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tojisun · 2 days

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hockey player simon pt 03 // part of this plot // mlist

i swear it was just supposed to be a drabble w no plot

jo heaves a sigh the moment you slide in front of her, and you would have been insulted if it wasn't for the gentle smile she gives right after. still, she's staring at you with that teasing tilt of her lips and her eyes narrowed in humour, one that you're not privy to.

"what?" you finally bite out, fiddling with your iced coffee, feeling self-conscious.

you fleet your eyes to yourself and, yeah, sure you're wearing the same pants as yesterday’s but c'mon? you didn't get to go back to your place after, well...

at least you didn't repeat your top, and is instead wearing a sweater you've stolen from simon's closet. cashmere, cream and soft, and the material comfortable, if not a little bit loose in the arms that droop past your fingers.

you thought you at least looked like those typical college students in the movies—effortlessly chic in a boyfriend sweater, if not a little haggard because who is not when in university?

she finally chuckles, the thrum of her voice easing up the frown that tugged your brows together. “don’t sweat it, superstar. it’s just that i’m still not used to seeing you be a sugar baby.”

you choke mid-sip, her words devouring you like an angry tide. you feel your eyes water in protest, the feeling burning as you sputter.

“i’m not–!”

“you’re not what?” tim asks, sliding into the seat beside yours.

you grumble, wagging a finger as you wipe your stained chin with your other hand. jo snorts and fills him in, chuckling all the while as she gestures at your sweater because she knows it couldn’t possibly have been yours.

tim’s smile turns cheeky, teasing, and he wiggles his brows at you.

“shut up, oh my god,” you whine, rolling your eyes at them, almost shyly, and you feel your cheeks warming. “i’m not– simon’s not my–”

“oh c’mon, babe,” jo says, playfully throwing her mechanical pencil at you. you huff before chucking it back at her, giggling to yourself when it bounces off her arm and rolls into the floor.

tim picks it up for her.

“he buys you expensive things—” her eyes flit to the new promise ring that you’re wearing. you unconsciously hide it behind your palm. “and pays for your tuition which i’m so, so jealous of.”

“doesn’t he fly you around too? in a private jet or something?” tim pipes up, shamelessly snagging away your iced coffee now that you’re too preoccupied to drink it.

“he doesn’t!”

twin brows quirk up in silent judgement.

“…he buys us first class tickets, not, like, a whole jet.”

see? they seemed to say with the way they cock their heads to the side.

you sniff. “it’s for work,” you mumble, remembering the first time simon flew you for his games.

“i mean, for him, maybe. but you? tell me what business do you have in winnipeg?” tim chirps and you almost want to jump him just to make him shut up.

“sugar baby,” jo finishes, singing. “but i mean, who can blame him, huh?” she grins, her voice dipping into a faux southern accent. “i’d spoil you too, sugar.”

“oh, you flirt,” you trill, taking the opening she offers to change the topic.

tim takes the bait and whines about how jo doesn’t do all those things for him, but jo is unmoved, eyeing you knowingly, but thankfully drops it too.

it’s just—

there’s a whole stigma to athlete’s girlfriends. for god’s sake, they even have a whole label—puck bunny—which is honestly just a dig made up by really shitty men who burn with jealousy . and you know that, but—

you can’t help but wonder if some, not all, of simon’s love for you is because of what you do to him. of what you give him in return. especially since he’s so busy all the time, either flying during the season and is rarely home, or packed with training and other physical regimen during the offseason.

so you wonder if this—flying you with him on the days the official WAGs are not being flown by the franchise, bringing you to vacation spots on the other side of the ocean, buying you everything you used to only dream of ever having—was his way of paying you back for your support and patience and care and love.

tim knocks his shoulder with yours, worry now lining his boyishly charming face.

“y’alright?”

“of course.” you lick your lips. “so did you ever get a copy of the lab sheet from rayan?”

you watch from the front seats as the team wrap up practice tonight, their coach looking pleased at their performance. it was still difficult to follow the game, but the players all look content too despite the sweat and their ragged breathing.

they never did know how to hold back even during a practice.

you say your goodbyes to the other people who came to watch, shooting simon a text that you’ll be waiting for him in the parking lot, and walk out.

the cashmere sweater, thankfully, is enough to fight off the cool air and the gentle breeze while you make your trek to simon’s distinct range rover, all sleek and pure black like he’s got the damn royals for a passenger.

it’s locked so you hover outside, stuffing your hands in the pockets of your pants, and entertained yourself with making puffs of air like you’re ten again. it’s honestly not too bad to be alone, if it weren’t for the sudden swarming of your doubts—the very same ones you thought you already shrugged off before taking the cab to the rink.

fuck.

“hey, love,” simon’s voice pierces through your thoughts and you jump, barely smothering the yelp that almost tore itself from the base of your throat.

you swivel, heart pounding, and simon’s beautiful face creases into one of concern.

“are you–”

“si!” you greet, jogging to him.

he laughs and opens his arms for a hug, one that you excitedly give him. you tuck your cold face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in, taking in the antiseptic scent of rink soap and the faint smell of his shampoo.

his body is so warm against yours, and you can’t help but melt in his hold, body relaxing at the comfort he brings you.

“you ready to go home?” he asks like the insinuation that his home is also yours is not heart-stopping and world-changing.

you nod, unable to trust your voice right now.

there’s something different whenever it’s just you and simon—your thoughts, for once, are quiet and your confidence in yourself peaking like simon is the only place in this world where you can truly be yourself. it’s not just indulgence, nor tolerance, but it’s pure unadulterated acceptance.

and maybe it’s because of that realization, that flipped switch, that in the lull of your conversation with simon, you bring it up.

“did you know? my friends think that you’re my sugar daddy.”

you feel him freeze, body going rigid as your words spill into the space between you two. you continue to hide your face away from, avoiding a serious conversation as regret begins to build, shame licking up from your fingertips to your ears.

stupid, you think to yourself. why the hell did i bring it up? fuck—

then, simon laughs, soft and sputtering, his whole body shaking as he giggles, choked wheezes uncontainable. you tip your head up just enough to catch his eyes, questions filling your tongue, waiting to be spilled, but simon cups your cheek so tenderly before you could doubt anything any more.

“do i need to be one to spoil you rotten?” he asks like he didn’t just shaken the foundations of your doubts.

do i need to be one to spoil you rotten, he said like spoiling you was the norm. like showering you with expensive gifts and booking you expensive flights and helping you with your expensive necessities was something that boyfriends typically do. like your friends are the odd ones for thinking he had to be anything other the man you’re dating to be able to splurge for you.

“no,” you say, dizzy with the weight of your affections.

simon’s smile droops, his eyes clearing. “was that something that honestly worried you?”

“i–”

the humour leaves him, and simon straightens up at seeing the gravity of the turmoil in your heart. his hands fall to your sides, thumbs hooked in the dip of your hips. he leans forward until his nose is brushing against yours.

“you know i love you, right?” simon asks, his voice quaking in desperation.

“yeah,” you sniffle, honest because god you mean it. “yeah, si. i know.”

“okay,” he says after a while, still intensely looking at you like you aren’t surely anything but a blob in his eyes with how close you two are pressed to each other.

then, his lips brush with yours, so faint, you almost missed it. you shudder at the feeling of it—how could a chaste kiss feel so intense?—your lips wobbling as something in your heart bloats.

you feel simon’s lips stretch into a grin from where they’re ghosting above yours, and then he’s kissing you again, this time deeper and longer. you curl your arms around his neck, feeling like you’re being swept off your feet all over again.

because simon is not good with words, truly, but he’s managed to swing an axe to the cornerstone of your self-doubt and made it crumble.

“oh god,” jo sobs in your arms, the two of you snuggled up under your sheets. “that was a joke! i promise!”

“i know,” you say, giggling. “i swear jo, it’s not you, it’s me.”

she looks up at you, eyes shimmering with tears. “are you sure?”

“yeah,” you croon, bumping foreheads with her. “...‘sides, simon’s taking me somewhere to make up for, and i quote, ‘making you doubt how serious i am about you’.”

she sniffs. “…permission to make a joke again?”

you grab your plushie from somewhere behind you and smack her ass with it.

“ow!”

“stop being dramatic—that didn’t hurt.”

[giggles nervously] so uh. 🏃🏻

#hockey au #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #cod x reader #f!reader #suns #guys. guys forgive me for my super self indulgence again 😭#this ones long-ish again whew boy

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papaya-twinks · 3 days

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italian blood - l.n

Warnings: Age Gap!

Pairing: Lando Norris x antonelli!fem!reader

Summary: Lando falls for Kimi’s twin sister

Kimi’s 20 in this, in order for his twin, y/n, to be 20 too. I also made 2025 into 2024 because idk what’s going on and it makes sense to me

You and Kimi were some of the closest siblings ever - going through each and every formula together, almost like a duo act. And now, with rumours circling of your brother joining F1, you couldn’t not be happy, but you also couldn’t not be hit with a tinge of jealousy. You’d been just as good, if not better, than Kimi, winning an extra F2 title than him.

“Ciao, Kimi, Y/N,” Charles said, seeing the two of you walk down the pit lane, suits hanging low in your waist, having just finished your final practice. “Hey Charles,” you said, waving at him, “a word?”. The Monegasque nodded shortly as you waved off your brother, following the older driver into his garage. “How’s it going?” he asked, watching as you slumped against one of the tables. “Merda (shit),” you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Y/N, Y/N,” he said, sounding reassuring, “it will simply take time. I’ve put in my word to Fred and Carlos can vouch. Simply putting an Italian in an Italian, well, eh?” he nudged you as you shrugged. “Surely that’s what you want, no?” you asked, eyebrow raised. “Mon dieu (my god), Y/N, the meeting is it a few minutes,” Charles sighed, “let us wait til then,”. And you did so, a few bits of small talk with some engineers before moving to talk to Carlos. And then, you were called in.

“Y/N, Y/N,” Fred ushered you and his drivers into his office as you sat down. “I’m sure you see the position I am in, yes?” he confirmed as you nodded warily. You weren’t quite sure what he was getting at, but nodded anyways, in order to speed up the situation. “We have a variety of options for Carlos’ replacement,” he continued, “Hamilton, perhaps,”.

Wow, he was really pushing you to the edge. “And?” you said, expecting for him to tell you the outcome. “We’ve decided,” he spoke slowly, “to sign you one year,” your eyes widened, “to see how you are,”. Scrambling out your chair, you nodded before rushing out the office, finding Charles. “You got it?” the Monegasque asked, eyes wide at your reaction. “You bet!” you shrieked, throwing your arms round your friend.

And shortly after that, a week or so later, Carlos’ departure was announced, but not your arrival. There was no doubt going to be a lot of controversy over a female racer, there already was in F2, let alone F1. The hate you already got for racing in F2 was hard enough to deal with. Of course, Charles knew, and you were allowed to tell a few people you trusted, such as your best friend, Oscar.

“Wait wait,” he shushed you after you explained, “you’re meaning to tell me…MY best friend is gonna get beaten on track by me?”. You snorted at his words. “I believe the words you were looking for were, ‘beating YOU’,”. Oscar raised an eyebrow, following you down the pit lane. “Well, before you join the dark side…or the red side,” the Aussie said, “stay here for a bit,”.

You scrunched your nose at his comment but followed him to his garage anyways, into the motor home behind. “Right, right,” he said, “you’re gonna need to come to this little dinner with a few drivers,”. You raised an eyebrow, “who’s coming?”. Oscar hummed, before counting on his fingers, “Charles, Max, Carlos, me and Lando,”. You knew Max and Charles, jabbing kitted a few times with Max, and you knew Carlos by extension of Charles.

However, Lando was not someone you knew. Besides, you’d never say no to food, who would? So it was arranged, you were going to meet Charles at the elevator before you left together for the fancy ass restaurant. Choosing an outfit that wasn’t too posh but wasn’t too laid back was probably going to be the main challenge. In the end, you settled on a pretty black dress and some platforms, and a bag to finish off the look.

“Hey Leclerc,” you saw your teammate waiting for you. He was wearing a simple shirt and dress trousers, so you were appropriately dressed. “Looking good, Antonelli,” he raised an eyebrow as he went into the elevator with you. You arrived at the restaurant a few minutes before everyone else, see if Carlos and Max in conversation as you sat down, smiling to them.

“Oscar’s on his way, and not sure about Lando,” Max said, handing you a menu. Your conversation was relatively easy and laid back, a few comments about the race before going onto random topics amongst yourselves. Oscar arrived and joined in with you and Charles. The only person left to arrive was Lando. “Finally, mate,” Charles looked up, seeing the young British driver behind me, wearing a white button up shirt, open at the top with a few necklaces, and black dress pants.

“Hey mate,” he leaned over you, before shaking Charles’ hand. You watched as his necklace fell in front of your eyes before he raised an eyebrow at Carlos, gesturing subtly to you. “Ah, Lando,” Charles sai,d realising Lando didn’t know of your job. “This is Y/N,” he introduced you to him, “she’s going to be the new Ferrari driver in ‘24,”. Lando raised an eyebrow, taking in your body and figure, before turning to Carlos.

“She’s your replacement?” he asked the Spaniard, as he nodded. “Right…” he turned back to you, “you have some big shoes to fill,”. You nodded, already aware. “Try to compete with you lot, then,” you shrugged. “Oh Y/N,” Max said with a small smirk, “you can try to compete with us, we’ll be lapping you,” Charles scoffed. “Yeah yeah, don’t get ahead of yourself, this is Ferrari territory,” he huffed.

You rolled your eyes at the boys arguing already before turning to Oscar who was on Lando’s other side. “Help me,” you mouthed, watching Charles on your right as Lando laughed. “You’ll get used to them,” he said sympathetically as the menu was handed to him. The dinner ended up going well, you exchanged number’s with Lando and got on his number. There was no doubt he treated you differently, but it was expected. He almost acted with caution.

“Add her to the group, mate,” Oscar said to Lando as you turned to them. “Well, it comes with a warning label,” he added your contact to it, smiling, “these guys are kinda loony,”. You laughed at his comment, you expected nothing less of the guys around you. “I’m sure you’ll fit in just great,” he nodded to you with a smile. “I hope so,”. The rest of the dinner was finished and Charles drove you home, dropping you to your apartment.

Lando was very nice, he spoke to you a lot, and made sure you felt comfortable, but you had to say, it was a pleasant surprise seeing a text from him already, as soon as you walked into your room.

You grinned at the texts, he was certainly very open to being friends, but the only way to put that to the test would be through racing. You were well aware, throughout other formulas, what competing against your friends could do to your bond with them, and testing the waters now with Lando would be too early. Your train of thoughts was broken by the sound of your phone dinging, a message coming in from your brother.

This was going to be interesting.

Shortly, the 2023 season rolled by, Max winning yet another championship and the seats were announced. Your brother, Kimi, was the new Mercedes driver, and you were the Ferrari driver. Of course, the hate was definite but you only used it to fuel you on and prove them wrong. And finally, you arrived in Bahrain with Charles and testing was to begin.

“The car’s good,” you said, not that you really had much to say, as this was your first F1 car. You were on your 15th lap so far, other drivers behind and in front of you, testing their own cars. “This is good, this is good,” your engineer said over the radio, “we need to box you for new tyres in the next lap, avoid Lando, please,” he said, making you look to your mirror, seeing the orange McLaren behind you.

You turned your head to your right, seeing Lando on your side, a small wave to you as he drove round, going into the next corner. You followed him, you knew it was testing, but a bit of racing wouldn’t hurt, right? “Y/N, what are you doing?” the engineer asked as you sped up, going round Lando on the next corner. You couldn’t see his face or anything, but you could almost sense he understood what you were doing and following you, behind you as he went down the inside on the first corner.

“Y/N, you missed the pit,” your engineer said, “we are not racing Norris,”. You huffed, it was just a bit of fun. “Sorry,” you slowed down, Lando’s car doing the same as he drove alongside you down the back straight. He held his hand up as if to say, ‘what are you doing?’ You shook your head, as if to say, ‘we can’t’. He threw his hand up, exasperated and drove off. You wanted to race him too, but maybe in the next races.

“Y/N Antonelli,” the interviewer smiled to you as you walked into the media pen. You smiled at the full name as he spoke more, “you were rapid on track, setting the fourth fastest time, just behind George, Charles and Lando,”. You grinned again, “Fourth is good an all, but we know a few of the better teams could be sandbagging,” you referred to Max without directly saying it, “and the car’s doing amazing, honestly,”.

The interviewer chuckled before he continued. “On the subject of Lando,” he said, “we saw a bit of wheel to wheel action between you two. This is testing, right?” he joked. You laughed again. “Yeah, well, he went down the inside and I was like ‘why not have some fun’?” you explained, “and he was alright with it, it was just joking around a bit,”. The interviewer hummed, “Is joking around really what should be happening?” he asked, making you raise an eyebrow, “did Lando even do it as a joke, or because you annoyed him?”.

That was the media for you. Creating unnecessary drama, as always. You didn’t say anything, your expression stoic and somewhat pissed. “Good racing, Antonelli,” a voice said behind you, making your cold expression break as you saw Lando. “Have some more of that in the race, yeah?” he shook your hand as you nodded. “Preferably when I’m in front,” you smiled as he clutched his chest. “I’m wounded,” he said dramatically. You shook your head at him.

“To answer your question, I think we both knew it was a joke,” you said triumphantly to the interviewer. This was going to be a very interesting season.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando x reader #f1 #lando norris smut

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thestoryofusstan · 2 days

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Infinity

pairing: college au!harry x reader

summary: The guy next door likes to blast music. You maybe-sorta-kinda really like him.

warnings: cussing, not edited, im not in college idk how it works…

—

You didn’t want to be annoying. Truly, you didn’t. But you and your roommate, Daisy, were asleep.

Or…

Trying to be.

It was difficult with the blasting music next door.

And honestly, you had tried to avoid it. Had let them play their loud music for months now. Sent Daisy over to tell them to shut up so you didn’t have to (because despite her name, she was terrifying when she got mad).

But.. really?

It had to be, like… three in the morning. They’d been blasting it since nine pm, and you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep.

So, clad in your bunny slippers, pajama pants you stole from someone (don’t ask who, you don’t remember) and a Fleetwood Mac shirt four sizes too big (because that was all they had at the thrift store), hair pulled back into a very messy braid, and glasses you rarely wore because you liked yourself better with contacts (mainly because you were so blind your glasses made your eyes look bigger), you stomped on over.

You pounded on the door (not really.. your knock barely made a sound), and miraculously, they heard you and opened the door.

A boy opened it.

No. Not a boy.

A cute boy. A very, very cute boy.

You blinked in surprise. You had expected girls… were boys even allowed on the same floor as girls?

“Ehm.. can I help you?” he asked after you were silent for a little too long.

“Oh. Right. Uh.. would you mind turning the music off? I have a final tomorrow, and.. I’m next door, so.. I can kinda hear it. On full blast. Um.. you don’t have to turn it off.. just.. down..”

He sighed, turning into the dorm to shout, “I told you to turn it down, Lou!” he turns back to you. “Yeah. Sorry. My mate’s practically deaf, I’m pretty sure. Doesn’t realize how loud he is… you say you’re next door?”

You nod.

“You got the alarmingly scary roommate named after a flower?”

Another nod. Why was he making small talk? You wanted to sleep.

“Ah. Glad y’didn’t send her over.”

He eyes you up and down, giving that sentence another meaning you didn’t really like.

"Right. Well.. just.. turn it down, please," you give an awkward smile and nod.

When you turn to walk away, he stops you, "’ey-- little rude to not give me y'name, isn't it?"

"Oh. Uh.. I’m Y/N."

He grins, "Well, hello, Y/N. I’m Harry."

You nod, pursing your lips as you pull on a strand of your hair.

There’s a beat of silence, and you contemplate just throwing yourself off a bridge, honestly.

"I'll see you around, Y/N."

With that, you scurry off to your room. Despite being uncomfortable in the moment, it wasn't because of him. You just were horrid at talking to boys.

A few weeks passed, and you accepted the fact that maybe you wouldn't see your neighbor as much as you hoped you would.

And really, you weren’t surprised. You’d never seen him before, why would that change? It made perfect sense that he remained as elusive as he had apparently always been.

Well, that is, until you were dragged to a party you really didn’t wanna go to in clothes you really weren’t all that comfortable wearing at your house— let alone at some douchey frat party.

The first hour was fine because it was early, so only a handful of people were drunk.

The second hour was less enjoyable, the longer the party went on, the more people drank.

In the third hour, your friends shoved a drink in your hand, and once you finished it, they sucked you into taking far too many shots.

The fourth hour was when you started to get antsy. You were pushing over the edge of just being a little too tipsy, and it was hot and sticky and crowded and had it always been so hard to breathe?

You shoved your way out of the crowd and onto the empty (or so you thought) patio, and exhaled. It was less of a patio and more of a balcony, since it was the second floor— but it was huge. 20 people could comfortably stand on it and not be crowded.

Your heels clack on the concrete as you walk to the edge of the patio, leaning on the railing as you take deep breaths.

“That bad in there?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the familiar british voice. You spin around with wide eyes and a hand over your heart, “Jesus Christ! Don’t do that!”

“Sorry!” he raises his hands in defense. “I thought you saw me!”

“Clearly not!” you pause and take a deep breath, “Sorry— I’m kinda drunk and I hate being drunk. I’m paranoid enough when I’m sober, so when I can’t even walk straight I’m extra jumpy and anxious. And I honestly didn’t even wanna come out tonight, my friends just dragged me along and put me in some ‘going out clothes’ that I don’t think I even have the confidence to wear alone in my dorm! And—“

You pause at his grinning face.

“I’m rambling, aren’t I? Sorry, I get nervous when I’m drunk. Did I already say that? I think I did. Anyway, I talk a lot when i’m nervous, and I don’t really know how to talk to guys in the first place. If I get too annoying just tell me to shut up and I will. I don’t even realize I’m doing it half the— I’m still going. Sorry.”

“No harm done. I quite like your nervous rambling.”

Your cheeks heat up.

“So what made you run for the hills to come out here?” he asks, standing up from the chair he was sitting on.

“I’m not really a party girl.”

“Yeah, I could’ve guessed that.”

You frown, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Not in a bad way!” he rushes out. “But you just.. are a jumpy person, like you said. Like a bunny. I’d be surprised if you went to parties every weekend on your own free will.”

And really— you have to laugh, because he’s right. “Yeah. I’m definitely not a party girl. And I am not the girl who wears this stuff. Not that it’s bad! But.. I’m just not.. comfortable in this,” you shrug, pulling at the short skirt.

The outfit your friends had picked out consisted of a white, very mini mini-skirt, a white cropped tank top, and some black heels. If the skirt was just a little longer, perhaps a little looser, you’d be fine. If you could at least cover up your belly button— you’d always hated it for no real reason except for the fact that, as embarrassing as it sounds, belly buttons freaked you out.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I think you look great,” he smiles.

You probably look like a tomato’s long lost sibling by now.

“Thank you.”

“But.. I also think you look great in pyjamas and bunny slippers and glasses and that little pout telling me my music’s too loud.”

“Hey!” You cross your arms.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he laughs as you try to smack his arm. “So, if you don’t like parties, why’re you here?”

“My friends wanted to go out,” you shrug. “I was done the second we got here.”

He pauses, as if mulling over a thought in his brain and you desperately want to know what, before he speaks, “D’you wanna go home, then?”

You blink at him, “What? I— I mean, yeah. I do, but I’m kinda drunk and all my friends are plastered—“

“I’ll drive you,” he cuts you off before you talk yourself up a wall. “Live next door t’ya anyway.”

“Really? I— are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “Wouldn’t have offered if I was. Let’s get y’out of here.”

The trip to the car took far longer than necessary, mainly because you ran into your friends doing shots and got sucked into one more round, which turned into ten more rounds.

By the time you were done, Harry was half carrying you out. He’d long since looped your arm around his shoulders, and his own arm around your waist as you stumbled towards the car.

“Alright,” he sighed once the two of you finally reached the car. “In you get, love.”

You can’t even stop yourself from grinning ridiculously as he helps you get in the passenger seat and buckle.

He shuts your door and slides into the driver’s seat. You stare at him. He smiles, but doesn’t call you out.

He turns on the radio, and you gasp. “I love this song!”

“Do you, now?” he laughs, and it’s almost teasing. Or, perhaps, it is, and your brain is too fogged up to comprehend that.

“Yes!” you exclaim, turning up the volume as Cruel Summer blasts through his car.

“I’m drunk in the back of the car! And I cried like a baby comin’ home from the bar! Oh, oh!” you sing, extremely off key.

“Quite the singer,” he comments.

“Said I’m fine, but it wasn’t true! I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you! And I snuck in through the garden gate—“

“You’re pretty,” you comment as Harry helps you up the stairs.

“You think so?”

“Yeah. You have nice eyes. And hair. Your hair’s really soft.”

“Don’t think you’ve ever touched my hair, so I’m not sure how you came to that conclusion, babe.”

You grin. Babe. “It looks soft. Duh.”

“Oh, of course. Duh.”

You think he’s teasing you, but you don’t care to tease back or get offended.

“Alright. Where’re your keys?”

“My keys! They’re… with Daisy.”

“No spares?”

“No,” you pout. “Do I have to sleep in the hallway?”

“No, ‘course not,” he shakes his head, pausing. “Ehm.. new plan. Gonna set you up in my bed, yeah? That okay?”

You nod with a hum.

He moves you one door over and fumbles with the key before finally pushing the door open.

“Bed’s right here, love. In you get, c’mon.”

He helps you sit down on the bed, and you rest your head against the wall.

“Hey, hey— don’t sleep yet.”

“Why?” you whine.

“Gotta get you comfy,” he explains, tugging your shoes off. He quickly goes to the dresser before pulling out pants and a shirt.

“You need help changing?”

You frown and nod.

“Alright. I won’t look, love. Promise.”

True to his word, Harry turns you around so your back is to him as he helps you get out of the tank top. He quickly slips the t-shirt over it.

He lays you down on the bed and slaps a hand over his eyes as he pulls your skirt down and helps you into the pants.

“Alright.. better, yeah?”

You nod, lying on the pillow. He helps you under the covers that smell like him and gives you an extra blanket.

“M’kay. Gonna sleep on the top bunk, yeah? Just say my name if y’need me.”

“Thank you,” you mumble.

“‘Course.”

He moves to walk away, but— “Wait, Harry—“

He turns back to you, “What’s wrong?”

You lift a hand up and run it through his hair. “I was right. It’s soft.”

He laughs.

“Go to bed, babe.”

“Sir, yes, Sir.”

He knew you’d probably be embarrassed in the morning, but he wouldn’t tell you that he enjoyed how touchy you got when drunk.

You didn’t plan on telling him that you’d slightly sobered up on the drive home and just played the drunk bit up as an excuse.

And your keys were in your purse.

a/n: YAYYYY COLLEGE AU HARRY!!!

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry fic #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry #college harry #college!harry styles #fbh #lhh #phh #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction

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ozzgin · 3 days

Text

I saw these photos on TikTok (Credited from Doyuin with the ID:981642684) and my oh my, it sent me straight to this scenario. Content: female reader, female yandere, religious themes, horror

Yan! Mother Superior who welcomes all lost souls with open arms. Her kindness and benevolence are known by locals and foreigners alike, her reputation even reaching your ears. Overwhelmed by a longing you've never felt before, you packed your suitcase and left your home.

Once you reached the monastery, the nuns rushed you in without a word. You were taken aback by their swift compliance, despite the fact you never introduced yourself, nor your intentions. "I am no mere guest", you wanted to tell them, "I've come to take my vows, and become one of you." But no one listened.

"Mother had been expecting you", one of them finally confessed piously.

That's when you saw her for the first time. A smile radiating warmth, and a pair of bright, all-seeing eyes. You felt like a child soothed by a Mother's embrace, all worries and anxieties seeping away from your body. You were safe.

Days at the monastery are slow and peaceful. You've become indifferent to the world outside, focusing on prayer, and the wisdom taught by Mother Superior. Despite your newfound faith, however, something tugs at your heart insidiously.

Something isn't right with Mother.

What a blasphemous thought, to doubt her saintliness! Yet you cannot seem to put your suspicions at rest. The other nuns are fearful, the priest becomes pale whenever Mother is present. People seeking refuge between the walls of this sanctuary vanish without a trace. You do your best to hide it, but she knows. Her ardent stare strips you of any secrecy.

One night, when you'd been plagued by nightmares in your small chamber, you dropped your rosary. The beads scattered across the polished floor, and you lowered yourself to gather the pieces. That's when you found it: underneath your bed, deep scratches were clawed over the wooden tiles. Do not look into the eyes.

The recollection creeps into your mind now, as you glance at the priest finishing up the Sunday liturgy. Mother Superior observes the ritual with boredom. The church sinks into silence, and she stands up. The other nuns throw their hands in prayer. With calculated nonchalance, she grasps onto the crozier and plunges it directly into the man's chest.

You throw yourself out of your seat, bewildered, speechless. The chanting continues, blocking out the bubbling heave of the dying man. Mother Superior smiles, satisfied. Thick, warm blood slithers all the way to your feet. You want to crawl, to run, to hide, but your body is stiff.

"For the mountains may depart and the hills be removed,

but my steadfast love shall not depart from you, and my covenant of peace shall not be removed"

You mustn't fear her. For no one will love you with the same devotion, no one will offer you such unadulterated veneration. The nuns abruptly stop their prayer, and scurry outside.

Yan! Mother Superior who ceremoniously lowers the sharp, bloodied end of the crozier over your head. You hold your breath, petrified.

"No man stands above me", she concludes. Her voice is carried by the pillars, echoing across the empty church, shattering against your eardrums in a most unholy coalescence. A shiver cold as death envelops your being, and you're struck by a revelation:

It was not God's hand that led you to her.

#yandere nun #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere female #yandere concept #wlw #horror #tw religious themes

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noveauskull · 2 days

Note

Hellooo, I am am in love and obsessed with the way you write wuwa men 😍😍

May I request Wuwa Men with a reader who's a bit of a cumslut and could not wait until they're back home to get their fill?

How WUWA MEN Deal With You When You're Impatient (NSFW)

-----

characters: geshu lin, jiyan, mortefi, yuanwu, aalto, calcharo, scar x reader

warnings: 18+, smut, overstimulation, penstration (piv), spanking, fingering, oral (f! receiving), cockwarming, tit groping, hickeys, pleasure dom yuanwu

GESHU LIN:

You'd send him photos of yourself and texts saying how wet and desperate you were for him to get home. Knowing fully well he hates it when you get him riled up when he isn't even around you right now, but that just makes you more excited cause it means that he'll fuck you even more harsher than usual.

And that he does. You'd hear someone ringing the doorbell frantically, not letting a single ring finish before another one comes, and you wouldn't help but grin when you open the door, seeing Geshu Lin panting with sweat on his forehead, his tie loose and the coat of his suit on his arm.

"Strip. Now."

He'd make you cum for hours and hours on end, all the pent up stress he had from work would be pummeling into your soaking wet gaping hole. His cum filling you to the brim, and your ass red from all the spanks he's been giving you for disturbing his work.

"You're such a dirty slut. I'll fuck a week's worth into you so that you won't disturb me again"

-----

MORTEFI:

When you send Mortefi text messages of how needy you were, he'd reply with a simple "Don't worry, I'll be home soon so hold on, okay?", and that'd make you so frustrated cause you need him now, yet his best responses were so calm and collected.

However that's what his texts looked like, it turns out that when you're finally on the bed with him, his cock is drilling into you nonstop. You could barely gasp for air when he keeps going, no matter how much you try to grip onto him or the bed for support you're going to end up faltering and having tears grow in your eyes from the stimulation.

Even when your hole is completely full of his creamy white cum, he's still fingering you to fish out any orgasms that you had left in you. You'd completely forget that you were the one asking for this in the first place, but its okay, regardless, Mortefi will make sure to keep you satisfied.

"Is this enough? Hm? You want more? Okay, let's keep going then"

-----

JIYAN:

He'd be so embarassed when he receives your texts telling him how badly you needed him, along with a few provocative photos. You knew that he gets hard immediately when he sees you even half naked, so you took that to your own advantage and teased him.

When he comes home, he's dead silent. You'd be the one to give him a hug and to assure you nothing is wrong, he'd hug you back. Only to pick you up and throw you onto the bed before taking off your underwear and spreading your legs open.

He'd mumble in your pussy, telling you how badly he wanted you, it turns out that even though you were the desperate one somehow your energy went to Jiyan from a few texts.

When he gets his fill from your pussy that's when he's removing his belt and pants to shove his cock into you, putting your head on his shoulder to hear your sweet moans with every deep thrust he gives you.

"I'll return you all the love you gave me at work right now, so hold onto me"

-----

SCAR:

Forget about how you got him like that. He's already an hour home early and he's shoving his dick inside you right off the bat, pressing your body onto the couch as he fucks you from behind.

He'd groan at how wet you are, how easily your pussy could take him since you prepared yourself before hand. His hands gripping onto your hips as he forces you to take every thrust he gives you without holding back even for a second.

His hand would grip your chin, forcing you to look at him as he gives you a hungry kiss, his tongue twisting and sucking onto your mouth like he's a man starving for food, his other hand gripping and groping your breasts at the same time.

Scar would try to merge his body into yours, he wants to be one with you forever. And you bet he's keeping his dick inside you when you two are done until tomorrow morning.

"You're so naughty, at this rate I should get paid for fucking you as well"

-----

CALCHARO:

Calcharo did tell you that if you wanted him home early all you could do was leave a text, but sometimes you like to text a bit more than he asks you to.

So when he comes home he's staring at you with dark eyes, his hands moving before his brain as he runs his hands around you, leaning close to your ears to whisper at you.

"You're such a slut"

He'll say that, but you can tell you got him desperate too, the way he fucks your hole as it grips onto his cock, the way his precum leaks out of your hole as it mixes in with your juices, you know that despite him being tired from work, he still has stored up energy to fuck you until you're satisfied.

"Give me one more, didn't you want this?"

-----

AALTO:

He probably already relieved himself in the office, since it'd be troublesome if he walked around with a hard-on at work. But that doesn't mean he won't keep going for you when he's back home.

At first he'd fuck you because you wanted it, and he'll make sure he's doing a top tier job. That's until he goes pussy drunk of course. He'll lose control over the way your cunt tightens around him when he presses the right spots.

He loves the way your eyes would roll back each time he grinds on you, and he'll even give you marks so that when they fade away to the point of being unintelligible, that's when he'll know that you need more of his loving.

"I love it when you tell me how much you need me babe, do it more, tell me how much you need me again"

-----

YUANWU:

When he gets your texts telling him how much you needed him it makes him smile. You're so cute the way you beg him to hurry up and come home, and he will come home, with a sweet smile as he pats your head when you hug him so tight.

Whatever you ask for he'll do it. You want him to fuck your cunt loose? He'll do it. Want him to eat you out until you can't squirt? He'll do it. Want to suck his cock dry? He'll let you do it.

He believes in satisfying you before himself, and to him, he thinks that if you still need to ask him for more sex, then that means he hasn't been giving you enough.

"What else do you need? Don't be shy, I'll help relieve you until you're satisfied"

-----

A/N: Ty for the fun request anon!! hope you liked it!

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olderthannetfic · 1 day

Note

So visual art has a culture of posting incomplete works. People will post sketches or half coloured paintings, with or without the intention to finish them, and people enjoy them for what they are.

But over in fic land, the only incomplete works that get posted are complete chapters, in order. No one posts three random chapters from the middle of a longfic, or a short story with a parenthetical "put the fight scene here" halfway through.

I have so many WIPs that I know I'll never finish, but that I'm proud of and am happy with the parts that I have written. It'd be nice to do what the visual artists do and just throw them out there. And I know other people have WIPs like that and I'd be happy to read them, as long as I knew going in that they were early drafts or fragments.

They totally do though.

A lot of "series" are basically fragments of a single longer fic, often posted out of order and without the connective tissue. Some of them actually go on so long that the final version of the series really does feel like that longfic with most of the bits filled in.

I agree it's not as common and isn't usually framed the same way though.

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cosycafune · 1 day

Text

WISH I’D FUCKED YOU SOONER!

eren’s obsessed with the idea of fucking you, his girlfriend, so doing losing his virginity to a virgin you reprogrammed a pussy-deprived him. <3

a synopsis of acts: oral (f), missionary, sizing, boob grabbing, sadistic tendencies, multiple creampies, virginity loss, reassurance + potential more.

I’d like to think that when you and Eren lost your virginities to each other, a part of him would be so scared of hurting you. Yet, another part of him slightly thrived on knowing that he had you in such an intimate position, your legs sprawled, your stomach swelling with his cock, and your eyes teary.

The two of you hadn’t experienced anything like this before, but knowing how warm your soppy cunt is, and how much it could take of Eren’s mighty cock, made him prideful. Even if it took him a few times to learn through each of his swift finishing, inside of you, you told him to keep going — momentarily forgetting pregnancies exist.

Eren couldn’t ever get enough of your thudding heart, your scrunched up features, only being soothed by Eren reassuring and kissing your lips. With you bleeding, he consistently asked you if you wanted him to stop — but you pleaded for him to keep going.

Beautifully, Eren spent all night learning to fuck you — just so the next time would be more special than the last. Reassurance is his best specialty, only when it comes to you. Never had he seen you this vulnerable before, so seeing your angelic physique, your nervous features and your heavy breathing, completely resonated with him

Yet, the part that brought him to cum insanely quickly was your cunt pulsating — scared at his cock kissing upon your clit for the first time. Seeing the sight, and how his cock overwhelmed your cunt, made Eren gawk. Gawk, continuously running his cock against your soppy folds — only to subconsciously cum against them.

No, Eren wasn’t sure what specifically left him a cumming mess — because it was everything. Watching you writhe around, desperately trying to fit almost every inch of him, crying, shaking and throwing your head back, sadistically left him to sexually spiralling.

Sizing you up, that did wonders on his delirious mind. Just seeing you wearing a lilac bra, your ample breasts sprawled, unleashed Eren’s caged instincts. Seeing parts of your nudity was normal to him, but seeing you in a sexual glory pulverised each of his thoughts. He found himself longing to finally claim you, making you take and handle him — in a way you’ve been deserving of for a long time.

After tasting you, that’s what secured it for Eren. To him, learning how to give you head was the easiest act for him — as it refrained from hurting you. Just your pretty moans, your shyness and your maintained eye contact, it made him helplessly divulge within your cunt. Your cunt as you wrecked his manbun, gasping and moaning loudly at Eren roughly grabbing your breasts.

Rolling your hips was easy, but it grew harder each second — as Eren had already adapted to your pleasure patterns. It wasn’t something so easy, but seeing the hope in your eyes made him explore his stable stamina — eating you out until his jaw grew mildly lazy.

Knowing it was irresponsible to cum inside of you, Eren ponders on such a thing — but he didn’t care. It was daft to say, but seeing your pretty pussy filled with cum made him do it over and over again — praying mercilessly that he knocks you up.

Missing out on fucking you sooner is Eren’s only mistake in your relationship, as being unable to treat you sexually and wrecking you, made him wonder how badly the two of you were missing out.

—

do not copy, modify or translate my works. all rights belong to me: cosycafune. 2024.

#eren jaeger x reader #eren smut #eren jeager x reader #eren x black y/n #eren fluff #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren yaeger x reader #eren imagine #cosycafune #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan #aot smut #attack on titan smut #eren drabble

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we-out-here-simping · 2 days

Text

Ch 2: The teenage hobby of making out.

(s.h. x gn!reader)

from the river to the sea. (get in your daily clicks, read about it, donate if you can.)

Summary: Hopper’s getting mad that his kids are kissing boys.

Word count: 7.7k

Warnings: use of (y/n); no pronouns used (gn!reader); Suggestive (sexy ice cream consumption); steamy but no smut; boner alert; hopper being a cockblock; arguing; reader is jealous of Eleven; hopper makes a 'your wife' joke (its canon); daddy issues?

A/n: this is the closest i think ive gotten to writing smut so far lol i struggled so much

Anyway ive been having the big bad no good awful time lately and feel like doing literally nothing but i really pushed myself to finish this guy so have this and also I think it's high time we get readyyy for desi!reader!!!! She will be arriving soon hopefully!!!

masterlist

...

‘You don’t tug on superman’s cape, you don’t spit into the wind.’

Hopper’s record player blares. Your eyes fling open at the intruding loud tone of at this point what you know to be Jim’s favourite song.

‘You don’t pull the mask off an old lone ranger and you don’t mess around with Jim.’ The faceless crowd chants through the speakers. Quite swell headed of himself when you really think about it.

Your face scrunches, a yawn leaves you when you stretch under the quilt. The sheets beside you ruffle, and when you turn it is your sister, rousing from her sleep as well, Mr. Arnold, the teddy bear, in her arms. She lets out a frustrated groan at the loud song, before pulling her blanket over her head.

You snort at that because you’re sure it's impossible to fall asleep with that playing right outside the room. This is not the first time that Jim has used this really effective strategy to annoy you and your sister out of your slumber.

You lay there for a second before finally getting up to get started with the morning, knowing full well Hopper won’t be quietening it down unless both of you were out of bed and having breakfast. It also isn't like you had neighbours to complain about the noise.

By the time you come out of the bathroom, Eleven is once again stirring awake. She stretches both her arms above her head again and lets out a deep sigh.

"Morning, El.”

She mumbles something that sounds like ‘morning’, her tone a lot less peppy than yours. she once again decides she wants to be back asleep, rolling over and burying herself in the sheets again. “I think… I hate that song now”, you hear her grumble under the mass of the comforter.

“Yeah, that happens when you are forced to listen to something a billion times. What's weird is he does have other records but he really loves the song with his name in it”, you laugh both at your sister’s and Hopper’s antics.

You sit back on the bed with an ‘oof’, looking at where she lies beside you. “Okay, kid, let's get outta bed”, you say knowing full well that the noise isn't going to stop unless you both step out of the room. “c’mon El”, you sigh, shaking her a little by her shoulders. "Don't you have to go meet Dustin today?"

El’s eyes shoot open, she looks up at you with wide eyes as if she'd forgotten about her plans. She throws the blanket and the soft toy off of her and jogs away to her room.

You chuckle to yourself at her excitement, reaching under the quilt to look for Mr. Arnold. You pull him out, brushing the messy fur around his beady eyes before putting him neatly with the rest of the pillows and get out of the room yourself.

You head out into the kitchen, the smell of roasted coffee hitting you immediately. Jim has always been notorious for having his coffee extra strong, no cream, no sugar. you remember trying it once and pledged to never do that again, not being accustomed to that taste.

There's a box of cereal on the kitchen counter, you fix yourself a bowl and put some in another bowl for Eleven. You then head to the couch where Hopper is reading a newspaper and sipping the bitter and brown beverage, "morning" you say quietly— shouting was not needed since he had turned the player off when he noticed both you and Eleven were awake.

"Morning kid", he greeted from behind the newspaper, not really bothering to look up.

"You have to find a better way to wake us up."

He chuckles to himself, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it" he jostles the flimsy paper.

You roll your eyes which he doesn’t notice. That’s the usual with him. He doesn’t ever seem to notice you. And for the most part, you’re used to it. Somewhere between adopting you and now, things changed. Not to be mistaken, he is the closest thing you have to a father and you know he does love you but some part of this relationship feels… hollow now. Like you’re not getting enough, he’s not willing to give you enough.

In silence, you swirl your spoon around in the floating cereal while Hopper takes a big sip of his coffee. You think to finally tell him about Steve.

Just when you were contemplating when to speak up about it, Eleven comes out of her room, still wearing the same clothes, "Morning Hop", she greets brightly.

He looks up, "Morning kiddo", he smiles before his gaze moves back to his newspaper.

“There's a bowl for you on the kitchen counter”, you let the girl know. She smiles and pours herself some milk into it.

"Hey, Hop?", The super powered girl calls out. He hums through a mouthful of soggy cereal as he looks up from the newspaper. "Can you take me to Will's?” she says while walking over to the couch where he was sitting, "Dustin is coming back today. We're surprising him"

"Oh, okay kid. We'll just leave in a bit", he sets down the papers and downs all of the cereal. He goes into his room. By the time you and Eleven are done with your breakfast, Hopper comes out, clad in his uniform.

"Hey y/n any groceries you want me to get? Going to the Market today", he asked while putting his shoes on.

"Yeah, it's on the fridge"

The man went over to the fridge door and took the list off of it. He took a second to read the contents of the list before muttering out the last one, "icecream, again?"

"I like ice cream. We ran out", you shrugged.

"I bought a tub this sunday."

“I really like ice cream”

“seriously? this is getting more ridiculous than El’s eggo obsession–”

“hey!” she interjects.

“and weren’t you expanding your horizons? How’d that combo work out last night?” He looks between you and Eleven.

"It was…", she pauses, looking for a suitable word, "disgusting.” she says with the straightest face before going to her room to get changed and to put on her shoes, you assume.

“I… can't say that I disagree”

“Look kid, I'm not getting you ice cream so often, okay? Anything else?"

“...Nope that's… that’s it. Just the list.”

“‘Kay,” he shoves the paper in the pocket of his shirt. He glances over at the room that Eleven is in before clearing his throat. “Hey, do you uh…”, he looks back you, voice softer than it was just a second ago, “wanna talk about it?”

“About..?”

“That nightmare I’m assuming you had last night.”

“... there's– there isn't anything to talk about”

“Yes there is”, he barely gets the words out of his mouth when you sigh, frustrated before getting off the couch and moving towards the kitchen.

“C’mon kid,”, he follows behind you, “you haven't been telling me anything recently, and Owens told me–”, you groan at the name, “don't interrupt me– Owens told me that you refuse to share anything with him either.”

“I don't tell anything because there is nothing to tell. And honestly,” you put your bowl in the sink, “I don't want to talk about stupid feelings with a stupid old man”

“You think I haven't been hearing you scuttering ‘round in your room trying to fall asleep? So don't bullshit me but there is a lot to tell. He recommended these weekly check ups because they will help. I mean– look at El, she barely struggles with the night terrors or–”

“You just have to compare me to her, don’t you?”

“Owens will call saturday and you better tell him everything”, he commands with his nostrils flared.

You roll your eyes away from him, crossing your arms.

“Do you hear me? Hey! look at me when I’m talking to you”, he uses that stern voice again, the one that means ‘you better listen or else’. You aren’t sure what the ‘or else’ ever is yet you always listen when he uses that voice. You look at him, reluctantly so, “Good. now… I'm getting late. Why don't you get rid of that attitude and stop being such a brat" he shoves his wallet in his back pocket, calling out Eleven's name and she comes out wearing a navy-blue t-shirt that seemed a little too big for her, and she casts you a concerned look.

You let out a frustrated huff as soon as the door shuts close behind them. You run your fingers over your face, your head hurting again after that argument.

You then head to put the rest of the bowls in the sink and the milk in the fridge, but that's when you notice it. The Eleven's drawing— of you, Hopper and herself— that was initially stuck to the fridge door with a magnet, was now on the floor— along with the other magnets. You tried to put them back on nevertheless they fell again. You were frustrated as it is, it only made you angrier when they didn't stick. In your rage you shove them in the nearest drawer, it closes with a loud thud.

You weren't sure how this entire thing had managed to get you so mad. You wanted to rip your hair out, break all the bowls, burn the stupid phone so Owens never calls, shatter hopper's favourite coffee mug, tear apart every drawing Eleven has made of you all together. But you don't. You just stand there, trying your best to keep it at bay– the anger, the tears, both. And god, you needed to catch your breath, you needed some water.

You grab a glass of water from the tap. As it fills, you latch open the window above the sink. The window and the glass of water had become a part of your routine to calm yourself down. A compulsion at this point because if you didn't do it, everything felt off.

You guzzle down the thing, the liquid cooling you. You force yourself to close your eyes, breathing in, holding it and then breathing out– just like Hopper had taught you. Although it brings down your anger, it doesn't exactly calm you down. You blame it on the lack of wind today.

You don't keep your eyes closed for too long though. You close the window and head to your room. You don't bother with anything else, planning on hiding under the sheets for the rest of the day. It is then that you hear a knock on your bedroom window.

You look up from the mess of wrinkled sheets and you are met with the beautiful smile of your boyfriend. He gives you a little wave with a bouquet of flowers and holds up a takeaway cup from scoops ahoy. A smile automatically forms itself on your face as you walk over to the window and open it so he could climb in.

He lets himself in in a rather not ninja way, your hands flying to steady him. you take in his clothes– his scoops ahoy outfit, the colours suit him, his favourite watch snug around his wrist, the shorts fitting him perfectly, his floppy hair resting softly against his forehead— he looks beautiful to say the least.

"Morning your highness!", He spoke up with a rich English accent– gesturing wildly with the bouquet, "Flowers picked by yours truly! Ice cream scooped, once again, by your beloved", he handed you the flowers— which you held close to your chest while showcasing a huge grin. "And guess what? New flavour! You have to try it, babe."

You adjust the crooked name tag on his shirt, "I was just leaving for work but decided to take a little detour. Hope you don't mind me coming."

"Of course I don't— it's just, if you came like two minutes earlier, Hop would've caught you."

"Close call", he wipes the imaginary sweat off of his temple, making you giggle a little.

"You look very pretty," you say before you even realise.

"I'm supposed to be a manly man! you calling me pretty and beautiful isn't helping with that", he complains only half-heartedly because he loves hearing you call him those things. No one has ever complimented him in such a way, sure he has gotten compliments about his hair or his nether regions from girls but you telling him he's pretty and cute made butterflies flutter all over in a way he didn't think was possible.

"Well, that's too bad. You are pretty", he blushes all pink when you say it, "The prettiest ever", he smiled shyly as you came closer to him— faces merely inches apart.

"Not too shabby yourself babe", he pecked the tip of your nose and then you go to put the flowers in a vase next to your bed.

“How did last night go?” he asks, following behind you.

“Hmm?”

“You were... going to tell your dad about us?”

“Oh.”

He purses his lips, “I'm guessing you didn't”

“I wanted to, I swear but then Mike Wheeler happened."

“‘Course he did”

“And then I almost did this morning too but then Jim and I had a fight, like right now..”

“Fight, about what?”

You quickly shake your head, “.. doesn't matter. I’m sorry”

“Hey, its okay. How ‘bout this okay, you.. try again. okay? whenever feels right-- no rush" you nod slowly. the boy flashes you a grin before speaking up again, "now, gimme a little kiss"

"No."

"No? why no?" he pouts.

"’Cause I want to have ice cream first", you declare, booping his nose.

He lets out a playful scoff, “is that all I am to you? I stole this just for you yesterday and I don’t even get a kiss?" he is all theatrical as he holds is palm on his chest to show just how scandalized he feels.

“Stole it?”

“Nah", he clicks his tongue as a no, shaking his head, "we get free ice cream.”

Your brows fly up at the information, “Woah, really? hmm, I need to work there.”

“Will you? Please do. My coworker pretty much hates me–”

While he is rambling, you try to snatch the cup from his hand, but before you could do so he pulls his hand away. "Ah ah ah, you gotta give me the password first to get the ice cream babe"

"What?" you ask, brows knotted together.

"Not the password", He says in a monotonous voice.

"Steve c'mon–"

"Not the password."

"Just give it to me, Steve", you try reaching for it again– to no avail.

"Not the password."

"Stevieee", you're practically draped over him, yet he somehow manages to keep the cup right out of your reach.

"Not the password", he smirks, laughing a little.

You sigh, you had to play it his way to get what you want. You give a quick kiss on his cheek– more so a peck. "Hm, warmer...", he hums, "but still not the password."

You groan all frustrated, knowing full well what he wanted. and you had no other choice than to give in. You tilt your face so your lips meet his and when you pull back, awaiting his response. He finally says, "You got it", before lowering his hand.

Steve then goes into character– sitting you down on the edge of your bed, he takes out his hat from his pocket that said 'ahoy' on it and puts it on top of your head.

He greets you how he would welcome any other customer, you giggle at his theatrical antics. "Now, since you are one rather good looking sailor, I'll let you set sail on this ocean of flavor with me with this amazing scoop of our new invention!!'

The treat is a little melted— blame it on the summer heat. tasting phenomenal, surely to be your new favourite. As Steve watches you relish the delicious flavour, he notices that the runny liquidy ice cream has managed to drip around the corner of your mouth and lower lip.

"Oh babe, you've got a–" His thumb swipes over your lower lip— eye contact unbreaking— Smearing the liquid much more than actually wiping it. He does it unreasonably slow.

"There", he pulls his arm back, and without looking at the residual ice cream on his thumb he licks it– gaze still unwavering. "Delicious", he murmured. Heat creeps up your neck and spreads through your cheeks. You both knew what Steve was doing although you'd be lying if you said that it wasn't working.

Having expected for you to be absolutely flustered, Steve is surprised when instead your features morph into a mischievous smile, "right? You wanna try some?"

"Uh, sure", he hesitates.

You go to feed him the drippy ice cream with the spoon only to 'accidentally' smudge it at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, you've got a—"

"Oh, very funny babe—" Before Steve could finish, your lips were attached to the corner of his mouth. Your tongue darts out to lick at the liquid— the movements agonisingly slow. It is then that Steve forgets how to function. He doesn't reciprocate your kisses, being sure he'd forgotten how to kiss. This was the first time you'd initiated a kiss, or made a move on him and now he didn't know how to react.

When you pull away, his eyes remain closed for a bit longer. But when they finally do flutter open, instead of the same mischievous sly smirk, he is met with your wide eyes. You blink as if unsure of what you had done, Steve sees you gulp before you get up and leave the room.

Steve was stuck, he realises. His mind has forgotten how to work for however long that lasted. Maybe it was minutes or maybe it was only just a few seconds– to him it felt like hours though. Blood rushed to his cheeks and other parts of his body.

He paid it no mind though and quickly got up to find you. His situation will go away, right now he needed to make sure that you were alright. He went out of the room and sees you by the kitchen— throwing away the empty cup— your back turned towards him.

You don't look up when he stands beside you, he calls out your name and you shyly turn to sneak a look at him, rubbing your own arm anxiously, “S– sorry that was weird right?”

“Uh– n– no! It wasn't", he assures, shaking his head, "It just… um, I wasn't expecting it. It was– It wasn't weird.” he waits, hoping you'd say something but when you don't, he speaks up, "That was like the– the hottest thing ever– what you did back there."

“It wasn't... too much? It felt like it was too much.”

“Too much? I have a boner right now, respectfully, of course.”

Your eyes widen, and just when they were about to trail down– “don't look down!” You hold your breath, trying your best to muster all your power to maintain eye contact with him, but your gaze betrays you for just a second as it snaps down to his groin before jumping back to his eyes. Your face becomes so warm, palms clammy.

“W-what do I do?”

“No–nothing? It’ll go away”, he barely manages to stammer out, turning his body towards the kitchen counter so you don't see it, eyes roaming everywhere but towards you.

Steve in high school never would have faced such issues, king steve never would have been so clumsy and embarrassed in front of someone he liked. The old Steve wouldn't get this damn red and awkward. But he does, he isn't the old Steve afterall.

He feels your hand on his shoulder, urging him to look your way. When he does, his eyes meet your unsure gaze-- you were looking at his lips. He himself can't help but trace the contour of your face, from your eyes to your nose, to the swoop of your cupid's bow to finally your lips.

It is you who leans in. This kiss was different than any you have had before. It grows deeper. And suddenly, its all tongue and teeth. Steve has never kissed you like this before. Its hands over your body, fingers creeping under your t-shirt. And its unusual. A good unusual. One you could get used to.

“Steve?" you breathe out when you pull apart.

“Y– yeah?”

“I’m sure. What I said yesterday, I’m sure.”

“Wait– you’re not just saying that ‘cause I–’

“No. I– I mean it.” You let out a giggle. The giggle which he was sure could end and fix all his fears and nightmares. The giggle that made his heart flutter and stomach do summersaults. You were sure to be the death of him.

His grip around your waist tightens as he rests his forehead against yours, warm noses touching. "When.. uh– when does Hopper come back?"

"5:30," you huffed out, once again leaning in and he once again pulled back to be just out of your reach.

"One last question, El isn't home, is she?"

"No, no. She– she's with– friends. Won't come back till four."

"Good, wouldn't want them to come in on this", he almost growls before latching your lips together. And then you're kissing him. It is messy, but he loves every single second of it. His hands go to hold your jaw and yours to his cheeks, pulling in closer– deepening the kiss. At this point you'd both forgotten to breathe, too intoxicated on each other. But soon, both your lungs start to burn off the lack of oxygen and you both pull apart.

Your breaths were jagged, foreheads still touching. You gasp into his mouth. Your lips move in tandem as Steve pushes you between himself and the counter. The edge of the counter digs into your thighs. His hands travel to right below your ass, ready to lift you up onto the counter. But before he could do so, you pull him by the collar of his sailor outfit towards your room— lips never stopping contact. Steve takes the hint and gently pushes you against the door of your room, fumbling for the door knob.

You grab a fistful of his hair, he lets out a moan into your mouth. He finally manages to open the door, and you immediately pull him in. Steve tries to steady you both while tightening his hold on your hips, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.

You pull him towards the bed. He finally pulls away to take off his shirt only to latch his lips back to yours. He is hovering over you, lips never not touching, hands roaming each other's bodies. You slightly pull away, your digits fumbling for the cassette player's buttons next to your bed. The button clicks and Asia’s ‘heat of the moment’ starts playing. The both of you laugh because it was the mixtape that you and Steve had made a couple months ago.

…

Hopper had just reached the Byer's when he realises that he had forgotten his hat in the heat of the argument with you. He frowns upon the thought of the argument, he regrets shouting, he was worried about you and maybe he shouldn't have gotten that mad.

He waves over at Eleven, watching behind her to make sure she gets inside. He starts the engine and heads back to the cabin to retrieve his hat and perhaps make amends with you.

When he gets there, you don't open the door. You were possibly still mad at him, he thinks when he lets himself in, he could hear the song blaring from your room. He takes a peek in through the cracked open door.

Through the few inch wide door gap, he sees you and Steve Harrington. A shirtless Steve Harrington on top of you. The boy kissing you. And you kissing him back.

Through the kisses, his lips trail along your jaw and down your throat landing on your collarbone— pulling a moan out of you. "God, you're– fuck", Hopper barely hears the boy mumble. The man's nostrils flare as he sees his hands go back to the little sliver of skin exposed between your shirt and your shorts, fingers playing with the hem of the shirt.

"HEY!"

Steve immediately pulls away and yelps when you accidentally yank his hair. You both look up towards the source of the sound and there stood Jim Hopper, eyes wide with seething anger.

“HOPPER?--”

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!"

"Hopper", You yelp out, speedily turning the player off while Steve fumbles to hide his integrity behind a pillow. Both Steve and Hopper were bright red. You were sure to go deaf to the loud beating of your heart.

"What in the fuck are you doing with my kid, Harrington?", You were sure Hopper's face would burst into flames any second now.

Steve eyes bounce frantically between you and hopper, he stammers, "I— Hopper—"

"That's fucking sir to you, Harrington."

"Sir, I—"

You hold your hands up, hoping to calm Hopper down after he found you in such a compromising position, "It's– its not what it looks like Hop—"

"So you're telling me that you two weren't about to–"

"Hop—", you try interrupting him but he interjects you by turning to Steve, pointing his finger at the poor boy while simultaneously squaring up on him. "I'm gonna have a serious fucking talk with your father, Harrington."

He walks backwards, incredibly intimidated, "But, sir—"

"Cover your goddamn tits and wait for me outside, Harrington." Steve gulps, silently nodding– knowing well enough that talking back was going to be fruitless so he leaves the room, the door shutting behind him.

You try speaking up again, "Hopper, listen–"

"No, you listen", he scolds with gritted teeth and flared nostrils, "You are fucking grounded. You can live your stupid paranoid fantasy and stay safe and stuck in this cabin”

“Hop–”

"And that means no tv–"

"Dad–"

"No radio or cassettes, no more phone, no more tv– ", he said as he unplugs the radio player and pulls out the cassette box from under your bed and throws the tapes around in anger "what else are you hiding from me, huh?”

"Nothing, hopper–"

He notices the box pushed further back under your bed and pulls it out— filled to the brim with Steve related stuff. your graduation caps, polaroids, mixtapes, books that had flowers pressed between their pages, beer bottle caps from when you had gotten drunk for the first time– all on the floor for display; the entire thing doing nothing to calm the raging man down. "Hopper, stop–"

"No more fucking dating", he picks up the mixtapes and books, throwing them with immense fury and rage. He pulls out polaroids of you and Steve and crumbles it up.

"NO!!--"

"And NO MORE FUCKING STEVE HARRINGTON", he smashed the now empty box against the floor, "D'YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND?" he was shouting now, full on shouting— and it scared you. For the first time, Hopper scared you. The same guy who had saved you, protected you. The first person with whom you felt safe, ever.

Tears spring up in the corner of your eyes. you duck your chin into your chest, squinting them shut.

“Asked you a fucking question.”

You try to even your breaths before answering, "No."

"What'd you say?", Words dripping in fury.

"I said, no."

"Why? You love that stupid idiot or something?"

The question scares you because you don't have an answer. You wrack your brain, looking for an answer but still…. your brain pulls up a slide that was nothing but a blank screen.

Do you love him?

You like him. You love being with him. He is your best friend, your only friend. But do you love him? how would you know? You do not know.

“He’s my friend. He’s my only friend, Jim”

"Cut the bullshit, y/n", Hopper spoke as he noticed the tears springing up in your eyes and right now he was too damn angry to regret it.

Either of you don't hear the sound of the door shutting over your own heartbeat. you finally speak up, "You're bullshit."

"What?"

"You see El and Mike everyday, they're always kissing. But you see me with Steve one time–"

"The one time I see you two, you are fornicating— El and Mike don't do that."

"I'm a fucking adult, Hopper"

"You're a goddamn teenager is what you are!"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn't do this stuff when you were a teenager, Hopper. You’re being an asshole!”

“Maybe you shouldn't have hid things from me y/n and I'm not being an asshole, I'm giving you a reality check. and if you think you’re such an adult then stop fucking hiding in this cabin from the world and feeding you little paranoid fantasy”

Both your chests rise and fall, face warm with aggravation, “Oh, don't look at me like I’m some monster", Hopper shakes his head at you, exasperated. you don't say anything, instead you get up to leave the room, "… where do you think you are going?”

“I’m leaving.”

“Aww, where are you gonna go, to your boyfriend?”

"You know what? That's a great idea, Jim. I’ll go and never come back again, I'll live with Steve or I’ll live in that stupid trailer. I've done it before and I'll do it again", you say with absolute resentment, all gritted teeth and red eyes. "I’ll leave", you sniffled, "Cuz you sure as hell don't want me here."

"Sure, kid, go 'head", he said through flared nostrils and a mock smile.

You raise your volume too before, "You won't have to fucking pretend to care for me anymore, you can take care of El all you want now", you pause for a beat before murmuring, "Clearly you like her more."

"..What–"

"Don't play dumb", your voice shakes as you speak, "it took you years to even consider adopting me, but you took El in in a heartbeat. El’s the one you care about Hopper– just fucking admit it, she's the one that gets hugs, she's the one that gets all the love and affection, she’s always mattered more to you, she's the one who matters to you because she's the one who reminds you of your dead daughter"

You said that. You said that. And the truth was that you meant it. Sure, you regret it, knowing how much it affected Jim. But it seemed only fair in your rageful brain to do the same.

Hopper is frozen, he swallows a lump in his throat. He looks at you hunched over the mess he'd made, your eyes red, watery and enraged.

You see him take a deep breath; it almost seems like he was about to say something. Maybe he'll apologise, you think, maybe you will too. Instead, he turned, his body lingering for a second too long near the door, and you pray that he says something– anything so you could take it all back. He lets out the breath he had been holding and shut the door behind him. A few seconds later you hear the cabin's door slamming. He left.

…

At the station, Jim was having his lunch– donuts, which Flo had bought for everyone in the light of her birthday. Powell and Callaghan were discussing something, Flo has given Jim some paperwork– he isn’t sure about what though. His mind was too busy playing your argument on repeat.

El’s the one you care about, Hopper.

She’s the one who matters to you.

Because she’s the one who reminds you of your dead daughter.

“Chief?” Jim realises that he had been staring at the files that Flo had given him.

“You okay, boss?”

“Uh, yeah— I’m peachy Callaghan”, Hopper gets up from his chair picking up another donut, “exactly how your wife was last night.”

Powell and the rest of the workers let out a guffaw while Flo looks at Jim with disapproving eyes and Callaghan looks like a kicked dog. Jim picked up his keys, headed towards the exit.

“Where are you going Jim?”, Flo demands behind him.

“Gotta take care of something, Flo”, he picks up his hat and puts it atop his head, “Hold the fort down for me while I’m gone?”

“It’s not like I have a choice.”

“Thanks, Flo”, he muttered, flashing a fake grin. Hopper shoves the donut in his mouth and went out the door and into his car. He drives through the empty streets of the local market, one hand tight around the steering wheel and the other holding the crumpled up shopping list you’d made. Joyce would know how to deal with both your and El’s situation, he thinks to himself as he stopped in front of Melvald’s general store, she was actually good at the whole parenting thing, afterall.

When Jim steps into the empty store, he is met with Joyce putting up a sale sign. “Hey”, her head turned at the sound of the bell ringing.

“Hey, You busy?”

“You’re our first customer, so..” There is a beat. Hopper’s fingers fumble with the edge of his hat. “What now?”

Hopper vents about everything that happened between you two to Joyce while picking up all the groceries you had written in the list. “And its not just y/n, El too— she and Mike are kissing, like constantly and the other day— she just…. slams the door, right in my face. and– and y/n just doesn't wanna tell me anything and every time I try to talk, it just turns into an argument. and this last one just really went to shit”, Joyce hums as she rings up all of Jim’s groceries.

“Y’know, those smug sons of bitches, Steve and Mike. They’re corrupting them, I’m telling you.”, he shakes his head, “This has never happened before. And I’m just gonna lose it. I mean, I’m gonna lose it, Joyce–”

“Just take it down, Hopper”, Joyce speaks with a calm tone as she packed up the groceries.

“I want– I need to get rid of them."

“'rid of them'? you sound like you're going to murder them. and didn’t you already tell Steve and y/n that they can’t see each other anymore?”

“But El—”

“Hopper, that is not your decision to make”

“You don’t get it Joyce, El and mike– it’s constant. It is constant. And y/n's been hiding this thing from me for months probably! Months!”, Joyce huffs at Hopper’s anger, “Okay? That is not good or normal, that isn’t healthy”

“What you did to y/n and Steve isn’t healthy either”, Joyce pushes Hopper’s grocery bag on the counter towards him, “Besides, you can’t just force them apart.” She leaves the checkout counter and moves to an aisle and starts putting sale tags on the items, still continuing the conversation. “I mean, y/n’s right— they’re not little kids anymore, Hop.” The woman explains with knitted brows while the man picks up a random thing from the aisle nearest to him and starts playing catch with himself like a bored toddler.

“They’re teenagers Hopper”, Joyce huffs, “If you order them around like a cop, then they’re going to rebel. It's just— what they do.”

“So what am I supposed to do? Let them do whatever they want?”, Jim tosses the box up again.

“No, I didn’t say that”, she sighs, snatching the box midair while shooting a chastising look towards the tall man, “I think you should talk to them.”

“No. no, ‘cause talking doesn’t work–”

“Not yelling. Not ordering”, she gestures with the tag gun, “But talk to them” The woman turns to put the box back where it belonged while muttering with a shrug, “y'know like a heart-to-heart.”

“A heart-to-heart?” Hopper questions, confused, “what’s that?”

“You sit them down, you talk to them. Like you’re their friend”, Joyce explains while the man leans against a wall rather dramatically as if he was five-year-old listening to a lecture about the theory of relativity, “if you talk to them like you’re on their level, then they really start to listen. And then– you know, you can start to create some boundaries”

“Boundaries”, Jim repeats.

“Yeah, but Hop— it's really important that no matter how they respond,” she pauses for emphasis, “You stay calm. You cannot lose your temper”

The uniform clad man rolls his eyes; however, he hid it quickly before Joyce could notice and taps his fingers awkwardly against the wall, “uh, maybe, you could do it for me?”, he requests as if asking Joyce if he could do his homework

“No.”

“Yeah you could. You could come over after work. Yes?”

“No. it only works if it comes from you. Besides you're the one who yelled at y/n. So, you're the one who will apologize.”, She punctuated her sentence by putting a tag on Hopper's shirt. “But…", She trailed off.

“But?”, Jim echoes.

“Maybe I can help you…”, she picks up a notepad from the counter, “find the right words.”

…

You have locked yourself in your room, not planning on seeing anyone. It's what you deserve anyway. Its probably for the better. The lights are turned off, the only source of light in the pitch darkness is spilling through the tiny gap of your slightly open door. You've hidden yourself under the blanket, the bed a mess from tossing and turning.

You hear muffled sounds of Jim reciting something in a monotonous tone from the room next to you. “...important to establish these boundaries...”, His muttering sounding like he had a cigarette between his teeth, “....we can create an environment where.... we feel comfortable, trusted and open….”, you hear him pause, “to share our feelings”. He pauses again and you turn around in your sheets, burying your head under the quilt not planning to hear any more of it. Because if you did you’d cry, whether of jealousy or hurt or regret or guilt, you did not know, you just knew that you would cry.

After some time you then heard the thump of his feet from his room. They stopped in front of your door for a few seconds and you think for just a second that maybe he will knock, maybe you both will fix this, but then they started moving again, moving further from your door and finally stopping in front of El’s door. He knocks. “Hey”

“Yes?”

“Can I talk to you guys, a minute?”, he asks. You couldn't hear the rest of the conversation as it was muffled by the walls and door. But you filled in the gaps— hopper was trying to talk to Eleven and Mike, possibly about the previous night. He was trying for Eleven. Not for you. For Eleven.

Then Hopper abruptly left with Mike— something about the boy's nanna. You knew that definitely wasn't the truth. For once, you felt bad for Mike.

...

"Y/n?", Eleven cracked the door open. You were lying in your bed, back facing the door. Eleven approached the foot of the bed. "Are you okay?", with knitted brows, she asks, eyes trying to adjust to the dark room.

"I just feel a little sleepy, El", she did not need to know about your fight with Hopper. She did not need to see that ugliness.

"Do you want to watch romcom?"

"You do that"

"And you?"

"I'm not in the mood, El. Kinda tired. I'll be fine, I think I just need sleep.”

The short haired girl nodded rather half-heartedly and left. A few seconds later, the door opened again, you didn't turn to see who it was.

“Do you want ice cream? Hopper brought some”, It was Eleven again.

“... No, I'm alright”, you don't bother looking up.

"Y/n?", you feel her palm on your shoulder before you turn around hoping the dark room hid your red eyes. "I've kept your food here”, she tells you.

You give a faint smile at the girl's kindness. She closed the door behind herself, leaving.

After eating your food, you fall headfirst into the pillows and there lied Mr. Arnold. You held the bear flush against your chest. Maybe the soft toy could help you fix this too. It smelled like Eleven, you smiled at the thought of your sister and you hated the fact that you were jealous of her. She was the kindest, strongest and most adorable kid— and you'd talked to Hopper about her like you resented her. She was your sister, you loved her.

The bear also smelled like Steve. You missed him, you wondered what he was doing. You told yourself to call the boy after Hopper leaves the next morning. You are curled up in your bed, exhaustion overtaking you. Your eyelids grew droopy and soon you were drifting into sleep.

…

You’re in your room, grey and sterile. your headache had dulled out for the most part, although your eyes still felt too dry. Your Papa had come to check in on you. He said that you were getting better and that you could go back to lessons and the rainbow room from the next day.

The entire week you were like this he didn't bring up why you are hurt. You reckon he was disappointed. You don't bring it up either, just glad that you didn't have to wear the collar because you were hurt.

When the doctor gave you medicine with the injection, Papa held your hand, his other hand brushing over your shaved head to comfort you.

"Good job, Seven."

When the doctor leaves, you finally speak up, "Papa?", he looks at you, "are you angry... at me?"

"For what?"

"For what happened that day."

"No, Seven. I'm not. I am proud of you and the extent of your powers”, your heart swells at the praise, "now we just have to hone in on it. Get better at it. Do you understand?"

You nod silently. He clears his throat before getting up from beside your bed. He buttons his grey blazer, "now, I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" you nod once again.

He is about to reach for the door when you speak up again, “Papa?”

“Yes, seven?”

“Where is my mother?”

He turns around, the wrinkles on his forehead more prominent, “What?” he walks back up to you.

“I was reading a book in the rainbow room", you explain, " The child in it had a papa and a mama. Why don't I have a mama?”

“Not everyone does, Seven", he answers curtly, “Your mother died when she gave birth to you” he says before once again turning to leave the room.

“You're lying”, he stops and turns and is met with your knitted brows, “I can tell you're lying.”

You see him purse his lips for a second before he speaks up, ”Well, your powers have never been reliable, have they? Your mother is dead.”

“Did I kill her? like I did with that man and the child.”

”yes. Get some rest. Lessons start again tomorrow, Seven."

“Yes Papa”, he is out the door before you even say the entire thing.

…

Hopper doesn’t know what the hell he is doing. He just knows one thing and that is that heart-to-hearts are not his thing. Not anymore anyway. He used to be better at this, at emotions.

Ever since sarah… he’s felt like this. This empty chasm, this darkness. A black hole. That sucks in everything that is good, warm and bright. Everything he loves, everything he cares for, he swallows it all if it gets too close. It happened after sarah. And for a really long time, Jim decided to never let anyone in– which included you. Your younger self had tried, to win him over, to let his walls down but he hadnt let up. But then last year… Eleven managed to break down those walls, and just like he always does, he swallowed her whole. Enough that she had compared him to that psychotic man who called himself your papa, enough that she had decided to leave. And now he was doing it again, with you.

Hopper fucking sucks at feelings, not because he doesn't feel but maybe because he doesn't want anyone else to know that he does. The folded-up paper in his hand makes it really fucking clear. And though his palm is slightly sweaty, he blames it on the summer.

He hates that he shouted at you, multiple times.

Look at me when I’m talking to you.

That is what he had said back then, that is what he had said today. And he saw that same look on you, that deer-in-the-headlight look, the same one he saw on you when he first saw you at the police station. And he immediately regretted it. He and his inflated ego are to blame when he didn't apologize. But he will now, he is going to apologize. He is going to talk things out– have a heart-to-heart. You’re his kid dammit and you fucking deserve it.

Alright hopper, you got this. Just do what Joyce told you and they'll listen to you.

He stops at your doorstep first, knuckles lifted to knock but then he hears Eleven giggling, and he glances over to her room. Mike is still here, he thinks. Let’s just deal with them first, lets get the easier conversation over with and then he’ll talk to you– he’ll tell you everything, he'll listen to you.

But then he goes to Eleven’s room and asks if he could talk to them, and he tries he really does try but as it turns out the easier conversation still wasn’t easy at all. Hopper can't help but repeat history.

He has always felt cursed. Cursed to ruin everything as he tends to always end up doing. And in his anger he ends up blackmailing mike to stay away from his daughter.

When hopper came back, Eleven asked him if Mike's nanna (bless her) was okay. "Uh, yeah– she'll be fine kid– pretty sure it was a false alarm." He had lied through his teeth, but he doesn't take it back.

He doesn't take it back. he never goes to your room. he doesn't talk it out. So much for a heart-to-heart.

...

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader angst #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x you #stranger things rewrite #steve harrington x gn!reader

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whitexwolfxx310 · 6 hours

Text

|| What’s Your Favorite Scary Movie? ||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Summary: After accidentally revealing that you have a masked man kink, Bucky starts taking it to the next level.

Warnings: Smut- MDNI please!, oral sex (both ways!!), edging?, masturbation (F), praise kink, cursing, light stalking, breaking in, harassing texts/calls, and lots of angst.

Word Count: 4.3

A/Ns: Hi babes! This was going to be a short story but she came out kinda long, so I'm going to make it a 2 parter. Don't judge me 🙈 I looove masked men. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. This is also my first time getting more explicit with smut so don't judge me too harshly! xoxo

Snuggled up to Bucky under a comfy blanket with a bowl of extra buttery and salty popcorn, lights turned all the way down, you finally convinced him to watch the movie Scream. While you’ve seen it many times before and are aware of all the jump scares, you still cling onto him a little extra tight in preparation while he is completely unphased. About halfway through the movie, you hear Bucky snort.

“What?” You ask, looking up at him slightly. His face is illuminated by the glow of the tv.

“Something you want to tell me, Doll?” One side of his mouth is tugged up in amusement.

“Bucky, what the fuck are you talking about?” Confused, you sit up to look at him.

He just shakes his head, grinning, “I’m talking about how every time a masked man comes on that screen,” he points to the tv, “you press those pretty little thighs of yours together.”

Your cheeks instantly flush, “You noticed that?”

“I pay attention to everything when it comes to my girl.” Bucky leans back more, resting his arm on top of the couch still grinning, “Tell me about it.” His eyes narrow slightly, something a bit darker lurking, intrigued by this knowledge.

“I don’t know… it’s just like,” you brush your hair behind your ears suddenly feeling embarrassed, “kind of like a kink? A fantasy maybe? There’s just something so dark and exhilarating about an unknown man behind a mask that stalks and is obsessed with you. The anonymity of it I guess?”

By the time you’re done explaining, your hands unknowingly gripped and crossed your chest. Blinking rapidly, you let go and focus back on Bucky who is just watching you intensely.

He nods and purses his lips lightly, “Maybe if I keep watching this movie, I’ll want a masked man for myself,” He teases.

“Oh, shut the fuck up!” You grab a fistful of popcorn and throw it at him, sending you both into a laughing frenzy.

"You're cleaning that up, not me." Bucky laughs.

Him and his messes.

He scoops you in close to his body to finish the movie, and later that night he showed you that no masked man from a movie could ever compare to him.

Three weeks later.

While trying to grab your phone and keys out of your bag, you accidentally drop the stack of mail you had just picked up from the landlord’s office on the doormat.

“Shit!” You mutter to yourself. Bending down to pick it up, something catches your eye. Your apartment door is cracked open.

You stand up, discarding the mail and push open the door, “Hello?” You call out, “Bucky?” There’s no response.

Taking a few steps in, nothing looks out of place or any evidence that someone seems to have broken in. You start going through each room, keeping your phone firmly in your hand just in case. But there’s nothing. Walking out of the bedroom you decide you’re going to call Bucky to see how far away he is since he was on his way over, when you find him standing in the kitchen.

“OH! Fuck me-” You jump at the sight of him and grab your chest.

“Hey, Doll!” Bucky says, like the perfect golden retriever boyfriend that he is.

“Did you just get here?” You ask, your heart still pounding.

“Yeah, why?” he asks curiously, absentmindedly grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl off the kitchen counter and taking a bite.

“Um, yeah me too. It’s just-”

“Just… what?” He takes another bite.

“It’s just that... my door was open when I got here?”

“What?” Bucky’s face instantly changes, his eyes wide and anxious, “Go wait in the hallway until I look around.”

“I already did that-”

“Please?” He pleads as he throws out his barely eaten apple, already coaxing you towards the door.

Crossing your arms, you go and wait in the hallway while he looks around. After a few minutes he brings you back in.

“Everything looks to be fine, but I’m going to stay the night just in case.” You breathe a sigh of relief at Bucky’s words.

“Maybe maintenance came in and forgot to lock back up. I was having all those issues with my heater a few months ago,” You try justifying.

“Yeah maybe,” he says, with a small shrug of his shoulders.

About a week later is when the phone calls started.

Initially it was just 1 or 2 a day from a restricted number that you never picked up, assuming it was some kind of solicitation about your car’s extended warranty. But no voicemail was ever left.

As a few weeks went by though, it started to feel like borderline harassment. The number of phone calls jumped to an average of twenty times a day.

Sitting at your work desk your phone continued to violently vibrate, the words Unknown Caller lit up on the screen. You ran your hands through your hair, letting them linger on your scalp, starting to feel stressed every time your phone rang.

"Hey babes!" Hailee, your coworker/bff storms unannounced into your office, "You ready to grab some lu- oh my god. Are they calling you right now?" Obviously aware of the situation, she scurries around your desk in her too high heels and answers your phone. Clearing her throat, "Hi, thank you for calling Tammy's Whorehouse where we suck and fuck. How can I help you?" She taps an inpatient finger on her hip, waiting for a response and then the line goes dead.

Your hands fall down into your lap with an exacerbated breath, "No one ever answers."

"Have you tried tracking the number?" She puts the phone down and sits on top of your desk.

"I've tried calling my cell service, they can't do anything about it. If it keeps up, I just might change my number." You shake your head, "This is going to sound so dumb, but it has me so distracted. Apparently, I've been forgetting to charge my phone at night too? I swear I put it on the charger but then it dies in the night and that's why I've been late to work a few times."

Hailee tilts her head to the side, giving a sympathetic frown. "Sorry, girl. Hey!" She tries perking up, "Why don't we go get lunch and iced coffees? My treat?!" Her bright smile and shimmying shoulders get you to crack a smile. Jumping off your desk she claps her hands, "Yay!"

Suddenly there's a knock at your office door. Both of you stop the mini-iced coffee celebration and snap your attention to the nervous, uniformed teenager standing in the doorway.

"Delivery." he says shyly, looking between the two of you.

Hailee raises an eyebrow and smirks, looking you up and down, "Well, it wasn't delivered to my office."

You roll your eyes as you get up, smoothing your skirt down. Walking up to the boy, he quickly hands you a rather large bouquet of flowers. The intoxicating floral aroma hits you almost immediately, you cannot help but be astounded by the arrangement. Each individual flower is rather large, some darker than others; Ombres of red and burgundy into black.

"They're beautiful," You admire, inhaling deeply. "I don't think I've ever seen these before. Do you know what kind of flowers they are?" You ask the teen curiously.

"Black dahlia's," he recalled, and your stomach felt like it dropped with the mention of the name. "I don't think we've ever gotten a request for those at my family's shop before. That's the only reason I remember," he shrugged.

"Does Bucky have a brother? Because like, are you kidding me right now?" You glanced at Hailee who was making an over-the-top pouty face.

Asking the teen if he had CashApp to tip him, you quickly ushered him off. Searching through the flowers to see if there was a card or any indication that they were in fact from Bucky, but there wasn't.

That night, Bucky came over for dinner. He brought take out from a local Greek place that he really liked, but you were distracted. Just pushing the food around on your plate.

"You okay, doll?" His forehead puckered slightly in question.

"Yeah, um," You shake your head to try and focus, "Hey, thanks for the flowers today. That was super sweet and unexpected," considering you've been kinda stressed.

"Flowers? What flowers?" Bucky's posture stiffens.

"I got flowers delivered to me at work today, I just assumed it... was from you? Maybe it was a mistake then." There were suddenly mixed emotions being stirred around in a frenzy. If Bucky wasn't the one who sent the flowers, then who did? You tried saying they were dropped in your office by accident, but it just didn't feel right. It felt intentional.

"Well, honey, I don't know who it was, but it wasn't me." Bucky stands up from the kitchen table, grabbing his dinner plate. "Are you done?" He asks gesturing to your plate. You nod and he takes it as well, "But it's something I should do, and I'll be more conscious of it. I'm sorry,"

"No, Buck I wasn't-"

His lips press to the top of your head, "No, you're right. If anyone should be doing it, it should be me. Let me take the garbage out for you and we'll have the night to ourselves, yeah? Anything you want."

"Anything?" You repeat, in singsong with a grin.

He shakes his head, scraping the scraps from the plates into the garbage returning the grin, "I like where this is going," Tying off the bag, he holds up two fingers, "give me two minutes," he opens the door to the apartment and starts jogging down the hallway, "two minutes!!" you hear him call out.

The door to the apartment doesn't even fully shut before you hear the familiar buzz coming from your bag. Letting out an annoyed sigh, you angrily push away from the table and stomp over to the counter, dumping out your purse just to see Unknown Caller lit up on your phone.

You hit the green button so hard it doesn't register, so you do it again until it answers, "Hello?! What the FUCK do you want?!" No answer. But this time, you can hear someone breathing heavily. "You need some help. Seriously, leave me the fuck alone!" Hanging up, you slam the phone down onto the counter.

"Doll?" Bucky asks from the doorway, he sighs, "Was it that number bothering you again?"

"Yes!" You answer, flustered. "The next step is to just- change my number! I don't know what else to do."

Bucky steps in, closing in the door behind him with the back of his boot. His lips are pressed in tight line, "C'mere, darlin'," he holds his arms wide open, eyes soft. Dragging your feet, you meet him halfway and lay your head on his chest, "It's gonna be okay," he coos in your ear. "It's just some asshole with nothing better to do. They'll get bored soon enough. Worst case, we'll change your number. We can even go down to the store tomorrow and get you a new phone?" Bucky offers, trying to be optimistic as he caresses your arms up and down.

"I was just really hoping it wouldn't get to that point." You admit, pulling away from his chest just enough to look up at him.

"We'll do what we have to." Bucky smiles, cupping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger before pressing his lips to yours.

Letting your lips linger a moment as your eyes close, you inhale deeply, taking in the cypress scented soap still lingering on his skin from a shower he took earlier. It's your favorite. Hence why you keep buying it every time he runs out. Bucky's lips separate yours, and when just the tips of your tongues connect, a barely audible whimper escapes your mouth.

Like a gun starting a marathon, it was all Bucky needed to hear. Reaching down and gripping behind your thighs, he hoists you up. With a delighted squeak, you wrap your legs around his torso, laughing but keeping your lips on his as your hands run through his short hair. Using one hand flat against your lower back to keep you pressed into his chest, Bucky's other hand firmly grasped your ass. His fingers purposefully grazing the inseam of your jeans between your legs as he walked towards the bedroom.

Bucky sits on the edge of the bed, keeping you both upright. You break the mashing of tongues to re-adjust your position and straddle him. Leaning in, you suck his bottom lip into your mouth, letting your teeth graze just a tiny bit before letting go. Bucky exhales a drawn out, low groan before licking his lips. The look in his eyes is absolutely carnal as he tugs your shirt over your head and throws it across the room. Not even bothering with your bra, he just pulls the black lace cups down beneath your breasts, propping them up in exposure as he dips down to flick his tongue across your nipple.

Initially it makes you shudder, but as he continues to suck, nibble, lick, repeat, you find reprieve in grinding your hips down into the ever-growing bulge in his pants. Bucky lets out a stifled groan before switching his mouth to your other nipple. You smirk to yourself; you just love to tease this man. Although, if we're being honest, this isn't so easy on you right now either.

Roughly gripping both sides of his face, you bring his lips back to yours. You’re starting to feel needy for more of his touch. Becoming desperate to relieve this fuel lit fire. Bucky’s hands were firmly placed on each of your ass cheeks, assisting your already rolling hips forward and back. He snakes one hand between your bodies, slipping it down the front of your pants, his finger sliding once between your slit. You both moan loudly in unison into the kiss.

"Fuuuck..." Bucky breathed, tilting his head back just slightly that your lips pull apart. "You're already so fucking wet for me," his lascivious eyes lock onto yours, his breathing already becoming rather ragged.

Hearing his debauched voice, knowing just that single glide of his finger has him aching so badly, has ignited a new spark in you. "It's all yours, baby," you purred. Biting the bottom corner of your lip, you slowly get off his lap. Hooking each of your pointer fingers into the front pockets of Bucky's jeans, you encourage him to stand up as you drop to your knees before him.

As he's fumbling with the button and zipper, you stare up at him with tantalizing eyes, your hands firmly grazing along his muscular thighs. Once he's able to get it open, you help start to shimmy down his jeans and boxer briefs passed his hips until they pool on the floor. Bucky's thick, long cock springs up at almost eye level in enthusiasm, instantly making your mouth water. Sticking your tongue out as far as you possibly can, you lock eyes with Bucky and press the tip to your tongue, dragging it to a flick.

Sucking in a breath through his teeth, his body quivered at the first contact. You smile as you taste the initial saltiness on your tongue, licking your lips before hollowing out your cheeks and taking him into your mouth. Bucky exhales deeply, his head starting to tilt back but he stops, making sure he maintains eye contact with you. You draw back, pressing your tongue upward firmly, go forward, and go back again. After a moment, a rhythm gets going, you now move your tongue side to side as you bob front to back, sucking harder.

"That's it," Bucky coaxes, "That's my good fucking girl," a small whimper escapes your throat at his words of praise. You clamp your legs together a little tighter as it's getting harder to ignore the incessant throbbing and growing wet spot between your legs.

The next thing you know, his hands are in your hair, gathering it up into a makeshift ponytail. Grasping his shaft with your hand steadily, you use that to guide your mouth, twisting and gliding easily. You know it's his weakness. Bucky's hips start to buck up into your mouth as he pulls your head down further onto his throbbing cock. Through now teary eyes you’re determined to watch as his face starts to contort with pleasure, his moans music to your ears just as your gagging is to him.

"You look...Ahh...so...fucking...pretty," Each word comes out with a drive of his hips into your mouth. In the dim lighting of the room, completely blissed out on pleasure, he looks like a fucking god. And he's mine. The thought alone is enough to make you explode. "Ugh!" Bucky growls, "I can't take it anymore! C'mere!" With a small 'pop', he pulls out and grabs underneath your arms and tosses you onto the bed.

Giggling, you wipe the excess saliva off your swollen, red lips as you push back further onto the bed. Bucky pulls your jeans and panties down and off in one swift motion before kneeling onto the bed. His eyes are glazed over, solely focused on between your legs. He crawls upward, and it's purely feline as he dips down, his mouth creating a seal and sucking once.

The combination of a loud moan and gasp get ripped straight from your lungs as you practically convulsed off the bed from being so aroused. Bucky quickly and securely locks your thighs in place to keep them open and from you going anywhere. He grinned, watching every single movement.

"Eyes on me, princess," he ordered. Pressing down on your lips, you nodded in anticipation. Leaning in, Bucky skimmed his lips on your very inner thigh, placing a feather light kiss that made your entire abdomen tense.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

"Fuck," Bucky sits back up on his knees, taking his phone out of the pocket of his jeans that was still around his ankles. "Hello?" You stare up at him in complete disbelief, "What, now?" He looks down at you on the bed, giving a sympathetic look and mouths 'sorry'. Letting out an annoyed sigh, he drags a hand down his face. "Yeah... yeah. No- I understand... Okay. Yep. I'll be there. Bye." He hangs up the phone.

"Don't say it," you bite out, crossing your arms over your chest and closing your legs.

Bucky takes a deep breath, "I have to go back, a mission came up."

"Annnd, you said it," you look up at the ceiling, refusing to keep that eye contact that you were so adamant on not even a minute ago.

"It sounded pretty important, Doll." Bucky is off the bed, pulling up his pants and re-adjusting himself in them.

"It always is," you mutter under your breath. Sighing, you just accepted the fact that your night is completely ruined. "So, what you're telling me is, that I'm getting cock blocked by The Avengers?"

Bucky sits on the bed, placing a delicate hand on your cheek, "I'm really sorry. I'll make this up to you tenfold, promise." He kisses you softly, "I have to go. I'll contact you as soon as I can. I love you," He offers a small smile.

You sigh, knowing you can never let him leave on bad terms, "I love you too, Buck." Sitting up you give him a hug and a few extra kisses that probably made him late.

Still sitting in bed after Bucky had gone, you felt irrationally irritated by how he left. Tapping on your thighs, a headache was already brewing from the pent-up sexual tension that you were unable to get out. That's when you suddenly remembered a little something on your phone that might just help you out in this situation. There was this one particular time you and Bucky decided to record yourselves having sex, and you've never went back and watched it. If there was ever a time to go back and do so...

Excitedly, you go over to the dresser. You pull open your underwear drawer and dig through all the way to the back, where you stash your favorite vibrator. You click the silicone button a few times to make sure it's charged, and all the intensity settings worked before laughing menacingly to yourself and closing the drawer. Tossing the toy onto the bed, you walk out to the kitchen.

Your phone was where you had left it earlier, still slammed face down on the counter. Sashaying over, you notice that there's an applecore sitting next to it. This is odd, because you didn't have one and Bucky is normally very meticulous when it comes to cleaning and picking up after himself. Going to throw it out, you realize there is no garbage bag in the trash can and suddenly it makes sense. Bucky was in a rush to leave; he probably didn't have the time to replace the bag. So, you do it yourself, and throw out the eaten fruit.

Getting back to your room with your phone, you notice that your underwear drawer is open. Pursing your lips and narrowing your eyes, you look from the bed, to the dresser, back to the bed. I could have sworn I closed that. Then again, maybe it's just the headache coming on. You close the dresser drawer, and all too eagerly jump under the covers.

The ambiance for a little 'self-love' right now is almost too perfect. Your bedroom is dimly lit with only a mood lamp and the fog covered streetlamps from down below your apartment. The light patter of rain hit against your bedroom window and fire escape underneath it, while some light thunder rolled some distance away.

Scrolling through your phone, it wasn't hard to find exactly what you were looking for. Pressing 'play', you're watching a side view of you taking Bucky from the back. Your mouth drops open slightly, seeing it from a third person view. Bucky has his Vibranium hand on the side of your face, pushing you down further into the mattress and he is just relentless. And the sounds, God the sounds. You grab the vibrator, turning it on and quickly placing it onto your already sensitive and swollen clit and start rubbing it and soft circles.

"Look at how good you take it,"

"Oh, God!"

"Are you gonna come for me?"

"Mhm,"

"I can't hear you, princess,"

"Can I come Bucky? Please, please let me..."

"Of course, my good girl can come. Here... lean down more...open those legs wider...touch yourself...yeah...fuck, yeah...just like that baby,"

The bed is practically shattering underneath you as Bucky, who isn't even there, coaxes you into having an orgasm with yourself. You rub the vibrator more intensely, knowing you’re about to come hard from the pent-up tension this evening. The lights surge briefly in the apartment from the passing storm, just as your head presses down further against the pillows and the ripples of pleasure aggressively take over your body.

The lights go out momentarily, and that's when you see the silhouette of a tall, dark hooded figure standing on your fire escape looking into your window.

The lights come back on a second later and you’re panting. Both from the release and from what you saw. The cognizance hits you that you just came in front of a total stranger. Oh, and maybe that I might have a stalker.

The cops came, looked around, made you feel like an idiot, took a report, and left. Not feeling comfortable staying in the apartment for the night, you called Hailee, who offered up her spare bedroom.

Sitting across from you with her legs crossed on the couch, her hair in a bonnet, a glass of wine, and blue raspberry vape, she leaned in, listening intently to the details leading up to this moment.

“Soo… you know I’m gonna ask,” she starts.

You sigh, “I don’t know when I’m going to tell Bucky. I always feel so guilty when he’s away and something happens.”

Hailee’s face scrunches as she waves her hand in dismissal, “No, no not that,” You raise an eyebrow at her in confusion. “Can I see it?” She lowers her voice, but it’s oozing with hope.

“Bitch,” both your eyebrows raise in aghast, realizing what she’s actually asking.

“What?! Come onnnn,” She whines, pressing her hands together in plead and pouts her lip.

“Oh my god, Hailee! No! Just… no.”

Rolling her eyes she composes herself again, “Okay, so like, you ever just… look at a man, and you just know?” Her hands wave around as she’s trying to explain, “Like, that man can fuck? I feel like that’s Bucky. And so…” Hailee looks so determined right now, “s-shame on you!” She points directly at you, this is comical, “for not sharing the video evidence! Because now I’m convinced you have a boring, vanilla sex life!”

Leaning back against the kitchen counter sipping your glass of water, you hear yourself coming down from the highs of ecstasy through your phone. Hailee’s wide eyes are glued, mouth dropped open, speechless, for once. The sound finally cuts off.

“Are you sure he doesn’t have a brother because-”

You quickly snatch the phone out of her hand, “Okay, you got what you wanted. Can we be serious now?!”

“Yeah,” Hailee shakes her head, “yeah, of course…” she takes a deep breath, “I’m just saying, you seriously have some career options if your current job doesn’t work out though.”

“Hailee!!”

“Okay! I’m sorry!” Her hands go up in a surrender, “but you put in a police report, and I mean, of course you can stay here. What else are you going to do?”

*Ding*

“Hang on, I just got a text.”

“Who the fuck would be texting you this late?” Hailee asks, getting off the couch to read the text with you over your shoulder.

Together you read the message:

Part 2 coming soon.

If you enjoyed this, please check out my masterlist

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @wintrsoldrluvr

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dronebiscuitbat · 21 hours

Text

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 18)

N was peacefully in sleep mode, wrapped around something he inherently wanted to protect, whatever it was, it was pleasantly cooler than the rest of his body, and he found himself bringing it closer to him.

“En! En! En!” A small little voice chirped into his audio receptors, but even still he remained in sleep mode, where all that was active was his most base code.

That voice was no threat, it was the opposite, it meant love and protection, it was someone who belonged with him, no need to panic, no need to disrupt recharge.

His programming pulled the source closer.

Love. Protect. Mine. Those keyphrases ran on repeat within the part of his system that was always active, always ready to immediately jump into action even when he was asleep.

“Shhh… Tera let your dad sleep…” A second, very sleepy voice met his audio receptors, sending more code running through that system.

Freind. Partner. Love. Protect. Safe.

Still no reason to disrupt charge. Partner not in distress. Offspring not in distress.

“Zi!” He felt something shuffle against him, and the sudden removal of the weight in his arms, finally he snapped out of sleep mode, visor and eyelights popping on all at once in a sudden outburst of conscious thought.

Tera-

“Huh…?” He asked noone, blinking around dumbly, his eyes landed on Uzi, who was currently filling yet another bottle with oil. Tera was unplugged, rolling excitedly in her arms as she impatiently waited for her feed.

“Sorry, I tried to let you sleep.” She said sheepishly, before finishing what she was doing and rolling back down her hoodie, she rubbed her side, apparently all the attention was beginning to make it sore.

“S’okies…” He slurred, still groggy. Dang, what background process was running that had him this out of it?

“Can't believe you have a full size bed and we both used the couch.” She grumbled as she slowly squeezed the oil into Tera’s port, he blushed, oh yeah, they'd cuddled all night…

“Hey the past week's been crazy, you can't blame me for falling asleep.” He defended, not giving into the fact he'd been having a little trouble sleeping without her there.

“Fair.”

Uzi looked disheveled, like she'd just lost a fight or crash landed, her beanie was crooked and her hoodie was lopsided, there were lines under her eyelights that indicated poor sleep.

“How did you sleep?” He asked on instinct, stretching as he splayed out on the couch, he wouldn't lie, it was incredibly comfortable.

“Meh… weird dream.” That was typical for Uzi at this point, “weird” probably didn't describe them very well “terrifying” and “prophetic” was probably a better description.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked, only for her to yawn and shake her head, she would put it up on her conspiracy board when she was next home, it was way easier to sort out that way.

“I'm good.”

N looked slightly concerned, he hoped she wasn't bottling in any emotions, she tended to be good at that.

“I got a message from Thad?” She suddenly said, although it was clear she was talking more to herself, N felt his core flip at the mention of the drones name.

Usi had just checked her system messages (and they were nearly always empty) and found several green colored messages awaiting in her inbox.

WID-Thad: Hey Zi, throwing party this wknd, ur still coming right?

WID-Thad: It's gonna b outside. Don't worry, @ nite

WID-Thad: Or r u gonna need a babysitter fr the kid?

The kid? Oh… oh no.

“Thad knows about Tera…” Uzi whispered, living one of her greatest nightmares, how- how did he find out?

“How'd he find out?” N asked as if he read her mind. She wasn't in the headspace to think about that, not when Thad, the least gossipy person she knew, knew about Tera.

“I don't know! I thought I was doing well in hiding it!” She pulled at her hair, eyelights hollow and the feeling of extreme anxiety crawling up her mechanical spine.

Ohnonononononono….

“I mean it's not all bad? What did he say exactly?” N could immediately tell she had started to freak out, and took Tera in his arms, standing up just to put a hand on Uzi's shoulder.

“Uh… if I needed a-uh babysitter to come to his party?” She tried to breathe, maybe it was some sort of weird, oddly coincidental misunderstanding?

“I mean… I would…” He admitted, but that made sense, he was the one who adopted her, that was the main name on those papers, not her.

“Yeah but he asked me that. I'm not- at least not officially!” She stammered, trying to both claim ownership and avoid it at the same time, two juxtaposing desires, to be seen as edgy and mean so that she could protect herself, and all soft and gushy and parental, bragging about her kid.

It was all very confusing.

“It's okay! Maybe it's just Thad?” N offered, smiling like he really, truly meant it.

It was not just Thad.

When Uzi left N's apartment later that day to track down Thad and figure out exactly where he'd found out from. She'd been approached by drones she didn't even know, asking her how the baby was and how N was doing. Like they totally didn't ignore her existence for her entire life.

The entire colony seemed to know. N had just brought Tera home, how has it spread this quickly! And the assumptions! Several drones had asked how long her and N had been together, one had even asked how well her and N's code fit together.

How was she supposed to answer!? Other than how she did, which was a gruff “Bite me, none of your business.” Before she continued her warpath to Thad’s room, a blush slowly but surely growing everytime she was stopped, congratulated, or questioned.

When she did eventually get to the door, she pounded on it with a fury. How the hell did everyone know so soon?!

“Zi? Woah… you look pissed…” Thad opened the door first with a confused smile, then extreme nervousness, glancing from side to side and backing up slowly.

She shoved him wordlessly into his apartment (which was littered with sports memorabilia) and followed him inside, unleashing her tail to close the door behind her with a aggressive smack.

“How the fuck did you find out about Tera?” She asked, so serious that Thad's eyelights gained a few extra lines underneath them.

“Tera? Is that the kids name? It's cute!” He replied, clearly trying to appease her.

Her tail came up to point at him, saliva dripping from it's needle-like teeth, each drip causing his carpet to singe slightly. It's hot organic breath blowing over his visor.

“Wasn't what I asked Thad.” She put a hand on her hip. She wasn't really controlling her tail right now, but she did agree with it's sentiment, less small talk- let's get to the point.

“Right! Right! No need to get the tail involved!” He gulped, backing away from her tail slowly, putting both his hands up in surrender.

“I overheard your Dad talking to some of the WDF! That and Lizzy said she saw you and N walking into his new apartment with a baby! I drew conclusions?!” He stammered out rather loudly. Sweat appearing and falling rapidly down his visor.

“Okay sure, but why does everyone know!” She exclaimed, raising both her hands in irritation and stomping angerly. If it was just Thad she may not have even minded, but it wasn't was it, it was freaking everyone!

“Lizzy is a blabbermouth and your Dad isn't much better…?” He suggested, still attempting to get away from her irate tail, which had begun chasing him as much as it could while still attached to her.

“I didn't say shit Zi! I knew better!” He exclaimed, looking more and more freaked out of the fleshy appendage as it had somewhat backed him up against the wall.

She sighed, groaning as she put her tail away. Of course it was freaking Lizzy!, she didn't even blame her dad for this one, dispite his everything, he kept family matters pretty tight lipped- he probably hadn't said much.

“Dammit… Sorry Thad, I just… didn't want anyone else to find out about uh… her.” Her voice became… not soft but no longer as aggro.

“Hey it's cool. Didn't think you'd ever want kids though, did N wear you down or something?” He chuckled, scratching the back of his head awkwardly, looking at her with an eyebrow raised.

“Uh! No! She's- She's not mine. Er, not mine mine. She's adopted, and N adopted her, not me.” She explained, violet breaching her defenses as she stammered over her words. Dammit not now! Not in front of Thad!

“Oooooh, yeah that… that makes way more sense. He always seemed more the type then you.”

“Y-yeah…” She couldn't help it when her voice lost it's edge. Even when she tried to hide it.

“Lizzy took a picture though, she kinda does look like… yours.” He sent her a photo over short-range, and she immediately brought it up to her view.

And yeah, he was absolutely right.

It wasn't just the fact that Tera had purple eyelights as well (it's not like that was uncommon.) But her and N were looking absolutely enamored with her, she was even gripping onto his arm as they were walking to get a better look.

She uh… did not remember doing that.

She looked back up at Thad, who was smiling warily, trying to look supportive but also looking incredibly nervous.

“Uuuuuuuuugh” A blush had taken over her face again, this time impossible to hide.

So that's how everyone knew… there was a picture floating around. Photo evidence of her being soft and squishy with a baby.

“Uh Zi…?” Thad looked at her with an amused smile, quickly recovering from her threats once noticing her bravado had deflated.

“My life is over…” She replied, looking like she was suffering deeply, her arms drooped to the floor.

“Thats… probably overdramatic.” He chuckled, stepping closer into her personal space, he hadn't been scared of Uzi, not really. He wasn't sure why, but he'd never got the impression she ever wanted to actually hurt anyone as much as just scare them. He knew she could, and the tail was intimidating, but want to? Nah.

“Theres photo evidence of me being-ah!” She yelped, she was also always… dramatic, seemingly overanimated at times, some people found it off-putting, he found it endearing. A nice juxtaposition to his eternal mellow.

“Of you… being, motherly?” He asked with a smirk as she seemed to melt with embarrassment.

“Yes!”

“I don't think that's a bad thing. I mean, has it been bad for you so far?” He asked, cocking his head. Surely it hadn't, she looked happy in that picture, happier then he'd ever seen her before.

“Well uh, no…” She admitted, the people who had stopped her had all been relatively nice… not as mocking as she'd expected.

“I think it looks good on you! You can't be edgy all the time.” He replied, this time a wide smile on his face, honestly, Thad had known about Uzi's soft center for a long while. He had known her right before Nori died, she'd been… much sweeter then. Soft spoken but not shy.

“Yes I can! Bite me!” And there was the shield… oh well.

“Sorry. You're trying to help.” Oh. Now that was new, the Uzi he knew would never apologize for anything, much less for saying “Bite me.”

“No issue. So are you and N…?

“Uh… no, we're not… I'm just helping him take care of Tera, and uh… speaking of.” The way she stammered and sputtered told him a lot. Mostly that she was still hiding something that's for damn sure, but he didn't want to pry.

“Riiiiight…” He said as if he didn't quite believe her, and he didn't. There was no hiding it in that picture. Hell, they looked like they were married, not even just dating, with the soft looks they both had.

“Okay now actually Bite Me!” She shouted as she stomped off, but Thad stuck his head out of his doorway to shout back.

“You better be still coming!”

She grumbled all the way back to N's apartment, still being stopped every once in awhile to be asked questions, either about Tera, or about her relationship with N.

While her first instinct was to still snap at them, she found herself actively beginning to surpress it. None of these people were asking out of any sort of malice or trying to be mean. Some of them even looked genuinely happy for her.

So she answered them, possibly not in the best or friendliest way (her voice was still rough and a little rude.) But she did clear up a few things here or there.

“No N and I didn't have a baby. She's adopted.”

“No, N's on the paperwork, I'm just listed as a caretaker.”

And when she did reach N's apartment and opened the door. She found N on the floor, helping Tera roll around to chase her toy, a wide grin on his face as a peel of laugher escaped his adoptive daughter each time she was boosted forward gently by his hand.

His eyes snapped up to meet her and they immediately softened, and Uzi had to supress another blush.

Now that she knew he liked her, the signs were rather obvious.

“What did you find out?” He asked, cute little head cock and all, she sighed, sending him the picture.

He blinked, before his face seemed to explode with color, taking a gander over the picture he couldn't help but think how much they both looked like parents.

“O-oh.” Was the only thing that came from his mouth, he look another look at Uzi, who was obviously far tenser than usual, she looked at him, and with only a beat of hesitation, threw herself onto his lap, wrapping her arms around him.

“Uh! Uzi-wha-” He stammered, was something wrong? She didn't typically initiate hugs like this unless she was extremely upset.

“Shut up and hold me goober.” Was all she said, holding him gently. He couldn't see the blush or the smile on her face that had appeared after she'd heard his core skip over a cycle when she'd made contact.

“Y-yeah okay…”

#murder drones #biscuitbites #nuzi #uzi doorman #serial designation n #n and uzi #tera doorman #murder drones thad #oof im late sorry about that #uzi can be intimidating when she wants to be #n's subconscious is smarter then n himself #lizzy's a blabbermouth #khan isn't in this case

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firewasabeast · 1 day

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tommy loves to see buck flustered. since the day they first kissed and buck forgot how to form full sentences, tommy has made it his mission to do that as much as possible. it starts with small gestures that are apparently huge to buck, like surprising him at the fire station, buying him flowers, taking care of him when he’s sick, but then tommy does it with bigger things.

the first time he says I love you he’s so nonchalant about it, throwing it when buck thanks him for sticking around after a tough work day. “of course I’m here. I love you.” buck’s got a deer-in-the-headlights look, his mouth searching for words that won’t escape, until they finally do and he utters out an “I- I love you too” and tommy can’t keep up the act for long that time cause he needs to make out with the man he loves.

when tommy hears from the realtor that they got their dream house, he throws it in casually during dinner. It makes buck drop a forkful of diced potatoes on the floor.

he brings up their wedding four months before anyone proposes. they’re in the middle of watching a crappy wedding reality show and tommy tells buck that, while he doesn’t necessarily care about all the tiny aspects of wedding planning, he definitely knows he does not want five hundred lilies at our wedding because that’s got to smell like a funeral home. There’s silence, then buck finally mutters out “our… our wedding?” To which tommy simply nods and then buck is suddenly on his lap and they never do finish that episode.

when they do have their wedding, they decided to write their own vows and tommy was just being honest but when he tells buck “from the moment I met you, I wanted to get to know you more. I am so lucky I keep getting to know you forever” buck gets that speechless look on his face and he kisses tommy before he even reads his own vows and bobby has to jokingly remind him that he’s stealing his thunder.

It’s not like buck doesn’t make tommy flustered too. He has many times, just like asking him to his sisters wedding right after a bad first date. But tommy’s favorite time was when buck came home early from a shift and started packing a bag, and when tommy asked what he was doing buck just shrugged and said the adoption agency called and they needed to get to san francisco to meet their babies.

#911 #bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #tevan #buck x tommy #buck and tommy #im just having thoughts okay

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forever-once-gone · 2 days

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Day 5: When they want a romantic night, and instead you’re obsessing over a fictional character; jealousy jealousy <3

Part of the Love, Amour, Aur Pyaar drabble series for February! (lol)

Word count: 0.8k, 0.7k, 0.9k, 0.7k, 0.8k, 0.6k, 0.9k (respectively, for a total of ~5.8k) again, wayyyyy too long :(

Content and Warnings: soft yandere (though can be read as not yandere, for most of them), love, jealousy, SPOILERS FOR JJK AND SNK (though I think everyone knows about the current state of jujutsu kaisen and shingeki no kyojin finished ages ago now), insecurity, threats from Y/n, Hoseok's section gets spicy, mature 18+ content, baby talk in Hoseok's, grinding, gn reader for most of them except Hoseok's where reader is very vaguely implied to be afab, kissing, throwing pillows, implied cosplay sex (?) for Namjoon, lingerie in Namjoon's, isolation from loved ones, UNEDITED (I thought this day would be pretty tame, but with with this big paragraph, maybe it isn't?)

Author's note: Beep beep boop. Beep boop beep. Beep boop. Boop beep beep. Boop. Boop beep boop. Boop beep boop beep beep. Boop beep boop. Boop boop. ...Enjoy!

Seokjin (ft. Levi Ackerman from snk):

“It isn’t fair, you know, the fact that he had to go through so much. He was humanity’s strongest but really he was just an abused boy who did the best he could. He deserved so much better. I mean, at least he didn’t die. God knows that Hajime Isayama loves to kill all his characters.”

Seokjin just gritted his teeth, keeping his eyes locked with the wall.

“But like, still, considering everything, if one person deserved a true happy ending it was him.” You waved around your hand like a professor emphasizing the point they were trying to make as the other flipped through the pages of the manga you’d been talking about for the past fifteen minutes.

“Like, at least most of the other characters from Paradis had somewhat normal childhoods. They had some sort of happy memories, but Levi never got to have that joy. Everything in his life, when he would begin to cherish them, would get snatched from him! Petra, Gunther, Eld, Oluo, Furlan, Isabel, Erwin—all taken from him!” You pouted as you gazed down at Levi’s bandaged face, your frown only deepening at the sight of his missing fingers.

In a hushed voice, you said, “if I were Isayama, I’d have given him the best ending possible.” Then you let out a sigh before moving on from the sad page of Levi’s injuries. “But then again, Isayama barely gives anyone a happy ending, so the fact that Levi even survives is a miracle,” you mumbled near the end.

Jin just hummed, refusing to give you any proper response.

Just how many times do you need to discuss Levi when he’s right there in front of you? Quite rude of you to be talking about some other man in his thirties when your boyfriend has been sitting beside you for the past twenty five minutes. This should be considered cheating right? Emotional cheating, as you gush over some other guy instead of your handsome boyfriend? Seokjin sure thought so.

“You know the manga has been done for years, right?” Seokjin couldn’t bother hiding his snippy tone crossing his arms across his chest. “Maybe it’s time you get over it, and focus on more important things.”

Your brows furrowed together, looking up at him for the first time since you brought down the small stack of manga volumes from your bookshelf. You were greeted with the sight of you boyfriend sitting at the absolute far end of the couch from you, arms crossed, back straight, as he glared a hole into the wall beside the tv. He refused to look at you, even though you were sure he could feel your gaze with how he momentarily shifted in his seat.

“What’s this ‘more important thing’ I should be focusing on instead of Levi?” you asked, as you shut the book and placed it with the others on the coffee table in front of you.

Seokjin just shrugged his shoulders. “Idk, maybe your handsome boyfriend who finally had some free time today? You know, maybe him?”

His lips were downturned again, as you moved to sit right beside him.

You tried to fight back your smile by pressing a finger to your chin as if you were thinking. “But Levi doesn’t have free time today?”

Jin turned towards you so quickly, you were afraid he’d pull a muscle.

You giggled at the affronted look he gave you, mouth hanging open in disbelief.

“I’m just kidding!” you defended yourself, trying to pull his arms from his chest but failing miserably. “I’m sorry, okay? My gorgeous boyfriend is you, and I shouldn't be talking about some fictional character when he’s gotten dressed up so well for me. Isn’t that right?”

You managed to pull his arms away from his chest to give you a view of the nice clothes he had put on specifically for you. He wore your favourite clothes today, hoping you’d fawn over him, only for you to spend the better part of the past while talking about some drawing from a book. He thought you hadn’t noticed the effort he had put into today, but hearing evidence if your absolute attention had red creeping up his neck and onto his ears.

You threw yourself into his chest, causing his arms to wrap around you to steady the two of you. You nuzzled into him for a few seconds before looking up at him with a small grin.

“I love you, you know? More than anything and anyone. And I care more about our happy ending than anyone else’s, even if it is humanity’s strongest’s.” You strained up to press a kiss against his neck which left a chill against Jin’s skin, before settling down in his lap. Pleasure coursing through you at the sight of Jin’s pleased smile from below.

His arms tightened around you before he bent down to press against your forehead. “As long as you know who matters most,” he mumbled against your skin.

Yoongi (ft. Blade from hsr):

You finished up the simulated universe world. Even though you hadn’t gotten great relics this time around, you still got to collect the weekly rewards, so you couldn’t be too mad. But you had to admit, it did sting a bit.

You switched back to the character screen after salvaging the useless relics that you obtained and checking on your stock of stellar jades. Blade stared back at you as you fussed with the relics that you had currently adorned him with and tried to level up the one promising relic you had obtained. When you ended up with defense being levelled up for the second time, you gave up on the relic, instead just salvaging it as well.

You sighed as you clicked back to Blade, seeing him stare back at you before performing his idle, bringing his sword up to his eyes, inspecting it before bringing it behind to his back as it disappeared into shiny gold.

“Bladie, Bladie, Bladie… Why is it so hard to find good relics for you…?” You rested your chin in the palm of your hm gazing lazily at your monitor.

Blade, of course, did not reply. Instead he stared right through your soul as if putting the blame right on you.

“Hmm… I was so lucky when building Kafka, but the relics just suck when I’m farming for you.”

You clicked out of the character screen and instead ran around the map with Blade, listening to NPC dialogue and fulfilling random small tasks for stellar jade. You were out of trailblaze power and had nothing of significance to do. So you just enjoyed watching Blade’s mechanics as he interacted (being pretty liberal with the definition of “interact”) with other characters and took in his visuals.

He was your favourite character when you first started playing honkai star rail, but with time you realized you should probably try and make him stronger with more elite relics. It was harder than you originally thought. And now, even after a month of only farming for Blade, you had yet to pull what would be a legendary relic for him.

As you lamented your poor luck, you failed to notice the door to your gaming room opening behind you.

Yoongi creeped up behind you, listening to the music streaming its way out of the speakers he got for your set-up on your last birthday. He wasn’t surprised to see a zoomed in view of Blade’s face on your screen when he peered over your shoulder. He had expected it as soon as he’d heard the hsr soundtrack.

He stopped behind your chair, starling you as he began to speak. “Here I was hoping to see my wonderful spouse after work today, but instead I see them on a date with some depressed guy in my own home.” He sighed for effect, placing his hands on the back of your chair as he leaned over you to look at your screen.

“Oh hush,” you told Yoongi.

“What? So I can’t even speak up when I catch you with your second boyfriend now?” He placed his chin atop your head.

You laughed a bit, jostling Yoongi around a bit. “Don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt a date?” You finally played along.

“Not if it's between you and Blade, no it’s not. He doesn’t get to steal you away from me.” He wrapped his arms around your neck, holding you close against him almost as though he was pulling you away from Blade’s reach.

You held onto his arms as you laughed, feeling him press a kiss to the top of your head. Between laughs, you said, “Stop! You’re embarrassing me in front of my date.”

“Fuck your date.” He removed his arms from around you, spinning your chair around so you faced him. “You’re going on a date with me now.”

He pulled you up and out of your chair into his arms. He pulled you right into him until not even one air molecule was in between your bodies.

“Get dressed, I’m taking you out for dinner.” He reached a hand behind your intertwined bodies and turned off your pc with a pointed click.

He was willing to entertain your interest in other men so long as they were like Blade: fictional. The day he feels your interest swerving to real men, he wouldn’t take it so lightly.

Hoseok (ft. Choso from jjk):

“Look at him being all emo but so sweet!” you cooed at the man on the screen.

Choso was speaking to Yuuji about being brothers and just being all adorable, and it was getting on Hoseok’s nerves.

“Like when you look at him, you’d think he’s gonna be all grouchy or mean, but look at him—fuck, I’d ruin him.”

Hoseok’s eye was twitching.

“Like he’s so pure? But so hot? But so loveable? But so destroyable? I’d definitely ruin him.”

Hoseok’s blood pressure was rising.

“He’d be such a good father to my kids.”

Hoseok’s patience broke. “Well too bad Choso’s not real then since you wanna date him over me so badly!”

You jumped at Hoseok’s loud proclamation. You weren’t prepared for the enraged look on your sweet boyfriend’s face. Had you gone too far?

“I wasn’t being serious, baby,” you started, speaking as softly and level as possible. “He’s just a character that I find cute.”

Hoseok scoffed, his lips pulled into a frightening, annoyed half-smirk. “Yeah, a character that you want to have sex with.”

You placed a hand on his thigh, trying to calm him down. “Babe, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Pfft, so now you feel bad? Not when you were talking about how another guy was so hot and how you want to have kids with him? And how cute you find him? Do I mean nothing to you?”

Hoseok’s leg was shaking now, falling and dropping under your palm restlessly. You tried to smooth your hands over his leg to soothe him, but it only seemed to agitate him further.

He scoffed again, not even giving you a chance to defend yourself against his accusations. “You’ve never called me ‘destroyable.’ What, do I not get that right? Do I need to put red eyeshadow around my eyes and paint a black stripe over my nose for you to think me worthy of being the father to your kids?”

You winced. You didn’t think something as harmless as a fictional crush would upset your darling boyfriend so bad, but now you could see how you’d been out of line. I mean, maybe you wouldn’t like it if Hoseok had spoken about some other person, fictional or not, like that in front of you.

You crawled over to him on the couch, straddling his thighs despite how they shook even with your weight pressing down on them. He hadn’t stopped his periodic scoffs, his eyes locked on a point to the side as he seemed to be caught within his internal dialogue. He seemed to only be making himself madder with each second.

“Baby,” you called him, placing your hands on his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I was out of line.”

Hoseok just shook his head, still not meeting your eyes.

“I was being stupid,” you continued. “Choso is pretty—”

He scoffed once again, causing you to wince. Wrong way to go about the apology, yet again. Goodness, why did you suck at apologizing?

“—But! I love you, not him. If anyone is cute, it’s you. If anyone is hot, it’s you. If there is anyone who I find loveable, it’s you. If there’s anyone that I want to destroy, it’s you. So don’t be mad, baby, he’s nobody.”

You did feel a little weird about how you had to make it clear that Choso wasn’t stealing you from your boyfriend, but you hated to see Hoseok so upset.

And it seemed like Hoseok appreciated the reassurance, because he was finally looking at you.

He watched you for a second, as you continued to massage his shoulders while sat in his lap. Hoseok could see Choso over your shoulder on the tv, and it gave him some sort of kick to know that despite him being on screen, you had your back turned to Choso. Your full attention on him, only him.

The worry on your face made contentment bubble in his chest, this is exactly how he liked you: fawning over him.

“Yeah, baby?” He asked, pulling you into him by the hips until he had his face pressed into your neck, placing small kisses on your pulse. “You like me more than him?”

You felt heat rise to your cheek as his hands slipped under your shirt, rubbing one hand on the small of your back as the other gripped at your waist, guiding you to grind against him.

“Yeah…” you managed to get out between soft gasps as he began to move you harder and faster against his hard-on.

He bit into your neck, rubbing his tongue over the teeth marks he left behind possessively. “You don’t sound all that convincing, baby.”

“I, um, I—” you gulped, overwhelmed by how quickly the situation had changed. You could feel him getting harder and harder under you. “I mean it, I only see you that way.”

Hoseok pulled away from the marks he’d sucked and bit into you. Looking up at you with a hooded gaze. “How you gonna prove it to me?”

You didn’t know what to say. Isn’t it proof enough with the way you were panting on his lap with his bulge pressing into you?

“Would you do anything to prove it to me?”

You nodded frantically at the olive branch he had extended towards you. He was giving you an out, and you would be a fool to miss it.

“Yeah, baby? You’d do anything?”

“Yes,” you purred, head falling onto his shoulder as he pulled your shirt off of you. “—do anything for you,” you said between gasps.

“Good,” he said, pressing his lips to yours, reaching down to unbuckled his belt. “Then make me a dad.”

Namjoon (ft. Nanami from jjk):

Nanami Kento was the living embodiment of a gentleman. The guy you’d bring home to your parents. The guy you’d imagine living the rest of your life with. The guy to buy you a house in the suburbs with a white picket fence. The guy who’d listen to your rants about work drama, or friend drama, or family drama, any drama really.

He was perfect.

And he reminded you entirely of your boyfriend, Namjoon. The man you could always rely on, the only one who you’d brought home to your parents, the man who forwarded you real estate listings every weekend as he’d sweet talk you with the plans he had for your future together.

He was perfect.

And you needed to see Namjoon in a Nanami cosplay.

“Please, baby, pleaseeeee.” You gave him the best puppy dog eyes that you possibly could. “Please, please, please, please! I’ll do anything for you if you do this for me!” You had your hands pressed together as you begged in front of him.

He had just gotten out of the shower after a hard day of dance practice, and with just a towel covering his bottom half, he was bombarded with you and the outfit spread out on the bed.

“Please, please, please! If you do this for me, I’ll even put that lingerie set that you got me as a gag gift, just please, try it on.” You grabbed his hand, pulling him from the ensuite door, closer to the bed. He had to hold onto his towel with the other hand to prevent it from falling from how hard you were pulling him. You’d, in the time it took him to shower, spread out an off-white suit, a blue dress shirt, a set of brown suspenders, and a yellow tie with brown animal-esque spots out for him.

“Love, I do not want to get into a suit right now. I just showered.” His hair was dripping onto the clothes as he looked down at them.

“Baby! Please! It won’t be for long, I swear! I’ll get you out of it as quickly as I get you into it, promise!”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow at your words, a smug smile shining down at you. “Oh~ I see how it is. Me in this outfit, you in that skimpy lingerie—you seem to have a very precise idea in mind of how you want this to go, hmm?”

You couldn’t help the embarrassment from washing over you. You punched his shoulder lightly with a whine, before wrapping your arms around his muscular bicep, pulling yourself into his side. You pressed your cheek against his cool, damp skin as a way to hide your shame. You could feel him chuckling at just how quickly he’d seen through you.

“I wasn’t thinking of only that… I also wanted to take some pics of you in the cosplay ‘cause I thought you’d look cool in it…”

“Fucking liar,” he laughed more heartedly at your piss poor attempt of saving yourself from further humiliation.

“I swear!” you defended yourself, looking up to see his dimples smiling down at you, eyes filled with love. Your heart stopped for a second looking at the handsome man. Did you need to see him in a Nanami cosplay to have some fun? Cause right now, looking at his sparkling eyes and wide smile, you didn’t think you’d be able to give him the chance to put on the outfit before you jumped at him.

He raised a questioning eyebrow at your sudden stillness. “Not gonna beg me to indulge in your fantasies anymore?”

You shook your head before pressing your cheek back into his bicep, only for him to pull him into his chest instead. He was looking down at you with that look again. The look that reminded you of how this was the only mad you’d ever consider marrying.

“I think,” he said, swinging you around his arms a bit teasingly as he continued to look down at you with his wet hair, and glossy skin, “that I could put on this outfit despite how tired I am if you stay true to your promise of that lingerie. Think you can do it?”

You thanked God everyday for blessing you with a man who indulged you as much as Namjoon did.

“A-huh,” you replied, breathless.

“Okay, then get to it.” He gave his head a shake, causing the water from his hair to rain down onto you, making you giggle, the tension easing. “You get as long as it takes me to put on this cosplay to figure out that set of straps that they called lingerie before I come to get you myself, okay?”

Jimin (ft. Alhaitham from genshin):

“Turn it off.”

“No.”

“Turn it off.”

“No.”

“Turn it off, please?”

“No, thanks.”

“Oh, come on!” He threw his arms up before throwing himself face first onto the bed. He whined into the duvet convulsing around before rolling onto his back when you didn’t come over to him to soothe him.

“You hate me,” he said, looking at the ceiling.

“Nope.”

“You do, I know you do.”

“Nope, I do not.”

“You do, otherwise you wouldn’t be playing that stupid, partner-stealing man’s story quest.”

“Nope, it just means I like the character.”

“It means you hate me.” He shuffled up to sit beside you at the headrest of the bed. Letting his head fall onto your shoulder as he watched Alhaitham’s inexpressive face on the phone screen. Stupid, stupid man.

“Just admit it, you hate me. We might as well break up since you like this guy more than me.”

“Literally when did I say that?” you sighed, trying your best to pay attention to the plot of the quest as Jimin continued interrupting you.

“Just now.”

“When?”

“When you just said it.”

“I actually didn’t say anything, Jimin.”

“You said it in your mind and I could tell.”

“Jimin.” You turned to look at him. He was still glaring at Alhaitham. “You’re always doing too much.”

“Just admit you want to break up.” He weaseled his way from your shoulder into your lap, his head right under where you held your phone, looking up at you with fake teary eyes.

“Baby, it’s a video game.”

“It’s a declaration that you hate me and that you want to break up.”

“Jimin, if you keep saying that, I might actually think this is your way of breaking up with me.” You went back to tapping at your phone and trying your best to recount what you were meant to do next.

“I would never!” Jimin defended, burying his face into your stomach.

You relented to his whining, bringing one hand down to run through the hair on the back of his head.

He was picking at the side stitches of your shirt absentmindedly though he was still buried face first into your stomach.

You felt him mumble something into your stomach. “Hmm?”

He looked up at you, repeating what he’d said, “I’m gonna delete your account if you don’t pay attention to me now.”

“Jimin!” You turned off your phone, trying to push him away from you only for him to hold onto you tighter, resuming his position against your stomach. “I’ve spent years on that, you can’t just delete it!”

He’d followed through on these sorts of threats before, so you knew he was not just joking when he said this. “I don’t care, I’ll delete it if it gets between you and me.”

He’d deleted contacts of friends, peers, and coworkers from your phone before, but you never thought his jealousy would extend to video game personas.

“Jimin,” you stressed. “He’s just a bunch of pixels on a screen.”

“And those unfeeling pixels are stealing your attention from me.” He looked up at you with a pout that would be cute if he wasn’t being completely disagreeable once again.

“I literally spent the whole week with you, didn’t open genshin once, why can’t I just play for a few hours now? Besides, aren’t you supposed to be at work right now anyway?”

“Can’t go when my spouse is threatening to leave me.” He was kicking his feet now, clearly content with how his threats had worked. Your phone was off now and you were looking at him, speaking with him.

“Goodness, Jimin. I really don’t know what to do with you.”

“You could kiss me for a start.”

“Not after how much you’ve annoyed me today.”

“So you are breaking up with me? For a stupid fictional scholar? A scribe?”

“You know an awful lot about the man you despise so much, why is that?”

“He’s trying to steal you away from me. Successfully stealing you away from me. God forbid I did some research on the man.”

“Just for that attitude, I’m not gonna give you any kisses.”

“Okay,” he straightened out in front of you, sitting between your legs. “Then I’ll give you kisses.”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek with a goofy smile. Then your forehead. Then your other cheek. Then your nose. With each kiss, another bit of your anger subsided.

“Now you kiss me.” He puffed out his cheek, bringing it in front of your face.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” You grabbed his cheeks, and turned him to face you before giving him the proper kiss he’d been craving all afternoon.

He instantly melted into you, attempting to deepen the kiss, only for you to pull away from him.

“You only get more if you promise not to delete my account.”

He huffed. “Fineeee. I promise… for now.”

You smiled, shaking your head. “I guess that’s good enough… for now.”

Taehyung (ft. Howl Pendragon from Howl’s Moving Castle):

“Do you prefer blond Howl or black-haired Howl?” You were lying down on the couch with Taehyung lying on top of you, his head resting on your chest as Howl’s Moving Castle playing. You had stopped rubbing his back when you asked him the question, though your eyes remained on Howl turning into green slime over his dyed orange hair.

Taehyung just grunted, half asleep. His arm reached behind him, forcing your arm to move up and down his back again before letting go when you’d resumed your previous ministrations.

“What do you think?” you asked him again.

He was practically asleep, maybe it wasn’t the best time to be asking him about the movie.

Just when you thought he had fallen asleep he replied, “Orange-haired.”

You laughed. “Be serious for a second.”

“I am.” His arms tightened around your back, pressing harder into you.

“Come on, you’re not being serious. Blond or black?”

With his voice heavy with sleep he said, “Black.”

You hummed at his answer. “Yeah, black hair is nice on him. But I liked him blond better.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“His actual hair colour is black. It suits him better. It’s his true self.”

You pondered. “I guess so, but I just am a sucker for his blond look. Makes him feel… I don’t know. I don’t really have an explanation, I just like it.”

Taehyung was quiet again, you turned to check if he was asleep now but instead he was looking up at you with a scowl. “Is this your way of telling me you want me to go blond again?”

You brought a hand up to cover your smile, knowing it’d only cause him to be more adamant. “No, Tae. I was just talking. People always seem to discuss which Howl version they like more. Just wanted to know what you thought.”

“Well, I think I should go blond.”

“Literally why?”

“Cause you’re thinking of some other blond man. Want you to only think of me when you think of blond.”

There he goes again. “God, Tae. Forget I said anything.”

“No no, go on about how you hate my black hair and want to see me fry my hair to be blond again.” He was now propped up over you, using his hands to keep him hovering over you. All his sleep whisked away due to the arising fight.

“I wasn’t trying to imply anything, Tae. I love you how you are, I love your black hair.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

You were getting angry. Over the past few weeks he was getting more and more accusatory. Accusing you of not loving him. Of wanting to change him. Of having ‘wandering eyes.”

You were tired.

You didn’t even want to defend yourself at this point.

“Come on, say it.”

You closed your eyes, biting at your cheek as you tried to control your frustration. The last thing you want to do is give into his taunts and turn this into a full-on verbal fight.

You opened your eyes, bringing your hands to the nape of his neck, trying to pull him back into your chest. “Baby, let’s just watch the movie.”

Tae allowed you to play with his hair as he considered whether to drop the topic. With the way you were caressing him, he really wanted to, but the nagging voice in the back of his head urged him to continue.

You watched him analyze your face for a minute or two. And you did the same for him, counting the beauty marks scattered across his beautiful face. His black hair falling into his eyes as he held himself above you. It was hard to believe that this angelic man was the one who would make day-to-day life so difficult at times.

“Can we?” you asked. You brushed his hair back from his eyes, holding his bangs back for a second before letting them fall back to their place.

His eyes flitted between yours, debating. Then he gave in, falling into your arms once again. “Fine. But I choose the next movie, and I’m gonna make sure there are no pretty blonds in it.”

Jungkook (ft. Gojo Satoru from jjk):

“Nah, I’d win!” Jungkook yelled, running away from you, ducking from the pillows you’d throw after him.

“Stop it!” You picked up the fallen pillow before resuming your chase.

“Nah, I’d win! And then—” he traced a line across his neck with a wide smile, before throwing his head to the side, tongue sticking out.

“JUNGKOOK! Stop it!” You threw the pillow at him again, but Jungkook easily dodged it, running into the kitchen.

He giggled loudly as you chased him around the kitchen island, stopping when you stopped to catch your breath but then giving you another taunt to make you chase after him again.

“What happened to your big strong boyfriend, huh? Couldn’t keep up with Sukuna now could he?” He asked with a wide toothy smile.

“Jungkook!” You called the name through your snarling teeth.

“What did you say again?” He put on the most atrocious imitation of your voice humanly possible and said, “He’s Gojo Satoru! He’s the strongest sorcerer alive! He’ll beat Sukuna easy!”

“Jungkook, I’m gonna kill you!”

“Oh, like Sukuna killed your little sassy boyfriend?”

You threw the pillow at him again, only for it to hit the Gojo figurine you had placed on your side table. You both watched it tumble onto the ground.

It was still in one piece, but seeing it on the ground made your anger flare up even further.

“Jungkook,” you sneered, turning to look at his frightened face.

He had his hands up in defeat. “I didn’t hit it, you did.”

“Jungkook,” you bit out the word, stalking towards him.

“Hey, baby, it’s fine! Look, it’s fine.” He picked up the figurine, and to be fair, it was fine. But your anger didn’t care about that now. Your anime/manga boyfriend was dead, and your actual boyfriend was being a dick about how upset you were over it.

You had picked up the pillow again, walking towards him slowly, and as you pulled your arm back to hurl it at him again with a scream, he sped off for your bedroom.

“Y/n! I’m sorry!” He didn’t seem all that sorry considering he was back to giggling again like a child as you ran after him. He jumped around couches and tables before slamming the door closed before you could follow him into the bedroom.

“Open the door!” You slapped your hand at the door a couple of times, jiggled the doorknob only to find it locked. “Jungkook, let me in!”

“Nope!” He popped the p sound, giggling behind the door. “You gonna kill your real boyfriend just cause the inferior, fictional one died?”

He was honestly very happy that Gojo had died. He was tired of not being the only golden man in your eyes anymore. Jungkook was the one who was good at everything that he did, not that dumbass anime man. And he had proved it, didn’t he. Inadvertently. After all, Gojo was dead, so he wasn’t perfect now.

Jungkook was full of glee.

“Jungkook, if you don’t come out right now, I’m gonna rip your collectible posters.”

He just giggled again. He could imagine your angry frown perfectly. How you probably wanted to destroy all his anime memorabilia as revenge for how he made fun of Gojo’s death. But he knew you were all bark and no bite.

“No, I’m not opening it.”

“Open it.”

“Hmmm,” he pretended to think out loud. Then: “nope!”

“Jungkook, you’re gonna have to come out eventually, and when you do, I’m gonna be waiting right here for you.”

Jungkook laughed, but when three hours had passed and you remained in front of the door, periodically knocking and asking to be let in, he didn’t find it as funny anymore. Well, it was still a little funny, but also it was a bit scary how your anger wasn’t subsiding.

Jungkook listened to the doorknob rattle from the bed, but didn’t bother opening his eyes. It was locked, you couldn’t get in.

So then could someone explain why the door was swinging open and you were suddenly set on top of his supine position. Your eyes red with both anger and sadness, your scowl set deep.

“Hey, Y/n,” he said sweetly.

“Hi, Jungkook. Wanna repeat what you said earlier?” Your hands were pressed against his pecs, face leaning in closer to him with each second.

“I don’t think I should,” he said with an eased smile. His arms were crossed behind his head, as if he didn’t have his angry spouse sitting on top of him at the moment.

“Not gonna gloat that Gojo’s dead?”

He laughed, jostling you around with each breath. “Don’t need to. You already know,” he said with a smirk.

You took your pillow from beside his head and smacked him upside the head with it. The soft downy fluff only made Jungkook erupt into giggles once again, his hands coming up to try (and failing) to prevent subsequent hits. He only laughed louder and louder, until he had wrapped his hands around your torso and tugged you into him.

You continued to struggle against him. “Let me go!”

“Nope!” He pressed kisses all over your face between giggles. Laughing at your half-hearted slaps at his triceps and forearms. “Can’t let you go when I’m so happy to have my partner all to myself again. Fuck that Gojo guy.”

You stopped struggling, exhausted from chasing him around and making a lockpick to get into the bedroom. “You’re so mean,” you whined. “Remember you used to like him too. You said he reminded you of yourself.”

He pressed a kiss to your head. “Not since he made me second place with my own spouse.” He turned you to look at him, giving you a smile before kissing you sweetly.

You returned the kiss before breaking it. You pressed your temple against his pecs, snuggling up into his arms. “So fucking extra.”

As you can probably tell, I'm still salty about some things lol.

#bts x reader #jin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #yandere jin x reader #yandere yoongi x reader #yandere hoseok x reader #yandere namjoon x reader #yandere jimin x reader #yandere taehyung x reader #yandere jungkook x reader #bts scenarios #bts drabbles #series: love amour aur pyaar #ev's writing

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hangup119 · 1 day

Text

FEELS LIKE A THRILLER! ᯓᡣ𐭩

12. #NOTACANNIBAL written chapter | 2.8k words

“WHAT, YOU DON’T feed your plants?”

Seunghan tilts his head. “... Why should I?”

“Then what the hell kind of owner are you, dude?” you accuse, adjusting the strap of your bag as the two of you head towards the car parking lot. “Who doesn’t feed their plants?”

Seunghan pauses, eyebrows furrowing, before a smile breaks out on his face and then he’s throwing his head back to laugh. He opens the door of the passenger seat for you, saying, “You mean, like, feeding them fertilizer? Wait, how often do you feed them anyway?”

“Everyday.”

Seunghan looks concerned. “Um, I don’t think that’s right…”

You shrug, hopping into the car. “My plant seems to love it, though. It has never looked this alive! That obviously means I’m doing something right, right?”

He blinks when the door finally shuts, wondering how that even works. What kind of plant do you even have in the first place to require fertilizer every single day? He thought it’d be just some room plant, something low-maintenance, but maybe you’re actually a secret plant-connoisseur since you’ve been keeping it alive all this time? Hell, for all he knows, you’re probably developing your own venus flytrap that could digest a whole-ass elephant or something… a part of some secret society with mad scientists obsessed with plants and Seunghan’s just none the wiser…

He promptly starts the vehicle, dismissing such thoughts. He really needs to stop watching those crazy Sci-Fi movies with Sohee every Wednesday.

When the car finally gets out of school property, Seunghan takes one quick glance at you. “So,” he starts, hands admittedly a bit clammy as he steers the wheel and stops at a red light. “Anywhere you’d like to go? I was thinking maybe we should get some food, or something. We should have really planned this out, huh?”

A notification ping suddenly rings out after he finishes; an awfully familiar sound at that.

“Do not open your goddamn phone to play Pokemon Go right now, Seunghan,” you warn, and he immediately deflates at how easily you’ve read him. Then, you smile sweetly, “But, yeah, we can go get something to eat first!”

He laughs anyway, swerving towards downtown. “Alright. Also, I wasn’t even going to open Pokemon Go. Just saying.”

“Yeah, okay, and I’m definitely not going to jump out into oncoming traffic right now.”

“Please don’t.”

After spending some time eating at a nearby cafe Eunseok has been asking to go together with the guys, the two of you manage to get through a whole hour without glancing at each of your phones, too focused on the other to truly care whether or not there are pokemons in the area. During that whole hour of you casually attempting to flirt with Seunghan in your own little way, you find that perhaps he’s not as obsessed with the mobile game as much as you believed him to be—which is good, even though you do find it a little bit cute, but at least he’s not addicted or something.

Seunghan pulls out his phone after you’ve stepped out of the establishment. “Holy shit? There’s a Piplup just a block away!”

“Seriously?” you squawk.

“Yeah!” he excitedly responds, only to end up getting smacked on the arm. “Oh, not what you meant. Okay.”

You give him a fixed stare. He returns it.

“Can we please catch it?” Seunghan pleads, forming his hands into a prayer.

You falter, attempting to look at anywhere but his face. Hot nerds are a curse, you think miserably.

“Please, Y/N? It’s Piplup!” he continues, finally taking your hands in his. You flush, believing that he can just go ahead and go catch the damn pokemon himself but instead chooses to spend more time begging you to go with him in order to catch it together. Right. Because you’re on a date. And Seunghan isn't an asshole. Right. Guy who had a girlfriend for four years over here. Someone already cooked before you.

“Okay, fine,” you finally surrender, mentally cursing yourself for going down such a rabbit hole. Who cares about his ex-girlfriend? She was the past, and you’re the present (hopefully)! “But just Piplup!”

Seunghan laughs, crossing the road with you. “I promise I won’t make this a Pokemon Go date.”

He’s still holding your hand. Like a real couple. You have to mention it.

“You better not,” you say instead, squeezing his hand in return.

After acquiring the stupid Piplup loitering by a fire hydrant next to a pissing dog, Seunghan leads you back to his car to spend a couple more minutes marveling at the 25th Piplup on his screen, before starting the ignition to make your way towards the arcade. There he finally pockets his phone and drags you towards the nearest racing game, where you both duke it out in a Fast & Furious racing game, with you ultimately ending up as the winner after two rounds. Of course, you made sure to rub it in Seunghan’s face for a good three minutes, before he’s dragging you towards the claw machines like every arcade date out there.

Amidst the presence of screaming children and tired parents chasing after them, Seunghan holds your hand as if it was second nature, the sight of his back a constant reminder that he’s not willing to lose you among the crowd and the dirty, soda and gum-flavored floor.

You wonder if this is what it would have felt like had you been his girlfriend in high school. Sitting next to each other in class while trying to ignore your friends’ teasing remarks, partnering up for school projects, doing community service together, or buying snacks right after school and heading to the arcade. Then he’d walk you home, or depending when he got his license maybe drive you, and you’d ask him to text you back when he gets back home. The little things that make up being highschool sweethearts, or whatever the hell he experienced with his ex-girlfriend before they broke up.

Fine, you’re jealous. You’ve always been jealous. But who doesn’t? You’ve always liked Seunghan—everyone knows that—and you’re aware that the missed opportunities you could’ve had with him over the last four years are a result of your own cowardice and lack of assertion, but what gives? After four years, you can finally have him? Just like that?

They say that a man who yearns is a man who earns, but now that he’s right next to you, on a literal date with you—why can’t you take it?

Because you cling too much to the past. Do you still like him as much as you did before?

You’ve always believed that liking someone for so long is a stupid thing, especially someone who wasn’t even available in the first place. Why cling to someone who can’t look at you the way you want them to? And yet you held out for hope anyway, clinging to the possibility that maybe someday Seunghan can look at you like how he did his ex all those years. That perhaps you had a chance with the boy who was one day partnered up with you and your friends for that one project in AP World History, and unknowingly becoming the object of your affections for the next three years and still into college.

“Just focus on my awesome skills,” Seunghan exclaims, rolling up the sleeves of his flannel as he steps closer to the machine. “I’m gonna get you that Pikachu.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course you choose the machine with the pokemons.”

“This is who I am,” he simply responds after inserting the token, moving around the joystick to situate the claw exactly to where he wanted it to go. “And what I am is a Pokemon fan.”

“You do know that these things are a scam, right?” you ask, stepping right next to him.

Seunghan curses when the plushie falls out of the claw’s grasp. “It works out, sometimes. You just gotta have hope, you know?”

You spare him a thoughtful look. Funny how he says that.

He goes for three more rounds to no avail, the Pikachu plushie never budging from its place next to the Charmander. Seunghan feels as if they’re mocking him from within the glass, and he feels embarrassed, but he promised (in his head, at least) to get you that Pikachu no matter what. And he won’t go home until he does.

What he doesn’t expect is for you to push him out of the way. “Move, you’re just wasting money,” you say, inserting a token into the slot as he tries to regain his senses. “I will get you that Pikachu.”

Seunghan stammers, moving closer to you as you maneuver the claw to align with the lone Pikachu in the corner, before confidently pressing on the button. “There’s no way that’s gonna work,” he says, eyeing the descending claw. “It’s too far.”

“Just watch,” you simper.

Much to Seunghan’s surprise, the Pikachu plushie makes it all the way to the exit without a hitch. “What?” he exclaims in shock, watching as you crouch down to take the plushie from the machine, dust it off, and proceed to hand it to him with twinkling eyes.

“Ta-da!” you exclaim, pushing it towards him.

Seunghan snaps out of his reverie, handing it back to you. “Why are you giving it to me? I’m supposed to be giving it to you.”

The side-eye you give him is almost scathing. “What, like the girl can’t give the guy a gift?”

Seunghan flushes. “That’s not what I meant!”

But you’re already laughing, inserting another token into the slot while he’s just helplessly holding onto the Pikachu plushie you won’t take. "Sure, you fake-progressive."

"I am very progressive."

He observes as you focus in on the Squirtle next to an Eevee, before changing your mind and going for the upside-down Bulbasaur. Within seconds, you manage to get it again.

“What’s your secret?” he wonders, taking the plush when you hand it to him as you’re already inserting another token to get the Eevee. “Why are you so good at this? Who’s controlling you? Are you even real?”

You don’t catch the Eevee this time. You’ve also run out of tokens.

“Nevermind,” Seunghan says with a smile too wide for your liking.

You remember back in tenth grade when you were complaining to Sunoo about the upcoming project for history because you simply didn’t want to do it when you had a Chemistry test to study for. Miraculously, you ended up getting grouped with some of your friends and another kid, Hong Seunghan. You thought he was cute, sure, but nothing else after that. He was just some kid who had a huge friend group consisting of six other guys, which somehow included your childhood friend Anton, and the only times you’ve thought about him was when he and his friends walked too slowly in the hallways for your liking.

But then a day before the submission day of the project, you had forgotten to fulfill your part after getting too caught up with your other classes. Knowing Sunoo would never forgive you for tanking his grade, you ended up panicking throughout lunch trying to research and paste together a comprehensible summary of your research, hoping that if the group wasn’t getting an A then you would at least get a B. After getting your sources printed out in the library, the only thing left to do was find whoever had the physical presentation, which had been Jaehyun, but then he told you he left it to someone else’s care. Just great, really. You’ll only have a few minutes in class to assemble it, but surely you’d manage, right?

Wrong. Your frustrations finally caught up to you, and you felt like a ticking time bomb with your unpasted sources and incomplete project. Sunoo was gonna hate you for not even being able to finish something so simple, and you’d be letting down your whole group. Nothing was going right, and you were gonna fail.

But just as you were about to burst into tears from the stress and resorting to fess up to Sunoo, Seunghan came jogging to you five minutes before lunch ended with the physical presentation in hand. He started apologizing for hogging it, but quickly paused once he noticed tears streaming down your cheeks at the relief of seeing that all was not lost. As you frantically wiped away your tears, he had awkwardly taken the printed sources from your hands and began pasting them into the decorated cardboard, aligning them with wherever they needed to be all the while attempting to comfort you.

Thinking back on it now, it was a very embarrassing situation. None of that would have happened if you had simply stopped procrastinating and actually did your work, but you hated the prompt your group was given, which lowered your motivation as well. Stupid, but you were just a stupid fifteen-year-old, too.

Yet you would never forget that very understanding group mate of yours. Seunghan didn’t have to comfort you while he did all the work of gluing and cropping the pages for you, but he did it anyway because he noticed your shaking hands. He could have told you off, said a sarcastic remark about your mishap, but he never did. He did the work and walked with you to class, even offering to buy you a drink from the vending machine to calm you down all with a smile on his face. It doesn’t take a genius to know that what he did was very kind and very attractive, so naturally you ended up forming a crush on him.

What you didn’t know was that it would take almost four years for you to make a proper move, albeit indirectly. But it’s the little things that matter.

“I guess this is it,” Seunghan says after pocketing his keys, walking with you towards your dorm building’s entrance. “I had fun today, Y/N. But I guess I should thank Anton for this, huh? I mean, he was the one who made it possible,” he clasps his hands into a prayer and looks up at the night sky, “whoever made Anton drunk that night, thank you.”

If only Seunghan didn’t smile at you that day, then you wouldn’t be this hopeless in front of him.

You snort. “We’re not even of age to drink.”

“You really think there wouldn’t be any alcohol at Gigi’s party?”

“Fair point,” you shrug, the both of you pausing by the entrance. You turn to him, a gentle smile on your face. “Thanks for the drive, Seunghan. Please take care of Pikachu and Bulbasaur, but since you’re a major Pokemon nerd I’m sure that isn’t an issue for you.”

Seunghan chuckles, rubbing his nape. “You know me so well.”

“I wish I knew more,” you joked. “All those years in high school and we’ve only had full conversations three times.”

He falters. “Ah, yeah… What a waste, huh?”

“Goodnight, Seunghan,” you say, quickly turning around to erase the image of him looking so awkwardly in front of you. Why’d you have to mention that on the first date? God, you must be some grade-A idiot or something because—

“Y/N, wait.”

You pause, trying to ignore the way Seunghan tried to grab your wrist K-Drama style only to end up missing it completely. He fumbles at first at his mistake, attempting to hide the heat quickly rising on his cheeks. “Even if Anton didn’t set us up,” he starts, slowly, trying to find your gaze, “I’d have still wanted to go on this date with you. You’re really fun to talk to, and to hang out with… and you’re also really good at claw machines.”

You smack his arm, and he cracks up a smile again. “Idiot, that’s all you have to say?”

“It’s true, though! Those things are a scam!” he reasons, before clearing his throat. “But seriously, do you wanna go on another date next time? I really had fun with you. I promise I won’t try catching pokemons at the randomest times ever again, and I’ll try to get you that Eevee plushie next time. And you said that I’m a good driver, so maybe we can catch a drive-in movie or something… what do you think?”

Hopefully you don’t notice how fast Seunghan’s heart is beating right now, but that’s probably only because yours is beating just as fast.

You shove him away gently, and he sends you a smile as he waits for your response. “Well?” he goads, but he immediately fails to hide the surprise in his face when you hold up your phone screen in front of him.

“We can drive around and catch some pokemons next time,” you say, before turning around and walking away. “Bye!”

And Seunghan watches just until you’ve entered the building, before tripping on the way to his car.

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SUMMARY. pining after hong seunghan has always felt like an unachievable reality; however, just a few months into your first year of college, it seems that the gods have finally listened to your prayers when news breaks out that your long-time crush is single once again.

AUTHOR'S NOTES. idiots to lovers core

TAGLIST. @shoberi @miyawwn @starwonb1n @hwadejectedyoung @revehosh @alwayswook @rksbae @emohoon @nujeskz @ilovejungwonandhaechan @meowbini @nakam00t @siuewnb @cake1box @dearmarklee @kyusqult @snowyseungs @ffixtionista a @odxrilove e @hisrkive @saeist @lilysflower1 @seunghancore @eternallyhyucks @syzavxy @calumsfringe @yipyipmorals @user7520 @tojis-luver

#riize #riize anton #riize wonbin #riize smau #riize imagines #riize social media au #riize x reader #riize seunghan #seunghan x reader #seunghan #hong seunghan #riize fluff #smau #seunghan riize #seunghan imagines

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