downgrades, or restorations.
Include historical events that took place within or affected the building.
Mention local or regional history that influenced the building’s design or function.
Describe preservation efforts; are there plaques, restored areas, or visible signs of aging?
Describing indoor spaces doesn’t have to feel like a chore. Focus on the details that matter most, tie them to the mood or characters, and let your readers fill in the blanks. A well-crafted space not only sets the scene but builds your character's relationship to it. Use sensory language, background, and action beats to tie it into your narrative, and don’t be afraid to play around with motifs and contradictions, depending on who is experiencing it!
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daylighted · 5 months ago
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WEDDING BELLS & 5-STAR HOTELS ─ dean winchester!
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. . . or, the first time in a long time dean's stayed in a hotel room without mysterious stains in the carpet or on the sheets.
no warnings <3 just fluff! and newlywed cutesie shit!
dean was so fucking glad you talked him out of a vegas wedding.
the thought of being married by a guy masquerading as elvis presley still sounded funny as shit to him, but he did agree with the sentiment that you deserved this. the grand wedding arch, strung with flowers, the huge cake, every eye of every single one of your loved ones there for you.
you deserved to be spoiled. dean didn't need to be told it to know it, but it was hard for him, sometimes, to remind himself that he could slow down. appreciate things. you'd helped him a lot in that regard, but it was hard to untrain a soldier into being a man again.
"this bed is nice!" you call to him from the bedroom part of your suite, and he actually laughs a little at the sound of it, hearing the little bounce of the mattress springs punctuating your words.
he undoes the tie from around his neck, draping it across the back of the couch, before he circles around it to find you, exactly how he thought you'd be: jumping on the bed like a damn kid.
you looked downright beautiful, even now. especially now. hair released from it's earlier style, flowing dress replaced with a shorter, more manageable one for the after party, your heels strung across the room. you'd even put the veil back on, the end of it catching in the wind as you jumped.
dean leans in the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, mouth tilted up in amusement. "are we having fun?"
"i'm having fun," you correct, the jumps stilling, your stance a little wobbly trying to balance on the springs, "you're watching me."
dean opens his mouth to say he's always watching you, but he didn't want to come off like a weirdo or anything. you knew you were marrying a weirdo, but, like, there were limits to how much weird a person could take in their partner.
your limit, apparently, was a supernatural hunter with dead parents and a talent at killing things. maybe, actually... you wouldn't have minded to hear about how often he just watched you.
watched you jump on every hotel or motel bed you'd both gotten. watched how your eyelashes fluttered in your sleep. watched as your eyebrows pinched together when you were cleaning the blood off of his face, or, for some godforsaken reason, doing his eyebrows. he was a much gentler, more lenient man since falling in love with the likes of you.
"stop staring at me like that," you laugh, having the audacity to sound sheepish, as if you weren't literally the prettiest person on the damn planet.
dean pushes off of the doorframe to cross the distance between the both of you. once he was close enough, your hands came up to rest on his cheeks, smushing them between your soft palms.
"like what?" he manages to mumble through it.
you lean down to kiss the tip of his nose. dean absolutely does not blush at that, either, shut up. "like you love me or something crazy like that."
"oh, can't love my wife now?" hard to speak through your light hold. easy to argue about loving you.
your hands fall to his, bending at the knee to try and haul his ass up onto the bed, too. "love me from up here." you somehow have even less balance, now, as you step backwards to make room for him on the king-sized bed, and his hand falls to your waist to steady you. "well, isn't this just the rom-com scene of the century."
dean snorts, taking your other hand into his to mimic the stance of your first dance, earlier that evening. "only you would have me dancin' on top of a bed." he pauses, shrugging lightly. "only you would have me dancin' at all."
your smile is wide and knowing. of course it is. he's not kept it a very good secret that you've got him going molten and soft, just for you.
there's no music. no sound at all beyond the hum of the air conditioner and the occasional traffic outside. even the sounds of the other hotel room doors opening and closing seems quieter here, in this moment with you. so he dances with you, keeps you upright on your feet, and doesn't seem to mind at all that this night doesn't seem to have an end in sight.
"told you the bed was nice," you say idly, just as he lowers you into a dip.
dean holds you there for a little bit of time, taking those few seconds to rake his eyes over the pristine white bedspread, and the mountain of pillows. pillows would be on the floor come morning time. sheets and blankets would be wrinkled to all hell. "not a single stain in sight," he agrees, lifting you back up to clutch you to his chest in an embrace, "wanna change that?"
"dean!" you try to scold but laugh instead, your palm flattening on his chest, curling into the white button-up's fabric. "shut up."
"what? it's a rite of passage for hotel sheets."
there's not a denial to follow, so dean breaks into a toothy, shit-eating grin.
"i think it's a great first thing to do, too, with these new wife and husband titles," he hums, mostly to himself, since you aren't arguing with him anymore.
you lift the veil off of your head and settle it on top of his, and dean really is a goddamn sucker now, because he even leans down to make it easier for you to reach. "okay," you sigh, as if you're resigning yourself to the inevitable, your mouth brushing his in a chaste kiss, "on one condition."
dean chases your mouth for a couple of more kisses, while he's got you so close. "and what's that, angel?"
you tug on the end of the veil on his head, now wearing a shit-eating grin of your own. "veil stays on during sex."
maybe he'd married a little weirdo, too.
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notes. literally saw this gif on pinterest and immediately had to write something wedding related for my pookie wookie. <3
tags. @figthoughts @jasvtsc @titsout4jackles @deansbite @whisperingwillowxox @bombarda-babe @whyyouegg @bluemerakis @loverslantern @bitchykittenconnoisseur @jensenacklesantidote @keira-kaz2y5 @sthefferrete @depressionbarbie2023 @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @bleuatlas @minettacreekk @moonstruksandco @moodyquesadilla @severe-mental-illness @gibson-g1rl @deansbeer @bluestrd @mccartneyqp @im-bili @chevroletdean @angelblqde @lyarr24 @psyches-reid @momoewn @globetrotter28 @starzify @florchids @ryngzmn @aileenunfiltered @beausling @frosttbitessam @amberlthomas
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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 8 months ago
Text
can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 1
Or: a secret Admirer AU
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Less than a month into the school year, and Steve’s already making use of the library. If Mrs. Click could see him now, she’d be proud–until she caught sight of the blank notebook page in front of him and the lack of textbooks on the table. 
He feels stupid; he’s hunched over his notebook, trying to make his thoughts transfer onto the page in any coherent form. But, he’s not like Eddie with his impassioned speeches and clever English papers.
Words flow through Eddie in fully-formed, concrete ideas. For Steve, it’s more of a drip. Each word has to be scaffolded onto the previous one with blood, sweat, and tears. Even then, it’s never quite right. Too abrupt, never what he was actually trying to say.
He’s just never been good with words.
By the time he gives up, there’s more crossed out than left written, so he gets a clean page of paper and transcribes it as best he can. He’s left with:
       Your hair is pretty. Do you use conditioner?
Steve tears it from his notebook and lays it flat atop his table in the library, smoothing out any crinkles in the page. It feels like the start to something, sure, but there’s more blank space on the page than words. By a lot.
He leans back over his work, adds a little wonky heart in his blue pen and signs the whole thing—
       ❤ your secret admirer
—the way all the girls who leave notes in his locker do. Their notes are usually on pretty paper, written in sparkly gel pen that smells like strawberries. The i’s are sometimes dotted with little hearts he’ll never admit to finding cute. And there’s envelopes involved, and usually more than eleven measly words.
His looks like something Eddie’ll toss out before opening, mistaking it for trash.
Steve grimaces. How do girls do this? Do they all take some sort of class on how to write pretty letters on pretty enough paper that boys will fall in love with them? Is that what they teach in Home Ec? He should have never let Tommy mock him into switching to shop class.
Should he ask a girl?
Under no conditions will he ever ask Carol. She’d have far too many uncomfortable questions and tell the whole school all of his embarrassing answers. He’d be run out of town within days, Carol holding the sharpest pitchfork.
Steve leans back in his chair with a groan too loud for the library and fists his hands to rub tired eyes.
“Are you okay?” Steve jerks, sending his pen and paper careening to the ground in his attempt to cover the compromising words upon the page. “Oh, sorry!”
Steve watches, horrified, as Chrissy Cunningham bends down to pick his supplies up off the carpet before he’s had time to scramble out of his chair. She’s in her cheer uniform, white zip-up Hawkins hoodie covering her arms. She looks perfect and preppy and just like all the girls who’ve ever left a note in his locker.
She’d be able to write something that Eddie would want to read.
“Steve?” Chrissy’s hovering over him, lips pursed, eyes big and worried. “Are you okay?”
“Shit, sorry,” he replies. She’s got his note clutched to her chest. He curls his fingers against the urge to reach out for it—that’ll just draw her attention, and that’s the last thing Steve wants right now. “Just got lost in my head.”
“Anything I can help with?”
He knows what she’s going to do before it happens. Chrissy’s sweet—if there’s a way to help, she’ll want to. So, she holds out the paper and begins to read, probably expecting an assignment she can tutor him on, and there they are: Steve’s damning words written in still-wet blue ink.
Her brow furrows as she takes an obscene amount of time mouthing out the words before she looks back up to meet his eyes. “Did someone give this to you?”
Her eyes are still big, but they look sad now, like just the thought of someone receiving the note he’d slaved over is enough to distress her. Unable to help himself, Steve snatches it from her hands and crumples it into a ball, damning words hidden in his fist.
Chrissy gasps at his abrupt movement and takes a halting step away.
“I wrote it,” he mutters, no longer able to meet her eyes.
She’s silent for long enough that he’d think she left, except the library’s quiet, and he hasn’t heard her take a step. He stares at the grains of the wood in the table, empty hand rubbing against the smudged top as he waits for her to do something.
“Are you…” she starts, trailing off for a moment before picking her thought back up, “…picking on someone?”
Steve clenches his fist tighter, note crinkling beyond repair beneath his nails as he mutters, “no.”
Chrissy’s quiet again. Steve doesn’t dare to look up, even as he hears the chair across from him pull out, the sound of her weight settling into the wood. The table’s just so interesting. Nothing has ever been as intriguing as the little chip out of its edge, the ring on the wood where someone had let their drink condensate against all the library’s rules.
“Who’s this for?” Chrissy’s voice is soft now, like he’s some sort of horse, prone to bolting when spooked. “Steve?”
Steve looks up. Her eyes aren’t sad anymore; they’re piercing.
He’s always liked Chrissy. She’s the nicest girl in the school, until someone does something she doesn’t like. Then, it’s all disappointed eyes, and pouty lips. It’s like disappointing his Mom, but worse, because his Mom’s never around to stare balefully at him.
The point is, Chrissy’s nice. She’s not like Carol. If he told her, there would be no lynch mob, or fleeing Hawkins in the dead of the night with nothing but the clothes on his back. Probably. Maybe.
Steve tries to smooth out the page, and scowls down at it when the wrinkles refuse to disappear. It’s even worse now, words made illegible by the deep creases his fingers have pressed into the paper. There’s no way Eddie’d ever want a note like this.
So, he says, “Munson,” looking up to try to watch his meaning land on her face.
It doesn’t. Her foreheads all scrunched up as she looks down at the note. Only then does Steve realize he’s caressing the wonky little heart. He pulls his hand back, curling his fingers in so she can’t see the smudge of blue on his pointer finger.
“And you aren’t making fun of him?”
Steve can feel his shoulders drooping. He wants to disappear into the floor, melt into the carpet and become one with all the other mysterious stains upon it. “No.”
“Oh,” Chrissy replies, drawn out and low as she peers down at the crinkled note with a confused frown. But something must click because she straightens, eyes wide beneath her bangs. “Oh!”
It’s loud enough that they both reflexively flinch. But, when no librarians come skulking around any corners, Chrissy turns back to him, gaze uncomfortably intent. Steve wonders, somewhat horrified by the turn his life has taken, if he’s about to get hate-crimed by a cheerleader half his size.
But Chrissy’s nice—always has been, always will be. So, she bites her lip and looks furtively around like she’s only just realized this is a conversation that shouldn’t have any witnesses. “But you like him?” she whispers.
Steve leans forward, matching her energy and pitch as he replies, “yeah,” quiet enough that it’s barely a breath. Chrissy smiles at him, warm and small, just like her hand as she reaches across the table to put it over his and squeeze comfortingly.
The note sits, damningly soiled beneath their linked hands, wrinkled, and smudged, and barely-legible handwriting. The weight that’d lifted with Chrissy’s smile sinks back into his gut.
“But it doesn’t matter,” Steve says, letting go of her hand so he can pull the note closer to himself. “I’m no good at this stuff.”
Steve crinkles the note back up. It’s unsalvageable—a stupid idea executed badly.
He’s in the middle of stuffing it into the pocket of his jeans to keep his keys company until he can toss it out in the comfort of his home when Chrissy says, “maybe I can help?” voice lilting up, like it’s a question.
Steve meets her eyes, hand still half-shoved in his pocket. She’s all earnest now, the way she usually is when there isn’t a sad boy infecting her with his own ineptitude. Eyes shining with conviction, bangs curling sweetly around her face. She’s no Carol, that’s for sure.
“How?” he asks, and when she smiles, it looks a bit like hope.
***
 “I can help you write a better letter,” Chrissy starts. He perks up like a dog the moment its owner gets home. “If you do something for me.”
She feels like scum when he curls back into himself, gaze forlorn.
When she’d caught sight of the note he’d spent what seemed like a full hour pouring over, this isn’t what she’d been expecting. And when she’d finally made out his chicken scratch scrawl, she’d been sure Steve was picking on someone, no matter how unlike him it would have been. But then his shoulders had curled in, and his ears had turned red, and his voice had gone all soft and squishy when he’d said Eddie Munson’s name.
And she’d just wanted to fix it.
So, even as he asks, “what?” all sad and droopy again, she knows she’s going to help him, no matter what he says.
“Date me,” she asserts. It’s only as Steve blinks stupidly at her that she realizes how that came out of her mouth. “No, wait, not really!”
Her hands are waving around wildly and she can feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. In contrast, Steve seems to come back into himself, shoulders shoring up as he smirks across at her with his signature raised brow. The one he’d used while leaning on Nancy Wheeler’s locker last year, or holding her books as they walked to class, and all the other assortment of stereotypical boyfriend activities.
He’d worn it all the time, like it was part of the uniform. 
“I just meant, we could fake it?” His right eyebrow raises to meet his left, forehead scrunching up with his incredulity. “It’s just, Jason and I broke up? And he won’t leave me alone.”
It takes all her strength to keep meeting his eyes as the seconds tick away. But then Steve nods, swings his letterman jacket off, and tosses it across at her. Unprepared for his sudden movement, it hits her in the face and drops into her lap.
“There you go, sweetheart,” he says with a cheesy wink that somehow manages to feel more genuine than any of his actual flirting techniques. “Gotta sell it somehow.”
“What a romantic,” she replies, deadpan, but she pulls his jacket on anyway, something that feels an awful lot like relief steadying her heart rate as she smooths down the too-long sleeves.
Jason’s going to freak out. But after that, maybe he’ll stop calling her house, and trying to put his arm around her at lunch, and trying to pick her up for school every morning. She’d do almost anything to get it into his thick skull that she’s not interested.
So, here she is, hashing out the details of a secret admirer letter from Steve Harrington to Eddie Munson, of all the unlikely pairings.
“What’s wrong with what I wrote?” Steve whines, running his fingers through his hair until it’s all mussed up and falling into his face.
Chrissy snorts. “It sounds like you’re telling him his hair is frizzy and dry.”
“I said it was pretty!” He throws his hands in the air before crossing them and pouting his lower lip out.
Chrissy can’t help but laugh. She’s always liked Steve. He’s nicer than most of his friends, and he’s easy to talk to. But this is a side she’s never seen of him. She’s not sure anyone has; can’t imagine Carol or Tommy seeing him put his whole heart into something and not tearing it to shreds.
“Do you use conditioner?” she asks, throwing finger quotations around it as she reads it off the crumpled page.
Steve’s blushing again, cheeks all blotchy and red, rather unbecoming for the shoo-in for this year’s prom king. “Well, I thought you said you’d help!” he says, a little too loud for the library.
So, that’s how she ends up spending the next hour painfully turning Steve’s earnest thoughts into words on the pretty baby blue paper she’d carefully removed from the back of her daily planner.
In the end, they’re left with this:
       Eddie –
       I wish I could say this to your face, but I’ve never been good with words, and you’d probably think it was a joke.
       I can’t even get myself to talk to you, you’re so distracting.
       I like how pretty your hair is. How do you get your curls so shiny? I want to run my fingers through them.
       I hope this note brightens up your day. You deserve all the smiles you can get.
       Yours,
       Your Secret Admirer
It’s not what she would write, but still, it’s leagues better than what he’d started with. She slides it across to Steve, and he smiles down at it. He reaches his hand out, fingers almost brushing the page before he pulls his hand back, curling his fingers into a fist.
“What if someone sees me?” he asks, voice so quiet she can barely hear him even in the resounding silence of the library.
They’d managed not to talk about it, the dangers of Steve liking a boy. But it’d been present in the hesitancy by which he shared each of his thoughts, looking up at her like each remark would be the last straw before she recoils in disgust.
If someone finds out that Steve has a crush on a boy, it won’t take long until he’s getting beat up between classes or heckled straight out of school. Heck, even with all the rumors floating around about him, Eddie might be the one to throw the first punch.
“Do you want me to deliver it for you?” she asks.
“You’d do that?” he asks back, because apparently no one ever taught him not to answer a question with a question. “For me?”
“What else are fake girlfriends for?” she asks because they’re all questions now, no answers to be had between the pair of them.
Steve laughs, all tension leaving his shoulders as he throws his head back with amusement, eyes downright twinkling as he beams across at her.
“You’re the best, Chrissy,” Steve says, smiling even brighter as she replies, “I know.”
She leaves school that night after pushing Steve Harrington’s love note through the slats of Eddie’s locker, Steve’s letterman jacket keeping her warm from the cold.
This might be the best relationship she’s ever had, fake or not. Eat your heart out, Jason Carver.
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PART 2
Welcome to my new AU! This will be posted in 21 parts. It is complete, so there will be a new update each morning until it's all posted. I've elected not to do a tag list, but it will be added to my pinned post each day as well. If that's not your speed, it will be added to Ao3 once it's all been posted here.
Special shoutout to @queenie-ofthe-void for not only their usual fabulous beta work, but also both the original idea and the writing of some of the secret admirer letters. You not only make me a better writer, but this work literally would not exist without you. <3<3
Title of the fic from the song Eyes in the Sun by Florist
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augustjoy · 6 months ago
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I Can’t Stand You
Sneak peek: Hotch calls you out for making a “reckless” call while on a case. When he confronts you in your shared hotel room…the dam finally breaks, and the tension is released.
Aaron Hotchner x (Fem) BAU Reader
Angst/Smut
Word count: 1492
REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited, please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!
Warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! My blog is 18+, minors DNI, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader other than she/her pronouns and female anatomy, implied age gap (kinda?), explicit language, sexual themes, P in V sex, unprotected sex (Don’t do this!), fingering, groping, shower scene, canon typical violence, slight sub/dom talk, let me know if I missed any!!!
I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.
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You were fuming. He scolded you, like a puppy who had peed on the carpet. What’s worse is that he did it in front of the entire team. The second you had closed the door, securing the unsub in the back of the government issued SUV, he turned to you, ready to spar.
“What the hell was that?” Hotch spat.
You had to glance around to confirm it was you he was speaking to. Each of your teammates sharing the same shocked expression you currently wore.
“What are you talking about? You questioned.
“You walked down into that basement, knowing full well he was likely armed, defying my direct order to wait for backup. What the hell were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that we needed to catch this unsub! Are you seriously mad at me right now? For what, doing my job?”  You sneered.
--
Your argument with Hotch was heated, so much so that everyone managed to squeeze themselves into one SUV just so they wouldn’t have to be in the car with you and Hotch.
It was like a sparring match. He’d jab and you’d block with a perfect retort. Every once in a while you land a perfect jab, and it would stun him to silence, but only for a moment. This continued on the entire ride back to the precinct and then again to the hotel.
You made your way to the elevator, expecting Hotch to follow behind and continue his scolding. With a glance over your shoulder, you were proven wrong, seeing him head over to the hotel bar.
Maybe it was a good thing, at least this way you’d get to shower in peace.
--
“Aaron you were pretty hard on her.” Dave chided.
“She needs to learn Dave. She continues to be reckless on cases, just throwing herself into the line of fire. She’s driving me insane.” Aaron huffed.
“I think you care about her. More than you’d like to admit. And that is why you’re so upset; you don’t want to see her get hurt. Because the fact of the matter is, you’d have done exactly what she did had you gotten to the basement first.”
With that, Dave stood, pat Aaron on the shoulder, then made his exit. Aaron was left to ponder Dave’s words. Was he right? Did he feel this way because he had deeper feelings for you?
--
You had just finished rinsing the conditioner out of you hair when Aaron entered your shared hotel room. Due to the sound of the shower though…you hadn’t heard him come in. You had also neglected to ensure the door was fully closed.
As he made his way into the room, he couldn’t help but notice the steam flowing out of the bathroom, further drawing his attention to the very open door. Once glance into the mirror brought your naked form into view through the glass shower walls.
Aaron wasn’t sure if it was the glass of whiskey or Dave’s words that led him to his next move…but either way, things were sure to change.
--
“I can’t stand you.”
“Jesus! Hotch, what the hell are you doing?” You shouted, weakly attempting to preserve your modesty.
“The reason I was so pissed at you earlier is because I can’t stand you. You are so willing to put yourself in danger and it drives me mad.” Aaron let out a huff.  “I can’t stand that I can’t get you out of my head. And please don’t play dumb, I know you must feel something too. I see the way you look at me.”
You released a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Your eyes scanning his face, searching for any indication that this was a sick joke. Seeing nothing but sincerity in his eyes, you let your arms fall to your sides.
Everything after that happened so fast.
Aaron pulled the shower door open, and you dragged him to you with his tie. His lips pressed to yours in a searing kiss, hands exploring your naked form. Your own attempting to peel off his now wet clothes.
His lips were trailing down your neck, as his nimble fingers found your pebbled nipples, lightly rolling them between his fingers. You released a gasp, your head falling back against the wall of the shower.
“You’re so beautiful.” Aaron whispered.
 A small moan escaped you. “I want to see you” you huffed.
The two of you moved to rid him of the rest of his clothes, dropping them to the floor of the shower in a soaking heap. You let your gaze drag over the expanse of Aaron’s body, your eyes widening at his impressive size. As your gaze moved back up, Aaron’s eyes met yours and they were filled with adoration. Aaron reached to turn the water off and led you to his bed.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” He confirmed.
“God yes, I’m sure.”
Aaron laid you down on the bed and moved to hover over you, his erection pressing against your inner thigh as his lips pressed to your breasts. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you as Aaron pressed a finger to your entrance, slipping in with little resistance.
“You’re so wet.” He whispered against your skin.
“This was all I could think about while you were scolding me earlier.” You admitted.
A breathy chuckle puffed against your flushed chest. He couldn’t keep his mind from wandering to filthy thoughts of you and him – his dominance a clear turn on for you.
Aaron pressed another finger into your core, the pressure causing you to gasp out. You let your eyes fall shut, trying to focus on the pleasure and not the slight pain.
“I know, I just have to get you ready baby.”
His fingers shifted in and out, carefully preparing you for the stretch his cock would bring. Once he saw the scrunch of your brow relax, and the pain subside, he guided his cock to your entrance. His gaze finding yours, as his other hand caressed your cheek.
“Look at me.” He whispered.
Your eyes opened to meet his just as he presses forward, slowly stretching you even further. Aaron was quick to swallow your moans as he allowed his tongue to explore your mouth. Your hands found his shoulders, gripping fiercely as he pulled almost entirely out before snapping his hips forward in a sharp thrust. He couldn’t believe how tight you were, gripping him like a vice and yet he couldn’t get enough, he continued these sharp thrusts.
Every time he did this, it took your breath away. Aaron continued on like this, slow, sensual, but also hard and deep. You could feel him deeper than you’d ever felt any man you’d been with.
“So…so full” you could barely get the words out, it felt like the wind had been knocked out of you.
“You’re taking it so well.” Aaron praised.
The sounds you were currently emitting were purely pornographic, and Aaron was loving every minute of it. Every little moan or breath had encouraged him to press harder, his hand coming down to press against your stomach – this action causing a particularly loud groan.
“Fuck, you’re so big.” You whined.
“I want you to cum for me baby.” He encouraged.
All you could do was nod franticly, wanting nothing more than to please him. Aaron loved how submissive you were being…it was a total 180 from your earlier defiance. He went ahead and moved his hand lower so his fingers could circle your clit. He was getting desperate to feel the squeeze of your release against him.
He decided to pick up the pace – that along with his ministrations against your sensitive nub, were sure to push you over the edge. And sure enough, you were quick to prove him right, reaching your peak with a scream of his name, your head collapsing backward.
“Where do you want me to…”
“Inside…fuck Aaron please.” You cried.
Aaron let out a low growl, he must’ve died and gone to heaven because this was truly a dream come true. He shifted his arms so they were pressed to the backs of your thighs, forcing your legs over his shoulders. You couldn’t believe that he was so deep.
His thrusts had sped up, but were losing their meticulous rhythm, you could tell he was close. What you hadn’t expected however was another orgasm to overtake you so suddenly. And just as Aaron was about to finish, your body began to spasm – the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had washing over you. Aaron could only groan, filling you up, as you soaked him.
“You’re so fucking sexy.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder.
“If this is the reward I get for being a pain in your ass, then I can’t stand you either.” You let out a giggle.
Aaron chuckled, bringing his lips to your own.
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mariposticc · 2 months ago
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end of the day shower w/ katsuki⋆˚࿔
sappy!bakugou x fem!reader sfw!
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hot water spurting from the shower head in your shared bathroom with katsuki, sighing as you step in to the steam.
"mind if i join you?"
you boyfriend asks as he slightly opens the shower curtain to see you standing there underneath the steamy water
"not at all"
you step closer to the shower head as he makes is way toward you, hissing as the scolding water hits his muscular frame
"waters always so fuckin hot with you"
"mmm but i like it that way"
you say as you wrap your arms around him, kissing him softly before turning around to grab your shampoo.
bakugou steps closer into the flowing water as you lather your head with your sweet smelling soap
"shit's so girly, dont know how you use it"
"yeah but you love it baby"
he hums as his body adjusts to the water, wetting his hair before you join him and rinse off the shampoo, katsuki goes to reach for his own soap before you lightly grab his arm and ask to do it for him
"tch, you just want some dumb excuse to play with my hair"
you giggle as you squeeze some soapy liquid onto your hands, lathering it together then rubbing it through your boyfriends hair.
"so pretty kats, so so pretty"
you him as he relaxes under your touch, feeling your soft hands massage and scrub at his blonde hair
letting him rinse off you start to put in your conditioner and clip up your hair to let it sit, picking up your body wash and putting it on a sponge, wanting to return the favour katsuki grabs the sponge from your hands and starts to rub across your chest, then arms, then stomach, eyes focused on your body, like it's a roman statue that deserves to be admired
lingering hands and soft grazes end as you step into the water to rinse off you body and hair, bakugou quickly washes off his body before you both step out of the shower.
He lazily wraps a towel around his waist then grabs yours and starts to pat down your entire body
"y'know i love ya sweets, love feelin you like this"
he says as his wraps the towel around you body.
finally ending up in the mirror together, looking at each other in the reflection as you brush your teeth and leaving the bathroom to head to bed.
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cheeseceli · 11 months ago
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you have curly hair
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Pairing: Ot8 Skz × Gn!reader (individually)
Genre: fluff, reaction
Request: an s/o who has curly/wavy hair and feels insecure about it? Maybe skz got used to seeing them with straight hair and one day they catch them with their natural hair?
Warnings: not proofread
A/n: curly hair girls for the win | fundraiser
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Bang Chan
‌oh my God, twins?!
‌honestly he loves that you guys have this in common
‌he'll start wearing his curly hair more often
‌you'd both learn how to take care of it together
‌😔 that's so couple goals of you two
‌he'll even try to make some hair styles on you
‌at first he would fail so badly but it would be funny at least 😭
‌but in the end he'd get pretty decent in some of them honestly
‌so that's a slay
‌understands when you're not confident about your looks because same
‌but he's so ready to try and reassure you of your beauty
Lee Know
‌i think he'd have seen some pictures of you before you straightened your hair
‌and he was like "oh it looked pretty as well"
‌but then he sees it in real life
‌and he's like
‌"I underestimated it. I underestimated it so badly"
‌he just can't get over the fact that you look GORGEOUS
‌he finds it so fluffy😭
‌and i think he'd love it when you just woke up or something and the hair is a bit messy
‌because it's so?? pretty??
‌no matter if you say you hate it, he finds it to be your best look just yet
Changbin
‌you guys are also matching!!
‌he won't ever shut up about this btw
‌starts to wear his wavy hair more often too
‌stay are forever grateful to you for that
‌absolutely loves when you make new hairstyles
‌even if you end up failing on styling it, he still hypes you up
‌is already on his way to contact the best hairdressers in town just for you
‌and to buy whatever you may need to take care of it all
‌if you let him play with your hair as well, he could die a happy man
Hyunjin
‌has the most lovestruck gaze ever
‌right when he swore you could not get any prettier...
‌of course you had to go and prove him wrong
‌finds your natural hair to be the creation of some goddess or something like that, no way that is a human trait
‌ overall he's just falling in love even more after seeing the way your curls frame your face
‌compliments just flow so naturally out of his lips and he's like damn
‌needless to say he'll be painting this for weeks to go
Han
‌immediately betrayed because why didn't you tell him you had curly hair any sooner??
‌he could've been getting blessed by such a vision for ages
‌and you just didn't let him??
‌jokes asides, he can't put his mind on the fact that you look even better (how is that possible fr)
‌immediately on his knees begging you to keep your hair this way more times
‌he'll even learn how to take care of it if you don't want to do it yourself!!
‌actually I think he'd find the whole process kinda therapeutic
‌so that's a win win right
Felix
‌😮
‌ that's him right now
‌in the most adorable way ever
‌he just finds you so cute with it
‌it makes you look like an angel
‌really wants to touch your curls but he's so afraid he'd mess them up lmao
‌but he truly loves it
‌won't shut up about this for a hot minute
‌will also take thousands of pictures
‌with you posing or just candids, whatever
‌he just needs to eternalise this moment
Seungmin
‌finds it fluffy PT.2
‌idk you just look so... dreamy?
‌renaissance aesthetic you know
‌he loves it
‌next thing you know is that he bought you tones of things to take care of your hair
‌shampoo, conditioner, mascara... you tell it
‌he did his research okay
‌lowkey doesn't understand how you can be insecure about it because??
‌he loves how you look with the curls
‌he loves your appearance no matter what tbh but your natural hair is just something else
‌it really emphasizes the you in you if that makes sense
‌words of affirmation isn't his strongest love language but boy, isn't he ready to compliment you as much as he can
I.N
‌he has a somewhat cocky smile on his face
‌like, you're just so attractive like that
‌you already were, but now you're just ten times more
‌and it also fits you so well
‌it gives you more aura if you know what I mean
‌and if you do those really cute and creative hairstyles he's so !!
‌he finds it amazing
‌has a whole Pinterest board on inspiration for hairstyles because damn, he didn't know he needed you in those before he saw it for the first time
‌a lot of accessories as well
‌he'll find a way to match your hair accessories to some of his own acessories
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Masterlist | you'll probably like: you have a lot of tattoos
Thank you for reading <3
Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143 @sleepyleeji
Credits for images 1 2 and 3
Dividers by @isisjupiter
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firingstars · 1 month ago
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neighborly advice | ch. 6
bucky barnes x female reader
summary: you start to get ready for your date while a fly keeps constantly buzzing around you. bucky calls sam and reflects on himself.
warnings: mdni, eventual smut, timeline is somewhere around the middle/end of fatws, language, alcohol, spam texting, friend breakups, bucky's angry, shifting povs, no use of y/n
word count: 3.4k
a/n: i'm writing mannnny chapters rn. i also have a vague idea for a bucky x avengers!reader if anyone may be interested in that. taglist is also open for anyone who would like to join :)
previous chapter | next chapter
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Leah [9:32am]: seriously? you’re still not gonna text me back?
Leah [9:33am]: heellllloooooo
Leah [9:34am]: i don’t rly think this is so serious for u to be acting like this…
Missed call from Leah (2) [9:57am] 
You groaned at the incessant buzzing at the side of your pillow. It really would not end. She wouldn’t leave you alone. For some reason, she was making this your fault. You knew you had to talk to her at some point, but this just wasn’t the time. 
You sighed, moving to go to open your window and crawl into the fire escape for a moment. You needed fresh air. At this time of day, there would be no quiet for you to look forward to, but you could at least savor some moments of peace away from the phone. 
“Morning. Didn’t know you came out here, too.”
You couldn’t help but smile at the voice, and turned. Bucky was out at his fire escape, too. He looked a little sleepy with semi messy hair. 
“Every once in a while when I need to escape,” you answered. 
“Rough night?” he asked.
“Super. My best friend won’t stop texting me because she asked the guy I have a crush on a date,” you said, and watched him pause. The confession dawned upon him— the fact that Leah was your best friend and that you have a crush on him. “I haven’t answered her, so she’s getting weirdly defensive over text.”
“Damn.” He ran his hand through his hair, thinking for a moment. “Sounds like something that happened to a buddy of mine recently.”
“Really? What happened?” you hummed, playing into his scenario.
“Poor guy got roped into a date,” he said with a shake of his head. “Real stupid guy, I tell you. Didn’t even try to clear it up at the time. Didn’t even know what to say. If it were me, I would’ve shut that shit down real fast.”
“Oh? Would you now?” you asked with a small giggle. 
“Of course. I have someone I have an eye on,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Anyways, he went on the date to be polite, and tried telling the girl that he had no interest. She kept telling him to just go with the flow, and at least give it a shot, and offered to continue drinks back at her place. He declined, and went home.”
“Mm… I see,” you said, nodding thoughtfully. Shit. You really had to grill Leah now. What the hell was she thinking? “Well, Bucky. Thanks for telling me about your friend. It helps me out a lot. I do have to go back inside. I have a date later today, and I’m not too sure what time he’s picking me up so I gotta go be prepared for whenever.”
Bucky let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. He smiled at you again, “I’ll see you later tonight.”
You grinned at him, moving to head back indoors. At least your situation with Bucky was taken care of. However, it just opened up another issue with Leah. A small twinge of anxiety hit your stomach again. What were you going to do about work? The monthly check in with your mom was coming up in a week and a half. You had no lab, no sponsors, no research team.
You need to focus on one thing at a time. Right now, an early lunch. There was some leftover duck and rice from last night that you could heat up, and your stomach would be more than filled until dinner. So, that’s what you did. Ate your food happily, then went to start your date ritual.
An everything shower. You made sure to really scrub the shampoo into your scalp, then allowed for the deep conditioner to really penetrate into the locks to ensure maximum shininess and gloss for whenever you would move around later in the night. While that was settling in, you carefully took your time exfoliating and shaving absolutely every part of your body that there was hair. You would be smoother than a seal.
Not that you expected for anything to happen tonight. Maybe you would just hold hands. After all, he gave you flowers last night– flowers that were proudly displayed on your coffee table for you to see every time you walked into your apartment. You still shaved carefully and closely anyway. You never know what could happen. You didn’t expect to make out with him the other night, that was for sure. Who’s to say you didn’t end up in his bed? For the second time, at that. Hopefully with him in it, too. 
Once the shower was over, you lotioned to moisturize and begin your skincare routine. Your skin would not be rough, and you would smell good. The perfume got layered on now, and you would add another fresh layer right before you went out the door to really seal in the scent. You would do your makeup later– it was still a bit earlier in the day and you had more than enough time to get ready. You let your hair air dry after towel drying it a bit, deciding that you would use the flat iron as the heat later on. In the meantime, you would decide on your outfit.
You rummaged through the closet, desperately trying to figure out what would be appropriate for tonight. You had no idea what he had planned. You could always go next door and knock on his door, ask what he was thinking about doing, but that would be too much. You needed to build suspense, too. You couldn’t seem too interested, or something like that. 
Bzzt!
The buzz of your phone took you out of your staring contest with your closet, and a frown began to form on your face.
Leah [2:37pm]: i’m coming over
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Bucky sat there like an asshole, and he knew it. He was so glad his neighbor had no form of spy training– he read her face instantly and his heart dropped through his stomach. She was pissed. No, she was more than pissed.
“Wait,” he whispered, breathing out her name like it was a prayer. She didn’t listen. She turned back and walked away without looking back once.
“There you go! A date. Isn’t that so easy? No dancing required,” Mr. Nakajima grinned at Bucky, who was at a loss. He was still trying to process what exactly had just happened to him. There was no way that had just occurred, in front of her no less. He needed to go. He needed to run after her, now, and tell her that he was sorry and that this wasn’t right. 
This entire situation left a bitter taste in his mouth. Sure, he was known as a heart breaker back in the day, but he never fooled around with more than one girl at the same time– even if they weren’t official. He had four younger sisters that looked up to him. Bucky set the example of what his sisters should look for when they were going out into the world. 
He was in new waters. The 21st century was a scary place, with a different set of rules, and he was still trying to learn. His old fashioned ways were clearly outdated. Some of them were working, but other than that? Things were different. However, he wasn’t so wrong to assume that the girl he made out with a handful of nights ago was angry that he had just been asked out by another girl right in front of her, and he didn’t say a single word in retaliation.
Bucky stayed put for a few moments, eating slowly and waiting for the bartender to come back towards them. What did Nakajima call her? Leah? When she came back over, he would tell her that he was actually not available that night, definitely was not free for any kind of date, and would not be any time soon. 
The bartender never came back to their area. Yet, she kept glancing over at him. She locked eyes with him, giving him a wink and a smirk every once in a while that made him tense in an uncomfortable way. After the third time, he decided this was enough.
“Mr. Nakajima, I gotta go, too,” Bucky said, clapping a hand on his back. He forced a tight lipped smile onto his face.
“What? Cutting our lunch so soon?”
“I’ll make it up to you another time. Forgot that my coworker asked me to do something for him,” he lied, dropping a few bills on the counter to cover for his portion and Nakajima’s. 
“You and that child,” the old man sighed. “You both work too hard.”
Bucky could only let out a fake laugh before quickly walking out the door and into the street. He did his best to walk as normally as possible, taking a quick look of his surroundings to check who was watching. When the coast was clear, he dipped into the nearest alleyway to scale the building. He needed to take the fastest route to the apartment buildings, and if he had to run the rooftops to get to her, then he would.
He needed to talk to her. Explain the situation. Tell her that this was a mistake, that he messed up, and he was dumb, and that he was sorry. Yet, once he was standing there with her right in front of him, the words were knocked out of his system.
Bucky couldn’t say a damn thing.
She was angry, that was for sure. Knowing she was angry at him made the uncomfortable pit in his stomach grow even wider and deeper. There was also a nagging part of him that found her adorable. She was frowning, but in a cute way. Her lip was in a slight pout, her eyebrows were pulled together in a slight arch as she looked up at him. She was so angry, but so cute. He was taking her seriously, but she was a breathtaking sight even when she looked like she wanted to punch him in the face.
Momentarily, Bucky considered letting her. If it would stop her from being angry at him, he would definitely let her. It wouldn’t do anything to hurt him, he was certain, but he would definitely let her try. 
The door was shut in his face before he could convince her to stay, before he could properly find the words to apologize. What made him even more upset with himself was that she didn’t even find it in herself to slam the door shut in his face, like he had done to her before. No, she was nice. Shit.
Her patience could only go so far though. Persistence could only do so much, and there was not much that he could do if she didn’t want to talk to him. After knocking and waiting outside for two hours, he went to his apartment and paced around for an hour. He couldn’t think. She baked him muffins for an apology. Then what? She waited for him to come home and open the door. If she wasn’t opening the door, then what?
“Fuck,” he grunted, pulling his phone out. Bucky could already feel the regret seeping into his bones as he pressed only the contact he had in his phone. 
The line connected almost instantly.
“Buck. Are you good?” Sam’s voice came from the other end, frantic. 
“I’m fine. Calm down,” Bucky said with a sigh, dropping onto his couch. He pinched the bridge of his nose.
“You never call me, so excuse me for being worried!” Sam snapped at him, though Bucky could pick up on the teasing tone. “If you’re not dying somewhere, then what’s up?”
“I think I messed up. No, actually, I know I messed up,” Bucky confessed. “I don’t know what to do.”
Sam was silent on the other end. Bucky could hear the grin on his face begin to slowly form, and he wanted to punch a hole in the wall. Then, laughter started to rumble from the other side “Is that really James Buchanan Barnes on the other end of this phone call?” Sam exclaimed loudly in between bursts of laughter. “Because I swear– someone just asked me for advice and the Bucky that I know would never!”
“Alright, fuck you. I’ll figure it out myself.” Bucky took his phone away from his ear, ready to press the red button on the screen when he heard the frantic noises of his friend on the other line.
“Wait! Wait wait wait! I’m joking! Buck, stop. I’m all ears. What’s going on, seriously?” Sam asked, taking a deep breath. “Talk to me.”
Bucky swallowed, staring daggers into the coffee table in front of him. Then, he confessed. Explained the situation to Sam, who, surprisingly, listened quietly from start to finish. He didn’t even give any ad libs or anything like that. Just listened without any judgement or noise. Then, when Bucky was finished, he finally spoke.
“Yeah. You fucked up, Buck.”
“Why the hell do you think I called you?” Bucky demanded as Sam sighed on the other end. “Should I just stand up the bartender?”
“Well, no,” Sam said quickly. “You go to that place every Wednesday with your old guy friend, and she works there. That would make it awkward, and it’s clear that your old guy friend likes her and looks after her. You don’t want to make an enemy like that. So just go on the date, but let her down gently. Tell her you’re not interested from the start, and just get the hell out. No muss, no fuss.”
“Right. Okay.” Bucky nodded, even though Sam clearly couldn’t see him.
“And with your neighbor– why don’t you just text her or something? I understand talking to her face to face is a good thing, but it would be good to also let her know that you’re sorry as soon as possible.”
Bucky froze. He didn’t reply. Sam caught it, and they sat in silence for a while.
“Bucky.”
“Sam.”
“Do you have her phone number?”
“That’s an irrelevant question. Tell me how to make her forgive me.”
“You’re fucking hopeless.”
“Dude,” Bucky groaned.
“Okay, fine! Girls like flowers. Or at least, most girls do. Unless they’re woke or something, I don’t know. My sister said some shit about that the other day and it confused the hell out of me– anyways. She seems like the kinda girl that would like flowers,” Sam quickly said. “Get her some flowers. You can do that, right? Isn’t that right up your alley? You’ve given flowers in the 40s, right?”
“Of course I’ve given flowers, Sam, I’m not an asshole,” Bucky snapped. Truthfully, the idea had not crossed his mind. He would have to credit Sam, but only in his head. 
“Start there,” Sam said with a sigh. “Just be yourself, Buck. She liked you enough to make out with you, so there’s obviously something wrong with her head–”
“I’m hanging up,” Bucky announced, slamming his finger into the red button on the screen. He could practically hear Sam’s cackle from wherever the hell he was.
Bucky went to go get the flowers right after hanging up. The flower stand that he knew of would be closed in the next few hours, and he wanted to be able to get her a nice bouquet. So, he stood there, for about forty-five minutes, staring down each and every individual petal. He criticized every single flower. If there was a bruise or a fold, he didn’t want anything to do with it. If there was a sign of a wilt, he got offended. It needed to be as close to perfect, something that was almost as beautiful as her.
The florist at the shop ended up custom making him a bouquet with the flowers he picked out of other bouquets to get him the hell away from his stand. Bucky was supposedly scaring away other potential customers, not that he cared. He was satisfied with his arrangement.
Bucky did try one more time at her apartment, knocking again. He knew she wouldn’t answer, but it didn’t hurt to try. He could only let out a deep sigh before moving to have the flowers rest in his apartment in water, waiting to be properly placed in its home beside his. Then, he waited for ten to roll around. He needed to go turn down the bartender.
Bucky wasn’t new to the act of seduction. If he had to grade Leah, she would have a big fat fucking F. 
She pulled her top down more than it should naturally be stretched in order to expose more of her chest. She went as far as leaning forward on the table and pressing her elbows together as she looked at him between her eyelashes, begging him to sit down and just have a couple of drinks with her to unwind.
“I’m good,” he said, shaking his head. “Like I said, this date really wasn’t part of my plan today. I’m really sorry to have wasted your time.”
Leah pouted at him, and she leaned back in her seat. She tilted her head at him, and huffed. “So, I touched up my makeup for nothing?”
“Really sorry about that,” he apologized again. 
“Just take a seat, if you’re really so sorry,” she tried again, gesturing to the chair in front of hers. Bucky let out a sigh.
“Listen, I really have to get going. I only stopped by to let you know that I can’t do this, and I don’t have any interest in dating right now. I didn’t want to be an asshole and have you wait all night for me.”
“Well, that’s kind of you.” She smiled at him. “You know, you are here now. Why not just go with the flow? It’s already so late at night. If you’re not interested in being here at the restaurant twice in one day, I get it. I’ve been stuck at the restaurant all day, so I could use a change of pace, too.”
“Oh, no. It wasn’t an invitation,” Bucky said quickly. “I’ll be going. By myself.”
“Don’t be like that.” Leah frowned at him, standing up. She walked over to him, standing right in front of him. “I just want to get to know you a bit. We can take drinks back to my place, if you want?”
The bartender reached a hand out to touch his arm, and a brief wave of panic rushed over him. No. He didn’t want to be touched, but he also couldn’t just attack this woman for no reason. Bucky quickly shifted, angling his body away. She swiped at the air, and she stumbled forward a little bit. The man cleared his throat, clenching his jaw.
“Have a good night. I’ll be leaving now,” he told her, turning away.
“Wait!” she called after him, but he was quicker than she was. He needed to get far.
Maybe Sam’s advice fucking sucked. Maybe it would have been better to stand her up than have to deal with whatever bullshit that was. Clearly, she was insane. Maybe she thought he was playing hard to get? He was certain that he said no more than enough times. A strange feeling filled his gut. He hated it. The feeling of not being in control again. He let out a shaky breath, and started his walk back home. 
He wanted to see his neighbor. Wanted to be in her presence, give her the flowers he picked for her. Bucky wanted to see her face, even if she was mad at him. Wanted to listen to her talk, even if she didn’t have much to say to him. Just something to be near her, even for a little bit.
So he waited outside her door. He didn’t hear her through the walls. There wasn’t any soft snoring from the bedroom. He didn’t hear any pens against paper, nor any devices inside. She wasn’t home, he was certain. So, Bucky stood there, flowers in hand.
When he heard her footsteps, he could only let out a breath of relief. When he saw her face, his anxiety dissipated. Everything was okay. The fear was melting away, just from looking at her. It hit him hard, then and there.
Bucky had already fallen for her, and he hoped the fall would never end.
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dubiousanon · 3 months ago
Note
Shikamaru have Nara fixation chefs kiss
More Nara Fixation Headcanons (ShikaNaru edition) 🦌🍜
-Shikamaru doesn't even try to hide it. He doesn't see the point. Every time he pushes a little further, Naruto gives way with a big smile. He's rubber, malleable and easygoing, and nothing Shikamaru does fazes him. As long as he has a friend, he doesn't even care.
-Is it a little weird that the first time Shikamaru comes over, he goes into the bathroom and sniffs every bottle of soap, shampoo and conditioner? Checks his toothpaste brand? Opens all his cabinets and digs through his dishes? Looks at every single article of clothing in his closet and dresser, and unscrews the cap of his detergent just to sniff that too?
-Like, yeah. But Shikamaru is his friend, so obviously it's fine. He probably has a good reason
-His good reason is a slowly rising obsession that gets worse and worse. Because at first, there's plentiful information to be learned. So many new things to find out and discover, but what happens when that starts to slow down? When he kinda knows everything? When he picks apart every piece of Naruto's life and existence?
-He still wants more.
-So then it moves into wanting to know the shape of Naruto's teeth, and the best way to know that would be to trace them with his tongue. He wants to know what he tastes like all over. He wants to know the feel of his skin. What do his muscles feel like when they ripple? How far can he bend? What noises would be make if—
-The point is, Shikamaru starts to run out of things to learn. And he wants to know it all. Happy Naruto, sad, angry, hurt, overjoyed, emotional, confused, pleased. Every facet of him, Shikamaru wants to swallow it whole and commit it to memory.
-He brings Naruto new foods just to see how he reacts to them, what he likes, doesn't like, the faces he makes as he considers it. Naruto thinks it's a bit weird that Shikamaru wants him to describe what the food tastes like to him out loud, but he does his best to explain anyway.
-Shikamaru buys him new clothes in a million different colors too, all to see what Naruto looks like in them, what he thinks of the fabric, how they flow on his body when he moves. He has Naruto describe that too.
-Naruto never even really asks why. Just kind of squints at him and is like "well, if you insist. Anyway so these shorts like—"
-It helps that Naruto can talk for hours upon hours nonstop. Shikamaru wants to hear everything he has to say, no matter how mundane. Anything Naruto wants to jabber on about, Shikamaru is right there ready to absorb every word.
-Naruto going about his life while Shikamaru is just there, shadowing him every step of the way and watching his every move.
-Naruto's friends listening to Naruto talk while Shikamaru casually pokes, prods, tugs at him, runs his hands through his hair, etc: 🧍
-And Naruto is just like "Oh, don't worry! He's just putting his hands on either side of my neck so he can feel the way it flexes when I pronounce words!"
-Like... baby, that's freak behavior.
-Naruto thinking this is normal best friend behavior because he has absolutely no good frame of reference for what a best friend is aside from Sasuke, who he now admits is a pretty shit example.
-It doesn't help that Naruto is like "isn't that a little weird?" and Shikamaru just straight up lies and is like "Nah, all really good friends do this."
-If Naruto needs something, Shikamaru already has it. He's so in tune with Naruto that he can just predict and tell.
-A few people ask Shikamaru's parents if they're concerned but they just shrug it off like ah, Nara Fixation. What can you do?
-Shikamaru is always wary of taking it too far but also, in his head he and Naruto are already married.
-Basically just Shikamaru being weirdly obsessive, borderline stalkerish (but with boundaries?), and wanting that cookie. Thank you for coming to my TED talk 💖
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