#oh cds my beloved....

[arielluva]

the cd burner i ordered arrives tomorrow!!! (technically today) ooh ill finally to burn a cd!!! my parents always did it for me but now i finally can yippee

my utena cds reawakened my love for cds after like 3 years of barely using them... it feels like im returning home from the war (spotify) to my beautiful wife (physical media)

[n0bluev]

@fushiglow hmm….wonder who i’d draw this for all of a sudden and why… 🤔🤔

[abba-enthusiast]

Song of the century tbh

[rose-n-gunses]

ROUGH CUTT'S ALBUMS REMOVED FROM SPOTIFY?? MY DISAPPOINTMENT IS IMMEASURABLE AND MY LIFE IS RUINED

[clouds-of-wings]

Agnes decimates the Antichrist. Photo from here

[w4rw0rnl1pstick]

sometimes I really just rawdog my music experience because I will purchase entire cds of albums I've only heard a song or two off of

[iamthemovie]

also i’m going to the record store tomorrow. will update you all on what items i purchase

[tsukimefuku]

3rd of july ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆.˚ nanami kento

piece written in collaboration with my beloved friend and one of my favorite people, @rahuratna, for nanami's (a.k.a. internet's collective husbando) birthday. 💜🧡 content warning: fluff/comedy/sugestiveness word count: 1k

Nanami wasn't one to make big celebrations on his birthday. Up until he met you, he'd usually go about his work day quietly, saving up a few extra hours to simply go bowling or visit his favorite restaurants for dinner.

After you both started dating, not much had changed. You'd simply tag along for whatever he had planned, and would usually surprise him with something by the time you both got home - a box of dark chocolate, a new set of lingerie, a nice warm scented bath, a new CD album he had been looking for.

This time, however, you decided to push your luck on teasing the poor man.

On his birthday, of all days.

"Kento, how do you feel about surprise parties?" you ask, hiding the smile pulled on your cheeks behind your tea cup.

On the couch by your side, you could feel Nanami holding the urge to flinch the moment you were finished speaking.

"They are not my favorite," he answers in earnest.

"Seriously?" you inquire with a faux disheartened look.

"Yes," Nanami replies, with a tinge of concern to his voice.

"That is... unfortunate, then," you ensue, putting your tea on the coffee table and pulling your robe tighter around your body.

His Adam's apple bobs as he silently gulps.

"Why?"

"Well, my plan was to surprise you when you got home, but I figured you wouldn't want to get instantly jumped. So I told them to wait in the room," you finally say, with a grave finality, pointing to the closed bedroom door.

Truth is, he has no clue what you are really up to.

"Darling…" Nanami sighs, ever so patiently, "I thought it would just be the both of us unwinding, like the past years."

"I… I'm sorry, I really wanted to surprise you with something different this time."

You do sound regretful, and he plants a soft kiss on your cheek in response. Even now, he doesn't quite find it in himself to be annoyed at you, even if the prospect of Gojo lurking around his bedroom is enough to send disgusted shivers down his spine.

"It's… fine. Let's get this over with at once, and then have the house to ourselves."

"Are you sure? I could always go in there and tell them to-"

"No," he counters firmly. "You've arranged something a little different this year, and I'm going to appreciate it."

"Come on, then."

As perceptive as he is, Nanami doesn't notice the mischievous smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. Naturally, since you have successfully planted a seed in his mind, a terrifying image of his pristine suits being tried on by students and his custom made bowling ball being transformed into a disco light by the white-haired menace he calls a colleague.

When you reach the door and step aside for him, he visibly braces himself, fingers almost straightening a phantom tie at his throat.

"Sweetheart, I need to go and fetch a scarf. It's a little chilly in here."

Bless his heart. He's actually playing along.

You raise your voice.

"Oh, I left the blue one on the top shelf. Your closet."

"Right."

Nanami heads in with the air of a man charging from the trenches to face a volley of cannon fire. He stops dead in his tracks, eyes taking in the room.

It is empty of people, for starters.

The comforter on the bed has been pulled back, the white sheets scattered with rose petals. Candles have been placed strategically on the bedside table and vanity, emitting the subtle scent of the ocean. On a corner of the bed, a few ribbon-wrapped gifts await; a small stack of books and a box of his favourite dark chocolate with orange.

You saunter in behind him and he turns to you with a look that is both a solemn reprimand and a loving promise of a punishment you may appreciate later.

"Hmm. It's awfully crowded in here, my dear."

"Well, the rose petals were quite chatty, Kento. They've taken up all the space on our bed."

"They have indeed, you little-"

You laugh as you slip out of his reach, standing coyly in the doorway.

"Have a look at your gifts first."

He narrows his eyes, but approaches the bed, fingers unraveling the ribbon that holds the books together.

"What do we have here? 'The Master and Margarita.' Ah, wonderful. 'Bowling your way home: A salaryman's escape from bondage.'"

He pauses and raises an eyebrow and you gesture airily for him to keep going.

"Fine. What's this one? The-"

His voice cuts off abruptly.

"Kento? Are you all right?"

Very slowly, he turns to you.

"You got me the Kama Sutra?"

"I figured it would make a nice addition to your collection. I may even borrow it, from time to time."

You approach him now, casually opening the book to where you've placed a strategic leather marker within the section on sex positions.

"Since it's your birthday, maybe you'd like to start with the Virsha here?"

He considers the page seriously, before taking the book from you and flipping through it.

"I'm not sure, darling. You've put in enough effort setting all of this up."

Handing it back to you, he watches the flush that spreads upwards, across your neck as you are presented with the Indrani pose he has chosen instead.

"How about you let me do the work from here on out?"

"Well... "

"No, I insist."

His voice has that special intonation now, the husky rumble of desire, the inflection of hushed intimacy, the promise of that playful nature that only reveals itself when you're entangled in the sheets together.

You lay the book down, open to the very instructive illustration.

"In that case, let me present you with my last gift."

"There's another?"

Wordlessly, the robe you've been so studiously arranging around yourself slides to the floor. His kindling gaze takes in the sheer, violet lace, the tiny flowers embroidered strategically over the parts of you that he will discover at leisure.

***

Later, when the gossamer material lies discarded on the floor, when his exhausted limbs entwine with your own, when his golden hair runs like silk between your fingers, you speak into the hush of the bedroom.

"Happy birthday, my love."

His voice is muffled from where his face is pressed against your stomach.

"That was quite the surprise party."

"Maybe we should have one every year."

He snorts indignantly, but his lips curve in a smile against your skin all the same.

[sonata-stigmata]

the first cds you ever bought for yourself can be something that is so personal actually

[evanpetersmybf]

Be mine?

Tate Langdon x female!reader

Summary: Meeting you was his destiny. He had to make you his so he could feel alive... It was meant to be.

Genre: Smut.

Word count: 3,172

Warnings: Virgin and inexperienced reader, mentions of bullying, self-harm (just once and is nothing detailed), obsessive and stalkish behavior, swearing, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected p in v and cumshot.

A/N: English isn't my first language and this is my first time writing smut, so sorry if it sucks or if I have grammatical mistakes or something TT. Btw, also sorry if Tate's out of character. Anyways, hope you enjoy it!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ཐི ♡ ཋྀ

Tate had another bad day. It was the usual. Bullying, failed tests, the teacher humiliating him after he couldn’t solve a simple equation on the chalkboard, his mother scolding him. Nothing seemed new, and it seemed that nothing wasn’t going to change at any point.

He needed something, a reason to live, something to make him feel alive. Because he was dead. Dead in life, which in his own opinion, was even worse than being a rotten corpse.

He headed to the music store after secretly stealing some of his mom’s money, just a few bucks; the enough amount to buy a vinyl or some CD’s. Tate was sort of a music elitist, always believing that the artists nowadays just created pure, hollow, and trashy songs. In fact, he didn’t believe those could even be considered music.

Walking around the nearly empty store, rummaging through the shelves filled with Nirvana vinyl’s, someone bumped into him.

“Oh, sorry.” You spoke, after accidentally taking too many steps back and bumping into Tate’s behinds.

He frowned, somewhat annoyed at you for disturbing his moment of peace. The blonde turned around to look at who it was, scanning your body from head to toe, taking note of your appearance. Then, his dark eyes drifted to the sign that was on top the shelf, which indicated the musical genre of the records that were on that rack. Alternative pop. His gaze went to the album you were hugging to yourself.

“Cry Baby? What type of crap is that?”

“Huh, excuse me?”

“Never mind, you won’t understand.” Tate talked in such a volatile and rude manner, already feeling superior because of his likes.

You arched an eyebrow. What was his problem? You did nothing to him and yet he was here, judging your amazing music taste.

“Well, people’s free to like whatever they want to, hmm?”

“Uh, yeah, but what’s the point of that if everything is so generic?”

“Have you ever listened to Melanie Martinez at least once?”

He shook his head no, still scowling, now fidgeting with a ring that was on one of his fingers.

“Have you listened to Nirvana?”

“Just like… Two songs?”

“Don’t tell me. Smells Like Teen Spirit?”

“Guilty.”

Tate rolled his eyes. What was going on with this generation? What happened to good music, to the greatest artists? Why was everyone just listening to trash?

After sharing your names and a few more words, debating about who was right and who wasn’t, you placed one of your hands over his right shoulder, as an attempt to stop his rant of how superior he was. And indeed, it worked. The teen stopped venting and stared at you, all confused and a bit uncomfortable. You noticed it and quickly stepped back, apologizing for touching him without permission. He told you it was okay, that you just surprised him. But deep down, that simple yet complex touch meant a lot to Tate, even if it was absolutely nothing to you.

For the first time he felt something more than sorrow.

“So… What do you think of this? I’ll make you listen to some songs by Melanie and other artists, and I’ll listen to your beloved beautiful grunge music.” You said those last words in a mocking way.

Tate huffed, clearly offended by the way you referred to his taste. Nevertheless, in the end he agreed with you.

After paying the stuff you two picked, both of you went to Tate’s place. As you walked next to him, your fingers brushed his, making his cheeks turn a light shade of red and his heart flutter. He felt dizzy, not sure about what was going on.

In his house, he took you to his room. The boy didn’t want his mother to see you, otherwise she’d be too nosy and probably scare you and push you away from him, and that was the last thing he wanted.

“Get comfy.” He mused, extending his hand as if inviting you to take a seat wherever you feel to.

“Thanks.” You sat on the floor, using one of the sides of the bed as a support for your back. He did the same and sat right next to you.

He was nervous. So damn nervous and excited. He brought a pretty chick to his place. The Tate Langdon, the outcast, the bullied, that Tate Langdon was in the same room with a girl? He couldn’t believe it.

“Ladies first.” Tate pointed the record-player with his thumb, and you obeyed, placing the CD in it. The music started playing.

“We could’ve used Spotify, y’know?”

“Nah, I don’t like it. I prefer the old school.”

‘Cry Baby’ was the first track that was listened to.

He squinted his eyes and rubbed his chin, analyzing the sounds, the melody, the harmony and of course the lyrics.

Although it wasn’t his style, you definitely were. The way you looked, talked, walked. How you stood up for your beliefs and didn’t allow him to step on you (even if you just discussed about music). It was new for him. He craved your independence. He craved you.

That was the very moment when he realized that you were the thing he was looking for all his life. You were the one who was meant to be his, he was meant to be yours. It was destiny. Tate truly believed it was some kind of divine prophecy, and he wasn’t going to let you go.

He was so immersed in his mind that he didn’t pay attention to the song anymore. He was solely focused on you, remembering how warm and kind your touch was, how sweet your voice was. ‘Oh, she’s mine’, he thought.

“So… That was the first track. Its name’s Cry Baby. Did you like it?”

Tate snapped out of it and bit his bottom lip. He didn’t listen to your question.

“I’m sorry, what did you?—”

“Did you like the song?”

“Ah, yeah yeah. It’s quite… Innovative. I’ve never heard something like that.”

You smiled and clapped your hands. “Of course! She���s such a genius. Let’s finish the album, hm?”

He just nodded, as a little smirk appeared on his face.

The days flew by, and Tate asked you out on many friendly dates. Or at least that’s what you thought because you were so oblivious at the fact that he had a fat crush on you.

With every hang out, you noticed that Tate was lonely. Like, really lonely. Maybe that’s why he was so clingy with you.

He told you about his family, about how annoying Constance was, about his siblings and about how his father left him behind. He also mentioned the bullying he suffered and almost talked about the self-harm but stopped himself.

Both of you grew closer, as his obsession.

Since you went to a different school, he would skip class and infiltrate your campus just to see you. He couldn’t stand being away from you. And if he did, his mind was full of you, thinking of you all day, unable to focus on his homework and tests. Tate didn’t care anymore if he failed subjects, as long as you were next to him, he was happy and alive.

The void he once felt, was now fulfilled with your mere presence. You could step on him, and he would thank you. In his twisted little mind, you were free to have everything of him.

He was willing to do anything to keep you by his side. The thought of losing was so terrifying that it would make him throw up.

Tate learned every single detail about you. Your mannerisms, your likes and dislikes, your dreams, and your fears. Everything. And that includes your schedule since you wake up, and since you go to sleep.

That was his definition of love. No one ever taught him about how to express it, and he ended up being the way he was with you.

One day he invited you over to his place. The Langdon's house was empty, and he was going to take advantage of it. No doubt.

“Your mom isn’t home?” You questioned as you followed him behind, going upstairs straight to his bedroom. Little did you know this wasn’t going to be another afternoon of playing board games while listening to some music.

“Nah, dunno where she went but she won’t be back any time soon.” He shrugged and let you inside of his private space,

You went to lay down on bed, feeling relief in your aching back after a long day at school. “Damn, I need some rest!”

Tate chuckled softly and sat on the edge, looking at you as you closed your eyes and tried to relax. He was focused on your steady and calm breathing, on how your breasts went up and down with every inhalation and exhalation. His eyes stared at your lips, at how kissable they looked. He felt a sudden desire, the intense urge to make you his. Feeling conflicted, he shook his head and tried to distract himself, pretending to ignore how aroused he was getting.

He wasn’t going to say it out loud, but of course he already had some wet dreams of you. He imagined you beneath him, your precious body shivering and responding to his touch, to his kisses. Your cunt wet and ready for him, just how he wanted to.

“Y/N…” Tate cooed, unable to hold back any longer.

“Yeah?” You opened one of your eyes and spotted him, sitting on the bed with his fists clenched over his thighs, while his breathing looked kinda rapid. “You ‘kay?”

“No.”

“Uh? What’s wrong?” You reincorporated and sat straight beside his warm figure. Your right hand touched his left, rubbing it up and down with your thumb.

Tate shoved you to the bed, pinning your arms above your head and holding them tight.

His breathing pattern was no longer normal. It was a heavy one.

His dark brown eyes locked with yours. Your orbs were wide, not understanding what the hell was going on. Or maybe you did but were in denial.

“Please. I want you.” He purred, seeing you with puppy eyes, the ones he knew you couldn’t resist.

“Hahah, you funny.”

He let out a frustrated whine, almost begging on his knees for you to get the hint.

“I’m not kidding. Pretty please. I need you.”

“Do you mean…?” You raised your head a few centimeters to look at his crotch in order to confirm your suspicions. Your cheeks had a cute blush as soon as you noticed Tate’s erection restrained by his jeans. It looked painful, and it actually was.

“Yes. I want to. Please, I truly need it. Please, please, please?” His voice was shaky and low, a needy desperate whisper. “Can I?”

This wasn’t what you expected for today. You saw Tate as a best friend, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome… And that he already provoked butterflies in your stomach before.

Hesitantly, you gave a shy nod with your head, giving him consent to continue. “But Tate… I’ve never done this before, I dunno what to do, I—” You trailed off, being cut off mid-sentence when Tate placed his lips over yours. The kiss was slow and tender, not rough at all. Your bottom lip was between his, as he nibbled it with extreme care to not hurt you.

After some seconds, he pulled apart and led his hand towards the side of your face, brushing some hairs away. “Don’t ya worry, princess. Leave it all to me, hm? I’ll be gentle. Unless you don’t want me to.” With that being said, he leaned into your neck, pressing his mouth on your sensitive flesh. He left sweet kisses, making you hum as you melted under him.

His lips continued to tease your skin, leaving some little bites between every kiss, trailing down to your collarbone. Tate stopped there and helped you get rid of your blouse, tossing it aside and continued his journey, this time kissing your sternum while his right hand cupped one of your breasts, kneading it gently over the fabric of your bra. He pulled down the straps and took off the piece of lingerie, setting your tits free.

The cold air hit you and your nipples perked up, looking ravishing and making him desire you even more.

He introduced one of the hardened buds into his warm mouth, sucking it greedily and making lewd wet sounds as he did so. His left rubbed the other nipple in circles, taking it with his thumb and index, pulling it and pinching it.

“Hmph… Huh…” You let out soft whimpers, slightly arching your back meanwhile he abused your breasts.

Tate stopped after some minutes, letting go of your nipple and looking at you, grabbing your chin and tilting your head to the side. He approached your ear and whispered, “You like this?”

“Yes…” You begged. Your voice was already ragged and shaky.

Instinctively, you pressed your thighs together, rubbing them as a pathetic try to feel some relief. Tate realized it and spread your legs with one of his hands. He took his digits right to your clothed pussy, eagerly rubbing the spot where your clit was.

“Someone’s already wet? Cute.” He giggled and took off his striped sweater, throwing it away. He positioned himself between your limbs and pulled down your pants, mesmerized as he saw your damp panties. Tate continued rubbing your bundle of nerves over the fabric of your underwear, still fascinated at how humid you were.

This was the moment he had been waiting for the past weeks. He wasn’t going to need to jerk off to your photos anymore, because now he would be able to jerk off to your tits in person.

Tate removed the last barrier that was stopping him from touching your womanhood directly. He pulled them down to your ankles and you helped him to get rid of it by shaking your feet.

He got closer to your cunt and placed your legs over his shoulder, spreading your folds with two of his large digits, blowing some air at the sensitive meat. Finally, he started sucking on your swollen clitoris, enjoying the feeling of your dampness against his face.

“Mmh…” He moaned, still toying with the nub. You grabbed him by the hair, not thinking about what you were doing. You just let yourself go and pulled him closer to your pussy, wanting to feel more. Your body twitched, unconsciously bucking your hips against his mouth that was currently making slurping sounds.

His attention changed and was now on your slit, teasing just the entrance with his hot tongue, while his nose rubbed against your clit. He lapped your pretty cunt, savoring your juices as if they were a delicacy.

Looking at your adorable face contorting in pleasure, he introduced his ring finger into your wet, tight hole. It was a slow and kind movement because the last thing he wanted was to hurt you. He slipped it deeper, pumping it in and out with care, increasing speed after a few seconds once he saw you comfortable. “Tell me if it hurts…”

“Mhm… It feels nice. Huh…” Your melodic whimpers and moans were just too much for him. He could listen to you for the rest of his days and never get tired of you.

Without further ado, he introduced his middle finger, now finger-fucking you with two. Tate’s thumb was also working wonders on your lil’ bundle of nerves in circular motion.

She was clenching around Tate’s large fingers, that he curled inside of her, hitting the right spot to make you squirm and feel a new and foreign sensation in your lower belly.

“Fuck it, I can’t wait anymore.”

He undid his belt, unzipped his pants and pulled down his boxers, quickly getting rid of them and letting them fall to the wooden floor.

You just stared in awe; it was the first time you saw one in real life.

Tate grabbed his hardened cock and stroked it a few times on top of you, finding amusing your silly reaction. The reddish tip was glistening with pre-cum, which he used as lube. He spat at your pussy and rubbed his slick saliva with two digits, before finally thrusting his dick.

He did it slowly, beginning with the head. Eventually, he pushed his entire length, hitting your cervix and stretching you out for the first time.

“Fuck, you’re so tight!” Even if he was taking the lead, he was a whiny mess, vocal and loud.

He continued pounding into you, his gaze never leaving your face. Tate loved how you rolled your eyes to the back of your head and how your little mouth was letting out such nasty sounds.

The room was filled with slapping and wet sounds, created by his skin slapping against yours, his balls always hitting you with every stab. Again, he placed your legs on his wide shoulders to have a better angle and pump into you deeper than before.

His big veiny hands were roaming all over your body, specifically your breasts. Within minutes, he developed an addiction to them. Probably because of his mommy issues? He grabbed them roughly, tweaking both of your nipples as he fucked you mercilessly.

Tate lolled his head as he felt your hole gripping him tight. Very tight.

He increased the pace and moaned your name, begging you to squeeze him tighter.

“Oh, please, please, please!” The blonde kept whining. He left one of his hands taking care of your nipples, while the other went back to torture your clit. He stroked it in circles, and then up and down, applying the enough amount of pressure to make you beg for more.

“Tate, I feel like I’m—”

“It’s okay, let it go, mhm?”

You couldn’t hold yourself any longer and squirted all over him, coating his lower body with your warm fluids.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, gonna cum!” Tate pulled out from your cunt and pumped his cock with his hand finishing with a loud moan. His hot sticky white cum coated your breasts and abdomen, creating an incredible sight that he always imagined.

All spent, Tate threw himself next to you on the bed, pulling a blanket to cover both of you as he filled your pretty face in candy pecks.

“Did it hurt? First time usually does.” He looked at you, concerned for your wellbeing. “I was too rough?”

You laughed and shook your head no, caressing his messy locks with your fingers, tenderly scratching his scalp. “Don’t worry, I’m fine, really.”

Tate smiled at you and kissed you on the lips, “You’re so pretty, Y/N.”

You hugged him from behind, him being the little spoon this time. Your mind was going wild; you were still processing what happened and was about to drift to sleep when he whispered.

“Y/N…?”

“Mh, what is it, Tate?”

“I love you… Please be mine?”

[nostalgicfun]

oh, physical media my beloved...media I can hold in my hands my beloved...VHS tapes, CDs, books, cassettes...DVDS even, if you will

[crappymixtape]

steve harrington • requests // asks

( ANY REQUESTS AND ASKS FOR ALL CELEBRATIONS, SEASONAL THEMES, AND ONE-OFF INBOXES I GET, STEVE x YOU // mature content marked appropriately )

🔥 BECAUSE OF YOU, SERIES ( 500 FOLLOWER REQUEST )

main fic -> ( part 1 ) ( part 2 ) ( part 3 ) ( part 4 ) ( part 5 ) bonus parts -> ( baby let me in ) ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+ | ( 3.1k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )

👯 1000 FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION

"play it cool" – 1000 CELEBRATION REQUEST, requesting the cd because i think i need to explore more music and this seems like a good way to do that! | ( song x blurb with steve harrington x reader – this one is a lil fluffy, a lil flirty, a lil fun – recommended to listen to your song while reading! )

"don't go dark again" – 1000 CELEBRATION REQUEST, oh baby, you know I gotta ask for a song for my beloved, steve | ( song x blurb with steve harrington x reader – this just leaned real angsty, hurt / comfort for a monday morning – recommended to listen to your song while reading! )

"honey, i've got it bad for you" – 1000 CELEBRATION REQUEST, can i pls request a love note from steve <3 as for mood anything a little lovelorn and fluffy will do | ( love note steve harrington x reader, little fluffy, little lovesick, lots of sweet )

🎄 A VERY MERRY MIXTAPE – WINTER THEMED ASKS

"very merry mixtape" winter!theme REQUESTS are nested under the series / multi-part master list post *18+

👯 500 FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION

"don't make me say it" – 500 CELEBRATION REQUEST, you make me want things I can’t have prompt | ( 2k – mostly angst, dumb boi steve, and a little fluff right at the end to take you home, steve x reader )

"i hate you ( not )" – 500 CELEBRATION REQUEST, love a good enemies to lovers smutty fic – anything works, just lots of sarcasm and name calling to build up the tension • *18+  | ( 3.6k – a nice lil mountain of angst that rolls down into a big ol’ valley of smut, steve x reader )

"good love makes you hesitate" – 500 CELEBRATION REQUEST, don’t do this here prompt | ( 2.2k – all of the angst, tiny bit of fluff, best friends to lovers, steve x bff!reader )

💌 CRAPPYMIXTAPE INBOX ASKS

"you gotta help me, baby" – REQUEST -> fluffy one about you having a summer job babysitting and Steve always coming over to keep you company...idc just Steve being a massive simp as always | (  2.3k, modern!day au, fluff, established relationship, steve x you, steve x reader )

"shut up and kiss me" – REQUEST -> fluff prompt #25 "shut up and kiss me” • you get laid off and go back to hawkins for the weekend to wallow with your friends and the gang seizes the opportunity to try and get you two dummies to figure it out | ( 5.7k – fluff, a little angst, mostly fluff, friends to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

"smoke and glitter" – REQUEST -> robin's been begging you to throw a party down yb the lake on your uncle's farm, like on another level, so you finally give in and who does she drag along? some co-worker from the mall and he's a total dork...right? | ( 2k, fluff, friends to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

💌 MOOD BOARD x SONGS ASKS

"idiots -> lovers" steve harrington x you, idiots / enemies to lovers

"valentine's day" steve harrington x you, soft / intimate *18+

"best friends -> lovers" steve harrington x you, bffs to lovers

"enemies -> lovers" steve harrington x you, enemies to lovers at work *18+

[otomehonyaku]

Diabolik Lovers Daylight Vol. 7 Ruki ☽ Animate Tokuten Drama CD ☽ Sleeping Together ★ With Vampire

Original title: 添い寝でおやすみ ★ ヴアンパイア Voiced by Sakurai Takahiro English translation by @otomehonyaku Click here for the audio, provided by @karleksmumskladdkaka!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I figured it would be fun to try out a drama CD translation for once, and this was a nice short (but sweet) one! I have another tokuten audio + translation hopefully coming soon... Stay tuned ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

Please do not reuse or post my translations elsewhere or translate my work into other languages without my permission.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

00:00 Hey, Livestock. What are you doing? That’s an awfully big box you’re holding.

[You’re glad to see him.]

You were looking for me? Why?

[You explain the situation.]

So Kou told you to give this box to me. I don’t remember sending him on an errand, though.

[You pass on Kou’s message to Ruki.]

“Just open it and have fun”? That sounds a lot like him, but he must be up to no good…  We should ask him what’s in the box first…

[You say you couldn’t find Kou anywhere.]

Ah, right, he said he had a film shoot today…  Oh, well. If the sender’s not here, we have no choice but to open it. Give me the box, Livestock. I was going to open it in my room, but if you’re curious what’s inside too, then come with me.

[You nod.]

Let’s go, then.

[The two of you go to his room.]

01:20 Sit over there.

[Ruki puts the box in front of you.]

Well, then. Let’s open it right away. For such a big box, it’s not very heavy. What could be inside? Wooden pieces of various sizes… and a lot of them, at that.  They look like they’re parts of something.

[You spot a letter inside the box.]

A letter? Kou must have put it in there. Let’s see.  “Here’s one of your beloved puzzles as a present. Have fun! Try assembling it together with her.” I see. So it’s a puzzle.

[You’re confused.]

Yeah, it looks different than a normal, flat puzzle.  Judging from the parts, the finished product must be three-dimensional. There’s no manual, either, but I wonder if it’s because Kou removed it, or there was no manual to begin with… Anyway, this may be just another of Kou’s whims, but we have the time.  Maybe I should assemble it.

[You say that you want to help.]

It does not look like I would need your help with it, but Kou said to do it together, so… If you’d like, you are welcome to try.

[The two of you start assembling the puzzle.]

03:03 Hm. My side looks like it’s coming together. How about yours?

[You tell him.]

Let me see it.

[You show him what you’ve got.]

That looks better than I expected.  If you’re worried about this part, I think it might fit here…

[Ruki helps you.]

You should try doing the rest yourself.

[You ask him whether he’s done this before.]

Not exactly. I have done a variety of 3D puzzles before, but this is the first time I’ve tried this type of puzzle. Not that I’m very particular about my puzzles, though…

[You ask him if he has a particular strategy.]

I have my strategies for each kind, but in the end, the process of putting parts together and aiming for the final product is the same for every puzzle.

[You say you have no idea what the puzzle is meant to look like.]

Right. I cannot picture what the final product is going to look like just yet, but if we just look at the parts even though we have no idea what to expect…

[You tell him that you should both try your best.]

04:20 Yeah.

[To himself] It would be a shame to spoil her fun by telling her the answer to the puzzle, but…

[You ask him if he said something.]

No, nothing. Besides, we won’t finish the puzzle at this pace. Less talking, more working.

[You agree enthusiastically.]

Heh. You’re curious about the final product, right? 

The harder you work, the sooner you’ll find out what it is.

[You tell him you’ll work harder.]

Yes, you should. I will try to increase my pace, too.

05:06 Ah, it’s finished. When I opened the box and saw the parts, I already had a hunch, but… It looks like a small castle you might find overseas. I think we happened to see it on TV around the time when Kou was featured on a programme.  He must have remembered that you and I talked about wanting to go and see it in person. That must also be why he told us in the letter that we should assemble it together. Whatever his reason was… heh. He probably wanted to make us happy.

[Ruki incorporates your part into the puzzle.]

Look, your work is now part of the castle, too. You did really well considering you had no idea what it was.

[You don’t respond.]

You were so excited to see the final product, but your response is a bit underwhelming, don’t you think?

[Ruki looks down at you, leaning against his shoulder and sleeping soundly.]

06:05 Heh, I see.  You have some nerve using someone’s shoulder as a pillow while you sleep, Livestock. Oh, well. It’s past your usual bedtime, so it’s fine. I must have been engrossed in the puzzle as well for me not to notice you nodding off.

[Ruki picks you up, bridal style.]

However, if you sleep here, you’ll regret it later. You should just sleep on the bed.

[He carries you to his bed.]

You should have just told me you were tired… You worked hard and stayed up just to finish the puzzle with me. You didn’t make it to the end, though…

07:05

[Ruki looks at his watch.]

It’s about time. I should tidy up and head to bed, too.

[Ruki walks back to the table.]

I should hide the puzzle under the table for now.  I want her to see it tomorrow. I wonder how she’ll react.

[Ruki walks back to the bed.]

Hey, Livestock. Move over a bit. I want to get under the covers too. She’s so far gone she doesn’t even hear me… 

[Ruki gets in bed anyway and squeezes himself beside you.]

What a foolish face. You must be tired from using your head so much.

[Ruki touches you.]

I wonder what kind of face you’ll make when you wake up tomorrow. Will you feel guilty for falling asleep before seeing the finished puzzle?  Or will you become shy when you wake up next to me? Anything is fine.  Your reactions are always something to look forward to. Ah, but when you see the finished puzzle, you’ll probably be ecstatic. You were looking forward to seeing it so much, after all. I want to see your happy face. I was having such a good time, uncharacteristically so. I might not be able to fall asleep like this. I’ll have to thank Kou later.

08:45 For tomorrow’s dinner, I’ll make him something he likes.

[You shift in your sleep.]

What, the mention of dinner does evoke a reaction from you? What a greedy little thing. Don’t worry. I’ll cook one of your favourites, too. You worked hard on the puzzle, after all. 

[Ruki settles in for sleep.]

I’m looking forward to seeing your reaction tomorrow.

[kairiscorner]

hellooo,musta po kayo??. is it ok if you could right one of those Filipino!reader but hobie? if you can,,, thank youu!!

HI ANON, OKAY LANG PO, SANA OKAY LANG PO RIN KAYO /pos :>> MAAAAAAN YES, PLEASE, hobie would be the nightmare of all conservative filo parents frfr YES LET'S DO THIS 🫂🫂🫂

hobie brown x filipino reader

ngl, i think he'd intimidate a lot of your family members into silence if you bring him over to family dinners or get-togethers LMAO. like just seeing this tall boy with a bunch of piercings and unconventional clothing for guys his age would, yes, earn him a lot of stares, but he'd also kind of intimidate those tryhard male cousins you might have (you know the type, the wanna get jowas and emo sadboys ueueue).

despite how hobie looks like, he's actually super friendly to all your relatives, he doesn't judge by how they look, in fact he doesn't judge, he observes and bases his opinions of them from there. he always has something nice to say to your relatives, even if they might have a lot of criticisms to say about him.

that's the other reason you got together with him, actually. even if you have a lot of negative things to say or think about yourself, or internalized bad thoughts about who you are or look like from your family or peers, he always has kinder words that you deserve to hear and will consistently inconsistently (through other words, actions, and gifts) remind you of who you, the amazingly wonderful individual who came into his life, really are all the time.

i think he'd also be a wonderful cook. if you were assigned to take care of cooking for your family, he'd wordlessly just saunter over to you by the kitchen, lean against the door frame of the kitchen like the rizz master that he is, raise his eyebrows, smirk, and ask you, "need any help, mahal ko?"

if you say yes, he'd get right to work, doing what you ask of him in the most unconventional ways possible. he'd chop vegetables and meat so freaking fast man, and in SUCH NEAT SLICES. if he were on rice cooking duty, he'd probably make rice with the kawali in the traditional way because he doesn't believe in rice cookers when he has two functional and capable hands, a kawali, a fire, and you to watch over him. and surprisingly, the rice he makes is FUCKING AMAZING, IT HAS FLAVOR?????? A REALLY GOOD ASS FLAVOR????? LIKE YEAH???????

after dinner, he'd do the cleaning up with you, even if your parents will insist upon him not to do anything because he's a guest.

"pasensya na po, tito at tita, pero hindi po ako naniniwala na porket ako'y isang bisita, i'll be leaving all the work to my beloved. cheers."

he'd be fluent in tagalog or your local dialect, and when he talks to you, he loves switching up his accent from the dialect you speak to speaking in a cockney accent in fluent british english chockful of slang.

OH AND IF YOU HAVE LOUD ASS NEIGHBORS WHO SING KARAOKE EVERY NIGHT, MOFO WOULD GET THE HELL UP, HOOK UP HIS ELECTRIC GUITAR, AND AS MUCH AS YOU TRY TO DISCOURAGE HIM, HE'LL JAM THE FUCK OUT AT THEM TO RETALIATE TOWARDS THEIR LOUD KARAOKE SESSIONS LMAO

he also lives, breathes, and is lato-latoing. like when he caught you playing with the toy, he got interested and made one for himself. it's much louder than the plastic lato-latos being sold, so it makes a lot of racket. he plays it in the spider society HQ when things are too quiet or boring, he just whips it out and brags about how you're the real lato-lato master, not him.

he lato-latos when miguel is chewing out the members of the spider society after a bad mission or someone did something to piss him off. OR EVEN WHEN MIGUEL'S JUST ANNOUNCING SOMETHING OR ISN'T EVEN DOING ANYTHING, AS LONG AS MIGUEL IS THERE, HOBIE WILL LATO-LATO, THAT IS HIS ROUTINE (of inconsistency).

he loves opm rock bands. he listens to eraserheads, itchyworms, AND ASIN. BRO, HE'D COLLECT ASIN CDS AND LISTEN TO THEM WITH YOUUUUUU.

you'd tell him he could just listen to them on spotify or youtube, but he says, "nahhh, i don't believe in spotify or youtube," and just listen to music with you, one earphone in the other's ear as he holds you close :>>>

HE LISTENED TO LIGAYA BY ERASERHEADS, AND WHEN YOU CAME INTO THE ROOM AS HE WAS BLASTING IT, HE TOOK YOU BY THE HAND AND STARTED DANCING TO YOU AND SINGING ALONG TO THE LYRICS <333

he isn't really very big on tradition, but if you wanted, he'd bust out his skills at the acoustic guitar and in a good old fashioned loverboy manner, HARANA YOU TO FALL IN LOVE WITH HIM ALL OVER AGAIN <333

he has tried jollibee before per your request, and he liked it, but he made his own twist on it from food he's scrapped together that jollibee makes, and THUS HE SERVES YOU JOLLHOBIE. it tastes so good man fr, i'm a living witness.

i think the filipino foods he'd like a whole lot would be pork liempo, taho, leche flan, and halo-halo (the different kinds of ingredients in the halo-halo really makes me think of hobie bc of how versatile that dude is). but tbh, he doesn't really claim to have a favorite food, he just loves all the food you have to offer him and make him. YOUR VERSIONS OF LOCAL PINOY FOOD ARE HEAVENSENT TO HIM, HE EATS THEM UP SO QUICKLY AND CRAVES FOR MORE <333

he's super inconsistent, so it's not a surprise he'd call you all kinds of nicknames ;> like earth 42 miles, HE'D CALL YOU NICKNAMES FROM OTHER DIALECTS BC HE THINKS NO SINGULAR NICKNAME IS ENOUGH TO EXPRESS HOW DEAR YOU ARE TO HIM <333

he'd use multiple nicknames in one sentence when talking to you. "mahal, wanna go out tonight, pangga?", "aking sinta, i'd like to some attention right now, beh," "ang sarap ng lahat ng niluluto mo, mahal ko, i can't get enough of it, iniirog ko"

also if you had younger siblings or cousins, HE'D BE THEIR NUMBER ONE FAVE BABYSITTER. he lets them get away with a lot of things, but he never, ever endangers them. he promotes their learning and good behavior, but he doesn't teach them blind obedience.

if your younger siblings or cousins did the mano po to him, he'd appreciate it, but would rather prefer to be casual around them. but if it's in the kid's nature to do mano po, he'd let them do it all the time, he really respects your culture and wants to let you know that he loves it as a part of you, too.

a/n: in short, ginoong hobart brown is a green flag po <333

tags !! @thecoolerdor @k4tsu3 @luvstarrstruck @ii01vq @maxoloqy @pixqlsin

[thepeebmaster]

Do you really think this is a normal Tuesday afternoon? No. We're going to right a wrong in this world. You, me, a few thousand random volunteers I've manipulated to follow me to the ends of the Earth. Where are we going? Netflix HQ. We're on a suicide mission, the random volunteers can and will suffocate the security guards with their bodies, what about the lazers? you ask, I answer. We bring AK-47s, a LOT of AK-47s. Except, uh oh! we don't know how to use a gun! Not to worry, I throw the bullets instead. The bullets don't hit the sensors, but the lazers go away anyways. But what about the motherboard? Not to worry, I've seen Cyberchase. I romance the motherboard, telling her that I'll convert to heterosexuality for her, a lie, but she'll fall for the large imprint in my pants, except, uh oh! it's store bought, I'm transgender. We get to the board room, the leader of the Netflix cult has a dark shadow over his face, he's been expecting us. "Don't tell me this is about Community. Do you think this would work? Others have tried before you, and they have fallen." I clench my butt cheeks in anxiety, we've been found out, guess we haven't been stealthy enough. But our mission isn't over, no, it's just begun. "What gives you the right to take beloved media off widely available streaming services?!" I shout, hands full of bullets just itching to be thrown. Nope, that itching is my balls. I won't let him know that though. The leader takes off his hood, cackling as he does so, revealing his shiny bald head. The dark shadow unveils dead looking eyes, we gasp, Jeff Bezos?! "Why don't you just buy it on Amazon Prime?" He cackles, thinking he's got us in a corner. I don't have a rebuttal, but I do have the power of breakdancing. I bust into my moves, spinning on my head on the comedically long table mr. Bezos was on the other side of. While he's distracted with my impeccable moves, I pull out a flame thrower. while I'm spinning it's hard to aim, but I use the glare from his shiny bald head to find him. After third degree burns on all of our parties, the battle is over. We've won. Bezos is gone. Except, I've been so wrapped up in the thrill of the mission I forgot our objective. Community still isn't on Netflix, what are we supposed to do? You come up with a great idea, we take a dvd case of all six seasons and walk back to the motherboard, I tell her I'm about to show her a good time, but really, I'm gonna shove the CDs into whatever opening I can find. It works, I give motherboard a juicy kiss, and we're out of there. We walk out of Netflix HQ with a smile on our face.

Mission Accomplished.

[lovelytsunoda]

gimme! gimme! gimme! ( a man after midnight ) // marcus armstrong

summary: after graduating college and moving back home to sebring, florida to live with her parents, y/n becomes infatuated with the young man from new zealand who just moved in across the street

pairing: marcus armstrong x female! reader

warnings: money troubles, moving back in with the parents and losing the independence that comes with being a college student living on your own, parental expectations, difficult sibling relationship, implied smut,

author's note: why did it take me this long to write for marcus my beloved? i also kind of hate the ending but i wasn't sure where to end it soooooo

the sebring sun beat down against the road, heat waves visibly radiating off the pavement as y/n turned down on to the street where she grew up.

a street she swore she'd never come back to, until she realized that she couldn't afford to live anywhere else.

her manicured fingers tapped against the steering wheel in rapid succession as the bass guitar thrumming from the asking alexandria album she was listening to completely shook the chassis of her pickup truck.

well, her dad's old pickup truck.

a new car wasn't an expense that she could afford while she was away at school. but she loved that old truck like her life depended on it, right down to the squishy silicone alien bobblehead that sat on the dashboard, the stack of cd's that rested in the center console, the truck itself too old for bluetooth.

she turned on to her interlock driveway, defeatedly parking the truck behind her mother's five year old mercedes. she had just bought that car when y/n went off to school.

the y/l/n's weren't poor by any means: they still had money for family vacations, renovations on the house, to send their daughter to university. but they lived within their means, which meant budgeting out what was necessary and important and what was not.

and sometimes that meant making sacrifices. like moving back with your parents and younger sister after finishing your higher education pathway.

now she had a diploma, but no job, no house, no boyfriend and no prospects.

she cut the engine, deciding that it was better just to rip the band aid off now as she leaped from the cab of the truck, grabbed her backpack from the back seat and began the walk of shame to the front door.

"hey, mom." she said with a small, sad smile as her mother opened the front door, engulfing her in a warm, motherly embrace that made the smile on y/n's face grow a little happier.

"welcome home, sweetheart. let me go find your father and we'll help you bring your things inside."

ten minutes later, the y/l/n family, with the exception of y/n's sister shiloh, who was nowhere to be found, stood on the driveway with a foldable wagon cart from costco, unloading cardboard boxes and massive plastic tupperware containers from the flatbed of the old ford truck.

as nice as it was to be home, she felt like she was losing her independence.

she stacked a cardboard box in the cart before pressing up on her tip toes and leaning back to stretch her arms and her back, limbs still stiff from the drive in from tampa.

she paused to take a look around the neighborhood, taking in how much it had all changed. house prices had skyrocketed in the last ten years, and now the houses in the area were almost triple the price that her father had paid in the early nineties when he first bought the house.

but what really stuck out to her was the bright red high end mercedes amg sports car that sat in the driveway of the house across the street. the house that once belonged to the nice old woman that babysat y/n and shiloh when they were kids.

"who bought the noonan house?"

her father stopped moving boxes to look over at the house across the street. "oh, his name is marcus. great young man, he's about your age."

"he's my age and he can afford a house, while i have to move back in with you lot? that's absolutely fucking great." y/n groaned, looking back at the house. "and that car is at least three times the cost of mom's, and that's without the upgrade package."

her dad shrugged. "If you had taken my advice and gone into trades, that could have been you, kiddo."

"oh, fuck off."

"hey, watch your language." her mom warned, taking a tupperware container up to the front door. "he's a sweet, hardworking young man."

"what does he do for work?"

"he works in the automotive industry."

"and that's why you like him so much." she sighed, grabbing the handle of the wagon and following her mother back up to the house.

her father had always had big expectations for her. cars were the family legacy: her father's father had been the groundskeeper at sebring international speedway. her father had worked the assembly line at chevrolet before retiring and opening his own garage where he restored custom cars as a side hustle. she had been expected to also go into the automotive trade, as the son her father never had.

but that hadn't been what she wanted, as much as she loved cars. she'd been watching endurance races at sebring since before she could walk, and she learned how to use a monkey wrench before she learned what a curling iron did. her real calling was business. the four years of human resources training, and the diploma that had been mailed to her house had proven that.

she wasn't sure if her father had even hung it up anywhere.

she walked down the hallway, gingerly opening the pristine white door to her childhood bedroom. the walls were still painted the same pale purple, cluttered with canvasses that she had painted years ago, a twin bed in the middle of the room with a white down comforter and a pile of build a bears resting against the pillows.

"welcome home, y/n." she sighed to herself.

--------

three days later, the only peace that she could get was outside with the cicadas and the mosquitos. given sebring's proximity to the everglades, there was no small number of pests hovering in the muggy summer air as y/n pulled her hair back and popped open the hood of the pickup truck. there was a ratchet in her back pocket and a cropped, grease-stained white tank top.

any color darker than that and she feared she would get heat stroke.

she leaned over the engine, radio playing in the background as she began to fight with the engine's glow plugs, which she had been meaning to replace for almost a week.

"stupid fucking glow plugs. they're the easiest thing to replace, he said. it's easier to do it yourself, he said. well, why don't you fucking do it yourself, father dearest." she muttered, losing grip on the ratchet again and trying not to kick at the tyres. "motherfucker."

her head was still under the hood when the guest came strolling up her driveway.

"do you need help with that?"

"no, i don't need help, especially not from a man." she snapped, turning to look at the man standing across from her. "i can change a glow plug myself, thank you very much."

the man smirked. "well, i don't even know what a glow plug is, so you already know more than me."

withdrawing from the engine block, she twirled the ratchet in her hands as she turned to look at the man. "where's that accent from?"

"new zealand. i'm marcus, i live across the street."

she narrowed her eyes. this kiwi beanpole was the man that her father was so entranced with? this beanpole who didn't even know what a glow plug was worked in the automotive industry?

"y/n. my father speaks highly of you." she nodded in the direction of marcus' house. "you bought the noonan house? mrs. noonan was my babysitter, you know. from when i was five until i was fifteen. i loved that old woman."

"your dad did all the interior work for me. he's a craftsman, that's for sure." marcus nodded along. "back from uni for a few weeks?"

she'd deny it if you asked, but that statement cut deep. what hurt even more was that she would have to admit to him that she was moving back in with her parents. that she couldn't afford to maintain her independence, stand on her own two feet.

"actually, i just moved back home for good. i can't afford to move out." she sighed, moving to sit on the front steps of the house. "i forgot how hard my family was to live with. i've only been home for three days and i swear i've come this close to strangling shiloh. have you met shiloh yet?"

marcus laughed. "she's a firecracker. i don't think she likes me very much."

y/n grinned, inviting marcus to sit next to her. "she's sixteen. i don't think she likes anybody. ever since she dyed her hair black and got her nose pierced, she's been a different person. a person that i don't know how to relate to any more."

"i'm sure she'll come around. my sister is like, the complete opposite of me. paris thinks i'm full of shit half the time, but we love each other still. i know paris will always be there for me, and i'll always be there for paris."

y/n gestured at the car in marcus' driveway. "so how does a guy like you afford an amg and a three bedroom family home? because you sure as hell don't work in the automotive industry."

marcus raised an eyebrow, a small gesture that made her stomach do somersaults for reasons she couldn't explain. "what makes you so sure?"

"you didn't even know what a glow plug is. all diesel engines need them to run. i learned that when i was twelve years old, you would have learned in high school auto shop. so what do you really do? stripping? black market drugs?"

the kiwi laughed, throwing his head back. "i'm a podcaster, and i work in racing. telling your dad i worked in the auto industry seemed like the best way to get on his good side. he's a good contractor."

racing. something that once brought her so much joy but now left a bad taste in her stomach. she hadn't been to the speedway since she moved out.

"racing is in my blood. i was raised at the track because my grandfather was the groundskeeper. i remember watching the indycar race on his shoulders when i was seven years old, a chip ganassi hat that was three sizes too big resting on my head. i couldn't see a thing." she smiled at the memory. "my dad worked the assembly line at chevy, with some contracting on the side once he learned my mom was expecting me. after he retired he started restoring custom cars part-time, and i think he always hoped that i'd take on the family business with him."

"and you didn't?" marcus seemed surprised. obviously he expected that the girl in the skimpy top and cutoff shorts and the astrology tattoo on the inside of her wrist who cursed like a sailor when things didn't go her way would feel right at home in a garage, ratchet in her hand and wrench in her back pocket.

"i went into human resources. i couldn't stay in a garage all day, breathing in grease and lead paint day in and day out, wondering if things could have been different."

"do you regret it?"

she sighed, biting her bottom lip in a motion that sent a rush of energy through marcus' body. "i don't know yet."

as the silence became awkward, y/n got to her feet again, reaching out a hand to help marcus up. "come on, you're going to learn about glow plugs today."

----------------

"shiloh, can you keep it down?" y/n shouted, staring numbly at the resume on her computer screen. nobody told her that she'd be graduating without a single prospective job offer, and now she was scrambling to find a proper hr job, otherwise she'd end up working the counter at white castle.

she was in the basement, at the table she used to use to finish assignments in high school. the floor, once shining hardwood, was now adorned with rice mats for her sister, who was currently cycling through her second workout video, the basement filled with the younger girl's grunts and the sounds of weights knocking against the padded floor.

"i'm trying to do my workout." shiloh answered coolly. "i have a tournament in three weeks."

"i don't give a fuck, shiloh, i'm trying to find a job so that i don't have to live with mom and dad until im thirty years old."

shiloh rolled her eyes, turning back to her kettle bell weights. "they're always hiring at sonic burger."

"i'm not working in fast food for the rest of my life, jackass! i spent thousands of dollars trying to get this goddamn degree and now i can't even use it for anything!"

"should have listened to dad and gone into the trades. maybe you aren't trying hard enough."

"shut the fuck up, shiloh!"

"girls!" mrs. y/l/n called. "what is going on down here?"

shiloh pause her youtube video, getting to her feet. despite the four years between them, shiloh towered over her older sister, and was often confused for the older one. "y/n keeps interrupting my workout."

y/n gawked. "i was here first! and i'm trying to get a job, at the only damn desk in this house, and shiloh can't even give me ten minutes of peace because it's 'her routine' and i'm 'being disruptive'."

"well, your sister's workout is important. she's a high performance athlete."

"i don't give a shit, mom!"

"language, y/n! go upstairs and work at the dining room table, stop fighting with your sister. you've only been back home for a week!"

"yeah, ande it's like you don't have space for me here anymore!" y/n shouted, slamming her laptop shut and running up the basement stairs, trying not to cry.

this is the last way she expected her life after college to go: hunting for jobs in her moms basement, her sister telling her that she wasn't trying hard enough to get hired anywhere other than a fast food restaurant who would hire anybody off the streets during the busy months.

she couldn't even stand to be in that house, walking right out the front door and striding across the street to the noonan house without even looking to see if there were any cars on the road.

she walked past the mercedes, hand curled into a fist as she knocked on the front door, hoping and praying that a certain podcaster was home.

"y/n?" marcus' voice was soft and concerned after he opened the front door. "what are you doing here?"

"can i get some work done here? i'm trying to fix my resume so that i don't end up working at white castle for the rest of my life and i can't get anything done with shiloh around."

“of course,” marcus laughed “I’ll open a bottle of aperol spritz?”

"god, yes!" she breathed out, stepping into marcus' front hall and slipping out of her flip flops before she followed him into a large open concept main room, a kitchen island running down the middle. the back wall had been all replaced with sets of french doors that were more window than door, letting light into the bright, modern space.

"you're house is incredible. i don't think mrs. noonan updated this place since the sixties."

marcus chuckled, grabbing a glass wine bottle from the counter. "don't i know it. the master bathroom still had a green toilet. a green bloody toilet."

"oh god." y/n laughed, sitting at the island and opening her laptop. "can i trouble you for the wifi password?"

once marcus got her hooked up to the internet, she pulled up her cv, looking at the sad, small list of qualifications she had. she'd been lucky enough that she hardly ever had to work over the summer or in high school. everything on her resume were the community service hours she was required to get to graduate secondary school and the one paid position she did for the town of sebring three years ago.

"i'm never going to get a fucking job, am i?" she groaned quietly as marcus passed her a wine glass filled halfway with aperol spritz. "i'm going to be working a fast food counter at an all night mcdonalds."

"you could always work for me." marucs shrugged. "not to brag, but i just signed a major indycar deal with chip ganassi and i'm trying to expand my team, both with podcasting and racing."

"hang on, podcasting and racing?" y/n blinked, looking up from the screen, blue light still glowing onto her floral patterned shirt. "you're a racing driver? you could have mentioned that!"

marcus laughed as y/n reached over the counter to swat at his arm. "what? i assumed you would have googled me!"

"i have better things to do than google my neighbours!"

"i'm being serious, look me up right now."

y/n rolled her eyes before typing marcus' name into the search bar (after bothering him for his last name, which she realized she didn't already know).

"well shit. i'm staring at the newest driver of the ridgeline lube chip ganassi number 11 indycar."

"i told you." marcus grinned goofily, taking a sip of his drink. "seriously, you said you went into hr? we'll need someone like you to be on the podcast team for screaming meals."

y/n smiled softly at the boy across from her. the boy who had already lived more life than she could ever have dreamed of. "yeah, okay. maybe i'll take you up on that."

----------------

it was the first time she had been alone in the house all week, and she was ready to take advantage of that fact.

all week she had been back and forth between the childhood bedroom she was trying to redecorate and marcus armstrong's living room. many a night had been spent sleeping on his couch after a night of shitty comedy movies and cheap supermarket wine.

no, her parents and shiloh had left before six in the morning to take her to a cross country meet in daytona, and they wouldn't be back until well after ten p.m.

the silence was nice, she thought to herself as she paced the house in her soft cotton robe, the hem barely covering her ass, a warm, almost empty mug of hot chocolate in her hands as she drained the last dregs of laura secord and placed the mug on the kitchen counter.

she shut the bathroom door behind her, the heating tubes underneath the tiles warming her cold feet as she connected her bluetooth speaker, 'just like a pill' by p!nk echoing around the room as she leaned into the shower, trying to run the water warm.

the shower sputtered, weakly spitting out three drops of lukewarm water.

"oh for the love of god!" she groaned, pressing her head against the glass shower door. "the one fucking day i have the house to myself."

she sighed, lying down on the floor and opening the doors to the cabinet under the sink. there was a problem with the pipes, the one thing that she couldn't fix (and also didn't want to risk making worse, with things between her and shiloh being particularly tense). cursing under her breath, she reached for her phone.

"hey, marcus. can you come over? there's something up with the pipes in the bathroom and my shower won't start. you wouldn't happen to know how to fix that, would you?"

on the other end of the line, marcus laughed. "funnily enough, that's probably the one thing your dad taught me that he didn't also teach you. let me go and commence the wild goose chase required to find a tool box in this house, and i'll be there in ten minutes."

"you're a lifesaver, armstrong."

true to his word, ten minutes later, marcus armstrong was lying on her bathroom floor, shirt riding up to showcase his perfectly toned abs, muscles rippling under his skin as he tinkered with the pipes. it was taking every bit of self-restraint that y/n had not to cast aside her bathrobe and ride marcus on the heated floor.

she swallowed the thought, closing her eyes as she mentally chastised herself for thinking about her neighbor, and only friend within in a ten mile radius, like that. feeling her nipples hardening under her robe, she crosssd her arms over her chest (and her legs over each other, to try and deal with other issues) in an attempt to hide her arousal from the kiwi.

"i think i've got it!" marcus shouted. "try the shower now!"

grateful for the distraction, she padded over to the massive shower, reaching inside and turning the dial to warm. she let out a sigh of relief as the shower started up, warm water cascading down the rainhead and swirling down the drain.

"marcus armstrong, i could kiss you right now." she beamed, turning back to the man, who was now leaning against the doorframe. "thank you so much. there has to be something i can do in return."

marcus swallowed, realizing now how small the bathroom truly was, despite the size of the rather large shower. and with that realization, he also realized how close to y/n he was standing.

and he could also see the outlines of her nipples poking through the cotton robe, a sight that made him draw in a breath.

he wasn't supposed to think about her like this. not with the season coming up, and her about to start working for him in the screaming meals production department.

it wasn't proper.

but why did it feel so right?

neither of them said a word, marcus' hand coming up to caress the side of her face. refusing to spend any more time overthinking it, he kissed her first, cradling her bottom lip in between both of his.

what started out as a sweet, gentle kiss, quickly became hot and heavy, hands wandering under shirts and robes falling to the floor, shower still running behind them as marcus palmed y/n's ass, a small, sugar-sweet moan leaving her lips.

"you have no idea how long i've wanted to do this." marcus breathed, voice husky as he fumbled with the belt on his jeans. "every time we've watched a movie on my couch, i've wanted to pull the blankets over both of us and take you right there. they day you came running over to my house after shiloh was giving you shit, i wanted to kiss you and tell you everything would work itself out."

"well, now's your chance, armstrong. the shower is big enough for two."

__________

"marcus, can i ask you something?"

two rounds later, they were lying in y/n's bed, the plush white duvet pulled around their bodies. it was a tight squeeze, getting them both to fit on the twin sized mattress. her build a bears had been unceremoniously shoved onto the laminate floor.

"whats on your mind, pretty girl?" marcus asked softly.

"how are we going to make this work? i live with my parents and my teenage sister, for god's sakes. i'm back under their curfew, sleeping in a twin bed in a room that hasn't been redecorated since i was seventeen."

marcus kissed her on the forehead softly, moving to lace his fingers with hers, his hair still damp and ruffled form the shower. "we try, as simple as that. we'll find you a job, and you can stay over at mine however often you want. i can't promise your parents that you'll be back by the time curfew hits, but i can promise them that you're safe with me. and who knows, if this goes really well, maybe you could even move in with me."

y/n laughed softly. "hold your horses, racer boy."

"i'll hold the horses back as long as it takes for you to realize that i'm hopelessly in love with you."