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jae-bummer · 11 months

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Right Here With Me

Request: hi! :) i feel like #19 on your recent prompt list would really fit to seventeen’s hhu, specifically to mingyu or seungcheol.. i adore your writing, thank you for putting in so much effort 💌

Prompt:

19) Taking care of your tipsy bias.

Pairing: Seventeen S.Coups x Reader

Genre: Fluff

You jumped as Seungcheol slammed his hand on the table. "Sing with me."

You blinked up at him in surprise. He was shimmying from side to side with the karaoke mic in hand.

"Coups," you sighed, crossing your arms. "We really need to get you guys back home."

"Noooo," he pouted, now his turn to cross his arms. "It's so lonely at home. Here is the opposite of whatever lonely is."

You looked across the table to Vernon who seemed to be thinking over the antonym of "lonely." Turning your eyes to Wonwoo for help instead, he gave a small shrug before taking a long sip of his water. To his benefit, he had been about as many drinks in as the rest of the guys but had chosen to hydrate about an hour ago.

"Come oooon, Y/N," Mingyu cooed, swaying behind Coups with the other microphone. "One more song!"

"One more song!" Coups chanted. "One more song!"

It wasn't long before Vernon and Mingyu had joined the chorus. With their shouting still in the background, Seungcheol stepped toward you and reached out to play with a lock of your hair. His eyes were half lidded and his plush lips pulled up at one side. "Come on, baby."

Closing your eyes, you sighed. "Coups."

Plopping on the bench beside you, he coaxed you into his side, and placed a wet kiss on your temple. "Pretty please? I love you soooo much. Why won't you love me?"

"Why is it that he always feels it pertinent to confess to you when he's drunk?" Wonwoo muttered as he watched with lifted brows.

"I don't know," you hissed, fighting your way out of Seungcheol's arms. "And what does me loving you have to do with you singing another song?"

"Everything," he said with a stubborn nod.

Wonwoo wasn't wrong. This was often Seungcheol's MO. You were best friends, even closer than that even. He was like a limb at this point. If you lost him, you wouldn't know how to function. That being said, the two of you had never explored a romantic relationship. You were mostly afraid of ruining your friendship, and he seemed to only think about it when he was intoxicated.

"He's so going to regret this in the morning," Vernon cackled, falling back into his seat.

"If you loved me, you'd let me sing one more song," Coups whined. "I'll even sing OUR song."

"We have a song?" you muttered. "Since when do we have a song?"

"Since," Coups hiccuped. "I heard it and thought of you."

"That's hardly "our" song then." You couldn't help but chuckle, plus, you were very curious to hear what Coups thought of as "your song."

"Pleaaaase," he begged. Sticking out his bottom lip, he gave you puppy dog eyes.

"Fine," you gasped. "One more song and then I walk you home!"

An award-winning smile took over Seungcheol's face as he sprung up and toward the karaoke machine. Flipping feverishly through his options, he finally seemed to find what he was looking for. Spinning around, he pointed a finger at you.

"This is for you, Y/N," he said in a low voice. You weren't sure if he was trying to be sexy or funny.

"Oh, this is going to be good," Wonwoo chuckled, pivoting himself to get a better look at the front of the room. Vernon already had his phone out and set to record.

You took a deep breath as you heard the intro to the song. Surely this wasn't what you thought this was.

"I've been drinking, I've been drinking," he crooned. "I get filthy when that liquor get into me - I've been thinking, I've been thinking..."

"Holy shit," Vernon hissed in between laughs. "This is the best day of my entire life."

You wished you were a turtle. If you had a shell, you would have something to crawl into and die. What was he doing?

"WE BE ALL NIGHT! LOOOOOOVE! LOOOOOOVE!" Seungcheol and Mingyu screeched at the top of their lungs as they began to grind their hips into the air.

"Well," Wonwoo said with a wince as he stood from the table. "That's enough of that."

Taking the few steps to cross the room, he tapped gingerly on the karaoke tablet. Within seconds, the music turned off, and the boys were left screaming in the open air.

"Yah!" Coups gasped, after he realized. "What did you do that for?"

"Everyone, I did that for everyone," Wonwoo muttered, gathering his things. "We have an early schedule tomorrow. Let's get moving."

You never had feelings for Wonwoo, but you could honestly kiss him right now.

"You heard him!" you yelled, pulling yourself to your feet as well. "Let's get moving!"

"Why didn't you like my song?" Seungcheol hiccupped. You were easing him up the steps to his apartment, holding nearly all of his body weight in the process.

"I liked your song just fine," you cringed, another flight of stairs behind you.

"You looked miserable," he pouted. "Why don't you ever take my confessions seriously, Y/N?"

"Because you don't take your confessions seriously," you muttered. Furrowing your brow, you counted the numbers on the apartment doors until you found his. "What's your code this week?"

"I can't tell you," he slurred. "It's a se-se-secret."

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you fluttered your hand toward the door. "Type it in then."

Seungcheol hiccupped again before slumping in the direction of the doorframe. Cupping his hand around the keypad, he eyed you suspiciously. "This is for my safety."

"I know, Cheolie," you laughed. "I'm not arguing with you."

Glancing back to the keypad, he stumbled back a bit. Catching him by the shoulders, you waited for the door to unlock.

"Why are there so many numbers?" Coups sighed, leaning against the door again and poking at the lock. "Three two's? Which two is the right two?"

"Let me try," you hummed. "Can you tell me what your code is?"

"My manager said not to tell anyone. Not even my mom."

"And you can change it as soon as I leave," you sighed. "If we can't get in, you're sleeping on the door mat tonight. And that's not very safe, is it?"

"Why can't I stay with you?" he asked, his eyes brightening with the sudden idea.

"Because I am not hauling you downstairs again and then another three blocks," you grumbled. "The code, please Coups."

"I like it when you call me Cheolie," he pouted.

"Cheolie, my sweet bean," you said, trying to contain your exhaustion. "Will you please tell me the code?"

"Mmm," he hummed, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling into your neck. "Is my birthday."

"Shocker," you breathed, rapidly typing in the lock code. The door made a small buzzing sound before chiming that you could enter.

Stumbling into his apartment, you flipped on the lights and popped off your shoes before heading to the kitchen. Seungcheol, on the other hand, toppled to the floor and began yanking at his shoes.

Scanning the cabinets, you found his most spill-proof tumbler and filled it with ice water. Judging by the muffled sounds of frustration in the entryway, he was still taking off his sneakers.

Turning the corner, you could only sigh. He looked like a toddler sorely in need of a nap. "They won't come off," he said quietly before looking up at you.

"Here," you said, handing him the water bottle. "Drink."

Doing as he was told, he gripped the bottle with both hands, and leaned back against the wall. You crouched down, making quick work of his shoelaces before you managed to finally free him.

"Let's get you to bed," you murmured, motioning for him to take your hand. He slid his palm into yours before easing himself up.

"How could I go from feeling so good to feeling so awful?" he muttered.

"Funny how alcohol will do that," you chuckled, walking with him to his bedroom. "Arms up."

Setting his drink on his desk, he lifted his arms into the air and allowed you to pull his hoodie from his torso. Losing balance after the motion, he toppled onto the mattress, pulling you with him.

"Hey!" you groaned, immediately trying to separate yourself.

"Stay with me," he said softly, tangling his arms and legs around you. "Please?"

He was always affectionate when he was drunk, and you knew that. You needed to shut it down now before your heart could coax you into staying a little longer.

"I have to go home," you whispered, still not willing your body to move. You tried not to be amused as Seungcheol began pulling blankets around you and tucking them in.

"You are home," he whispered. "Right here with me."

You felt an unwelcomed warmth spread through your chest. If he wasn't so cute this would be a lot easier.

"Seungcheol..."

"Seungcheol, Seungcheol, Seungcheol," he continued quietly, settling himself in beside you. "Why do you always give me reasons why you can't stay instead of just trying?"

A little voice inside the back of your head repeated the old adage, drunk minds speak sober hearts. Coups was only clingy when he had too much to drink, but he had always been tender with you. Whether sober or inebriated, he was your person. You had never allowed yourself to think past platonic soulmates...but maybe...

"You're drunk," you countered. You felt so small in bed next to him. He was comfort and safety, even with soju on his breath.

"And you're scared."

He couldn't see the code to get into the apartment, but he could sure see right through you.

"It doesn't matter what I am," you whispered. "You'll regret this in the morning."

"No, I won't," he insisted. "Because I'll wake up with you next to me and I'll remember that drunk me did hangover me a solid.

I want you here, Y/N."

"Because you're drunk."

"Because you're mine," he said softly. "You always have been."

"Have I?" you whimpered. At this point, you were scared to break the spell. Scared that he would sober up and kick you out of his bed.

"Mhm," he cooed, pulling you closer. After placing a light kiss on your forehead, he chose to set his cheek there. "And I won't let go. Not even if there's a fire."

Anything that looked blurry now could be settled in the morning. How could you leave after that?

The Morning After

#s.coups #seungcheol #seventeen #svt #s.coups fluff #s.coups x reader #seungcheol fluff #choi seuncheol #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfic #s.coups seventeen #seungcheol seventeen #s.coups scenarios #s.coups oneshot #seungcheol scenario #seungcheol oneshot #seungcheol x reader

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your-highnessmarvel · 5 months

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Repairs

Requested by @talesofreading : Would you write something where you're a close friend of Steve and one time as your Bike needs some repair, he tells you to bring it to Bucky as he's good in fixing it. You're hesitant first as you have a bad crush on him but you decide to do it. So when you get there he's wearing a muscle Shirt, is all dirty and Looks pretty hot with his metal arm. So after you watch him fix your bike you can't resist the way he also Looks at you, so it happens that you end up in his shower together with some passionate smut. Later then he asks you for a proper date? 🤭

AN: omg this was sooooo good to write omg

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, piv, oral (f receiving), fingering, language

*gif not mine

MASTERLIST

"Yep, totally busted," Steve said, looking back up at you from where he knelt next to your smoking bike.

You put a hand to your sweaty forehead. Both of you had been at this for the better part of the afternoon, trying to figure out what was wrong with your motorcycle. Steve was in his white wifebeater, stained black from oil and grim, nails coated in dirt. He'd sweated right through his shirt and even his jeans were full of mud and dirt.

You'd sweated your fair share as well, competing with dirt under your nails and sweat right into your hairline. you didn't look any better, but you didn't care; this was your best friend, after all, and you had no reason to try to impress him.

"You know what?" Steve said, putting his tools back into his box. "You should go see Bucky."

You immediately rolled your eyes.

"He's good with bikes, y/n," he commended, seeing the way you shook your head.

"Is this another ploy to set me up with your grumpy best friend?" you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest.

Steve got to his feet, dirt-stained hands going right into his pockets. "I mean it, y/n," he said, almost scolded. "I'm not as savvy with bikes as he is. He'd do it if you said I sent you."

"Then come with me!" you said. "Every time I'm alone with him, there's this awkward silence and all he does is grunt as a response."

Steve smiled. "I wish I could come, but I've got a date," he answered.

"Yeah, right," you grumbled. You watched him carefully, your best friend and mentor, and something along the edges of his eyes was curious.

He was shy.

"Who is she?" you asked.

He shrugged. "A girl that I saw at the library." He cut that off pretty short, picking up his tools, his towel, and throwing the keys back at you. "Now, get to Bucky's before it's nightfall."

Bucky lived way out of the city, into the utopian suburbs. You found it funny that this was the life that Bucky chose. After everything you'd heard from him, you'd pictured him in a dingy, half-lit, half-crumbling one-bedroom in Manhattan. Not in the outskirts of the city.

Thank God your car could pull a trailer, or else you'd have had to ask Bucky to meet you at your place, and that just wasn't happening. The thousand-year-old soviet asset was known to be a judger of literally everything.

You pulled into Bucky's parking space, the garage to his tiny little house open, like a black mouth ready to swallow you in. By this time, it was nearing four in the afternoon, and the sun was searing, hot and humid, and with just a foot out of your car, you were already sweating.

You closed the door loudly, maybe trying to announce your presence so you didn't have to knock on the door.

"Hey." It was Bucky, coming out of the shadows of his garage. It took you a second to get the hinges in your jaw to work because, damn.

You'd always thought of Bucky as a man who passed as good looking. Well, when you met him, he was still in heavy therapy and on government surveillance. He still had long, matted brown hair and a face dragged down by sorrow.

But now. Now he'd taken to cleanly shave his hair, leaving a few inches of thick, curling locks on top of his hair, not totally covering his ears. And even though he was slimmer than the last time you'd seen him - he hadn't been working out as much - he still looked... better. Real better.

"Hey," you said, awkwardly waving at him. He was carrying a white rag, cleaning his hands from oil or dirt or whatever else he'd been doing. "Steve said I could come to you if I had problems with my bike?"

He pursed his lips. He came closer, out of the shadows and into the mid-afternoon sun, and you got a good glimpse at him. Golden skin, scars matting his hand, his knuckles. He was wearing a muscle shirt, the kind that was maybe a bit too small for him, molding to his muscles, straining across his metal bicep.

You'd never really seen the arm before. Only flickers of his hands or fingers, but never the entire machine.

You licked your lips, something squeezing in your lower belly.

"What's wrong with it?" he asked.

you shrugged. "Dunno."

He glazed his eyes, rolled them. "Alright, take it down and bring it into the garage."

With a tiny sigh of resentment - he wasn't helping you - you unlatched the ties of your bike and rolled it into the garage. it was darker, a little cooler, inside. As you settled your bike in the dead center of the room, Bucky brought two stools, effortlessly carrying them around.

He sat on his and motioned with a wrench for you to sit beside him. Even though you'd sweated all day in your black t-shirt, and God knows whatever he'd down today, there was something terrific about sitting this close to Bucky.

His tanned fingers worked to open up the bike, his metal hand working the wrench.

"Ah," he said, poking around the engine. "I see what's wrong."

"Is it fixable?" you asked.

He chuckled. "Don't worry, darling," he whispered.

You swallowed the heat climbing up your throat, watching him get to work in silence. Unlike Steve, Bucky didn't tell you what he was doing or why; he just did it.

It took longer than expected. And the more he worked, straining against your bike, the sweatier he got, the more figetting you did.

His flesh arm was glistening with a thin layer of sweat. His hand was veined, strained against the metal piece he was holding aside. His fingers were dirty with grime and dust. Even that God damned muscle shirt was stained with dirt and sweat and grime.

By the time he was done, a light sheet of rain was coating the ground outside. It was pitter-pattering against the cement, a slow drone of rain against the tin roof. Almost comforting.

"You can't take your bike out in the rain," he said, putting everything back in its place, stowing his tools and his rags.

You gulped. "Yeah, I'm sure the rain will let off soon." You dragged your sweaty palms onto your jeans nervously. It caught Bucky's eye.

He stood, dragging your eyes up to his figure. He was so tall, so wide at the shoulders, sweating in his shirt, hair a mess.

"I've got beer inside," he said, throwing the rag in the corner of the garage, placing his tools on his self-made wooden desk. Then he turned to you and gestured to the front door. "Come on."

You followed him out into the rain, walking quickly up the steps and into his home, which smelled of him, something woodsy, and air freshener.

You were humid, rain dotting your skin as you took off your sneakers and followed him into the kitchen. The air conditioning was making you cold.

his home was cozy but so boyish. No decorations but a huge TV. A grey couch with not pillows or blankets. Empty liquor bottles as props over the refrigerator, which droned on and on. There was only one magnet on his fridge, and it read "I love NY!" Which was ironic because Bucky didn't love anything.

"Here," he said, offering you an ice cold beer, but it did nothing to warm you up. You leaned back against his kitchen counter, sipping on your beer, watching him poke around the inside of his fridge. The yellow light cast on his face like a glow, and he hummed when he found what he wanted.

By the time he took out the rolled up cheese, he saw you shivering by the sink.

"I'm sorry," you said, settling the beer down. "I'm just a bit cold from the rain."

He hummed, slamming the cheese rolls on the kitchen table.

"We ought to warm you up," he said, diving back into the fridge to get a beer, which he opened and took a five good gulps before he wiped his wet mouth.

"Yeah," you chuckled, pressing your hands against your arms, searching for heat.

The super soldier, immune to any heat or cold or anything really, stood before you with his sticky muscle shirt molding to every nook in his muscles. His arms, his chest, down to his abs. Water had made it almost see-through, and you felt like a perv watching as he breathed, watching his muscles contract beneath the fabric.

"You should take a shower, y/n," he said, tone low.

You startled, eyes dragging from his abs to his face in a split second. Did you smell? Was that why he'd said that?

"You're shivering, poor thing," he said, clucking his tongue, taking another wild swing of his beer. And you noticed that he was eyeing you took, at your jeans sticking to your thighs, your hips. At your wet shirt glueing to the curve of your waist and breasts.

He set his beer down and offered his hand. "Come."

On some instinct you'd never registered before, you took his hand, flesh fingers warm and calloused.

He led you into a small bathroom with no windows. where various male paraphernalia was strewn across the sink. He pulled the shower curtian back and started the shower and you just stood there like a fish out of water; mouth slightly agape, your hand still loosely holding on to his.

"Bucky?"

He hummed.

"I don't get it," you said.

He returned his gaze to yours, satisfied with the steam rising from the shower. He gave you a small, tight smile. "Get undressed," he said, gesturing his chin at you, dropping your hand.

You stood there like a statue, examining him; from the hard jawline, the seriousness in his eyes, the way his skin pulled back when he moved his mouth.

Then, harder this time, "Get undressed or freeze, sweetheart."

The nickname, the pet name, sent a wave of fresh heat right into your face.

He watched, then slowly, he smiled. Like a rpedator trying to win its prey without having to sink teeth into flesh.

He took a tiny step towards you, watching your breath hitch, and he slid metal fingers under your shirt, pulling it up until it came right off your head. Your hair flopped back down over your shoulders, covering your bra.

He bit his lip. You watched, entranced as he moved to unbutton your jeans and slide them down your legs. He was agile because he took your panties off with it.

He came back to his full towering height, and he brushed your hair behidn your shoulders, exposing your chest, your full flesh to him.

He snaked an arm around your waist, and you gulped, the feel of his hands, burning metal fingers, was like a lightning bolt had erupted under your skin.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, close to your ear, his breath in your hair. "So fucking gorgeous." He slid his metal hand up and then your bra was sliding off your arms.

"Let me touch you, y/n," he whispered in your ear. You gulped, nodded. "Use your words, sweetheart," and his voice was rugged, wretched, as both his hands slid careful fingertips up on your ribcage.

"Yes, Bucky," you whispered.

He huffed against you. And then his metal hand engulfed your breast, knead it the way he wanted, and his lips found your neck. You whimpered, taken by surprise by his sudden act of devotion. His tender fingers pulling your nipple, drumming against your ribs, lips leaving a wet trail of kisses up your jugular.

When he kissed you, his mouth was warm and wet, and he molded his lips to yours carefully, like he didn't want to scare you off.

You kissed him back just as carefully, confused and distraught, unaware that for years, Bucky had been yearning for this opportunity. For this moment where he finally had you alone.

Quickly, the kiss became rougher. Your hands pulled at the soft, thick strands of his hair and he pulled you aainst his with his metal arm around your waist. He nipped at you, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, groaning as his flesh finger felt you.

He skimmed along your navel, until he could cup you in his palm. You squeaked, taken by surprise. "Easy there, princess," he whispered against your mouth. "Just wanna make you feel good."

He dove right back for a kiss, delving his tongue behidn your teeth while his fingers started working circles around your clit.

You had realized how riled up he'd gotten you, like a hardwire ready to snap.

You bent like a bow in his arms, moaning against his mouth as his fingers continued to circle your clit in slow, languid circles. And when he prodded farther, where you most ached for him, he moaned against your mouth when he felt just how soaked you were.

"Fuck, y/n," he groaned, pulling his mouth from yours.

You almost whimpered at the lost of contact, but he picked you up so effortlessly, so quickly, that you hadn't registered that you were now sitting on the edge of the sink until you couldn't see him anymore. All you could see was the steam rising from the shower, clogging the bathroom, settling on your skin in dotted water drops.

And Bucky, on his knees, pulling your knees apart. His eyes, hooded and so blue, looked up at you as he kissed the inside of your thigh.

"One leg on my shoulder, baby," he ordered, his metal hand under your thigh, helped you move until you were almost straddling his face. "That's it, good girl," he groaned, biting into the plush of your thighs.

The angle sent you backward, back against the cold mirror, and one hand hanging onto the edge. Ready to plummet or fly, you couldn't tell.

His mouth teetered around your pussy, kissing along your thighs, until he settled over your clit and gave you one long swipe of his tongue.

Your head fell backwards, eyes closing, hips searching for his mouth.

"You taste so sweet," he cooed, pressing another long lick from your hole to your clit.

A strangled moan escaped your clenched teeth when he sucked on your clit, one of your hands digging into his hair and pulling him where you wanted him.

The room was filled with the filthy sound of Bucky getting his fill, lapping you up and sucking in your clit like a man starved. Both hands leaving ink-blue marks in your hips.

He worshipped your clit, flicking and sucking to a rhythm that had your thighs shaking against his face, with you pulling his hair by the roots. He sucked and fucked your hole with his tongue until a knot formed right under your belly button and exploded in white hot lightning.

As your orgasm washed through you in waves, rocking against his face, a moan hitched in your throat.

Bucky held your thighs open, refusing to let them close, and lapped up his fill.

When you were but a trembling, babbling mess, Bucky it into your thigh, kissing up your knee until he was standing between your legs. His eyes were hooded, pupils blown, mouth red and glittering, swollen from the kisses he'd lain on your clit.

"Come 'ere," he groaned, grabbing you by the back of the neck, bringing you upright on the counter. He brought his mouth to yours in a feverish, harsh kiss that left you dizzy and scrambling to keep up with him.

You pushed him away, grappling at his shirt, pulling it over his head. You gorged on the sight, on the tanned skin exposed, the scar where his metal shoulder meshed with his flesh. You touched the tips of your fingers to his metal shoulder, skimming down to his hand.

He took your mouth again, pressing you back into the mirror, hands in your hair, on your breast, skimming down back to your dripping hole.

He entered one flesh finger, pressing against your walls, so slippery and warm. He hummed, feeling your breasts against his chest as you bowed your back at the sensation.

You patted him through his pants, feeling him warm and hard against your touch. He hissed at the sensation, nipping at your mouth.

He continued to move his digit in and out of you, pressing his palm to your clit. You continued palming him, pressing against the impressive length of him until he groaned and took himself out of his pants, dropping them at his ankles and kicking them away.

Your mouth opened in a small 'o' at the sight of him, hard and thick, tip dripping precum.

"Too much for you sweetheart?" he asked, pressing his forehead to yours, thumbs on each side of your jaw.

You shook your head, gulped, saw the faint smile that crossed his face. He watched you with keen eyes as he lined himself with your soaked heat.

He pressed his thumb against your mouth, kissing you, as he slowly inched in. He watched you take it, watched as your mouth opened, brows curving upward.

"Don't give up on me baby," he whispered, nipping at your mouth, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your jaw.

He slid himself to the hilt, grabbing your hip in a bruising grip, metal hand pressed against the foggy mirror over your head.

You gasped, latching onto his shoulders for dear life as he pulled back and thrust back into you, feeling you clench and flitter around him.

You whimpered, body pressing up against the mirror with one harsh thrust from his hips.

"That feel good, huh?" he asked, boring his eyes into yours, keeping a slow, languid pace with his hips. "Tell me, y/n, that feel good when I fuck you?"

You nodded, feeling him slick, sliding into you with ease, stretching your walls and hitting that spot deep in you that made you writhe.

"Yes, Bucky," you answered, breathlessly, scratching at his flesh shoulder.

He groaned, taking your mouth with his, speeding up his thrusts, making your head catch on the mirror. You moaned against his mouth, giving up full control of your body to his, at the mercy of every thrust, every change in rhythm.

"Taking me so well," he grunted, hiding his face in your shoulder, bruising grip on your hip helping him thrust himself deeper into you. Then he pulled himself up, face hovering over yours, searching your gaze wildly. "You like it when I fucked this tight little hole?" he asked, and again, his tone was scratching the surface of something wilder.

You nodded, feeling a knot form in your belly, your thighs closing around his hips. His mouth stretched into a smile, pounding deeper and faster into you. "Yeah, you do," he said, almost mockingly, pressing a sweaty forehead to yours. "I see the way you always look at me," he grunted, kissing your mouth, humming at the moan that left your lips.

"Bucky, please," you whispered, eyes falling shut, your orgasm on the brink of breaking.

"I feel you, y/n, come on," he grunted, keeping a harsh, pounding pace until your legs shook and your orgasm broke through you in waves. "Fuck, that's so tight," he breathed, chasing his own end, pounding into your tightening hole.

A stuttered moan left your lips as you clung to Bucky, rocking into your orgasm with every thrust, feeling the wave of pleasure reach your toes. His metal hand came slamming onto the mirror beside your ear, cracking into the glass as he pounded into you, breathless and wordless until he gave you a few sloppy thrusts and he was spending himself in you.

He stayed there a few moments, breathing with you, kissing you softly until he pulled out of you. You stuttered, a breath hitched in your throat, as you felt him leaking out of you.

He met your gaze, leaning back to examine his work, and then he slowly helped you to your feet. You giggled at your loss of coordination, hearing Bucky chuckle too as he helped you into the shower.

You let the warm spray wash his seed from the inside of your thighs, soak into your hair.

"Warm enough?" he asked, chin on your shoulder.

You chuckled. "I've been warm enough for a little while."

He hummed, placing both hands along your waist. He helped you wash up, lathering your skin and hair, helping you wash out the suds.

"Are you okay?" he asked, pressing tender kisses to your shoulder. "You're quiet."

"Yes," you answered, looking over your shoulder at him. "Are you?"

He smiled, eyes low. He raised his brows. "I am now," he whispered.

When you were done with the shower and you were both drying up, Bucky tied his towel around his waist and watched you put your hair up in a towel.

"What?" you asked.

He snorted. "It isn't like me to do...this," he said, leaning against the sink. His chest was wet, glistening spots lingering down to his abs. It was enough to make you want to do this again.

You smiled but didn't answer, focused on getting your towel around your torso.

"Do you want to go out to dinner sometime?" he asked, and you looked up, met his eyes across the steamy bathroom, and smiled.

"Yeah, of course."

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky smut #bucky x you #bucky x yn #bucky x y/n #bucky fic #smut #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #winter soldier #the winter soldier

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angelltheninth · 1 year

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How would the BLLK boys act in a lingerie shop with their girlfriend?

This is such a fun scenario, it was really funny to write it out cause I think a lot of them would just be a mess.

Pairing: Yoichi Isagi, Bachira Meguru, Sae Itoshi, Rin Itoshi, Hyoma Chigiri, Kunigami Rensuke, Mikage Reo, Nagi Seishiro, Barou Shoei, Michael Kaiser, Tabito Karasu x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, shopping, kisses, teasing, lots of blushing, flustered BLLK boys

A/N: I've always been a little shy when going into a lingerie shop tbh and I don't know why.

GETS FLUSTERED - Isagi, Chigiri, Kunigami

He's a blushing mess before you even step into the shop, covering his eyes, not sure where to look because everywhere he does look there's something that he thinks you'd look really good in. When you ask him for his opinion all he can do is stammer out a quick answer just to get out of there fast because the thoughts that he is having right now are far from pure.

"We're going in t-there? Can I even- I don't want to make you feel awkward though. Of course I think they'd look pretty on you but... Okay fine, but just for a little bit. I can just stand off to the side and... oh my g- that looks really, uh, really... awesome and pretty... I gotta go! Meet you by the bathrooms!"

STANDS THERE AWKWARDLY - Rin, Nagi, Karasu

He's calm as you enter but when you're looking through things he just stands awkwardly by your side, rubbing the back of his neck. Hearing the little whispers around you two he gets self conscious and tries not to think about the fact that you will be wearing what ever you pick. Stands outside the changing booth, holding your jacket and politely nodding at whatever you show him, trying very hard not to show you how nervous he is.

"Get in and get out. Simple enough. Yeah, its just lingerie, I've seen you in te before so it doesn't faze me. So uhm, ahem, how long do people usually spend shopping for these things? Just curious. I'm sure that what ever you pick will look great on you sweetheart."

PEAKS AT THE PRODUCTS - Sae, Reo

Even though he's seen you wearing pretty, even sexy, lingerie he can't help but be a little curious about all the different kinds there are. Imagining you in them, you wearing it just for him, it makes him happy to think about. So when you ask him for his opinion he's is very honest, and when you see him eyeing a particular piece you get a little smirk, pick it up, kiss him and wink at him on your way to the changing booth.

"These look nice, I like the material. The pattern would look good on you don't you think. Hm, lets see, you have one like this so maybe something a little more subtle. Don't get me wrong I'll love you in anything, just offering some expert opinions as I've seen quite a few of these on you."

WANTS TO SEE YOU RIGHT AWAY - Bachira, Barou, Kaiser

He's standing outside the changing booth, swaying from foot to foot, a big grin od anticipation on his face. He saw what you picked, very sexy. He can't wait to see you, and even more importantly he can't wait to take it off you. Well aware of his intentions you quickly pull him into the booth with you, telling him to be very quiet if he wants to touch. If he can't stop talking and complimenting you then you'll have to kiss him to shut him up.

"Done yet babe? I wanna see you! It's not weird, I'm gonna be the one looking and taking it off, so naturally I wanna see how pretty you look before that happens. In there? For real? Okay! Holy shit babe, you're... I wanna take it off right now. Haha, a kiss isn't a threat, it the promise of a good time, go right ahead."

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feelbokkie · 6 months

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[8:39 PM]

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

genre: fluff drabble

pov: 2nd person

description: You decided to ask your boyfriend an innocent question. You didn't expect him to answer so honestly.

pairing: bf!Seungmin x gn!reader (reader wears makeup)

warnings: swearing (just one!)

word count: 476

"Seungmin, when do you think I'm prettiest?"

"I'm not falling for that trick." He answers without wasting a second.

Both of you got home for the day around the same time and have been relaxing on the couch together in silence. You were scrolling through tiktok, showing Seungmin ones you thought were funny, while he hummed quietly and read. You only stopped scrolling because you saw a new trend where people would ask their partners when they thought they were the most attractive, pretties, handsome, etc. It made you curious to see what Seungmin's answer would be.

"There's no trick. I'll even tell you what my answer would be for you. But only after you answer. Please? I wanna know." You get up from his side and face him. He presses his lips together and stares at you. You're not sure if he's considering answering or trying to think of an answer. Maybe he just thinks you're stupid for asking the question in the first place.

"I think you're prettiest the second you take off your makeup." He says after a moment of silence.

"What?" You're taken aback by his answer. You want to laugh but you're not sure if he's actually joking or not. You know that if he's being serious and you laugh it'll hurt his feelings and he'll immediately retract his statement saying something along the lines of, 'I don't find you pretty at all. You're really ugly.'

"You're really pretty when you put your makeup. You do it really well and it suits you the way you do it," He closes his book and turns to face you more directly, "But I think you look best bare faced. It's my favorite version of you. I don't know, it's just my preference maybe. And I like watching you take off your makeup. It's almost like opening up a present on Christmas. Watching you go from one beautiful version of yourself to the most beautiful version makes me really happy-- Hey, why are you crying?"

"B-because, that is the sweetest thing you've ever said to me!" You blubber. You can't help but crying at Seungmin's answer. He had such a soft voice and bright smile while he was talking, it made you realize how much he really loves you. And how much you love him back.

"I'm sure I've said sweeter things," Seungmin brings his left hand to your face and wipes away your tears with his right hand.

"I don't care. This is number one now. I was going to say you look prettiest when you smile but that sounds lame in comparison." You sniffle.

"If you said it, it wouldn't be lame."

"I will cry again,"

"You also look pretty when you cry." He adds, smiling.

"I'm about to become so fucking beautiful in a second if you don't stop being sweet."

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

Permanent Taglist

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you (either at all or properly)

@amyysfics @berryblog @jaydebow @junebug032 @boiohboii @heistheavatar @lieslab @rainbae-anon @k-cock @hamburgers101 @mrswolfiechan @soulboundauthor @weird-bookworm @thisisnotjacinta @seungmyynie @halesandy @kpopsstuffs @honeydew93 @dandycharmer @stay278 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @babrieeee @brain-empty-only-draken @tenmii @blueforte @jihanlovic @felixglow @nuronhe @soonyoungblr @hello-2-u-from-me @phtogravi @jiisungllvr

#feelbokkie writes #stray kids #skz #seungmin #kim seungmin #skz imagine #stray kids imagine #seungmin imagine #kim seungmin imagine #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #seungmin imagines #kim seungmin imagines #x reader #seungmin soft hours #seungmin drabble

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laurashapiro-noreally · 24 days

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Looking for something to read?

Oh look, it's another recs post! This time I'm featuring two stories per author. These are writers I always make time for, whose work stands out as unusually hot, clever, funny, or smart -- sometimes all of the above.

I'm gonna start you out strong with two by @werpiper: After Hours takes Aziraphale and Crowley to the baths after their oyster supper, and all sorts of interesting pleasures are there for our angel to sample. Piper's Crowley is one of my favorites: always evaluating the situation, not quite aware of what his own heart is doing but feeling it anyway.

Fitting In is a new story, still a WIP, but I am utterly tantalized by Muriel's first taste of love -- and tea. This is already rich in detail, soft and fragrant, and I can hardly wait for the action to get going in earnest. The pairing seems surprising but when you think about it for ten seconds of course it makes sense. Sex workers help the curious, the awkward, and the inexperienced every day, bless them.

If you enjoy these, check out @werpiper's back catalog -- they have done a ton of ineffables-through-the-ages, and their series Miracles and Heresy is worth many delightful hours of your time.

I love what @copperplatebeech has been doing lately:

He's Not My Friend is a T-rated story that explores Aziraphale's constant refusal to acknowledge his relationship with Crowley, and Crowley's mirror of that, and how things glacially shift over time. It is subtle and yet specific, it will make you ache and smile.

All Of The Above, also T-rated, is a warm and fuzzy alternative to that, a hilarious celebration of true friendship that made me laugh out loud and still got me right in the feels.

@copperplatebeech can do everything, from quiet, gentle, and romantic to devastating plotty AUs to extraordinarily horny established relationship to absolutely ridiculous humor. Do dive in if you haven't already.

Next up, @cumaeansibyl, master of kink:

better living through technology manages to shove everything I want in a dirty story into less than three thousand words: uptight Aziraphale reduced to sodden wreck, Crowley gleefully showing him what he's been missing, character-driven erotics, and exceptionally funny dialogue.

indulgentiam peccatorum nostrorum is somehow all that and more, turning the "I was wrong" dance into a kink (something I can't get enough of, recs welcome). This one is post-Bastille so it is extra-juicy. Mind the tags!

@cumaeansibyl has a gift for established relationship one-shots, which readers of mine will know are my entire jam. They also have a mind-meltingly hot inverse!omens AU that features different variations of angelic/demonic Crowleys and Aziraphales for our ineffables to play with.

A new-to-me author, Calico, has me hanging by a thread with their Ineffable Romans series. If you want to remember that your ineffables aren't human, that they are inordinately clever but very stupid, that the feelings they have for each other are truly beyond what anyone alive has ever felt, Calico may be the writer for you. This stuff is deep. Also hot af.

Sub Rosa reads like a nasty shag at Petronius', but there's so much more going on here. It is Extremely Queer, driven by power dynamics, and Crowley is fully demonic here and absolutely in control...or is he?

The Intemperance of Liber Pater continues on this theme, with dialogue-driven smut that reads less like a seduction than an inevitability. There's another story in this series, unfinished, and I can't wait to see what happens next.

Last but not least: two short pieces by @ineffabildaddy. I stumbled on their stories just this week and I absolutely love their approach, which I've not seen done quite this way before.

take me as your wife has a tight first-person perspective as Crowley meets Aziraphale for a meal and imagines (or is it his imagination?) that Aziraphale is suggesting Certain Things about how they might occupy themselves later. Indeed, is he suggesting even more? Something about their relationship? Or is it all in Crowley's head?

Only in Dreams is kind of a companion piece, from Aziraphale's point of view -- though hundreds of years later. This one's set after the events of S2 and although just as romantic as take me as your wife, it also offers an ineffable take on the ol' glory hole concept. Just in case you thought I was getting soft. 😏

@ineffabildaddy has a whole series of poems and ficlets like these and I can't wait to explore them all.

#good omens #fic recs #good omens fic recs #ineffable husbands #ineffable partners #ineffable spouses #ineffable divorce #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #rare pair #muriel

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bokettochild · 3 months

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Through The Keyhole, See Another Life

Inspired by the giant flannel I've been wearing for the last week and how happy it makes me. This popped into my head at work because of it so.... here you go!

Fandom: Linked Universe

Characters: Time, Legend Four

Words: 1,954

Rating: Gen

Summary: The Chain are visiting the ranch, and while most of the other boys are finishing their chores, Time stumbles across Four introducing Legend to one of his guilty pleasures.

"Four, no."

Time glances up at the very firm voice echoing down the stairs. He’s not sure if the boys even know he’s come back to the main house yet, not with the guest room being on the backside of the house and unable to see the door and all. Usually, someone would have noticed the sound of the door opening, but all the other boys are outside with Malon, helping with the chores while their smithy and veteran rested inside.

The battle in his world had been a hard one, and as much as fairies and potions can do, they seemingly can’t prevent Legend’s chronic pain or Four’s migraines, both of which had been worsening for days even before arriving at the ranch. Malon, naturally, had insisted that both boys be allowed to sleep in today, and given they’d still been curled up tight in bed, tense and stressed even while asleep, he’d been inclined to agree.

It appears they’re awake now though, no doubt having found the breakfast laid just inside the door of their room for them, since no one had known if either would be willing to risk the stairs to find something while the rest of them were outside working. Still, he’d probably better check. He's been a bit worried about the two, and now that Malon has ordered him inside (he honestly wasn’t kicked that hard! The cows are just big!) he has plenty of time on his hands while the rest of his boys finish their assigned chores under his wife’s guidance.

“Why on earth not?” The smithy’s voice is a bit higher as it trails down the stairs to where he’s shucking off his boots and stretching out his back, feeling every one of his years, even the ones that technically didn’t happen.

Legend’s sigh is audible even through the floorboards, a soft groan probably accompanying a motion. “Because I don’t want to get in trouble?”

There’s a part of time that wants to snort at the words; the two heroes sound like children arguing about pulling a prank on their parents, but then the fact that he and Malon would be said parents in that situation hits him and it’s not as funny. Additionally, these are teen heroes, the idea that Legend is wary about it means whatever Four wants to do is either very dumb, very silly, or very dangerous, and he’s not sure which is the worse scenario.

He moves for the stairs, ears tuned closely to the door above, but feet quiet so they won’t hear him coming.

“I do this all the time, it’s nice! Come on, you’d love it if you let yourself.”

Okay then, less a worry, he pauses, listening. They’d probably resent that, but he’s curious now, and still a bit wary. He has to remind himself that Legend and Four are, in fact, two of the more level headed heroes- most of the time. At any rate, they’re usually pretty responsible, so even if he’s more used to Wild and Wind and (Hylia help him) Warriors, he really shouldn’t doubt them so much.

“Yes,” the bed upstairs creaks, “but you’re you. I’m me. There’s a big difference in how they’d react to you doing this- heck, Twilight would probably think it’s cute from you, and Sky definitely would-” definitely not dangerous then, or risky, or likely to cause damage of any sort “-but it’d be a whole different story with me.”

“You’re just scared to try.” Four taunts, headache clearly gone.

The bed creaks, like someone’s flopped on it. “Four, I am in too much pain to sit through Twilight chewing me out for being an ‘asshole’ again.” There’s a tick in the vet’s voice, a small hitch on the offending title. Come to think of it, his pup does tend to call the vet that pretty frequently.

Four doesn’t pause though, continuing his insistence on...whatever he’s insisting. “Then don’t touch Twilight’s things, he can’t be mad on someone else’s behalf.”

“He is.” Legend clips back. “frequently.”

Does his pup really chew the vet out that much?

“Blame me,” the smithy suggests, off-handed.”

The bed creaks again, a longer one, most likely as it’s resident shifts to face the smithy. He can imagine the deadpan tired stare and heavy sigh that likely touches their young vet’s face. “That’s the definition of an asshole move.”

“Then let me say it was my fault.”

“Again, you’re different. They‘d excuse it from you, but as a person with my own free will, they will blame me for-”

“Oh stop being a stick-in-the-mud!” Four huffs, petulant almost. He must be in one of his more childish moods, no doubt Red’s fault. It happens from time to time when they’re in a safe place and the smithy isn’t constantly around the other heroes. He didn’t think Legend would be allowed to see it, but maybe he’s wrong about that, because the smithy’s voice definitely has picked up the mannerisms of his more emotional aspect. “Just take this and put it on!”

Are they....is Four trying to get Legend to play dress up of some kind?

“Is that Time’s?” It’s hesitant, guarded, wary.

“He won’t mind, or notice either, I expect. He never does.”

Is Four getting into his things without his knowing? Since when? Time’s feet start back up the stairs again, only to pause once more at the vet’s hesitant voice.

“You sure he won’t crucify me or something?”

Malon’s going to kill him. That’s the impression he’s giving these younger heroes?

“Just do it,” Four huffs, “stop being a baby.”

And of course, insulting Legend is no way to get him to make the smart decision, whatever it is they're on about. He sets up the stairs again, creeping to the door of the guest room once he's reached the second floor and peeking around the door frame. The door’s still shut, but it’s little trouble to turn the handle ever so slowly and push it open enough to see what’s going on inside.

He’s not expecting what he sees.

Four is standing in the middle of the room, Sky’s embroidered undershirt hanging off of him like a rather short dress as he stares at the vet who’s still sitting on the bed where Time had left both of them early this morning. The vet, in turn, has similarly shed his own sweaty clothes, which he can see tossed over a nearby chair, and the pink-haired teen is currently drowning in what he recognizes to be one of his own tunics. The collar isn’t laced yet, but the vet is currently yanking at it to stop it trying to slip off a shoulder, struggling though because the sleeves of the outfit seem to have utterly swallowed his hands.

Four giggles. Red is definitely fronting, although the smile he sees on the smith’s face is more like Green’s. “Let me help.”

“It’s just the sleeves,” the other boy huffs, “I got it.” He doesn’t.

Time finds himself stifling a chuckle as he watches the vet fumble and fuss, switching between trying to free his hands and trying to tighten the collar. Any worries that the two were up to anything nefarious have long since vanished, although his will to see what they’re doing hasn’t.

They look like actual kids like this, Four decked out in stollen finery and Legend drowning in Time’s own clothes, much too big for him, to the point that with the next attempt to free his hands, long sleeves flap freely and loose in an effort of some sort (he can only presume) to make them fall down naturally. That effort though is quickly forgotten, the vet’s face loosening, softening somewhat, eyes wide as he pauses and then tentatively flaps the sleeves again. Four giggles, and Legend’s chuffing laughter follows it as he grins as his trapped hands and the excess fabric that shakes and snaps with his quick movements.

“Welcome,” the smithy sounds, “to the wonders of over-sized clothes. You’re welcome.”

“I hate you,” Legend sighs, but there's not a bit of actual malice in the words as he flops back against the pillows on the bed, seemingly having given up on trying to fit into Time’s clothes and instead accepting his fate. The boy’s face screws up a moment later in confusion though, and he lifts a hand to his face again with a frown, sniffing slightly at the shirt sleeve.

Time desperately, desperately hopes that Four didn’t steal that from his travel bag or dirty laundry. Except, he must not have, because Legend’s face softens again, this time into a smile, and he curls up a bit, burying his face in the fabric with a little hum that is strangely out of place for the harsh veteran they all have come to know. More so though, is the way Legend rubs his face across the fabric, ears flapping. It’s strangely adorable.

“Nice?” Four is definitely gloating.

Legend’s face rises for a moment out of the sleeves, a whole different person than Time knows, bitter-sweet smile and flushed cheeks. “’t smells like home.”

Something in his chest clenches violently.

There’s no such reaction from the smith though, who just looks pleasantly surprised, but nods it off with a smile, moving a bit closer and settling on the bedside, careful not to stir it and earning a brief look of thanks from the vet who is, now that he looks, still a bit pale and carrying tension around his shoulders and eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah” violet eyes fall down to stare at long sleeves, hand flapping slightly inside again, but not enough to do more than make the fabric shift and shuffle a bit. “Time must use the same aftershave as-” a pause, a twitch of the face into a frown. “It’s a familiar scent.”

It’s also a new one. Malon had got it for him for their wedding anniversary last year. He forgets what she called it, but she loves it, so he does too. On the road, it hardly matters what he smells like, but it makes him think of her and, like the captain says, it’s good to do small things for yourself even when traveling and fighting and struggling. Life’s not much worth living if it’s all harsh and you deny yourself even the small joys accessible to you. For him, that joy is remembering how his wife beams and showers him with kisses once he’s fresh faced again, but in the room before him, it can also mean stealing your team-mates' too big clothes and curling up in them when you aren’t feeling your best.

The smile that pulls across his face as Legend rolls over to face Four better, curled up tightly in himself as the smithy laughs about something, both looking peaceful, is also one of those things.

For a moment, a precious, fleeting moment, he can almost forget the two boys in the bedroom across from his own are heroes who have to save the world. Instead, he can almost imagine them waking up there and joining farm chores every day. No pain brought on by whatever these two have faced would exist in such a world and instead they’d be free to run wild around the barnyard, racing to finish chores or pulling pranks and making mischief like boys their age should be doing.

It’s a nice picture, and not even properly bitter-sweet, even though he knows it can’t be, because they're still there in front of him, peaceful and content and chattering quietly, one of his boys curled up in his shirt and the other in Sky’s, both discussing scents and colognes and what smells signal home.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #ketto writes #lu legend #lu four #lu time #dad time #soft legend #four has multiple personalities/the colors #fluffic

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crazyk-imagine · 4 months

Text

Mean

Pairing: Paul Lahote x Fem!reader

Characters: Fem!reader, Paul Lahote, Sam Uley, Emily Young, Jared Cameron, Embray Call, Tiny Tim (made up)

Warnings: Reader knows about the supernatural, implications of dead parent, ex's inspire people, Sam and Emily are adorable, am I making them my favorites bc of the way I write them lol, Paul and Reader are adorable, Paul is a little shit, so is Embry and Jared, no one can act normal around a sassy person

Word Count: 1,231

A/N: Was I listening to Mean by Taylor Swift? You can't prove anything

I've had this ready for a week, but shit kept happening at work man ughhhhhh

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

It was meant to be, or so you thought.

You blink, staring at the ceiling not sure why your ex came to mind.

He was partial to the reason for your move the gloomy town (which you enjoyed more than the sunny state you were in) but not the entire reason.

If only your mom could see you now, working hard and still keeping true to who you are.

You push yourself out of bed, needing to get started on your day.

You finish up and jot down another line, knowing it's slowly turned into a "revenge" song.

You exit your place and hop in your truck, heading down to your favorite person's place.

"Emily, your other honey is home."

Sam lets out a dry laugh. "Funny as always."

"I know, it's one of the perks of being my friend."

"Are going to do..." You snatch a muffin from the tray. "Sam things?"

The couple glance at one another, curious if you know.

"Yeah, we won't be back till later-" He doesn't finish as the boys burst through the door. Almost all ignore you, not aware of your presence.

You mumble, "now I know why you're ready to feed an army."

The boys freeze, all conversations stopping. "Uh-"

"Who's the girl?" Jared asks, snaking a muffin.

You raise a brow, picking at the muffin, breaking it into bite size pieces. "What a question."

"Who's the sassy girl?" The same guy asks.

"How do you deal with idiots?"

Emily snickers, scanning over the pack for their expressions.

"Good thing Paul's not here or else he'd flip a lid," Embry mutters.

You push yourself off the stool and grab your bag. "Later, Em. Bye bye, Sammy."

You wave them off before glancing at the group. "Such an interesting... gang you have here."

You spin around, smirking to yourself, not wanting to let the cat (wolf) out of its bag. "I heard there's going to be a full moon tonight."

Or maybe you don't care if they know you know.

"Does she-"

The door slams shut.

You shake your head, smirking to yourself, proud of your teasing. You bump into a body, not entirely paying attention. "Sorry." You pass by the person and hop in your car, not realizing the electricity he felt in that simple touch.

You look up after putting your keys in the ignition, only to find a dark pair of eyes on yours.

The subtle feeling through your body alerts you.

"Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap." You have to force your gaze away from his. "Please don't be able to read lips. Oh, crap. They can hear." You start pulling out and make it back to your house.

Weeks go by and you screen another one of Emily's calls.

"I'll call her when this passes," you mutter, writing another line. You slam your pencil down, "who am I kidding? It's never going to stop."

You don't want to answer her and send another lie.

Boo Thang #2 <;3

'Sorry, not feeling good. Will text later.' 2:59pm Sent Read

A knock on your door surprises you.

You carefully make your way to the door, scanning through the peephole. Your back's flat against the door. "Why the hell is he here?"

"We need to talk."

"I don't think so."

"You know more than you let on."

"So?"

"We need to talk."

"Can I just call you?"

"No, Emily's been trying for days, and it hasn't worked. Let me in."

You scoff, "not with that attitude."

He growls under his breath, "fine. Please let me in?"

"No."

"You're testing my patience."

"Go test it out with someone else."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"You gotta be more specific bud."

"I don't like that name."

"Bud?"

"Stop it."

You smirk, "bud."

He knocks on your door with more force, trying to get one of your neighbors to come out so they can tell him to stop and make you let him in.

You snarl as the door swings open, "stop it you, idiot." You yank him in, earning a confident smirk from him.

"I don't like this look on you. You think you've won."

"Who says I haven't?"

"Me. I am the one who decides since this is my place."

"Living here alone? Really?"

You shrug, "parents died."

"Oh," he clears his throat, "sorry."

"It's fine. Not your fault."

"So, uh- what do you know?"

"I used to visit when I was a kid and heard the stories because of my cousin."

"You know?"

"That we happen to be united forever essentially, kind of hard not to, not gonna lie."

"Are you upset?"

You furrow your brows, "what do you mean?"

"Your imprints with the hothead. The one with "anger" issues. The list goes on." His brows furrow in annoyance, the pout on his lip making him look... cute.

"Who?"

He shocked you don't know who he is. "Lahote?"

"Paul?" You ask, not entirely sure if you got the right name or not.

"Oh, so you do know."

He sighs, "great."

"Barely, I just remember your guy's names from the elders at the meetings."

"How long has it been since you were in town?"

You shrug, "few years. I haven't been out of the house as much since my life went to crap," you offer a sarcastic smile.

"I feel like I've brought the mood down, do you- do you want to go out? I know this one place with uh- with decent music." He tells you the name and it takes all of you to not smile.

"Let's go, but we take my car."

He lets out a dramatic sigh, "fine."

You two arrive half an hour before you have to go on stage.

You make up an excuse and say you're going to be right back, needing to use the little girl's room.

"Next up, is one of our favorites," the mc, Tiny Tim (your favorite guy there) announces.

You walk across stage, confusing Paul but not Emily and Sam (who told him to take you there if he got far enough). They cheer you on while listening to your song.

All you are is mean And a liar, and pathetic, and alone in life And mean, and mean, and mean, and mean

You make it back to your seat beside your wolf.

"Where'd you learn to do that?"

You shrug, not liking the attention on you.

"That was- that was amazing."

"It was nothing."

"No- no, that was really good." Emily sneaks up behind you. "And that's saying something, Paul doesn't like to use his words to express his emotions."

The man frowns. "We get it. We get it."

You roll your eyes, "stop it, you two."

You two make it back your place. "I should at least drop you off."

He shakes his head, "I'm not that far from you."

"I don't know if I believe that."

"Then believe ne when I say I can run and not get tired."

You narrow your eyes before turning your head to hide your chuckle. "Get out of here, you idiot."

You hear him close the door and stare into the woods, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

The only wolf standing between the path of trees sticks out and you know it's him.

You shake your head, going into your home. "Idiot."

You swear you hear him huff.

#twilight #twilight wolfpack #twilight fanfiction #twilight fanfic #twilight x reader #twilight x you #twilight imagines #twilight imagine #paul lahote #paul lahote imagines #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote fanfiction #paul lahote fanfic #paul lahote x you #paul lahote x reader #crazyk-imagine

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thechekhov · 3 months

Note

Man, Izutsumi's whole selfish character really is explained by how shit a hand she was dealt. Given her motivations for following the party, becoming a cat-hybrid was clearly done to her without consent, and far enough into life that she knows she isn't supposed to be such a thing and wants to turn back into a human.

She also clearly wasn't trusted or loved much in Shuro's household, given that they literally used a death curse as a collar to keep her in check, and then later decided to leave her behind when they couldn't find her in the Dungeon. It's theorized that the various non-human servants of Shuro are slaves that were bought into the household. Tade being grateful could well be because she was born into slavery and is happy to have relatively kind masters, but if Izutsumi was a free human that got turned into a catgirl, and then a slave, I can see why she's being a brat about it, especially if she's being told to be 'grateful' simply for having not actively abusive masters.

Given her childish demeanor, she'd probably learn better through rewarding good behavior than punishing bad behavior, but as a slave I doubt there were many notable rewards on offer to incentivize her. Travelling with the Thorden party is likely the first time since her transformation that she's been free, so molding her into a decent person now that she's equal to others is going to be an uphill battle, if that makes sense.

I know that there a probably no revelations to you in this message, since you already seem to 'get' her character pretty well, so this is just me phiiosophising in the comments.

P.S. the Barometz is a funny monster that kinda exists just to suffer. It's named after a type of fern that grows from a wooly bulb with a superficial resemblance to a lamb. The mythological Barometz has a long vine-like umbilical cord that connects its body to the earth. It can only eat grass within reach of that vine, so when it's eaten all the grass it can reach, it can either starve to death, or pull free from the vine, which also kills it. A new barometz then grows from the corpse. Poor bastards are really just born to die.

Mmm, yeah. I was waiting for the comic to confirm it more before I jumped to conclusions about Izutsumi's background/past but if what you're saying gets confirmed within the story then yeah, that's explains why she acts the way she does even more.

(I assumed that she was some sort of a ward of Toshiro's house, yeah, but I thought that she was a beastkin first. The fact that there was a curse which was meant to kill her if she doesn't return to them....makes me wonder how much Toshiro knew about how the whole operation was being ran. Or if it just seems normal to him.)

Presumably, even in the east beastkin are viewed as being closer to monsters than humans. Their humanity being at stake means they're probably treated pretty horribly, which is likely the reason Izutsumi acts like everyone is her enemy, waiting to trick and deceive her.

That's kinda the tragedy of being a hurt person. She may have good reasons for acting the way she does, but Chillchuck's party (he's the leader, I've decided) doesn't deserve the way she treats them because of it. It's a sort of moral impasse.

It's just kind of a bad situation, but I'm very curious to see how she changes! She has already changed quite a bit since first meeting them. It's a fascinating story!

The Barometz thing is..... I KNEW I'd heard of it before, but that confirmation is WILD. Wow. Born to die indeed.

(sauce)

They have little celery legs, even. That's terrible. And so good. The most sad creature of all time.

#chekhov answers #dungeon meshi #chekhov reads dungeon meshi

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ariqxwz · 3 months

Text

𝕱𝖆𝖒𝖔𝖚𝖘

𝔓𝔞𝔦r𝔦𝔫𝔤 - Christopher sturniolo ︀︀x fem!reader

𝔰𝔶𝔭𝔫𝔬𝔰𝔦𝔰 - You are famous, and Chris has a big crush on you. Finally, you meet in person thanks to Nick

𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 - English is not my first language, so forgive me if I make mistakes.

𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 - 1053

"Chris, Y/n just posted a video!" Nick shouted from the living room.

Chris rushed out of his room and plopped down on the couch next to his brothers.

"She's got you hooked," Matt laughed, setting his phone aside and focusing on the living room TV, paused with your video.

You had a channel with your friends, creating videos similar to those of the triplets. Your channel had almost 5 million followers, making you quite famous, and your fans loved you.

"Quiet down, Nick, hit play," Chris said, his gaze fixed on the TV.

Nick chuckled and played the video; there you were on the screen with your two friends.

"Rock, paper, scissors," you said after a while of chatting.

"No way," you laughed, having drawn paper and your friends scissors. "Looks like I'll be the blindfolded one."

The video continued, Chris keeping his eyes on you. Despite not knowing you in person or whether you were aware of his existence, he had a major crush on you.

"I'd love to meet her in person," Chris murmured, earning curious looks from his brothers.

"We already know, every time you watch one of her videos, you say that," Nick rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the screen.

"Y/n!" Daniela shouted, approaching you and pulling you away from the kitchen island.

"I need a piece of paper, can you guys give me a piece of paper?" You asked, turning your head both ways, expecting a response that didn't take long to come.

You felt someone put their hands on your shoulders and move you. "You need to wash your whole body," Sophie said.

"Oh, that reminds me of Nick," you said as Sophie led you to the kitchen sink.

"Nick?" Sophie asked.

Daniela grabbed the camera and brought it closer to you both, recording as Sophie washed your hands.

"Yeah, Nick Sturniolo, from Sturniolo Triplets, don't you know him?"

Nick and Matt exchanged glances, waiting for Chris to react (which didn't take long), him jumping up from the couch.

"She knows you, she knows us!" Chris celebrated with a smile on his face.

"Yeah, Chris, she knows us. Sit down and watch the video," Matt laughed, grabbing him by the arm to get him to sit back on the couch.

Nick took the remote again and pressed play.

"No, I don't know who they are," Sophie replied, turning off the tap.

"You should watch their videos; they're very funny," you said while drying your hands with a piece of paper.

Daniela put the camera back in place when Sophie and you approached the island to continue with the brownie.

"I know them; what about you, Y/n? Are you a Chris girl, Matt girl, or Nick girl?" Daniela asked, appearing on camera again.

"Chris girl, definitely."

Chris looked at his excited brothers; they laughed at his exaggerated reaction.

"I've never been so excited because a girl said she's a Chris girl," he nervously laughed, running a hand through his hair.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

"I don't understand why you guys drag me out of bed so early to go play hockey," Chris complained, rubbing his eyes.

"Can you stop complaining?! That's all you ever do," Nick complained this time, causing his brothers to laugh.

Matt started the car and began driving towards the hockey rink.

Minutes later, Chris furrowed his brow in confusion as he looked out the window.

"This isn't the way," he said confused.

"The road is closed," Nick replied.

Chris shook his head and took his phone out of his pocket to go on Instagram.

"Leave the phone and move your butt," Nick said, getting out of the car and grabbing his backpack.

Chris and Matt followed suit and entered the facility. They passed the locker rooms before entering the rink.

"Who in their right mind comes to skate at eight in the morning?" Chris complained, walking through the hallways to get to the rink.

"You're such a pain," Nick made a face.

The triplets stepped onto the rink, finding three girls on the ice, one brunette and the other two blondes.

"Hey!" Nick greeted, getting onto the rink already with skates on.

Chris looked at Matt confused, who didn't say anything, just smiled.

Seconds later, Chris and Matt were approaching those girls who had their backs to them, although, truth be told, they looked quite familiar.

"Look, they're coming this way," Nick said, making the girls turn to look at them.

Chris's eyes widened in surprise when his eyes met yours.

"I had thought about doing a collaboration between the two channels." Nick continued. "You already know each other, so I don't see it necessary to introduce you."

Later, you started skating, and Chris fell behind, so you decided to join him.

"Hello," you greeted kindly, skating up to his side.

Chris turned his head to look at you and smiled.

"Hey," was all he managed to say.

"Nick told me you like our videos," you said, still smiling.

"Yeah, well, I always laugh," he said, nervously running a hand through his hair.

"I like your videos too; I laugh a lot as well."

You noticed Chris blushing slightly, but he turned his head to avoid you noticing – although you did – and smiled.

After a few seconds in silence, he finally gathered the courage to speak, even without looking at you.

"Could I get your number? For the collaboration and all, I mean."

You laughed slightly and looked at him.

“I'll give it to you now," you said, grabbing his hand to pull him off the rink.

Chris rummaged through his backpack for his phone, and when he finally found it, he handed it to you for you to enter your number.

"Do you mind if I text you not just for the collaboration? I really like you, and I think... we could be friends," he said, running his hand through his hair again as he looked at you while you typed on his phone.

"Sure" you smiled and handed him back the phone.

Chris took the phone and put it back in his backpack as best he could since he was nervous.

"Come on, let's go back to the rink" you said, grabbing his hand again to lead him back to the rink.

He didn't refuse, and you could see his smile again with a slight blush on his cheeks.

#christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #kinktober #fem oc

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impishjesters · 4 months

Text

Touch-starved Moon

CW// non-sexual touching, teasing, no actual sexual content notes: Sun and Moon are separate animatronics, not mentioned but implied that the reader is already dating the boys A/N: I don't know what to call this, a preview? Snippet? Drabble? Either way, late last night I got on the topic of touch-starved Moon with my friend, which led to me typing up bits at a time to send them. They were my magical muse because I've been having writer's block, so I just find it funny that I wrote up a bunch via Discord messages versus my usual setup...and on my phone of all things. Maybe I'll do this more to try and get out of my writer's block, definitely seems to be doing a better job than forcing myself to write shit up. But yeah, since this was written up on my phone I've gone through and fixed all my 2 am sleepy typos and grammar mistakes, obviously this isn't finished. Again why I said I don't really know how to label it. Maybe with enough interest, I could pick it up and flesh it out a bit more. But it wasn't intended to be this long, just like the first bit then a jump to the reader touching and over-stimming Moon and junk 💀

“Hm, Moonie?” Your hand drifted down his chest plate before giving the elastic of his pants a quick snap.

Moon hummed, gaze still locked on your face. “Yes, star?”

“What did I just say?”

“What?”

“Oh my, Moonpie were you distracted?”

“I was listening.” he hissed. Moon’s chest plate rumbled with annoyance but grew warm under your touch.

“Mhm, and what was I saying?”

Moon froze and sent your hand a glance, watching as your fingers walked their way down his stomach. “D-daycare..”

“Daycare? Mm, that’s a pretty broad topic.”

“Cleaning..” he cleared his throat. “Cleaning the daycare..”

“Moonie… It’s morning, the daycare is already clean.”

Shit.

“Seems like someone hasn’t fully booted up. I’ll overlook it this time, try not to get distracted with the kiddos, okay?”

Moon forced himself not to chase your hand as it left him, forcing out a grunt in agreement.

“Well,” you stretched and turned to look out into the daycare. “I’m gonna go find Sunny and ask him for his thoughts on what I said.”

He flinched. Did you ask him for his thoughts on something? For the daycare? Moon held back a whimper as you left, crimson eyes trailing the hand you used to touch him, now being used to wave Sun down. The same hand used to touch him now rested against Sun, and it made his chest ache and stomach churn.

Why did you stop touching him?

The rest of the morning was spent with the feeling of eyes on you. Every curious glance resulted in catching Moon’s gaze on you instead of the children he was supposed to be tending to. And without fail, every time he was caught he’d look away and find a way to excuse himself to a different place in the daycare.

By nap time the staring didn’t let up, even Sun had commented, questioning why Moon was so out of it and staring at you.

Moon silently stewed in his emotions, irritated at every touch between you and Sun. You’d yet to touch him again, in fact, you’d gone out of your way to avoid touching him.

During lunchtime, you’d made sure to avoid his touch while handing out the lunch trays, only to touch Sun’s by “accident”.

What made Sun so special? Was it because he’d spaced out earlier? Were you upset? Oh, what he wouldn’t give to be in Sun’s place right now.

Should he apologize? If he was going to he needed to think fast, you’d turn away from Sun and were headed straight for…him?

“Hey Moonpie.” You whispered, careful of the sleeping children, and sat beside him on the floor keeping a decent distance between the two of you. “Feeling better?”

Moon’s voice box rumbled. “Peachy.” Despite the darkness, he could see the gap between the two of you clear as day. Normally you’d sit on his lap with him during nap time while Sun took to doing a mid-day clean up.

“Is that so? I’m glad.”

The glow-in-the-dark stars of the nap room alongside Moon’s dimly lit eyes gave you just enough lighting to see the gap between you two. His leg twitched and you took to distracting yourself to look at a nearby napping child—time to see how the event from this morning would unfold.

The two of you sat in silence aside from the music box playing away in Moon’s chest. Careful to keep your eyes elsewhere, you’d occasionally catch the gap between the two of you growing smaller and smaller.

“What do you think of a sleepover tonight?”

Moon flinched, pausing mid-movement to process the question. “Sleepover? Tonight?”

“Mhm, I talked it out with Sun. Use the theater room and get pillows and blankets to cuddle up together.”

Harsh red lights lit up your face, nearly blinding you and risking waking the children. You slapped a hand over his eyes and they instantly dimmed. Well, that’s new.

You’d c-cuddle them? Of course, you’d done that before but that was…well before his current predicament. No, wait focus.

Your hand lingers on his eyes despite the light dimming, watching those tiny pinprick pupils stare at your hand. Oh right, it probably doesn’t feel great having someone’s hand on your eyes.

Before your hand can fully pull away and lose all contact Moon grabs it, shifting it to his cheek instead. It’s at that moment you feel his leg touch yours…he closed the gap you’d intentionally placed between the two of you.

Such a touchy little Moonpie.

#fnaf #fnaf security breach #fnaf sb #five nights at freddy's #fnaf dca #moon fnaf #moondrop fnaf #moon x reader #fnaf daycare attendant #daycare attendant x reader #sun fnaf #sundrop fnaf #sun x reader

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akanemnon · 4 months

Note

ALRIGHT, over the last week I've been binge-reading this entire series from start to finish, and I've gotta say you've got me hooked. Love where it's going so far! With that in mind, I've got a couple questions I'm curious about. No worries if they're in spoiler-territory and can't be shared, though!

1: so, since Kris and Frisk can see UI elements like their inventory, does this mean they could see the save menu and its save data, too? And if so, did Kris learn anything of interest from it?

And 2: I stumbled across a past ask that mentioned Kris's player has a similarly playful gremlin disposition... Does this mean Kris basically had a mutual prank war going with them? Were there any particularly funny moments where they messed with each other for a joke? Because ngl the idea of Kris deciding to fight God and win via prank war is probably a lot funnier to me than it should be.

Hey, thank you so much! Super happy you're enjoying the comic so much!! As for your questions...

The two of them are definitely aware of their save files. At the start of Deltarune when you encounter your first save point you can actually see that Kris already has a save file that they created on their own. But you end up overwriting it with your name that you typed in during the vessel creation section. As for the menu interface thing, they probably see the whole layout in a kind of a daydream like setting. For when the Player turns of the game and does something else. It would be just a second for them, while in reality it is much longer.

Kris sees their Player as a (so far) benevolent bully. The Player hasn't made them do anything bad per se, but Kris is clearly reacting much stronger to having someone take control of their body. This is most likely due to actually having experienced a normal life before being possessed (unlike Frisk, who doesn't remember it). In the game you see them manipulating the Player's choices either by the tone of their voice, or how they sometimes look away or close their eyes when the Player wants to look at something that relates to their family. Kris has their own way with dealing with bullies. This is more apparent when you read through Noelle's secret blog posts that go deeper into how Susie used to try and bully them.

#ask #twin runes #kris dreemurr #frisk

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kodaiki · 2 years

Text

୭̥⋆*｡ 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: during the summer following your senior year of high school, you find yourself drawn to the family video rental store nearly weekly. sure, you claim it’s due to the incessant determination to rent the breakfast club but maybe seeing the cute worker across the counter is a bonus, too.

wc: 4.5k

genre/tags: post season 3, pre season 4, fluff, slight humor, makeout session, mutual pining, friends to lovers, ft. robin!

it's a hot summer day, evident by the sweat that sticks to the family video worker's neck. the air conditioner's been busted, leaving the store to fend off the heat wave with other means. there's a rusty fan in the corner of the store, only aiding in blowing hot air around so, really it's no help.

steve harrington decides he hates his job.

"is it here?" you don’t even greet the man properly when you burst through the video store's door, causing a harsh jingling sound from the bell over your head, making you flinch in slight apology.

never mind, maybe he doesn’t totally hate his job.

steve, pausing from sorting through his cart of tapes, looks up at your eagerness, “hey y/n, how are you, how’s your day going?”

his chide remark makes you roll your eyes as you slouch. “hi steve, i’m good, it’s hot out, how about you?” you response monotonously, itching to get your hands on the tape you’ve been waiting weeks for.

“could be better if our air conditioner wasn’t busted.”

“that sucks.” you can’t help but feel for the guy, working in a stuffy store and tending to greedy customers like yourself. “so, is it here?”

steve only shakes his head with a snap of his fingers. "nope."

"what- you said the last customer's due date was today!" you huff, quickly striding up to him, deep frown on your face.

coming out of the back room, curious about the commotion from the front, robin buckley quietly peers through the shelves, looking suspiciously – and maybe a tad bewildered – between her coworker and you, a somewhat familiar stranger she hadn't had a pleasure of meeting.

"yeah," he answers with a nod as if it were obvious. "too bad you were just late enough to lose it to its next customer."

"this wait is making me wanna watch the breakfast club less and less," you mutter out dryly, crossing your arms.

"hey, since you're here, how 'bout a compromise?" the man quickly digs into his cart, pulling out a familiar case. "we just got sixteen candles back."

you take a glance at the redhead on the top of the tape’s cover standing between two men. "i've already seen it."

steve harrington is different than you remember, you observe as you give him a look over, busy shuffling through other tapes in search of something that'd satisfy you.

from what you recall, in high school, he was sort of a dick; well, until miss girl-next-door nancy wheeler stumbled into his life. you recall the whispers and gossip down the halls regarding the couple and most specifically, that guy she's – well, from what you've heard – dating now, jonathan byers.

you didn't really focus on that aspect of high school; you simply sought to excel and get out of your small town for bigger things.

funny, you can't help but laugh to yourself as you recall your practically stable job on main street that'll probably keep you in hawkins 'til you're so old and wrinkly, you forgot you wanted to leave in the first place.

regardless, steve, he's different now. you can't exactly put your finger on it, but he's certainly not the same jock and king steve he was called in high school.

not that you minded.

this steve – the one currently grumbling about how picky you are – is kind of a dork.

you like that.

"i'll take the sixteen candles." you end his torment graciously, smile curling up your face at the way he hangs his head dramatically low into the cart, relieved by your words.

"you like seeing me in misery?"

you lightly laugh at that. "maybe i do, harrington."

he stands up straighter, offering the tape for you, only to raise it high when you reach for it. "oi, give it!"

"two can play the misery game, y/l/n."

"you're impossible," you groan as you continue to try and grasp at the tape, reaching up on your tiptoes.

"didn't you call me a lifesaver just a week ago when i had karate kid rented out and lent you it?"

"ugh, do you remember everything i tell you?"

"i remember everything a pretty girl says to me."

his response makes your nose scrunch up, like you've eaten something sour. that sort of answer reminds you of the old coy and shameless steve, but it this light, him in a dorky vest – not as dorky as what you assumed the scoops ahoy uniform looked like – his flirtation didn't go unwelcome. if anything, it caused the roll of a somersault in your stomach.

"ew," you recover, hiding your flushed face by shaking it and waving a hand in front of you, playing it off as the summer heat, "you really are a huge flirt."

steve only laughs a little bashfully at that, maybe surprised by his own suaveness. he gestures you to follow him to the counter, where he types something on the computer, leaving you to shift on your heels as you wait.

truthfully, steve didn't know where that came from. sure, he thought of himself as a flirt but given his poor record as of recently, he didn't expect a somewhat accepting reaction out of you.

okay fine, you said, ew, but it wasn't near as embarrassing as girls flat out laughing at him or rejecting him.

it's strange, using a line on you, steve can't help but think as he subtly glances over at you as you look around the video store. he never saw you in that sort of light in high school, since your were usually hiding behind a book or sitting too far in the front of the room to notice you.

you weren't popular, but not necessarily unpopular either. you were obviously one of the smart ones, but not one of the ones who caught the eye of a certain jock. by the time you started tutoring steve, he'd already been dating nancy so everything was purely platonic.

time really does change a lot, he agrees.

"there you go," he says after clearing his throat.

"thanks steve." your teasing tone is gone now, replaced with pure sincerity, a pretty smile on your face that makes him want to stare a little longer.

"try again next week," he says, maybe a little too eagerly but it doesn't seem you catch it. "for the breakfast club, i mean."

you sigh at that, a humorous one, "we'll see. i’ll probably be around sooner than that to return this.” you offer a smile, waving sixteen candles in your hand.

as soon as the bell jingles a final time, signaling you've left, robin appears out of nowhere, leaning over the store counter with wide eyes.

“who was that?” she asks, minor bewilderment written on her face as she flits her gaze between steve and the door you just walked out of.

“hm? oh, that’s y/n,” steve answer easily with a lazy shrug, turning away from the computer.

“and how do you know y/n?” robin asks and her voice lilts a little accusingly as she raises an eyebrow. your face seemed familiar to her so she could only assume you were a graduated student from hawkins high, but it was the fact that steve knew you that piqued her interest.

steve looks her over with half-suspicion but answers anyway. “she tutored me in math during senior year, are you done?”

“if i had my dry erase board with me, i think i’d tick off you latest interaction in between the margins of you rule and you suck.”

steve verbally laughs at that, like it’s an actually funny joke robin had told him and not a half assed compliment, half insult his way. “funny.”

“i’m serious! i really thought your reputation of being a flirt was a fluke and you have no game.”

steve deadpans at that. "she's in here nearly every week, how are you just noticing her today?" he decides to deflect blaming her for her lack of awareness of your presence.

"she must be around during my breaks or something because i swear i've never seen her before. didn't know you had a crush, stevie. to be honest, i feel a little betrayed."

"i do not have a crush on her," he quickly answers, a little defensively by how quick he was to shoot her down. "she's just a usual customer that i know well enough to joke around with."

he definitely has a crush.

"joke around with," robin repeats, looking up in deep thought. she looks back down, clearly unimpressed. "sure, if joking around is code for shamelessly flirting."

"that was not flirting." steve knows that's a lie, still attempting to calm the ways his nerves are buzzing from a mere conversation with you, but he hopes robin doesn't.

"i watched the whole thing," she monotones.

"you were eavesdropping, you stalker?" he looks at her like she's crazy, but granted, he should be used to this by now.

"there's no one else in the store. you're my only form of entertainment."

the following week you arrive at the video store, steve can't fight off the beam on his face as you enter.

"hey," you greet glumly as you tread toward the counter where steve's standing. you smile anyway but he can tell it doesn't reach your eyes.

almost immedieatly, a frown replaces his smile and he quits toying with the vhs tape underneath the counter to cross his arms over it, leaning toward you in concern.

"what's wrong?"

what could’ve possibly gone wrong in the few days since you returned sixteen candles and today?

your nose twitches at the fact he read you so easily but you slouch your shoulders anyway. "i don't think i'll be able to rent more movies for a while."

his eyebrows furrow in confusion, tilting his head to the side. big brown eyes stare into your eyes and if it weren't for your poor mood, you'd probably melt on the spot.

"my dad, he's still job searching since starcourt burned down," you mumble, "i'm lucky enough to work on main street but i don't think his unemployment would be enough for the mortgage so i should chip in."

"i'm sorry," steve sighs with a frown. he remembers how angry the town was when starcourt was built in the first place, family run businesses being put out of business but now, it seems everyone's in the same boat.

"s'alright. i just thought i could be a careless kid for a little while longer."

memories of fireworks and the mind flayer pop into steve's mind, guilt seeping into his stomach even though he really has no reason to feel that way.

for an entirely different reason, steve wishes he could be a careless kid, too. not someone who has a constant dreading feeling about another dimension wreaking havoc on his own.

"i get it," he says. "why'd you come anyway even though you don't wanna rent?"

then a shy smile reaches your lips.

from behind him, stave hears a harsh whisper of, "you, dingus!" he turns quickly at that, only for the certain strawberry blonde to twirl around as if she wasn't eavesdropping on your conversation. robin's lucky you don't seem to notice, as you still ponder your answer while staring down at your shows.

"i'm so used to coming every week. believe it or not, harrington, but you're one of the constants of my week."

his heart pounds against his ribcage.

you're a constant of his week, too; the highlight if he's being honest.

"yeah?" he asks, leaning further on the counter, hoping that what you're saying is insinuating what was (cruelly) whispered to him from behind, "you're in luck then."

"hm?" you hum, raising an eyebrow in genuine curiosity. "why?"

"because look what i've got." and then there's a thud on the coutner, revealing the movie you've only been waiting to see for weeks. glee fills your system for a few seconds before being replaced with dread.

"of course it's available once i can't spend my money."

"it's on me."

you blink up at the man, shaking your head slightly. "what?"

"take it, really. i've only been hearing you complain about it not being here, it's only fair."

"no, no, i shouldn't-"

"i already rented it out," steve cuts you off, looking away briefly. "so either it'll sit in my car, or you can watch and enjoy."

it's the truth. once the last customer returned the rental, steve quickly used his own cash to rent it before someone else could even try. he'd expected you to offer to pay him back which he still would've denied but now, it seems like it was truly fated for him to rent it for you.

"steve," you trail off.

"y/n," he replies in a stern tone.

"you know i'll want to pay you back-"

"after you gave that story? no way, y/n," he quickly shakes his head in dismissal.

"i really can't take this," you mumble, playing with the edge of the tape box. you stare at it for a few seconds before an idea pops into your head. "do you want to watch it with me?"

his eyebrows furrow at that. "huh?"

an audible slap, oddly sounding like a facepalm, is heard further back in the store.

"i mean, i'd feel bad for robbing you so if you watch the movie with me, i wouldn't feel as guilty!"

oh, steve blinks.

"i… uh.”

“too weird? i know you haven’t been over since high school so it’s cool-“

you’re backtracking, steve soon realizes as you attempt to wave off your invitation. he frowns at the fact that you took his stammers as rejection.

“no, no, i’d like to come over,” he quickly says, cutting you off effectively. you head nods up in slight surprise, but then you smile, relieved.

“you remember where i live, right?”

“i was only there every thursday,” he scoffs out a laugh, nodding.

“great, so swing by around seven?”

“seven’s good,” he agrees, rocking on the balls of his feet. it isn’t until you leave the store that he buries his head into his arms, already brainstorming what he should wear.

at seven on the dot, steve shuffles on his feet as he stands in front of your home’s entrance. he's been to your home countless times, having studied there when you tutored him, so it’s a rather familiar sight, yet at the same time nostalgic. he glances around the exterior, as if searching for any changes your family may have made but as it seems, it looks just the same.

what steve thinks differently though is that beside your window, there's a tall tree with thick branches, conveniently placed as an escape or sneak-in route had you had a rebllious bone in your body. he's almost a hundred percent sure you never used the tree for that reason.

steve wonders if only his crush on you blossomed earlier, back when you were both in high school, would he climb the tree to reach your bedroom? would he reach over and knock on your bedroom window like he did with nancy? if he were the way he is now but in high school, would you have been on his radar instead?

a sinking feeling fills his chest at the mystery of the unknown; the mystery of what could've been.

there's no time for steve to dwell on it any longer because the fornt door is pulled open, revealing you, with that signature smile on your face that he can't seem to get enough of.

"sorry if i made you wait long, i was setting up the living room."

steve feels a little antsy entering your home this time. he has to keep reminding himself that he's been here before and theres no reason to be so damn nervous but considering his different feelings, he can't calm the beating of his heart.

"parents home?"

you shake your head.

oh perfect, steve's stomach only does more queasy things that make him feel weird.

"they should be back in the morning,” you continue aimlessly as you guide him to the living area, set up with some snacks on the table and your tv set already on.

“cool,” is all he replies, mentally facepalming at such a lane answer.

“all I gotta do is push the tape in so just get comfy,” you says, crouching in front of the tv.

by the time the movie’s in and playing, you’re sitting beside steve, leaving some room between the two of you. you feel a little awkward at first, not ever having this sort of hangout with him since you were usually at the kitchen table, correcting his homework.

it’s a nice change.

well, obviously, because of your raging crush on the guy.

you feel too stiff for a while, glancing over at him to see if he notices. he seems generally comfortable, leaned into the corner of the couch and his legs manspreaded slightly.

this is your home after all, so you get comfortable as well, scooting your body over and relaxing your stature a little more.

"am I hogging the couch?” steve asks, genuinely concerned.

“no, no! i’m just getting more comfy.”

“you can scoot close to me, i don’t mind.”

your heart thumps in your chest as you move closer to the man, fitting your back in one of the worn creases of your sofa, well accustomed to the dips of other individuals and yourself on it.

“better?” he asks softly, glancing over at you.

your eyes widen a little bit at that and you nod slightly. “yeah, thanks.”

you’re not paying attention the movie much, you realize at the midway point, you’re far too distracted at the small distance between you and steve on the couch.

you’re shameless in your staring after a while, simply watching his reaction to film in front of you: the furrow of his brows, the dips and raises of his lips at a particular screen, the way his nose scrunches.

you almost hate how attractive he is.

“you alright there?” he asks without bothering to flit his face to you. “you’ve been watching me for a while.”

“sorry!” you squeak, shifting your head back to facing the television. of course he’d notice! you weren’t exactly being subtle.

“do i got crumbs on my mouth or something?” he asks sincerely, slightly knitting his brows together at your sudden shyness.

“no, no, i was just uh, looking at you.”

it’s the ambience that’s making you so honest, you believe. the lights off with nothing but the television. lighting your faces, the quiet summer night, only chirps of crickets being heard outside, the fact that you’re alone, it’s all adding to your honestly.

steve glances over at you and even in the dim light, he can see your embarrassed and flustered expression. he decides to answer based on his gut feeling.

“yeah?” he muses, leaning slightly toward you in slight amusement.

you swallow at that, looking at him through your lashes as your chin dips slightly into your neck. “uh-huh, you’re uh…”

“hm?” he hums, urging you to continue.

“you’re pretty,” you murmur as you gaze at his thick locks, down to his cheekbones and then landing on his pouty lips. “not like girly pretty but you know like, handsome pretty-“

“you’re pretty, too.” he smiles at you.

you thought cupid struck you months ago but it appears he shot you a second time in that moment.

“oh, thanks,” you murmur bashfully, looking away from his intense stare.

steve gently brings a hand up, taking your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, guiding you to look at him. your breath hitches as he holds your face in his hand, doing nothing but gaze at your face.

“is this okay?” he asks as he cradles the side of your face with his right hand, gently rubbing the pad of his thumb along your cheek, feeling the warmth from the flush of your face.

you only nod with a hum, eyelashes fluttering slightly against his movements. eventually your eyes close, giving him full permission to simply observe you.

he could stay like this forever, he thinks, watching your face while he caressed your cheek, a blush of his own painting his cheekbones.

during a breath out, he notices your lips part slightly and suddenly his gaze is zeroed in on your lips, fighting off the urge to graze at them with his thumb.

your stomach does a tumble at his ministrations but you don’t want him to stop. in fact, you’re craving for more.

so, you open your eyes, lidded downward into a squint as you look at him through the dimly lit room, all thanks to your tv set. steve stares back at you expectantly, maybe expecting you to pull away and return to the movie that’s just about over.

“kiss me.” it’s a soft request, one that makes your heart bang against your chest in anticipation, yet fear at the same time. this could quite possibly be the most embarrassing moment of your life if you’re rejected.

steve doesn’t waste another second, though, fully leaning into you, molding his lips over yours in haste. his kiss sucks the breath out of you truthfully, making you lunge right back into him and gripping the front of his t-shirt.

his other hand flies to your neck, angling you slightly, deepening the kiss. the movie’s long forgotten as your left hand reaches up to touch the soft locks you’ve secretly wanted to run your hands through for ages now.

you smile slightly against his lips, maybe in amusement of the surreality of the situation. never did high school you think you would’ve ever been in this sort of situation with the man in front of you.

similarly, steve’s heart is in shambles as he does everything to keep you glued to him, hands trailing down to your waist and tugging you closer to him to the point of mounting his lap.

never did he think that one of his grade’s brainiacs would be caught dead sucking faces with someone they’d probably think didn’t have any sort of future rolled out.

you’re kissing for a while, well until the credits of the movie are rolling down the screen, yet neither of you bother to so much as separate for more than a mere second.

by the time your lips are swollen and you’re gasping for breath, his head is squished onto the sofa cushion, you eagerly on top of him as his hands grasp at your hips, occasionally brushing along your back.

“shit, what time is it?” you mumble, voice a little hoarse, as you sit up above him.

steve doesn’t care about the time really, only leaning his body upward to chase your lips once more. he kisses you beside your lips, pecking lightly against your jaw and you laugh, shifting slightly when he kisses a sensitive spot below your ear.

“okay, no seriously, shouldn’t you be getting home before it gets too late?”

he sighs at that, head hanging solemnly in agreement, pressing against your shoulder. “yeah,” he murmurs, voice muffled against your shirt.

“i’ll see you tomorrow to return the tape,” you promise, pecking the side of his head, smiling at the smell of his shampoo. it’s a warm, fuzzy feeling that’s buzzing through you and you’re afraid it won’t ever go away.

then again, if steve’s the reason for it, you don’t think you mind.

“i’ll hold you to that,” he grumbles, still a little glum to be leaving you. “we didn’t even finish the rest of it.”

“i have a feeling we won’t ever finish a movie together,” you grin up at him as he stands from your couch, instinctually running a hand through his hair, which is in a little disarray from your doing.

“that’s a cheeky observation.”

“is it wrong?” you can’t help but ask, dopey smile on your face.

steve smiles at that, leaning down to be at eye level with you. “no.” and then he gives you a chaste kiss to your lips. “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

you quickly follow him out, bidding him a good night as he walks over to his car, and watching him drive off while leaning against the door frame, that same lovesick grin never leaving your face.

funnily enough, steve’s lovesick smile never left his face either.

“how was movie night?” robin pipes during their next shift together.

“it was fine,” steve answers simply, hiding the blush on his cheeks from the memory of the night before.

“fine,” she deadpans. “all of that flirting for just fine? maybe you are hopeless, harrington.”

before steve can fire something back, the jingle of the storefront alerts your entry and immediately, steve whips his head around to meet your gaze with his.

you wave the tape at him, walking toward him with a smile. “hey,” you greet easily, though still feeling all the buzzing nerves you felt the night prior. you could play it cool and pretend like everything that happened last night didn’t affect you as much as it did, but given you were practically up all night squealing into your pillow and kicking your feet, you don’t think you’d be a very good actor.

“hey,” he answers softly, holding out his hand. “what movie do you want today?”

“very funny,” you scowl playfully as you hand it over. “just returning this one.”

“just returning?” steve asks, playful lilt to his voice, making you squeeze your eyes shut. how you’ll ever act the same around steve will be an ongoing difficulty.

“yes, and i think I scrounged up enough change to pay for it-“

“i think i have better payment,” he says thoughtfully making your eyebrows raise in curiosity.

“oh?”

steve simply pokes his cheek a few times, turning one side toward you. you can’t help but roll your eyes in amusement at his brazenness.

“you’re really something, ain’t ya?” but you indulge him anyway, leaning over to peck his cheek sweetly, only to pull away with a slightly flustered expression from the pda. and then steve turns his cheek the other way.

“one more.”

“you’re impossible,” you huff with a laugh but lean in anyway, only to squeak when steve turns his cheek at the last second, connecting his lips with yours.

“i think you like it,” he whispers when you’re centimeters apart, grinning at the deep flush on your face.

you step back from the counter, covering your face with your hands bashfully. when you feel cool enough to face him again, you give him an awkward, albeit endearing all the same to steve, smile and shoot him some finger guns.

“i’ll see you around, harrington.”

“see you soon, sweetheart.”

and then you’re rushing out, most likely to run home and scream into your pillow once more.

steve can’t help the smile on his face as he checks the tape back into the system, only pausing when he feels a stare straight at his temple. he looks up to face robin’s accusatory, yet amused, expression.

“your night was just fine, hm?”

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