#i want to kiss petrichor on the lips

[luveline]

𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫? | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary steve finds out that falling in love can be really, really easy. you find out what it’s like when somebody wants to take care of you [10.5k]

warnings fem!reader, fluff, mutual pining, getting together, dustins next-door neighbour!reader, sick fic, hurt/comfort, reader is implied to weigh more than nancy, you’re upset one time and steve goes overboard, small s4 spoilers no major plot details, post s3 pre s4, feat. the lunch club, karaoke, rollerblading, sunbathing

𓆩❤︎𓆪

A vast green jungle, so damp the forest floor bathes your ankles in rainwater runoff. The air is thick with humidity and smells green. Earthy, the sweet scent of petrichor tickles your nose, and- 

A shadow distends over the yellow pages of your paperback, dark, eating up the image of the amazon and replacing it with reality – a normal summer's day in Hawkins. 

Steve Harrington stands in front of you, his body blocking the sun and its warm glow. The light throws a halo around his head and turns the ends of his brown hair golden. 

"Watcha reading?" he asks in lieu of ‘hello’.

"Ever read Journey to the Center of the Earth?" you ask him, leaning towards him invitingly. 

You love to mess with him like this, watch his cheeks slowly pink as you bend towards your knees with a demure smile playing on your lips. 

"Yeah, I did. In middle school," he says, trying his best to play it cool, hands pushing deep into the pockets of his pants. 

"Well, it's nothing like that." 

The grin he gets when he realises you're messing with him is adorable. He chuckles warmly and pulls a hand through his hair, looking down at the ground and then up at you again with a bashful pinch to his thick eyebrows.

"You're looking for Dustin?" you ask. You haven't seen your young neighbour since this morning. "He ran off earlier with his huge radio thing." 

Steve rolls his eyes. "Typical. I paid him fifteen dollars," he says, his frustration clear, "fifteen dollars, Y/N, to fix my Walkman like three weeks ago. Every time I come by he's out. Little shit probably hasn't even looked at it." 

You like Steve. He's a great looking guy who's more than nice when he sees you even though you're always pushing his buttons, and his poorly hidden fondness for Dustin is something you find heart-squeezingly attractive. You don't think twice about your next move. 

You stand up from your lounger and have to shield your eyes from the sun, tucking your book under your naked arm. "If you want… I have a cassette player I'm not using. I got a Walkman for my birthday." You don't give him an opportunity to say no as you start for the front door. 

"Are you sure?" Steve asks. You hold the door open for him, standing at the threshold with a grin. 

"Positive. It's collecting dust, at this point." 

"I mean, sure, if that's cool. Just until Dustin gets his act together," he says, pushing past you. His hand brushes your hip. 

"That's cool," you confirm, walking behind him through your open kitchen and living room. "It's on the left." 

Steve pushes into your bedroom. The window's open, breezing around the smell of fresh linens and the hydrangeas in the planter on your sill, shifting the gauzy white curtains. 

The suncatcher hanging from the window sprays rainbow kisses over your walls and posters, your laundry basket full of summer dresses and discarded night shirts. The carpet is freshly vacuumed and plush underfoot as you beeline for your desk. Steve hovers by the door before leaning his weight against your bookshelf, eyes taking it in curiously. 

"Cyndi Lauper," Steve says, eyes on a big poster of said singer with her iconic orange hair and hat. You raise your eyebrows at him, pleased, and he shrugs. "She's famous." 

"You like her?" 

"Nah," he says. "But I'll listen to anything. Except Depeche Mode; sharing a player with Robin all summer has sailed that boat." 

"Yeah?" you ask, kneeling down in front of your desk to dig through the cabinet underneath. You frown, up to your elbow in bric a brac and forgotten trinkets. "It's in here somewhere." 

"Yeah. I mean, maybe not anything. I don't think I have the palate for some of those rock and roll bands. Dustin made me listen to Black Scabbard in the car last week and…"

"Black Sabbath," you correct lightly, pulling out of your cupboard with a relieved huff. 

"Right," he says. 

You look over your shoulder to find him perusing your bookshelf, his hand running lightly over the shiny glass paper weight you use as a book end. He teases the spine of a hardback book curiously but must feel your gaze, turning to you with a sheepish smile. 

"Do you like to read?" you ask. 

Steve wrings his hands held at his hip. "Sure, I don't mind it. Bigger fan of movies." 

"Right, Family Video must get pretty distracting," you say, walking towards him on light footing to offer the dinged-up cassette player. "She's well loved but she works, I swear." 

He takes it from you, fingers brushing the backs of yours. "Thank you." 

You shift from one foot to the other — because oh my god there's a boy in my room — before smiling with teeth. You stop. "You're welcome. Want a drink?" 

"Uh…" 

"I've got pink lemonade." 

"Oh, then definitely." 

You lead him into the kitchen and install him at the kitchen table with two empty glasses. The carafe of lemonade is beautifully cold from the refrigerator with slices of lemon and strawberry bouncing around the top as you pour it. The condensation wets your fingers. 

Steve looks handsome and maybe slightly silly behind your homely oak table, all clean cut and well dressed. You feel bare beside him in your tank top and flowy midi skirt, too much skin. 

"Are you hungry? I make a mean BLT," you say, bringing your feet up onto the chair, knees digging into the table. 

"I'm good, thanks," he says. 

"Are you having a good time of it at FV? They denied my application, but that's 'cos Keith has a vendetta against me for wiping out his score on the Palace's Tempest." 

"You're a Tempest girl?" 

"Everybody plays Tempest," you say. 

Steve gives you a look. "Nerds play Tempest." 

"Fine, every nerd plays Tempest," you allow, rolling your eyes. "Lemme guess, you're a Centipede guy. No, worse! You play Pac-Man. I can tell."

His silence is enough to make you giggle in triumph, elated to have sussed him out so quickly.  

"How did you know that?" he asks finally. 

"You called Black Sabbath 'Black Scabbard'. You're not a nerd." 

"I could be." 

"But you're not." 

You share a steady look over the table. His eyes are bright with mirth, a sleek brown like fresh brewed coffee. You love the shape of them, deepest with the round under eye blanketed in straight black lashes. A red polo stretches across his chest. You find your eyes drawn down the length of his arm to his hand where he's drawing circles around the rim of his glass. He takes it into his hand and you watch his wrist bend, his arm flex as he brings the cup to his lips and a drop of condensation drips onto the table mat. 

"I don't look the type?" he asks after a rough swallow. He sounds almost incensed. 

"No, of course you don't. King Steve," you croon. 

He crosses his arms across his chest and leans back, looking you up and down showfully. "Neither do you." 

He's all charming smiles as he raises his chin and shakes his head, lips stretched up in an open-mouthed smile. 

"Tempest," he mutters in bemusement.

You burst into laughter, quick to defend yourself when there's a pounding knock at the door. You're still laughing as you stand, calling to Steve as you walk to the door, "Tempest isn't even that nerdy! It's the Dragon's Lair dorks you need to watch out for. Oh, hi baby. What's wrong?" 

"You haven't seen Steve, have you? His cars outside," Dustin announces, standing under the porch with his wild curls stuffed under a hat, his pulley cart ditched halfway between your yard and his.

"He's in the kitchen. You want some lemonade? You look frazzled," you offer, brushing your hand over his sunburned shoulder lightly as he scoots right past you.

"Thanks, Y/N." Dustin strides into the kitchen with purpose, glaring at Steve pretty heavily as he takes your seat at the table. "Why are you here?" 

"Fucking charming. I came to see you, Henderson, but you're never home. Too busy finding secluded knolls to radio your girlfriend and play karaoke." 

"Dick," Dustin says, though he defrosts as you fill a glass for him. 

"What do you want?" Steve asks him. 

"Why do you assume I want something?" 

"Don’t be coy, you're not Madonna. It's tacky." 

"Dick," Dustin says again, glaring. 

"Dustin, do you want something to eat? You shouldn't go out in the sun all day by yourself, you know? What if you get heat stroke?" you ask. 

Steve gives you a strange look like he's puzzled with you. You smile back at him, hand coming down on the back of Dustin's chair easily. 

"Steve, I need a ride to Mike's," Dustin says, completely ignoring you.

Steve kicks him under the table. "Manners." 

"Can I please have a ride-" 

"To her, dipshit. Jeez, what's wrong with you? She asked if you're hungry." 

Dustin beams at you innocently, soft cheeks rounding. "No thank you Y/N you're a godsend and I appreciate you very much," he says all in a rush, turning back to Steve, the act entirely dropped. "Now can we go?" 

"Christ, fine. I'm gonna get you one of those rewards cards for being a shithead. This incident would be a double stamp, by the way." 

"Uh-huh," Dustin says. 

The younger teen chugs his glass of lemonade and spins off, calling a thank you over his shoulder. Steve gets up to follow him, your old cassette player held carefully in his hands. 

"I'm sorry about him." 

"Don't be. I've known him his entire life. He's in a phase," you inform him with a small grin, shrugging as if to say, what you gonna do? 

"Long phase. Thank you. For the player and the lemonade." 

"You're welcome," you say warmly, walking him to the door. 

Dustin's already in the passenger seat, having taken his pulley cart back inside. He makes a hurry up motion from behind his window and Steve mutters expletives to himself, giving you one last smile before he trudges off. 

The two boys wave at you through the windshield. You wave back.

When Steve's car has winked from view you take your lemonade and paperback outside again to lie under what's left of the sun. You try your best to fall back into the jungle and conjure its sights and sounds, only you keep finding your thoughts wrapped up around a certain boy's laugh and the face he makes as he does, that startled grin, a fist half raised to his mouth. 

-

"Y/N!" A familiar teen voice accompanied by battering knocking at your front door. 

You pull it open, still in your pajamas, hair a mess. His knocking had woken you up. You'd had about ten seconds to check you hadn't drooled too violently in your sleep before he was calling your name, and so you hadn't bothered getting dressed. 

You wish you had. Dustin stood at the door with Steve Harrington behind him, a happy smile on both their faces. 

You try not to flinch as you throw an arm across your chest subconsciously. "Hi?" you ask. "Is everything okay?" 

Dustin's dressed for the beautiful weather in shorts and a shirt with sleeves so short it may as well be a tank top, a hat perched familiarly over his cute curls. Steve is dressed in a tormenting pair of jeans paired with a denim jacket. Double denim. He looks hot, physically and figuratively. 

"Do you wanna come skating?" Dustin asks urgently. 

You blink at him, pulling the edges of your strappy vest down to cover your navel, plaid bottoms low on your hips – you're a mess.  

"Skating? I don't have one." 

"A skateboard?" Dustin asks, shrugging. "Bring your rollerblades." 

You err at the door, leaning your weight against it as you think. "When?" 

"Now!" he says.

"I don't want to hold you up," you say, aimed more towards Steve than Dustin. 

Steve smiles, hooking cheeks pink with the heat, and is about to talk when Dustin says, "He made me come ask you, he's fine to wait." 

You bite back a smirk at Steve's deer-in-the-headlights expression and nod happily. "Alright. Twenty minutes and I'll be ready. If that's okay?" 

"Totally," Steve says. 

You close the door most of the way and catch a look over his shoulder, finding his pretty friend Robin in one seat and a gaggle of Dustin's friends in the back.

You hear a sharp thwarping sound as you spin away followed by a "What the fuck, dude?" from Dustin and hope that he hasn't tripped over one of your flower pots. You get ready and spend at least ten minutes worrying after your appearance in the mirror before grabbing the skates and jetting into the kitchen. You gather as many impromptu snacks you can find and shove them into a grocery bag, struggling to lock the door behind you in want of a free hand. 

Steve jumps out of the driver's side to open the side door for you. You smile gratefully and dump the snacks and your skates in the footwell before climbing in, an empty seat between you and Dustin’s redheaded friend.

You're saved from the awkwardness of seeing people you've met but don't quite know by their ongoing debate, something about which Bruce Springsteen song is best. 

“It’s obviously Dancing in the Dark. I don’t really know why we’re still talking about this,” Robin says from the passenger seat.

“You’re just saying that because it’s his most popular,” the girl next to you says.

“Things are popular for a reason.” Robin shrugs. 

“Yeah, Max. Plus, popular or not, it’s his best.”

Max scrunches up her entire face. “Better than I’m on Fire?”

There’s a long pause where each child deliberates. Dustin and Mike dissolve into fierce looks. 

“Nobodies talking about Born in the USA,” Steve says into the quiet, eyes on the road but head tilted back.

“Shut up, Steve,” Mike says, looking as exhausted as he usually does when you’ve seen him coming in and out of Dustin’s. Though it's been a while, he hasn't changed. Perpetually done with people's shit. 

“Disrespectful,” Steve murmurs. His eyes flash to the rear view, catching you red-handed as you stare at him. “What do you think?” 

“About what?”

“About Springsteen."

You consider him, his smile, his gaggle of cruel children. “I like Born in the USA,” you say nonchalantly.

“That’s two points,” Steve says triumphantly.

The skatepark is pretty busy because of the good weather. You and Steve end up unpacking your snacks onto a blanket Robin lays out whilst the boys go look for their friend Lucas, who's supposedly already here. 

Max doesn't seem pleased with this revelation, sitting down heavily by Steve's picnic basket. Steve offers her a PB&J from the basket and a cold caprisun and she perks up, but not a lot. You want to spend time with Steve, you're not disillusioned into thinking you're anything but a flower under his attention, blooming and wanting, but Max's sad eyes get the better of you. 

Too late for introductions, you dive straight in. “What’s in the Walkman?” you ask, nodding at the player sticking out of her jacket pocket, the foam padded headphones around her neck. 

“Wild Things Run Fast, Joni Mitchell.” It sounds like a question. 

You’ve struck gold immediately. “I love Joni Mitchell! Have you heard her new stuff?”

Max seems alarmed and happy at once, red messy braids swaying as she lifts her chin. “I mean, only what they’ve played on the radio.”

“Her album came out this October, Dog Eat Dog? I have the cassette if you wanna borrow it. It’s amazing.”

“Really?” she asks. She’s peeling the crusts off of her sandwich, one side at a time, dropping them into the small pile of discarded Saran Wrap. 

“For sure. You’ve heard Shiny Toys?” Max nods. “It’s all as good as that one. Seriously.”

“Awesome,” she says, taking a huge bite of her sandwhich. 

You realise you might’ve come on a little strong and try to backtrack into cool territory again, hand brushing Steve’s ankles as you lean away from the poor girl, smiling sheepishly. 

“My mom loves Joni Mitchell,” Robin says.

“Robin," Steve chides lightly.

“What?” 

You and Steve share a look that’s so familiar it gives you pins and needles in your hands, something small between the two of you clicking into place. Or at least that’s how you feel.

Max has almost finished her sandwich by the time Mike returns. “Are you ready?” he asks her.

She clambers onto her feet and grabs her skateboard from behind Steve. The two walk away, a distance from Dustin and Lucas, who both seem to have acquired a pair of skates each. Dustin in knee pads and a helmet, Lucas without. 

“Why would you say Max listens to mom music?” Steve asks incredulously once they’re out of hearing distance. 

Robin shakes her head, similarly incensed. “I didn’t say that.”

“There were so many other things you could’ve said, Robs.” He sounds less mad and more pitying. 

"I didn't say that! I said my mom listens to her. She does!" 

"Don't take offense. Robin got dropped as a baby," Steve says to you offhandedly. 

You know the best course of action here and you take it – in what world would you make an enemy of a boy you might like's best friend who is a girl? Not this one. Plus, Robin seems super nice. 

"I'm not offended. My mom loves Joni too," you say cheerily, smiling at Robin, unabashed.

You're slightly disappointed when she looks away towards her lap, until she says, "Projections a bad look on you, Harrington. He has, like, a flat head," she tells you.

Steve starts yammering loudly. "Shut up! My head's perfect, you're being ridiculous. Perfectly round and ordinary, thank you." 

"Yeah, I'd definitely say your head's perfectly round," you agree through giggles, reaching for your skates.

You have a funny feeling that a silent conversation is happening as you slide off your shoes and into the skates, lacing up tight, but when you look up Robin's sifting through the accumulated snack pile and Steve's looking the opposite way, towards the kids. 

You clear your throat. "Are you guys gonna skate too?"

"Steve is." 

"I didn't bring-" 

"He's borrowing mine. It's too hot, I can't skate. And I don't have the coordination, anyway."

Steve looks at Robin, at you, Robin again. "I'm not good," he says. You take it for yes. 

Steve gets on his skates and straps out of his denim jacket, exposing the distracting lengths of his arms. He's better than he gives himself credit for, steady on his feet. He knows how to stop and start, and you smile to yourself when the two of you skate off towards Dustin and Lucas, following their journey around the skate park, careful to stay clear of the bowls and rails. 

"You're good! You said you weren't good!" you say to him. 

"I'm not good." 

"You're doing great!" 

He smiles gratefully, the expression at home over his warm features. He's not really a very smiley guy, you've realised, his lips often pulled up into a grimace or a cruel approximation of a smile, sarcastic. It suits him. You go to say as much, eyes eating up every little detail of him. 

"Hey Steve? You should-" and your foot pops over a rock. 

You shriek and throw your arm out towards him. Steve catches you with impressive strength and speed as your leg buckles. You've quickly righted yourself and he brings you to a slow but not quite stop. Stopping on skates is easier said than done, especially old skates with the front guards already worn down. 

"Are you okay?" he asks. 

You've taken his hand without thinking, the two of you widening apart and then coming together like the eclipse of a blinking eye. 

You pull your hand away apologetically, the warmth of his palm lingering. 

"I'm sorry!" you say. 

"Don’t be. Last thing I wanna do is have you crack your head open on my watch. I’m glad you didn’t wipe out." 

"Thanks to you." 

You slow and stop. Steve does the same, the two of you clumsy for different reasons. He watches as you calm your racing heart. 

"Shit, I really thought I was gonna fall. You're a lifesaver." You stare straight into his eyes, their sunlight honey brown, smiling with complete genuineness. He's more than pretty. "Thank you." 

Steve swallows and his smile is warmer, somehow, impossibly warmer. Maybe it's the beautiful weather, maybe it's the beautiful boy. You suddenly feel very, very hot. 

"I think I might need to sit down." 

"Oh, shit," he says, reaching for your arm. You're about to correct his touching – you're not dizzy, just a little nauseous. Only, his hand. His fingers clasped around your elbow, his face fiercely protective. 

You let him guide you back to the picnic blanket. One hand around your elbow, the other behind your sun-warmed back, and somehow his hand is the hottest spot. 

"Are you okay?" Robin asks, shielding her eyes from the sun. The book in her lap slips shut as she straightens. 

"She's okay," Steve says. “Too hot. Budge up." 

Robin moves over on the blanket and throws the basket open. Steve reaches in for a capri sun and passes it to you. It's lukewarm, though the day is so hot it's a relief to drink it. 

"Steve's really good," you tell her after a noisy suck, the orange plastic straw stabbing your lip. You frown down at it.

"I saw you guys whizzing around. Public menaces, both of you," Robin says, though she smiles as she does. You know she's joking. You don't want to think it in case it's not true, but you feel like maybe she wants to be friends. 

"We prefer speed demons," Steve says easily, still kneeling at your side. 

"They should lock you up." 

You snort and almost squirt juice from your nose, spluttering and coughing as you bend at the waist. Steve pats your back less than gently and then more so as you move your hand towards him. 

"I'm okay," you cough, embarrassed at how you must look hacking your lungs out. 

Steve's hand, again on your back, rubs a stern line. "Chill out, Y/N. You can't die before dinner." 

"We're getting McDonald's," Robin supplies. 

"Don't tell the kids," he says, smirking. 

He's still rubbing your back. You suspect you might agree to anything while he's this close. 

"You sound like such a dad when you say shit like that." 

Steve scowls at Robin's words and pulls his hands away, crossing them over his chest. "Don't say that. Babysitter is more than enough, don't you think? Y/N?" 

"An older brother?" you suggest to Robin's extreme delight. 

She laughs. Steve scrubs at his face with both hands until his eyes are red. 

-

Robin's sick and Steve's going crazy by himself, manning the desk at FV with almost no energy and even less enthusiasm. A week since he'd held your hand and he can't seem to stop thinking about it. 

He catches himself staring at his own empty palm and clenches his fist, bringing his eyes back to the door in case someone walks in and he has to pull off the headphones of your borrowed cassette player. 

Steve had discovered a forgotten cassette inside, listening to it out of curiosity the night you'd given him the player and then every night since then. He felt guilty about keeping it without saying anything but he was only borrowing it, he reasoned. He'd give it back when Dustin fixed his skipping Walkman.  

The tape was Van Halen II. And Steve's not stupid, he knows who Van Halen are, but he's never sat and listened through any of their full albums. Now he can't stop, constantly rewinding back to the same song, over and over. 

He does so now, fingers clumsy and too big over small buttons until the first line kicks in, powerful and high energy like a burst of fresh air. 

Have you seen her?

So fine and pretty.

He grins as it plays, thinking of you instantly. Your smile and your legs, the wind whipping at your skirt and exposing stretches of skin he can't stop remembering. You on your rollerblades, the second time after an emergency PB&J, skating in front of him without looking behind you. 

"Don't let me crash into someone, okay?" you'd asked, swaying from one side to the other as you shifted your weight. 

"It'll be too late to stop you if I see someone! Turn around!" he'd demanded, though his fondness had peeked through. 

You'd thrown your hands out. "You'll have to steer me!" 

And so he'd grabbed your hands and you'd laughed like a fool as you skated together, squealing through close calls and bumpy ground. 

He thinks of your hands in his, their weight and size, the magnetic pulse he'd felt between them, how happy you'd seemed to be with him. 

He was harbouring a crush on you. Too old to deny what it feels like to want a pretty girl, Steve wonders if this is entirely a good idea – letting himself like you when the possibility of rejection feels high. You are, as Dustin had promised him, out of Steve's league. "Don't try your luck, dude." 

Steve thought for a second that his thinking about you had summoned your image, your easy walk and the elegant way about your hands and how you held them, in a blue dress with matching strappy mary-jane's, white socks with the ruffle tops. He blinks. No way he could think up anything as pretty. 

You push open the door and grin from across the room, a large tupperware of some type in your hands. His eyes move up from your fingers where they clutch plastic, your wrist, your arms. The puff sleeves of your dress are short and cuffed, similar to the matching ruched neckline that shows enough to make him swallow. A necklace lays in the valley of your chest, a silver chain with a blue flower at the end, small but thick. Five round petals, a cutout missing that shows a circle of your chest beneath. 

"Steve," you say, like you'd been in mid conversation. "Please tell me you have a sweet tooth."

He pulls the headphones from his head and leaves them around his neck, fixing his hair as casually as he can when he says, "Sure, I like candy." 

You set your container down on the counter and crack it open, the rich, buttery smells of its contents quickly filling the room.

"I made penuche for Dustin's mom's birthday, but I made so-" you drag the word out, lips a gloss-sticky 'o', "much of it. I can't eat it all. And she said I wasn't allowed to give it to Dustin 'cos he keeps using the f-word." 

His laugh is startled but genuine. "Not the f-word." 

The fudge is a light brown, almost pink in the neon tinted lighting. It smells divine, and he's saved from an internal debate about what's cool when you push the tub towards him. "Do you like fudge?" you ask him.

He takes one and you take one, and he tries not to look at you as you eat, or when you scratch gloss and a crumb from the corner of your mouth. 

"You’re a modern Martha Stewart," Steve says happily.

"Only on special occasions. Where's Robin?" you ask, elbows braced on the counter and leaning in. 

"Sick. Apparently." 

"Apparently," you repeat, grinning. "What, she didn't look sick?" 

"She talked to me on the phone. She sounded sick," he concedes. "Good things it's Thursday." 

You look around the completely empty store. "This is what it usually looks like on a Thursday?" 

"It's Hawkins. Half the people here get their VHS from the library, the others drive out to Blockbuster. We get about as much foot traffic as an ice cream stand in September." 

"It's 'cos you take too long to get the new ones,'' you say. "No offense." 

"The tone of someone personally victimised by a Family Video wait list." 

"You got me. I've been trying to get the Breakfast Club for two months!" you complain, scratching your chest lazily. 

Steve crosses his arms over his chest until his hands are hidden, rolling his eyes. "Oh, so this is bribery penuche." 

You blink at him and then your lips part in horror, pretty eyes widening. "No!" 

"It totally is. You're trying to butter me up," he says, suave tone disrupted by the need to giggle at his own pun. "Y/N, how could you? Here I thought we were starting to be friends and you're using me for my video store?" 

His mock horror puts you eat ease when you realise he's joking. "I really wanna see that movie," you say dejectedly. You reach for another piece of fudge and bite it in half, your chewing morose. "It feels like everybody saw it at the movies but me." 

"Of course they did. Why didn't you?" 

You glare at him. "I was busy!" 

"For the month it was in theatres?" 

"Yes!" you defend yourself from his teasing. "I have things to do!" 

"Like what?" 

"Like school!" 

"Everybody has school." 

"You're picking on me after I brought you candy. This is so cruel." You don't sound like you've suffered any cruelty. Steve might say you're really enjoying yourself. 

"Sorry, sweetheart."

You glare at his insincere pet name. "Whatever. Oh, hey, how's she treating you?" you ask, eyes on the cassette player. "Steve, you have my Van Halen tape! Thank god, I thought I lost it."

"Right. Sorry, I meant to give it back," he lies. 

You shrug your shoulders. "Keep it however long you want to. It's good, right? Which one's your favourite?"

He pulls the headphones out and rewinds back before setting the player in front of you. You raise your eyebrows at him but click play, and the audio starts abruptly, loud and mid quality. 

Yes, it's love in the third degree. 

You grin, head bobbing, eyes flitting to his with approval written all over your face. You don't seem to hesitate before you sing along under your breath, high pitched but quiet.

"Ooh, baby baby. Won't-cha turn your head my way?" 

He feels a little enchanted by you, that same magnetism he'd felt between his hands, can't believe how pretty you are and how sweetly you move. You laugh at yourself as you sing the next line, an intense, almost theatrical look upon your face. Like you're swooning.

"Ooh, baby baby. Ah come on! Take a chance, you're old enough to-" You flare your eyes at him and nod, mouth open encouragingly. 

He won't join in, no matter how electric he finds you. You roll your eyes and your shoulders roll in a half-dance as you hum along to the chorus. 

Dance the night away. 

"You're no fun, Steve," you complain, giggling. 

"You're enough for the two of us." 

You peer over the counter, still moving with the music as you ask, "What were you doing? Before I came in?" 

"Looking through the computer at what's late being returned. Riveting, extremely hard work." 

"Do you get, like, secret intel on what new movies are coming in?" 

"Sure we do. Wanna see?" he asks. 

You creep around the counter and stand by his side. He scrolls through the system and translates acronyms for you. "This is the coming in," he says, drawing a line down a list of movie names. "These are what's being moved back to the headquarters."

"Headquarters," you repeat, leaning in to see the screen more clearly. You browse the new titles idly, slipping closer and closer to the computer. 

"You'll burn your retinas." 

"Invaders from Mars, Youngblood, Black Moon Rising," you list thoughtfully. You turn on your heel. "I don't know any of those. You got a chic-flicks section?" 

You're really close. Steve looks at you, this close, this pretty, his hands itching to touch you. He leans in and your arms fall to your sides, the space between you growing ever smaller. 

"We do," he says slowly, eye to eye, almost daring you to look at his mouth instead. He wants you to. He wants to look at yours. 

You're steadfast, not impassive but certainly unreadable as you say, "Show me?" 

Steve reaches for the mouse behind you like he was always intending to, hiding any smugness he feels when you exhale noticeably. You turn back around, his arm brushing over yours as he sorts through the tag system to show you "ROM-COM INCO". 

"These are all the ones we have coming in. You know any of those?" 

"Hannah and Her Sisters. I saw that one." 

"Finally had some free time?" he asks wryly. 

"Shut up, Steve." 

"You know… I can keep the Breakfast Club for you. Next time it comes in." 

The smile you give him is blinding. "Thanks, Steve." 

"Yeah, no problem." He hopes the sudden increase in temperature is mutual. 

-

Your backyard is a field of flowers. Maybe dramatic, but Steve's never seen so many, a heavy green spotted in chartreuse, vermillion, bright oranges and pink-white. You lay on a towel in the grass surrounded by them, the sun lighting you up, your skin glowing and perfect. 

You're in black, spandex type shorts and a bikini top. Steve feels like a perv for looking, so he clears his throat. You don't budge. 

He creeps closer. You're in headphones listening to your Walkman. He can hear the music from where he stands at your backdoor, so it must be loud. He stands over you and hopes his shadow will wake you up. When it still doesn't he gets concerned, kneeling down carefully with his knees digging into your towel. 

"Y/N. Hey," he says. 

Still nothing. 

He pulls your headphones off gently, looking over your face in worry. You must be sleeping. 

"Y/N, you shouldn't sleep out here. You'll get sun stroke," he says. He strokes your arm though he shouldn't. He can't help himself, his fingers pressing into the crook of your elbow.

You blink awake and then slam your eyes closed. Steve adjusts himself to block the sun from your face and you manage to pry your eyes open, confused.

"Hello." 

"Hey," he says. He can't help the fondness that plays over his smile.

"Shit." Your eyes go wide and you cover your chest with your arm. "I'm naked." 

"You're not naked," he says. 

"I'm naked. Stop looking at me." 

Steve turns away obligingly. 

"Stop laughing at me, Harrington." 

"Is there anything I'm allowed to do?" he asks, though he does stop laughing.

"I'm so embarrassed. I was sunbathing and I must've fallen asleep." 

Steve lets his eyes stray to your naked thigh. He stares at your skin, follows a stretch mark upwards and then swiftly peels his gaze away. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be a total perv. I can go wait in my car." 

"You're not a perv. I'm being a priss. Sorry. I know I'm not, like, a model and I wasn't expecting to have this much skin on show. I don't look like Nancy Wheeler."

You sound more nervous than Steve has ever heard you. Worse, you sound dejected, though you've tried for nonchalance. Steve stares at you until you raise your chin, your fingers pinching meanly at your thighs. 

"You're messing with me," he says.

"What?" you ask, incredulous. "I'm not messing with you." 

"You gotta know you're beautiful. That's, like, a stone cold fact. A hard truth. You're beautiful. Who cares if you don't look like Nance?" 

You sigh, though it's not very believable when you're smiling so much. "She's really pretty." 

"So are you." 

"You know what I mean, Steve. She's… small." 

"She's a small woman," he agrees. "That doesn't make her prettier than you." 

"You're sure?" you ask quietly. 

Steve means it a hundred percent when he says, "I'm sure." 

The two of you sit there for a few seconds. He can hear your breathing and he's wondering if you can hear his. 

"What are you doing here?" you ask. 

Your hand is still held across your stomach but you're thankfully looking more relaxed. Steve meant what he said, you're beautiful, he couldn't care less that you're taller or that you weigh more than his ex. You're fucking pretty, and seeing you all laid out and sun kissed has made him kind of crazy. 

"Steve?" you ask. 

"Oh. I brought you The Breakfast Club. Just got it back in this morning," he rushes to say, grabbing the VHS tape from where he'd left it on the ground. The Family Video spine is glaringly ugly compared to you and your flowers. 

"Woah, thank you!" 

"You're welcome. It's under my name though, so don't keep it late. Can't disprespect the FV name. I'm going for employee of the month." 

You giggle. "You are? Are you the top contender?" 

"Nope." 

You laugh some more, the sound delicate and sweet as spun sugar, in Steve's humble opinion. 

"Not that my fellow employees try any harder, but Keith just picks himself every month for the free credits." 

You rub your fingers across the front of the box. "I won't be late. I mean, I'll watch it today, I've been so excited to see it." 

Steve stands up. "Sorry to disturb your idyllic sunbathing." 

"Idyllic," you murmur, smiling. "You're good, Steve. Thank you for the movie." 

"You're welcome. I'll see you later?" he asks, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans, slowly backing away. 

"No," you say. He raises his eyebrows and you look sheepish but not shy when you continue, "Do you wanna stay? Watch the movie with me? I have stovetop popcorn and soda and everything." 

"What about the great weather? You don't wanna waste it." 

You force your hands between your thighs and hunch forward slightly. "I do wanna waste it. I mean, I've had enough for today, don't you think? I'm a half hour from heat stroke." 

"You're looking pretty warm," he says. Anything to take you up on your offer without sounding too interested. 

-

You're trying not to give Steve the side eye. Trying, but he's very attractive and very close, and he keeps making funny jokes. It's annoying how hot he is. 

Steve has slouched back and his jeans have slowly edged down, exposing the flesh of his hip. Not that you've noticed, or anything. 

You cram a big handful of popcorn into your mouth and flick your eyes back to the screen. You'd really wanted to see this movie but Steve keeps capturing your attention, again and again, over and over. You can't believe you'd asked him to stay and he had, can't believe he brought the VHS for you in the first place. 

That's a dedicated employee right there. 

You shuffle closer to him under the guise of sharing your popcorn. Your shoulders touch. 

"Thanks," he says. His thigh hits your thigh as he takes a handful. 

"Steve," you say softly. 

"What?" 

"I don't feel well. I think the sun killed me." 

He throws his arm around the back of the couch and twists, careful not to upend the popcorn bowl as he looks over you searchingly. You've seen Steve play caretaker before, but being under his watch is different. He's almost a different person as he checks you over. 

"You feel sick?" he asks. He holds his hand out between you, his knuckles at your eye level. "Can I?" 

You tilt your head back and close your eyes. Steve presses the back of his hand to your forehead and pets down softly, feeling for your temperature. 

"You're still really warm. Let's get you cooled down." 

Steve springs up and knocks the bowl. You blink, slightly disoriented as he disappears into the kitchen, picking up spilled popcorn off of the couch and eating it with slow chews. Now you think of it, your arms hurt, too.

Steve returns and sits on the edge of the sofa, a bag of peas in his hand. "I raided your freezer. Lean your head back." 

"I'm fine," you say, but tilt your head back anyways, gasping when the cold hits you.  

"You might actually get heatstroke. Do you know how dangerous heat stroke is? You need to cool down. Where's the A/C?" 

"It's on." 

Steve feels along your cheek gingerly. "I can't believe you fell asleep outside. What's that about?" He pauses. "Are you sleeping okay?" 

"I'm sleeping fine." 

"Are you sure?" 

His wrist turns and you feel the pad of his fingers rather than the back, the palm of his hand as he cups your face. 

You peek through your lashes at him. His eyebrows are pinched and his bottom lip juts out in a concerned pout. 

"You can tell me." 

The way he says it – well, you imagine you could tell him anything. He sounds warm and worried. This close you can smell his cologne, something heavy with sage, a little bit of lilac hidden under unmistakable bergamot. It's all so comforting and the sun has loosened your tongue. 

"Maybe not so much. It's… it's hot. You know? And…" 

"What?" he murmurs. Your heart skips as his thumb rubs over your cheek. 

You close your eyes like your confession might take form. "I'm kind of lonely, lately," it sounds like a question, "and it's- it keeps me up sometimes. I don't know, it sounds stupid when I say it out loud." 

"It doesn't sound stupid." 

"No?" 

"No, I get it." He pulls away but doesn't move too far, his hand still holding the freezing peas to your forehead, the other brushing against your arm as he drops it in his lap. "These days Dustin doesn't leave me alone. I don't want him to, either. The same with Robs." 

You let your head loll to the side. Steve doesn't look shy or scared to tell you, talking almost matter of fact. "But my parents were never home when I was in high school. They still aren't. I felt it more back then." 

"Yeah. I don't know. I never see anybody. Besides Dustin," you say. "We have him in common." 

"You see me." 

"When I'm annoying you at work." 

"You don't annoy me." He's stern though he abruptly turns into a conspirator whispering secrets. "Robin's fuse gets shorter with me everyday." 

"How come?" you ask, co-conspirator. 

"I can't stop watching the door." 

You lift your head. Steve takes back his bag of peas and feels along your forehead, now cold enough to ache. 

"Here, hold these to your chest. I'd do it for you, but…" 

You take the peas and hide a terrible smile, heart racing between your ears. Your nausea has flipped  completely into butterflies and they're rabid, knocking at your abdomen insistently. 

You're trying to think of a way to make him say nice things again when there's a knock at the door. 

"Dustin," you both say. 

"Jinx, buy me a soda," Steve says. 

You glare at him and he laughs all the way to the door. 

"Why are you always here? Where's Y/N?" 

"She's got heat stroke." 

"I don't!" you call hoarsely. 

"You sound like you do," Dustin says. "Can one of you give me a ride?" 

"She has heat stroke." 

You climb onto the back of the sofa to look down the hallway. Dustin stands at the front door with a huge piece of engineering in his arms that you don't understand, wires and ciricuits and things. 

"Remeber when you used to bike everywhere? What happened to that?" Steve asks, sounding majorly pissed. You can't work out why he's so frustrated but it makes you laugh again. 

The two boys turn to you with twin looks of confusion. 

"I can't bike there, genius. This won't fit in the basket." 

You laugh again, twice as loud. 

"What's wrong with her?" Dustin asks, shaking his head. 

"What don't you understand about heat stroke?

"Potential heat stroke," you interject.  

"She fell asleep in the sun. I don't know how long she was out there her brain might be totally jellified, dude." 

"You should take her to the hospital."

You clamber onto aching limbs and walk until your behind Steve, reaching for his elbow automatically. "I'm fine, babe. What's your doohickey?" 

Dustin smirks and pulls the weight closer to his chest. "Prototype." 

"For what?" 

"Top secret." 

You giggle some more, wobbling with the force of it. Steve sighs and wraps his arm around your back, his hand under your arm to grip you at the ribs. 

Dustin gets wide eyes like a looney tunes character. "What's going on here?" 

"Nothing," Steve hisses. "Look, let me set Y/N up with the works and I'll drive you where you want to go, you brat." 

Dustin drops his suspicion, having got what he wants. "I'll wait in the car. Feel better!" 

"That's three stamps on the shithead card, shithead!" Steve calls after him. The two of you watch his retreating figure and then Steve is manhandling you (not too roughly) down the hallway and back onto the sofa. 

"I'm not dying, Steve." 

Steve puts your popcorn bowl in your lap and the frozen peas back on your chest. He fills your glass either the warming carafe on the coffee table and then bends down to talk to you, entirely too intense. 

"Are you good?" he asks. 

"Perfect. I don't even feel hot anymore." 

He rolls his eyes. "Yeah, okay. Listen, I'm gonna go drop Dustin off, and then I'm gonna call you to make sure you're not dead." 

"You don't have to do that, Steve," you say, moving down into the couch, a cushion falling over as you do. He straightens it out, cups your face in his hand so fast you think you've imagined it and then squints at you. 

"Don't die of heat stroke." 

He starts to walk away and you're startled. Unfairly, you don't want him to go, and you call, "Steve?" 

"Yeah?" 

"What about The Breakfast Club?" 

He grins at you, a lazy, King Steve kind of smile. "I was always gonna leave that here. So you can come 'annoy' me at work when you return it." He pulls a hand through his hair and gives you a once over and then spins on his heel. "Make sure you answer when I call!" 

You lose sight of him as he leaves, the couch backing too tall. He shuts the door kindly and you can just about hear the crunch of gravel as his car pulls away. 

"He was definitely flirting with me," you say to yourself, pouring a sweet handful of popcorn into your mouth. You're smiling so wide it's hard to chew. 

-

Dustin bursts into Family Video with his small entourage, Mike and Lucas, and an urgent look on his face. Steve quickly stops his facade of being busy when he clocks them.

"What? Need to borrow ten dollars?" he asks, rolling his eyes. 

"Actually, it's about Y/N," Dustin says. 

Steve stretches across the desk on his elbows. 

"What about her?" he asks, suspecting a waste of time.

"She was crying her eyes out in her backyard last night." 

Steve blinks, feeling a pit open up in his chest. "What? Why?" 

"Well…" Dustin says. "I didn't ask." 

Steve pictures your pretty face crinkled with tears, sitting on the paving stones outside your house. He wonders what would make you cry, sob, whatever it was. You'd confessed to being lonely though he sort of hopes that the feeling has ebbed now that he's calling you every day. At first, under the guise of checking up on you, but, I don't think I'm at risk of heat stroke anymore Steve. It's been a week and a half. 

Better safe than sorry. 

"Nancy said she saw her outside outside Bradley's Big Buy last night looking miserable," Mike adds, in one of his worst outfits, a mismatch of colours and long socks, a visor that Steve once tried to bribe Dustin to destroy on a hot day with his magnifying glass. The small burned spot perseveres at the caps edge. 

Steve feels weirdly proud at their concern and better, their detective skills. The three of them look like they could solve crimes, a mystery gang. Lucas is the only one dressed well in Steve's opinion, though that might be because he's in similar fashion, a nice polo and blue jeans. 

"You don't know what's wrong with her?" Lucas asks.

His pride wanes. "Oh, you guys are here for gossip?" he asks scathingly. 

"No!" 

"You're her boyfriend, right?" 

"Not-" Steve swallows, "exactly." 

Robin, who had been listening from her stool a few feet back, strides over and falls into place by his side, braced by her elbows. 

"If Steve were her boyfriend, we'd know why she was crying," she says, earning a round of boyish chuckles. 

Steve nods and then understands her meaning, feeling stupid for assuming Robin would say something that wasn't mean while at work. "Fuck off, I'm a good boyfriend." 

Four sets of eyebrows raise. 

"I am! I'm romantic." 

"You smashed our trellis and dislodged a drain pipe," Mike says. 

Steve pins the dark haired boy with a smarted look. 

"Sorry, is that not romantic? Sneaking out to see a girl?" 

"Sneaking in to a young woman's bedroom," Robin says dryly. 

"Pervert style," Dustin agrees sagely.

"Jesus Christ." Steve turns away from his band of adopted heathens and takes the phone into his hand. "I'm gonna call her." 

"And what? Tell her we were spying?" Dustin says. 

Steve holds the cold plastic to his neck. "Were you?" 

"Girls lie about their feelings, anyway. You're never gonna get a straight answer," Lucas says morosely. "Trust me." 

He slams the phone down. "What am I supposed to do?" 

They stand in a heavy silence. Steve can feel a headache clipping his heels, approaching fast, stress and a sharp worry for you. He really doesn't see why he can't call you and check in. 

"Something nice?" Robin suggests, picking at her nails. 

"Like what?" he asks. Though, as soon as he says it, he already has the beginnings of an idea. Whether its a good one or not is anyones guess. 

-

Somebody knocks the door and all you can think is, oh god why me? 

You're in a bad approximation of pajamas - your comfiest and yet your sloppiest, old and worn and unattractive. Fresh out of a stress-cry shower, you've only just managed to catch your breath. 

It's like you told Steve, everything lately feels so lonely. You'd gone grocery shopping by yourself and had known without a doubt that you were moving unseen through the world. Something about deciding between TV dinners. Nobody knew where you were, what you were doing, or where you were going. The only people seeing you were the storegoers of Bradley's Big Buy and your disgruntled cashier. You doubt you'd made a good impression. 

It was maybe a silly thing to feel overwhelmed by, but you felt it anyways. Sick with loneliness and then panic. A thousand what ifs had filled your head; you couldn't stop thinking, what if it's like this forever? 

What if I feel this lonely forever? 

You'd finished grocery shopping with a peculiar numbness weighing you down and then you'd gone home to cry in the garden, comforted and horrified by your flowers. They were pretty and you'd planted them and it didn't matter, you were still alone. A ladybug had crawled over the nearest planter and you'd watched it until you calmed down, knees crossed and elbows digging into your thighs, pins and needles in your hands. 

Another insistent knock. You consider ignoring it and curling up into a ball. Something hooks you out of it. What if it's Steve? 

If it's Steve, you're gonna feel very embarrassed about your appearance. You check your reflection in the sheen of a photo frame and sigh, rubbing your face with one hand as you open the door. 

Steve stands a few feet away, leaning against the side of his car with a pair of shades slipping down his nose. He takes them off.

You're so happy to see him you forget your rumpled outfit. 

"Hi," you say, half-shouting to cover the distance. 

"Hey beautiful!" Steve shouts, properly, loud and unabashed.

The door digs into your tummy. You don't know what to say. His compliment flusters you from the get go. 

"Hi," you say again, laughing under your breath. 

"Hey." 

"What are you doing here?" 

"Somebody told me you weren't feeling well!" 

You frown, thoughts racing, and suddenly summon the image of your nosey young neighbour. You take a step back instinctively and Steve must see it because his face goes stony. 

"I'm sorry, I know you probably didn't want me to know. But- when I found out you were upset, I couldn't ignore that. You'll have to forgive me." 

You try pushing the smile off your face with your hand and stand there scratching your top lip. "No. No, it's okay." 

He raises his eyebrows and takes a few big steps towards your house. You step out onto the porch and he closes the space between you, holding his hands out. You take them and he envelopes you, warm hands pulling you along and up the path. 

He walks backwards. "Don't let me crash into someone, okay?" 

A memory. The two of you hand in hand, ground flashing under your skates. 

"Okay," you say weakly. 

He squeezes your hands and drops them, a foot from the car. "Stay," and he doesn't finish, turning away from you. He opens the passenger door, the door behind and then the trunk. 

The smell is beautiful. A floral wave. 

The sight is something else. A carpet of bunches, bell-shaped freesias and carnations, roses in darkest red, chrysanthemums, dahlias, tiny orchids and irises; gorgeous purple irises with white centred petals buffeted by frilly sweetpeas. 

"They didn't want to give me the buckets but I told them I had a really pretty girl waiting for me, and if they suffocated in the heat then I was gonna drive right back and complain loudly." He stands by your side and nudges you. "Break out in tears." 

"That's a lot of flowers," you mumble. 

"Half the store. The other half's on standby." 

"Standby?" 

"I worried you might not have the space." 

"I won't." 

Your gaze flits over soft petals and light green stems, thorns and leaves and greenery, baby breath tucked in by plastic wrapping. 

"Why did you do this?" 

"You…" he laughs at himself. "Okay, so. The day you had heat stroke-" 

"I didn't have heat stroke. I had heat exhaustion." 

"Semantics. You were lying in the backyard. Just… sleeping. I was waiting for you to look up and see me, and I couldn't- I still can't get the image out of my head. You looked unreal." 

You feel hot all over as he searches for words. He's smiling wide as he talks, like he can't believe how happy he is. It's infectious. 

He shakes his head. "Anyway, I know you like flowers. Obviously. So." 

"So you got me a florists?"

"Half." 

You hug your torso. The idea that somebody would do this for you, that Steve would do this for you, is so alien you can't comprehend it. 

"They're for me?" you whisper. 

"For you. All of them." 

You look at him, the flowers, him again, and start to laugh. You throw your hands up to your cheeks and giggle like a little kid. 

"Why are you laughing?" he asks, an undeniable affection in his curiosity. 

"Why would you do this for me?" you ask in a similar tone. 

He purses his lips and shrugs. "You could've called me. I want you to know that." 

You scrub your hot cheeks and shift from foot to foot. "I was being silly." 

"It's not silly. It's not stupid. And even if it was, I still want you to call me. These are 'call me' flowers. Call me first." 

You wrap your hand around the top of the door and lean in for a look at the sea of flowers. Pollen sticks sweet in your nose. 

"Do you like them?" 

The smallest hint of insecurity. You can't stop laughing, joy warping every word. "Yeah, I love them," you say over your shoulder, feeling as though you've become nothing but a vestibule of breathless wonder. 

"I didn't know which one was your favourite." 

All of them, you think. Not sure you could pick one, your eyes bump from bouquet to bouquet. 

You try to blink them away but tears form quickly, lashes heavy with them as you stand up straight and wipe under your eyes with the back of your index finger. 

"Thank you, Steve." 

"You're welcome." Steve comes up behind you and takes your shoulder into his hand, thumb rubbing roughly over your shirt. "C'mon, don't cry. I got you all those flowers because I don't want you to cry, not to make it worse." 

"They're really pretty," you say, strained, pushing the bottoms of your palms into your eyes to stop from sobbing. That would be dramatic, you argue with yourself, so dramatic, but this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you. 

"Shit," he mutters. 

You tense up as his hand moves across your back to grip your other shoulder and he hugs you to his chest, left hand stroking the length of your upper arm, encouraging your hands from your face. 

"You're okay, baby," he says. 

You sniffle as his right hand climbs your shoulder to cup your neck. He pulls your face to his mouth and presses a kiss into your temple, warm and tingling, firecrackers under the skin. You turn your face to look at him and he pulls back, his chin jutting down. 

The shape of his lips lingers on your forehead, a burn. White hot.

Steve wipes the tear tracks from your face with the side of his hand.

"I know what'll cheer you up," he says. 

You miss his touch as soon as he's gone. He leans over the passenger seat, the chair and its footwell both bursting with flowers, and turns on the radio. You watch him click to the cassette player. He turns the volume up high and then pulls out. 

Slowly, the song builds into a zinging guitar. 

"Oh my god." 

"Have you seen her? So fine and so pretty," Steve sings with no hesitation. You're startled by his confidence.

"Fooled me with her style and ease," he continues, holding out his hand. 

You take it, listening to him fight his way to the right pitch, his voice cracking.

"And I feel her from across the room-" He takes your second hand, gaze electric. "Yes, it's love in the third degree." 

He tugs at your hand, nodding until you join in.

"Ooh, baby, baby," you sing weakly, searching for footing. 

"Won't-cha turn your head my way?" he begs. 

"Ooh, baby, baby," you both sing, Steve with more passion, pulling your arm one way and another in an awkward dance. 

"Come on, take a chance, you're old enough to," and here's where you both go weak and high and enthused all at once, glad the stereo's up so high you can't really hear it when you both shout, "dance the night away!" 

It's not quite night yet. You've a lot of dancing to do if you're gonna listen to Van Halen's instructions, the sun a half-disk of gold on the horizon, the sky raspberry pink bleeding up into darkening indigo. 

Steve grins at your growing enthusiasm and twirls you around. You only allow him this, too afraid to step on his toes as you come to a stop. 

He hums along and you clutch his hand. You covet the other where it's held to his chest, pushing your fingers through his. They fit together perfectly. 

"Am I ever gonna get that tape back?" you ask. 

"No," he says, laughing loudly. "No way. I love this song." 

"I love this song too. That's why I bought the album." 

"You said however long I wanted!" 

"I didn't think you'd stick around this long," you confess. 

"I did," he says. He leans down, stops. "Can I kiss you?"

You nod and beat him to it, hand at his collar as you step on your toes and press your mouth to his. You're both smiling, your eyes closed tight and your lips tight together until he pulls back, pulling his hand from your brushing grip to stroke the side of your face, rough in his rush. 

When you come back together it's slower, your lips parted mid-giggle as he moves in. You sigh, a high-pitched and embarrassing sound from the back of your throat that's quickly swallowed by his ardency. 

"Stop laughing at me," he admonishes playfully. 

"I'm not! I'm not, I'm really happy," you defend yourself, setting back on your heels. 

You've forgotten all about your pajamas and the icky feeling in your chest. With Steve's palms to your cheeks like this – like you're something worth being cradled in careful hands – you can't feel anything but happy. 

"I don't have enough vases for your flowers," you apologise as he chases you down, dropping kisses over the corner of your mouth and the apple of your cheek. 

"Good thing I begged for all those buckets," he says, brown eyes squinting with the force of his cherubic smile. His pert nose flares with a silent laugh. 

"Good thing," you agree. 

He holds you by the shoulders. "Good thing," he says again. 

You descend into another round of laughter that leaves you panting for air, your head dropping into his chest. "A really good thing." 

"I didn't go overboard, did I?" he asks, petting the nape of your neck.

"You did." 

"Sorry, I-" 

You wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze him as hard as you can. He groans lightly as he encircles your shoulders, the tip of his nose a butterfly's wing against your forehead, impossibly light and skipping, back and forth and back again. 

"I'm gonna make you flower shortbread," you say eventually, soaking in his warmth, his closeness. 

"Yeah?" 

"I swear. And more penuche. What's your favourite? I'll make you whatever you want. What do you have a sweet tooth for?" 

"Could I get another kiss?" he asks quietly.

You tilt your head back and wait. Steve isn't quite smiling though his eyes boast an emotion you're afraid to name, unbearably fond. 

"Are you gonna kiss me again?" you ask into the gap. 

"In a sec, just… let me look at you," he says, hand cupping your cheek. 

You blink back a stinging wave of tears and smile, tracing over his features greedily.

"You're beautiful," he says. 

It’s funny. You were thinking the same thing about him.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thanks for reading!

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things

[bakuliwrites]

Day One- Gale of Waterdeep

500 Follower Event, 30 Day Writing Prompts Prompt: Relic, Tender, Petrichor, Gale (BG3) Pairing: Gale x Reader Tags: Fluff, Kisses, Cuddling, Slightly Suggestive, Gale Route Spoilers, BG3 Spoilers Word Count: 741

Gale’s dark eyes sweep languidly across the page, no doubt committing to memory the poetic verses written within. You watch from the doorway, comfortably warm in the threshold between cozy library and chilly balcony, a mug of tea slowly cooling in your hands. It brings joy to your heart to see Gale this relaxed. He’s reclined in a loveseat, dressed in his usual soft sleeping clothes and donning a pair of new slippers. The book he’s absorbed in is tome-like in appearance: leather-bound, some sort of ancient relic etched in gold leaf on the cover, a hefty clasp hanging loosely on the edges. You smile to yourself as Gale cautiously turns an onion-skin page, brows furrowed in concentration as he scans the next verse. 

With a small sigh, you lean against the doorframe, looking out to the churning sea beyond. There is something deeply nourishing about your days in Waterdeep. Perhaps it’s the way light rushes across the surface of the sea on clear days, sun glinting brilliantly in the sky, seagulls calling out to one another on the drifting ocean breeze. Maybe it’s the twinkling stars mirrored on the water at night, waves crashing gently to shore and the world silent as can be. It could be the hustle and bustle of the town around you, the familiar sounds of a peaceful life you’d almost forgotten in your adventuring days. Or perhaps it’s the unwavering gentility, the steadfast adoration of the wizard before you. 

Gale catches you staring, the corners of his eyes crinkling with delight at the sight of you. 

“Care to join me?” his voice breaks through your silent musing, eyes softening when you meet his gaze, “Books are always better with company.” 

“Of course,” you return, for how could you refuse such an invitation? You abandon your mug on the coffee table, shivering when a gust of wind brushes through the balcony. With it comes a pleasant whiff of petrichor and brine, a scent you’ll probably forever associate this tranquil afternoon with. 

“Darling, you’re freezing,” Gale worries, shifting in his spot to give you room to lay next to him. The loveseat is hardly big enough for two, but all the more reason to cuddle, you think to yourself. And that was most certainly Gale’s plan, for as soon as you sit down, he draws you into his warm embrace. He’s quick to take one of your freezing hands in his, drawing it to his lips and pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles. He warms it with his breath before sneaking in another kiss to your palm.

“Better?” he ventures, a gentle beam breaking through the gloomy grey of the afternoon. 

“Much,” you softly chuckle, letting your forehead rest against his. This moment is suspended in time, the balcony suddenly a realm of its own. Beyond the soft sound of Gale’s exhales, you can hear a drizzle of rain pitter-pattering on the rooftop, droplets bouncing off the railing and landing in tiny ripples on the water’s surface below. Gale holds your hand to his chest, his other arm drawing you close. Beneath your fingertips is the velvety texture of his shirt, the gentle thrum of his heart. This is nourishment in its purest form: Gale Dekarios, his love silently enveloping you, body and soul. 

You angle yourself to better reach his lips, pressing a tender kiss to them, lingering for a long while. Gale’s tongue softly traces the part in your lips as your fingers tangle in his hair. He moves to press tiny kiss after kiss against your cheeks, eyelids, and jawline. 

“Hmmm,” you hum, when he dips to give some much needed attention to your neck, “You can keep reading if you’d like. I don’t want to interrupt you.”

Gale’s book is long abandoned somewhere on the loveseat. You suspect he might be sitting on it, far too engrossed in you to pay attention to the tome digging into his leg. 

A small chuckle reverberates through Gale’s chest when you inadvertently gasp, his lips ghosting down to your collarbone.

“You’ve well and thoroughly distracted me, my darling,” he admits, “I’d much rather you be the subject of my studies this dreary afternoon.”

“Then you are easily distractible,” you return with an impish smirk. Gale quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Or is it that you and your irresistible charm are incredibly distracting?” he teasingly returns, laughing as he pulls you closer and lays his lips to yours once again.

A/N: I adore Gale. Honestly, I adore all of the companions in BG3. And many of the NPC's haha. I want to write more for him, so maybe a fic in the future? Time permitting, of course. Thank you for reading! Up next in this event will be Portia Devorak from The Arcana!

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 spoilers #gale spoilers #gale x tav #gale x reader #my writing #drabble #fluff #one shot #500 follower event #30 day challenge #slightly suggestive #life is better when you're snuggling with a wizard

[holylulusworld]

Shy Guy (5) - Present

Summary: You grew up together. Bucky is the one. He’s just too shy to make a move.

Pairing: Shy!Bucky Barnes x Fratgirl!Reader

Sidepairing (friendship): Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: teasing, banter, friendship, fluff, making out, cocky reader, virgin Bucky, shy Bucky, mentions of Steve's sex life

Inspired by this ask: Shy guy ask and@dawn-petrichor-world​ made me do it…

Shy guy (4) - Past & Present

Shy guy masterlist

“Hmm…what else do I need to know, Stevie?” You eagerly take notes while Steve explains the complexity of asking a guy out without making him look like a loser. “I don’t want Bucky to believe he’s a loser.”

“Bucky is not a loser, but shy. He never kissed another girl,” Steve points at a picture of Bucky on the investigation wall he made for you. “That’s our target.”

You grin and lean back in your chair. “Please continue, Obi-Wan Rogers.”

He gives you a stern look. “Miss, if you don’t take my classes seriously, you can go home and watch a rom-com.”

“I’m listening,” you groan. “Go ahead. I need to know how to make a move on Bucky without scaring him off.”

“Alright,” Steve uses a pointer stick to point at the next picture. “That’s our goal. We want him to be putty in your hands but get hard at the same time.”

You lean forward to look at the picture. “Dude! Is that a dick pick?”

Steve snickers. “I googled Bucky’s name, and this was the first picture coming up.”

“You’re lying!” You stick your tongue out. “You can’t pin a dick on our investigation wall, Steve!”

“Why?” He shrugs your concern off and points to the next picture. “Before we get to the dick, we need to make him loosen up and ask you out. Or accept your invitation.”

“That’s a dog playing with a bone,” you wrinkle your nose. “Is that a metaphor or something?”

“Yeah,” Steve nods. “You’re like a dog with a bone. You sank your teeth into Bucky and won’t let up.”

“I’m not a dog, Rogers,” you snap at your friend. “I wanted you to give me advice, not turn this into a joke.”

“I’m not joking about love and dick,” Steve chuckles but keeps a straight face. “If you want him to dick you down one day, you’ll need to win his trust and heart first.”

“Good, that’s a start,” you take notes while Steve tells you about all the things Bucky likes. “Hmm…that’s good. Tell me more about his eating habits and the lingerie he looked up in his search history.”

“Our boy grew up so fast,” Steve sighs and gives you a wink. “You should see his search history. He’s an eager beaver when it comes to eating pussy and fingering a girl.”

“Oh,” you nod, and focus on taking notes, not the image in your mind. Bucky between your thighs, eating your cunt. “I like me a man who can eat pussy.”

Steve laughs. “Well, in that case, Bucky is your man. I watched him practice while watching porn. He’s got a skilled tongue.”

“That’s good to know, I guess.”

“Next step, we need to talk about his erogenous zones. You need to know how to touch him,” Steve continues. He points at his neck with the pointer stick. “Neck.”

“Neck,” you hum.

“Nipples. Earlobe. Lips,” he moves to his crotch. “At last, the divine meat stick.” He grins. “The dick.”

You giggle and snort. “Meat stick, got it.”

“Y/N,” Steve’s features soften when you look at him. “You need to make a move but don’t be too pushy. Bucky will shy away from you if you are too pushy.”

“Christ, I won’t shove his pants down to suck his dick,” you grunt. “Now back to the basics. Do you have an idea for the perfect first date?”

“Alright, miss,” Steve turns back around to point at the investigation wall. “We have a lot to discuss.”

“Doll, you’ve got this,” Steve whispers as he guides you toward the frat house. “He’s over there, looking for you because he wants to borrow a book. You look stunning. This outfit shows the right amount of cleavage and ass. But it’s not slutty.”

“Okay,” you take a deep breath. “I’ve got this. Bucky Barnes will be putty in my hands.”

Steve slaps your ass, making you squeal. “Go and get him tiger.” 

Bucky is smart.

Like really smart.

He speaks over five different languages.

Still, he doesn't know how to talk to a girl.

It's not that he's not attractive. Girls do look at him. He's just too nervous to hit on a girl he likes.

It feels like his voice fails anytime he tries to talk to one of the girls from the frat house across the street.

Especially when he sees you.

It's even worse that you are friends with his best friend.

Steve Rogers. Quarterback. Golden boy. A girls' magnet.

“Hey Barnes," you quip as Bucky zoned out again. "Whatcha looking at?"

“What?" he slowly dips his head to glance at you standing next to him.

When did that happen?

“I was just...”

"Steve won't come back for a while. I think this week it's Carrie or was it Chanel?" you huff. "I'm telling you; he tries to break a record or something. I’m worried about his health. What if he breaks his dick? He won’t be able to win the upcoming game with a cast around his dick.”

Bucky chokes on his spit.

You giggle.

“Uh—what do you want here if Steve is not around?” He gets out before dropping his eyes to his shoes. 

“Hmm…On Friday night we will go out. Wear something nice,” you cock your head to look Bucky up and down. “Oh, and no hair gel. I like running my fingers through a guy’s hair when we make out.”

“What?” he swallows thickly. His cheeks turn pink, and he feels his heart start racing. “Y/N…I…what? Is this a joke?”

“You know how to get a girl’s attention,” you lean closer to peck his lips. “I hope you know I expect you to put that talented tongue to better use…”

Bucky gasps as you pounce on him to claim his lips. You slip your tongue inside, snaking it with his as you run your fingers through his soft curls.

“Barnes! GOOO! Barnes!” the frat boys chant behind Bucky’s back. “We knew you had it in you all this time. He will finally get laid!”

You grin against his lips.

“Aw, I always had a thing for virgins,” you coo. “I promise to be gentle, babe…”

“What just happened?” Bucky looks like a confused puppy. He runs his tongue over his lips to taste you again. “Y/N, why did you…I…what?”

“Bucky,” you place your hands on his chest and look him straight in the eyes. “I call dips on you.” You smirk. “We are friends since childhood, and I don’t want you to get laid by some other bitch. You’re mine.”

“Get laid,” he chokes out. “Oh,” his cheeks turn pink, and he chuckles nervously. 

“Do you want to go on a date with me, Buck?” you run your index finger over his chest. “I know you don’t see anyone else.”

“Yeah,” Bucky stutters. “We can watch a movie or order food.”

“Buck,” you lean closer to brush your lips over his quivering ones. “I will cook, and you can decide on the dessert.” You grin. “I heard you have a very talented tongue and are burning to put it to good use.”

He blanched, and chuckles nervously. “It’s a date…”

“It’s a date,” you say and fist his jacket to claim his lips again. “See you on Friday, Bucky baby.”

“STEVE! STEVE!” Bucky stumbles inside their shared room. “STEVE! She asked me out and…what do I do now?”

“Alright,” Steve wraps his arm around Bucky’s shoulder to guide him toward the investigation wall. Steve changed the pictures to help his friend. “I have been waiting for you, Padawan. I will tell you everything about Y/N, women, and pussy…”

Part 6

Tags in reblog.

#Shy Guy (5) - Present #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fratboy!bucky barnes #college au #fratboy bucky #young bucky barnes #female reader

[johnpriceslamb]

can we get Arthur Morgan as like a daddy caregiver? I love your writing sm 🥺💓 thank you!!

𝓑𝓔𝓛𝓞𝓥𝓔𝓓 𝓒𝓐𝓡𝓔𝓖𝓘𝓥𝓔𝓡 ,

꒰୨୧꒱ never fear, papa-Arthur is here ₊˚⊹♡ !!

BEFORE YOU PROCEED ┊fem ! reader • little ! reader • Arthur Morgan if he was a caregiver/papa • fluff fluff fluff • cowboy papa ?! • reader is mentioned 2 have hair that allows itself to be brushed easily • OOC Arthur -.- • mini head cannons

Warm, like the sun shining amongst the early frost-spring morning dawn. The snow melts, and reveals a beautiful array of wildflowers which bloom with colour. Loving, as a dutiful teddy bear who gave the toastiest cuddles. And finally.. Cheeky, as a fox would as it titters around a bunny to play around with. The epitome of what Arthur was like, as a daddy.

“Papa.” You tug on his sleeve. You sat on-top of a burberry-fluffed up bedroll, legs spread in a W shape with a small plushie resting on your lap. What was he doing? You weren’t too interested to bother in finding out, other than wanting him back in bed to cuddle.

“…Papa >:(.”

“I hear ya, I hear ya.” He rolls his eyes, lazily plopping beside you on the edge of the roll. Your thoughts vanish easily as he grabs you by the waist and easily places you on his lap. You eagerly wave your legs because of the fact that it did not reach the floors when you sat on daddy’s lap like a tiny kitten whom wants to be groomed with the nails of her owners hand. Cuddle, your face quite literally demanded.

He did not hesitate at all, immediately wrapping his arms around your waist and cradles you.

You looked like you were in a doze, almost sleepy-like because of the way you rested your dainty head on his chest. Perhaps it was because of his warmth

He looks at you with that lazy dog grin again. A soft squeeze from his arms around your waist which pulls you back from your thoughts. And you hear the cacophonous southern drawl which deepens the second he speaks, “What’s my lil’ girl thinkin’ about, hmm?”

“Nuthiiiin’,” you cheekily giggle. You purposefully tinker those long lashes of yours, beady eyes staring up at his.

He looks at you with narrowed eyes. Something was clearly up.

“I don’t believe you for a second.” He lowly mumbles right next to your ear, squishing you playfully. You squeal and giggle.

His hugs were as sweet as marshmallows. You felt safe, he felt safe. Something about those hard, worn muscles coming to trap you into a bear-hug gives you the most happiest butterflies in your tummy. A soft nuzzle to your cheek, the stubble grazes the swells of your temple lightly.

You try to stifle the soft giggles escaping your lips. The large oak tree that loomed and towered over you hid your little figure easily. The bark you leaned upon stenches of fresh petrichor, invigorating. It scratches at your soft skin- but in a good way. The sun kisses at your skin prettily, but the small straw-hat adorned with a light pink ribbon shields the heat rays away from your face.

The faint grunts of spewing numbers out from papa was heard from afar. You hope that he doesn’t find you as easily as he did last round. You were quick, but he was quicker.

The wind sways and flows, allowing yourself to cool down slightly from the sun which shines through peaks of the bunched up leaves from above. It was warm, warm alike of daddy’s hugs. Warm like the way he looks at you. Warm like his hands which come to clamp onto yours heavily to allow the numbing cold fading to warmth.

You cover your lips with your hands as he approaches nearby. You crouch down, trying to peak your head.

That deep, familiar southern drawl hisses- almost like a snake, but with less venom and more teasing in nature. A crunch of leaves, followed with another, and a jingle of spurs. “Where could my little girl be..”

The air stills, just for a moment.

“Found ya.”

You squeal loudly and laugh, and he traps you in his arms again. The hat you wore fell to the grass. You felt weak in his embrace, but you weren’t afraid. How the small wildflowers around you danced around with the two of you happily, you squirm and giggle at the large adrenaline rush which spiked you in the heart as soon as you heard his footsteps.

The grass prickles around your ankles, the same sensation of his stubble which grazes near your cheek.

He snickers at your startled reaction, before cheekily grinning and poking you in the side. “Either I’m real good at this game, or you suck.”

You gasp.

Sometimes, days can get too lazy and things move much slower. You feel yourself sink into the bedroll, even more so as the the clock ticks ever.. so.. slowly. The stuffies around unconsciously squeak at the little girl to get up and start the day, but alas- you never heard.

Papa sits behind you, and you sit in front of him. The same teddy bear from earlier is plopped on your lap, as you yawn loudly from the eager amounts of fun you had a few moments ago. Your legs are tired and jelly-like, and your doe eyes almost succumb to sleep as he busily combs your knotty hair out.

You were too busy trying not to fall asleep to worry about the knots in your hair. You barely even felt the tugs of the brush forcefully breaking the knots into separate hair lines because of how gentle he was.

With just a few more strokes of the pricks from the comb, your hair feels less messier then before. The fluffy bloomers and the gossamer-made top makes it far more harder to succumb to not slumber.

“There we go,” He coos softly. As soon as he puts the brush down, the back of your head falls onto his chest with a snooze. He snickers at your sleepy state. It’s certain that the small game of hide and seek took a toll on your energy.

“Sleepy..” You mumble. Oh so adorably, too cute for his own liking. It was like looking at a pup.

“I know, girl. I know.” He coddles you gently, feeling a tad bit guilty, “c’mon, let’t take a small nap. Don’t want my baby to be all grumpy.”

“Cuddle..” He wants to roll his eyes badly, but resists as you sleepily pull him in. Those same, warm arms come to squish you like a baby mouse in the grip of a bears paw, but with no intention to harm.

#arthur morgan x fem! reader #arthur morgan x fem reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #sfw caregiver #age regression #arthur morgan x you #fem! reader #rdr2 x you #afab! reader #arthur morgan x fem! you #rdr2 #sfw agere #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fanfic #arthur morgan rdr2 #sfw littlespace #agere little

[forlorn-crows]

More non-serious sex brainrot: Mountain casual fucking. Guy just needs to get off, y'know? It's been a hard day of manipulating the fabric of the earth itself and the big guy just needs to blow off some steam by blowing out someone's back. Or getting his own blown out.

Walks into the ghoul wing and propositions the first person he sees. And, of course, who wouldn't be willing to lend a hand to help a friend out?

uhhh well you see. he didnt even make it out of the greenhouse. so, as a reward for being the sweetie that he is, rain gets his back blown out

cw: theyr'e disgustingly in love. good ole' fashioned spontaneous sex. a lil bit of oral, a lil bit of dirty talk. hard and fast and needy, and thats how we like it. unexpected knotting (oopsies). and, as always, transmasc rain. cunt/clit/folds to refer to his anatomy.

Mountain sets the last of the hanging baskets back into place, sighing bodily. He rolls his neck, wincing at the little pops his spine makes. But he’s satisfied with his work—all the flowers and ferns pruned and their soil refreshed—and very glad to be done. 

The earth ghoul brushes the remainder of the soil off the workbench, finally allowing the stifled need in his core to roll up his spine and settle under his skin. He digs his claws into the wood and groans out loud. Curling in on himself when his dick starts to chub.

The door to the greenhouse squeaks open, chilly autumn air rolling in along with the scent of petrichor and sea salt. Mountain has to stop himself from whining at the fresh, intoxicating smell. 

“Hey, sunflower,” Rain says brightly, drifting in with a dancer’s grace. “Brought you some tea and snacks.” He sets a shallow bowl and mug down onto the bench, pressing himself to Mountain’s side and kissing him on the cheek. “Orange cinnamon chai,” he points to the steaming mug, resting his head on the earth ghoul’s shoulder, “and there,” he points at the bowl, “are figs, pears, and some brie drizzled with honey. ‘Cause I know that’s your favorite.”

Mountain chuffs and dips a finger into a smear of honey on the edge of the bowl. He sucks it off, looking down at Rain with lidded eyes. Admiring the way the wind ruffled up his inky curls, the slight lilac blush to his cheeks, the little smile he gives when Mountain makes a noise of approval. 

“Do I detect a hint of honeysuckle, tadpole?”

Rain feigns surprise, looking up at him coyly. “Maybe,” he lilts.

Mountain rumbles happily and leans in close. “Just as sweet as you.” He cradles the water ghoul’s face in his hand and kisses him deeply, melting their bodies together chest to chest. Groaning when Rain opens up immediately and lets him stick his honey-coated tongue inside. 

The earth ghoul lifts him effortlessly onto the top of the workbench, wrapping Rain’s legs around his waist and hugging him close, all without breaking the kiss. Rain trills happily and sinks into Mountain’s affection. He drapes his arms around his broad shoulders, fingers playing with the mousy-brown strands falling from his bun. The action sends a shiver down Mountain’s spine, and he can’t help but gasp softly against the water ghoul’s mouth. His fingers tighten into the knit of Rain’s sweater. 

“Feed me some?” Mountain mumbles against his lips. 

Rain smiles. “‘Kay.” He turns his head to select a morsel, giving Mountain access to the long column of his neck. Eager lips surge forward to latch onto the sensitive skin. Mountain can feel the amused rumble that bubbles up in his throat.

“Don’t eat me, silly,” he laughs. “Here.” He holds a slice of pear between lithe fingers, dangling it in front of his nose.

“What if I want to eat you,” Mountain purrs. But he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue for it anyway. He curls it around Rain’s lithe fingers when he places the fruit in his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as he licks across the pads of them. Chilled and sticky-sweet.

Rain makes a soft noise, letting Mountain lick them clean. 

“Do you like it?” Rain whispers, watching as the earth ghoul closes his mouth around the tops of his fingers before pulling away and chewing. Mountain watches Rain watch his mouth, eyes flitting around his pretty, angular face. 

He hums and licks a stray droplet of honey from his lips. “It’s delicious, darling. Thank you,” he says huskily, pulling Rain closer by the waist. Rain trills as he runs his palms across the small of his back, dipping just underneath his sweater. Mountain buries his nose in the collar of it and not-so-subtly humps his hips against the edge of the table. 

“But I think I fancy something else right now.” Mountain nuzzles under his ear. Rain’s scent spikes with arousal and he can’t hold back the desire any longer. “Wanted to bend you over this bench as soon as you walked in the door.”

Rain shudders and groans approvingly. “Yeah?”

“Say you’ll let me. Please? I’ve been aching.” Mountain licks up the side of his neck and sucks his earlobe into his mouth. Rolling it between his teeth while Rain hisses and grasps at Mountain’s hair. “Take you right here, fuck you so good.”

“Fuck yes,” Rain breathes. “Right here, please do.” 

Mountain doesn’t need any more permission than that. He growls playfully and promptly flips Rain onto his belly, bending him over the edge of the workbench and yanking his sweatpants down all in one motion. 

“Lucifer—” Rain gasps through a surprised giggle, lifting his tail over his shoulder. 

Mountain lands a smack to his right asscheek and grabs two handfuls of him, groaning at the sight of slick already seeping through his folds. He spreads his cheeks wide and sinks to his knees in the dirt, shoving his face in Rain’s cunt. 

“Satanas, Mount, oh fff,” the water ghoul moans, pounding his fist on the table. “Your fucking mouth, unholy shit.”

Mountain groans against him, shoving his tongue in as far as he can get it. Pressing his nose into that soft spot before his hole and taking in the concentrated smell of need that goes straight to his rock-hard dick. 

“Taste like absolute sin, tadpole,” Mountain mumbles against his folds, too drunk on his flavor to stray too far to say so. 

“You can stay down there as long as you want,” Rain chokes out as he seals his lips over his throbbing clit. “Suck me dry, seven hells.”

The earth ghoul just hums, suckling on it until his nose gets wet with slick and Rain’s panting above him. Digging into his round ass so hard he’s bound to leave marks. But he doesn’t take him up on the offer, pulling away after a few heated moments. 

“Wanted to make sure you were nice and wet for me,” he all but growls. “Gonna fill you up so full.”

Rain whines and peeks over his shoulder, eyes drooping in pleasure. He wiggles his hips as he watches Mountain strip his apron, arching his back to make sure he gets a perfect eyeful. 

Mountain licks his lips as he pulls himself out of his pants, not bothering to push them any further than past his balls—just enough to expose his aching length. He grips himself and teases Rain’s folds with the head of his cock, up and down until he’s coated in creamy slick. 

“Fuck, look at you,” Mountain whines. “So perfect. All afternoon, I’ve needed this. Needed you.”

Rain pushes back, popping the head of his cock right inside. Mountain has to stop himself from blowing right there, steadying himself with one hand on Rain’s hip and groaning when his balls draw up with no warning. 

“Show me how perfect. Take me,” the water ghoul begs sweetly, breathlessly. 

Mountain can’t wait any longer. He pushes all the way in, melding their hips together. Growling low as Rain squeezes around him and breathes out little yesyesyes’s, urging Mountain to snuggle into that space made just for his cock. The earth ghoul’s forehead drops between Rain’s shoulder blades as he bottoms out, keening at just how good he feels. 

Mountain tells him as much. Rumbles endless praise into the fibers of his sweater, the curls at the back of his neck. Shuddering as Rain arches back into him and digs his fingers into the wood. 

“So perfect,” Mountain mumbles again, beginning to move. The first real slide of his length against those smooth, silky inner walls makes his mind hazy with need. He doesn’t get more than one slow thrust before he’s fucking Rain in earnest, wrapping his arms around his hips and forcing him to take it deep. 

“Mine,” he growls over the lewd sound of skin slapping skin. 

“Yours,” the water ghoul cries. “Oh, fuck me, ye-e-es-ss.” 

Mountain digs into his slim hips. Holding him tight so Rain feels the tip of his cock all the way in his stomach with each thrust.

“Feel so good,” the earth ghoul grunts. Rain clenches around him and he nearly sees stars. “Lucifer, take it, take it.”

Rain just nods, gurgles out something incoherent. Words aren’t important to Mountain anymore, though, not really. He just needs the water ghoul to make pretty noises, soak his cock in slick, and take every inch of him until he can spill inside him hot and fast. Siphon the burning need out of his core so he can actually relax after working all day. 

“Mount,” Rain gasps. “So deep, unholy shit.”

“Yeah? Gonna give it to you,” he growls, snapping his hips even harder. Each time their hips meet, there’s a little resistance at the base of Mountain’s cock, spikes of pleasure running through his hips and down his thighs with each thrust. He realizes too late it’s his knot, swelling and bumping against Rain’s folds. Growing bigger by the minute until it’s impossible to ignore.

“Hmpf, Rain I—” Another shudder runs through him, white-hot and insistent. He snarls. “Please, let me—fuck—need to put it in.”

Rain drops his forehead to the worktable with an audible thunk, groaning as he presses back against his knot. “Uh huh,” he whines. 

“Tell me I can, please, darling, tell me I can.”

“Put it iiinnn, Mount—hah—gimme it, need it.”

Mountain nearly sobs with relief. “So good to me, so fucking good to me,” he babbles. “Just need a little—that’s it, seven hells, Rainy.”

The water ghoul arches as far as he can, letting Mountain fully support his hips with just his forearms. Each thrust pushes more and more of his knot in, until finally Rain’s cunt stretches around its widest point and sucks him right in. Popping in with a wet squelch and the daintiest oh Mountain’s let out yet. 

“Fuck—”

“So good, squeeze it, squeeze it—”

“—yeah—”

“—cumming, cumming, Rain oh—”Mountain spills deep inside with fangs latched in his mate’s sweater, and he swears he’ll do anything Rain wants once he’s spent.

#ask #mal #the band ghost #ficlet #ghost fanfic #the band ghost fanfic #mountain ghoul #rain ghoul #transmasc rain #mountain/rain #rain/mountain #*raises hand* me next pls mountain #i remembered the community label this time! #did i re-read this? nope. cant be fucked to. #crow slipping back into 'doesnt know what a ficlet is' this is too long lmao

[wuahae]

✶ seventeen when you take your promise ring off during a fight

ft. hip hop unit

performance unit | vocal unit

seungcheol: his words spill over. seungcheol likes to pride himself on being rational, on having a firm hold on his temper even when everything around him is molten and up in flames. but one thing leads to another, words he doesn't mean slip out, a beat of silence passes, and then your finger is bare. (eyes wide, his heart take over his tongue in a panicked flurry. "fine, if you want to break up then let's break up.") he regrets it as soon as he says it, mouth gaping as his eyes go misty, but you interrupt before he can even get a chance to retract his words. ("do you want to break up?" you ask softly, the metal band rolling gently between your fingers. it doesn't take him even a second to refute. "no, I—" "ok." you walk over to him, drop the ring and gently close it into his palm. "ok.") you tell him you just need a little time to calm down, that you'll be back, but all seungcheol sees is the burnt ashes and barren soil of what was once a forest, former anger melting away into shame. he hasn't even apologized properly, how can you say you'll be back when you've left the ring behind and you've walked away from him and—his breath hitches. the warmth of the metal melds into his skin. (you'd left it so that you could come back for it, so that you would come back to him. and that despite the flames that once engulfed the land around him, there was a seed planted that could sprout once again.)

wonwoo: he tells you he loves you. the argument itself is a quiet affair, heated words masked in clipped tones and drifting glances. the second the ring leaves your finger, the air between the two of you chills, wonwoo looking at the abandoned ring, then to you, then back to the ring. there's a storm swirling within his eyes, tongue bitten in fear of saying something he would regret, so wonwoo says the only thing he knows for certain. ("i love you," and it sounds so simple when he says it you almost want to cry. love. like that was all that mattered.) it's gentle, the 'after.' wonwoo doesn't say much else, just that it's late, that you should rest, that you both can talk about this together tomorrow. you almost want to fight back with how easily wonwoo takes this, especially when you're still fighting the twist in your gut and the lightning ready to strike, but the thought dies on your lips before you can start. (wonwoo pulls you close before he leaves the room, tender fingertips holding your hand with a brief kiss to the top of your head. his thumb rubs the back of your hand before he lets go. "i love you," he says again. "good night.") the sun peeks through the clouds the next morning, soft words and apologies exchanged scent-drenched in petrichor, your ring safely placed back to where it always belonged.

mingyu: his mind goes blank. mingyu finds the ring on his desk the day after, tepid apologies still lingering in his mind from the night before. he thinks he's dreaming at first, blinking twice at it before reaching to touch his own finger. skin meets metal. it's not his. (you had left last night before you'd truly stopped being mad, mingyu could tell. clenched jaw, knitted brows, the fact that you didn't sleep over, and most importantly, the way you didn't say 'i love you' before you shut the door.) mingyu had thought you just needed time to cool down before coming back the next morning to soothe things over, but now it's a little past twelve and mingyu still has extra apology pancakes sitting on the counter and your ring is lying on the desk which means—(you're not coming back.) he feels the tears starting to well up in his eyes, a choked gasp sounding from his throat in a mangled sputter. you're gone and it's all his fault. (you find him half an hour later still standing at the desk, red-eyed and distraught. you call his name softly as you approach, his head snapping to your voice. "i forgot my ring here..." he sniffles. "...did you see it?") you let him cry into your chest afterwards, apologies soothing as you run your fingers through his hair, the ring slipped back on. it had just felt too empty without it.

vernon: he tries to conceal his shock. it's unexpected, when it happens. it's certainly not something that's happened before, but then again, you've never really had a fight like this before. to vernon it's explosive, it's sudden, but to you, this was inevitable. the ring pulled off your finger is the culmination of the little things you've been forced to tamp down and push aside because you wanted to be fine with it—because he was fine with it, because you felt like you needed to be fine with it. and amidst your distress, vernon isn't sure what he's supposed to do. (vernon doesn't know a lot of things—how to read the emotions hidden between your words, how to comfort your tears, how to keep you where you can still be in his arms. he supposes the only reason he's lasted this long while knowing nothing is because he's had you with him this entire time, but even that seems on the verge of collapsing.) vernon almost wants to feed into the panic, to ask if you mean it, to ask if this is the end, but the harsh sting of the action leaves him with a wound he puts off to nursing another time, one where he's not watching you stand at the edge of a cliff with the ground crumbling beneath your feet. so he extends to you the end of an olive branch instead, tells you he'll sleep on the couch for as long as you need and that when you're ready, he'll be there to listen to what you truthfully want to say. (you grab onto your end of the olive branch the day after the next, timid steps away from the edge. vernon welcomes you back with an open heart and a tight embrace.)

#seventeen reactions #seventeen headcanons #svt headcanons #svt reactions #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seungcheol x reader #s.coups x reader #wonwoo x reader #mingyu x reader #vernon x reader #hansol x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #svt angst

[the-real-housewives-of-waterdeep]

The Rain Song (Gale x F!Reader)

Rating: Mature; NSFW

Pairing: Gale/Female bard Tav (Reader POV)

Summary: Gale always enjoys visiting you while you compose even when your compositions don't always come out the way you plan. The two of you decide to write your own duet amidst the Tarsakh rain that falls outside of your tent.

Tarsakh. The season of storms left the environs surrounding the camp smelling of petrichor, damp stones, and ozone. Everyone had grown accustomed to trekking through the seasonal rain, both drizzles and more substantial showers.

The perpetual dampness chilled you to the bone and, by nightfall, you had long since retreated to your tent. Although it was poorly insulated, you could at least find a dry change of clothes and a few heavy cloaks to nestle yourself in while you toyed with your dulcimer.

Gale liked to visit you when you wrote music. He found it soothing, even when your chords clashed and you groaned in frustration from composer’s block.

“I come bearing an additional garment for your warmth, my love,” Gale announced with panache as he entered the tent. He brought with him a thick woolen tunic that he found while scouting. He draped in around your shoulders, taking care not to disrupt the positioning of your dulcimer.

You looked up and smiled sweetly. He had broken your concentration, but it was no matter. His visits were worth a break from your intense focus. “Thank you for braving the rain to see me,” you replied appreciatively. Gale was always so thoughtful; he knew how chilled you got in colder weather and never wanted you to experience discomfort. Occasionally, he fussed over you a little too much, but it was never unwelcome.

Gale knelt beside you and tenderly draped the cloak around your shoulders, kissing you just beneath your earlobe. His nose jostled your earring, causing you to shiver responsively to his touch.

“It is my pleasure, always,” he murmured in your ear.

You giggled inwardly and set your dulcimer on your lap to reach behind Gale’s head to stroke his hair. You could feel him exhale though his nose, practically purring at your touch.

“I do apologize for interrupting your practice, my love,” he continued. “I wonder, perhaps, if I may borrow your attention.”

You groaned softly, a natural reflex to the gentle baritone of his voice. You chuckled, tilting your head back towards Gale. “I suppose I can oblige you that.”

“Perhaps,” he said enticingly as he pressed his lips to your neck once more. “We could compose something of a duet together. What do you say?”

You snorted. “You’re corny,” you teased, “but I do tire of playing alone.”

“Then you shall play alone no longer,” Gale replied as a smirk played at his lips, which began to travel from your earlobe to your collar bone, following the shape of your taut neck muscles.

You moved the dulcimer from your lap as Gale’s muscular arms reached around you. One hand came to rest on your breast while the other arm wrapped around your waist.

“So soft, so lovely,” Gale smirked, easing you back into his embrace.

You looked up at him, seeing his earth-brown eyes twinkle with a mixture of arousal and affection, love and carnal energy. Your lips parted gently in anticipation of a kiss.

Gale grazed his lips over yours teasingly. You could feel the warmth of his breath over the sensitive skin surrounding your mouth, causing you to shudder in response. You stifled a whine of frustration and Gale pressed his lips to yours, smirking through the kiss.

“You’re such a tease,” you whispered hoarsely as his lips separated from yours.

“And yet, you always come back for more.”

You carded your fingers through his hair. “I don’t think you came here to listen to me practice, did you?” you purred as a smile played at the corners of your mouth.

“Perhaps not.”

Gale lowered you onto the bedroll, stroking your cheek. “How in Toril and all of the planes of existence could I resist the song of my muse and lover?”

“I’m not that skilled of a bard,” you giggled, rolling your eyes playfully as Gale straddled you. He rested one knee beside your hip and laid the other between your thighs.

“And still you lure me in without fail,” Gale murmured, his voice as smooth as fine leather. His grey-streaked hair hung loose around his face as he planted his hands above your shoulders. He smelled of old parchment, ink, roses, and petrichor. His hair was still damp from making the dash across camp from his tent to yours.

Gale leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. He sucked gently at your lower lip until you opened your mouth to allow his tongue to enter. Your tongues eagerly explored each other’s mouths, as if it were the first time that the two of you had ever kissed. Your fingers found their way up his neck and into his hair, carding through it with care. Your other hand slid underneath his tunic, feeling the warmth of his skin against the subtle roughness of your callused fingertips.

Gale’s breath hitched as you reached beneath his clothes, lifting the tunic off of his body. He pulled his lips back just enough to where you could feel the warmth of his breath, teasing you affectionately as his hands began to wrest your shirt free from your torso. Your chest was exposed to the cool night air that permeated the poorly insulated tent, causing your nipples to harden.

Gale took note of this and smirked inwardly. “Did you catch a chill, my love?” he purred, dragging a finger along your chest until he reached your nipple.

“Maybe,” you replied, your voice growing husky with enjoyment. Your back arched responsively to his touch. “Your hands are warm.”

“I have something warmer still.”

You pursed your lips into a firm line, stifling a smirk. You were tempted to tease Gale about being corny again, but the thought was quickly interrupted by the sensation of Gale’s mouth against your nipple, forming a gentle suction between his lips and tongue. He lapped at it gently before trailing kisses down to your hip. He slid your tights and underwear down over your thighs, gently setting them aside.

“Get back up here,” you instructed, nodding him back towards your face. Gale’s eyes flashed in recognition of your request.

“With pleasure,” he replied. His voice was low and soft yet still dripping with carnal hunger. He planted soft kisses up your calf and thigh, once more returning to your hip.

Gale eagerly slid his own trousers and briefs off, setting them next to yours. “If I may,” he began, “I would suggest a reversal of our positions. I believe it will be more comfortable.”

A half smirk alit on your lips. “As you wish.”

Gale laid down beside you, beckoning you towards him. His eyes glittered with excitement of what was to come. He subtly licked his lips, an allusion of what was to come.

You carefully straddled Gale’s face in a reversed position which allowed both of you equal access to each other. His cock, already erect and ready, pulsed eagerly in anticipation of your touch.

For all of your carefulness, Gale was growing impatient. The scent of you, the shape of your lips and their fullness were intoxicating; you were spread on display for him and he wanted to enjoy you. He whimpered and gripped your hips, his typical show of eagerness.

You smirked to yourself. He was always so antsy, so keen to taste you. If you weren’t so eager for his touch you’d tease him further, but tonight you were just as hungry as he was.

You leaned forward and came to rest on your forearms, just close enough to Gale’s thick cock to give it a little caress with your tongue. Your warm breath against his bare skin was the final straw, however.

Gale grabbed your hips with more force, lapping his tongue over the outside of your pussy. You shuddered at the sensation as your breath caught in your throat. You preferred to take your time usually, but neither of you had the patience.

Starting from the base, you dragged your tongue languidly up the shaft of Gale’s member. You felt his body tense beneath you, something that always brought you a sense of pride. He moaned against the lips of your pussy as your tongue caressed his cock.

Once you reached the smooth, delicate head of Gale’s cock, you flicked it teasingly with your tongue before taking it into your mouth. He moaned once more as his voice adopted a more strained quality reserved for moments of pleasure.

As you attentively created gentle suction on his cock, running it along the roof of your mouth, you stopped short and gasped. Gale had curved his tongue around the entirety of your inner lips, cradling them as he grabbed your asscheeks. You uttered a ragged whimper of enjoyment as Gale spread you wide.

His the rhythm of his licks and caresses accelerated as he delved deeper. Gale loved this part the most — the part where he got to tease you before sending you into the depths of pleasure. The tip of his tongue traced the soft pink delta of your clitoral hood. Your whimpers crescendoed into whines and mewls as he edged around your clit, giving just enough pressure to stimulate without overwhelming you. Even still, the pleasant heat of mere arousal began to burn harder and faster, stoked into a veritable fire of pleasure.

You hadn’t forgotten about Gale’s enjoyment, however. Even amidst the pleasure he gave you, you maintained a consistent tempo, stroking his cock with one hand while your mouth did most of the work. You alternated between suction, pressure, depth, and gently teasing the frenulum of his cock with your tongue.

As your tongue slid over the head of his cock, Gale let out a breathy and desperate moan. “Tav…” he gasped, his usual baritone voice now sounding strained and frenzied. “By the Weave…”

Your rhythms managed to sync as the two of you moved in concert, your vocalizations growing more desperate. You could feel your climax rapidly approaching. The sensation was almost too intense.

“Tav,” Gale breathed desperately. “Tav, I’m — I’m about to —“

Before Gale could finish, he let out a deep groan as cum erupted from his cock, filling your eager mouth. You received it so gratefully, swallowed it so perfectly.

Gale wasn’t done with you, however. You weren’t finished, so neither was he. He continued to lick around the inner vestibule of your pussy, sliding his tongue inside of you for extra measure.

Your moans grew more plaintive, bordering on cries of desperation. “Gale… Oh, Gods…” You struggled to stifle yourself, dampen the impending moan signaling completion, but you could not restrain yourself with Gale’s lips still sucking at your clit.

Your cries of pleasure came out in pitchy, staccato bursts, eventually becoming a low pitched growl of satisfaction as your climax faded.

You dismounted Gale and flopped down beside him, both of you sweating and dazed. Gale bore the same self-satisfied smirk he often displayed after pleasuring you so extensively. You leaned in and kissed him tenderly, feeling the lingering wetness of your pussy on his lips. His scent harmonized with yours to create its own aroma of love and lust.

“The song of our bodies and the song of the rain,” you mused, staring at the tent beams.

Gale exhaled softly and pulled you into his arms. He kissed the crown of your head affectionately before resting his chin on your head. “There is nothing quite so beautiful.”

Beyond the sounds of your breathing and your still-racing heart, you could hear the soft Tarsakh rains plinking against the waxed canvas of your tent.

#bg3 #gale dekarios #bg3 gale #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #gale x reader #baldurs gate gale #baldur's gate 3 #gale baldurs gate 3 #gale bg3 #gale the munch king strikes again

[multifanhoe99]

Kinktober Day 18- Voice Kink

Pairing: Felix x Fem!Reader

Warnings: He calls the reader love and baby a lot, Also pretty girl, descriptions of female anatomy, deep voice Felix, oral (fem receiving).

=Let me know if I missed any.=

18+ MDNI

PROMPT LIST

MASTERLIST

You loved spending days inside with Felix cuddled up on the couch. With his busy schedule, it didn't get to happen very often so you took advantage of it whenever you got the chance. He was currently sitting with his head in your lap and you were playing with his hair. Sometimes it was nice to just do nothing but sit in each other's company and do nothing.

"It looks like it's raining again. I know how much you love a good rainy day," he said, "The sound of rain on the roof, the smell of wet concrete outside. What do they call it? There's a name for that specific smell right?"

"Yeah," you replied, "It's called petrichor."

He smiled, "Oh yeah, yeah that's it. God, you're so smart. I love that big beautiful brain of yours."

"Oh stop it," you say. You loved Felix's voice. It was so dynamic and beautiful. It always did something to you. It was almost hypnotic. "I could listen to you talk for hours."

"Now who needs to stop," he said.

"No really," you said assuring him, "I love listening to you your voice is so cute and soft and soothing." He just laughs but, you really did mean it. He could be talking about nothing and you could still sit there and listen to him talk for hours.

About an hour has passed and you two are now cuddling in bed. You just finished watching a movie and were about to start another one when he said, "Wow, it's really starting to come down now. Listen to it out there."

"Yeah, it is," you replied, "I have to admit there's something so peaceful about being inside while it's raining. I know you get a little antsy when you're stuck inside but, I always feel like there's something, almost intimate, about rainy days. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yeah," he said getting a mischievous smile on his face, "rainy days just make me want to curl up in bed and absolutely worship you from head to toe. Come here pretty girl, snuggle up close to me." There it was. The tone in his voice drove you insane. Something about the timber in his voice sent shockwaves of pleasure straight through you. He knows it does too. You still can't help but do anything and everything he asks of you. Once he pulls out his bedroom voice you are putty in his hands and you wouldn't have it any other way.

You cuddle up closer to him and he says, "Yeah, just like that. Being with you, holding you like this, it's so nice. You make me so happy." You know that he genuinely means it but, you also know that he is riling you up on purpose. As he talks to you in his deep voice he starts to gently run his fingers up and down your body.

He continues, "You know what else makes me happy? This bed; God this bed is so cozy and warm." He continues to gently caress your body.

You let out a small moan as he sweeps over a particularly sensitive place. He smiles knowing his plan is working. He wants you all hot and bothered for him. He loves making you feel good.

Feigning ignorance he asks, "Does that feel good baby? When I just drag my fingers down your arm like that, and if I just kiss you here?" He kisses a sensitive spot on your neck that has you moaning. He leaves a trail of kisses along your neck.

"God, it feels so amazing just to touch you," he says with his lips against your neck, "Just this, feeling your skin on my lips. That's all I need. Unless you want more." Finally, he reveals that this was his plan all along.

He starts to pull away from your neck. You hold him closer again letting out a pathetic, "No, please."

He chuckles at your begging. Teasing you by saying, "Oh, so you do want more? You know I'll give you whatever you want, baby." He continues to kiss your neck even giving it a few licks and sucking beautiful purple hickies into your skin for him to admire later. You keep moaning at his actions. His voice alone has you in such a trance. Your body is begging for more of anything he will give you but, you know you want him somewhere specific. You feel yourself getting wetter the more he praises and worships you with his deep, melodic, voice.

"I'll never get enough of that," he says, "I love how soft your lips are and I love the way your body responds to me. It's so cute how your back arches as I slowly make my way down your body and how you let out that soft little moan when you want me to keep going. Why don't I tell you all the things I love about you as I trail my fingers down to where I know you want me to be?"

"Yes, please," you whine, "Please Felix. I need more. I need you to touch me."

He hums in satisfaction before continuing, "Let's see I love the way you kiss. I love the way your lips taste, the way your body shivers when I gently bite your neck like this." He bites down harshly on your neck. Your body does indeed shiver and you let out a long moan. His hands are taking their sweet time getting to where you need them most. He takes his time squeezing at your hips and helping you undress. He loves to savor the moments when he just gets to worship and praise you like this. He knows you love his voice and he is intent on using it to let you know just how beautiful he thinks you are.

"You're so fucking perfect, baby," he says now that he finally has you perfectly exposed to him, "I want to explore every inch of you with my lips and fingers and tongue. I really just want to focus on you tonight, baby. Is that okay?"

"Yes, Felix. I love it when you worship me," you answer.

"Good," he says, "I love your body so much, baby. I want to kiss your neck, your collarbone, your perfect tits." He leaves a hot, wet kiss on each place he mentions. His hands have gone back to softly stroking the skin of your thighs. You felt like you could cum from his words alone but, you still craved more.

"Look at you," he says chuckling, "God, I love how you respond to my touch. Look you're getting goosebumps everywhere. Are you cold, baby?"

You shake your head unable to form real words between your moans as he is now finally rubbing ever so softly at your clit. "Okay good," he says with a knowing smirk, "Must just be a reaction to feeling me rubbing my fingers along your clit and kissing you all over. I think you like it when it's like this. You like it when you have my full attention." You nod your head in agreement. His fingers and lips feel so good and his voice makes you feel dizzy.

"I know you do," he continues, "You deserve this and so much more. Where else deserves to be played with? Your lips are begging to be kissed and so are your tits and your thighs." He finally moves his head down to kiss and lick at your thighs. His hand also continues to rub gentle circles on your clit.

You moan loudly and he responds, "Good girl, I love it when you moan for me. Tell me all the places you want my fingers. Tell me where you want my tongue."

You moan out, "My pussy, please, please, please. I want you to eat me out, my love."

He lets out a moan of his own, "Your pussy, of course, baby let's see here. Oh, your pussy is so pretty, baby. I love the way you taste. You are so perfect. I love the little noises you make keep going, baby. Moan more for me." He says each sentence during breaks from devouring you like a man starved. It feels so good to have his tongue on you. You move your hands to his hair and squeeze your legs together whenever he does something you especially like.

"I love how you squeeze your thighs around my head as I slowly run my tongue along your pussy," he says during another break. This time he adds his fingers to your soaking entrance. He moves them at a decent pace making sure to curl up so he can hit your sweet spot. This way he can still pleasure you while taking breaks from sucking and licking at your clit to whisper into your ear.

"I love spoiling you," he growls into your ear, "You got me so hard I'm absolutely throbbing. You're so sexy like this for me I love eating you out." He continues to fuck his fingers into you and lick at your clit.

"Yeah, grip my hair tighter baby. Show me where you want me to be," he says. You grip his hair tighter and move his head to the perfect angle.

He stops one more time to ask, "Does that feel good? Can you handle all of this? My fingers and my tongue?" He then goes back to what he was doing. You could just respond with moans and broken cries of agreement. You were getting so close and he knew it. He doubled down his efforts no longer taking breaks to talk to you. Instead, he was very intent on helping finish you off.

After a few more seconds you came loudly, "Yes, baby! I am cumming! Ah, that feels so good!" After a while, you came back down to reality to see the love of your life with a dopey smile. Your juices and his saliva all over his chin and he was still rock hard.

"Did you enjoy that, my love," he asks.

"Of course, would you like me to help you now," you reply.

"That's alright, love," he says, "This was about taking care of you right now. I can take care of myself later. Let's go get cleaned up and then we can have dinner yeah?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Not gonna lie I was struggling to find the will to write. It was such a long day and I didn't want to do it but, then I came across this ASMR audio on the orange YouTube and it was PERFECT for this fic and for Felix. Thank you to people who suggested some other idols for this day but, this was too good to pass up. Let me know if you want the link to the audio if you wanna listen to it while you read this.

#kinktober 2023 #kinktober #x reader #k pop smut #felix x reader #lee felix #felix stray kids #felix smut #stray kids smut

[jasntodds]

Petrichor [20]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 10,185

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, some fluff, mentions of death, blood, canon violence, mention of drug addiction

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: Can you guys believe book 2 is finally done?? We're finally done with season 3!! lol Book 3 will be the last book and I will have some stuff posted for that soon!! I have a few chapters done already lol There's a longer author's note at the end!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

Jason’s hands are on your cheeks with his lips pressed to yours. Your hands are gripping the ends of his jacket hoodie with all your might, tugging him as close to you as you possibly can as if the very force of your grip will keep him here forever. The teeth of the zippers dig into the palms of your hands and you can't offer a single thought as your mouth moves with Jason's and everything starts to turn sloppy and desperate.

Jason backs you up to the wall where he pins you against it. Teeth smack and clank as you both grip each other wherever your hands lead you as if everything in this moment will fix all of your broken pieces and tainted dreams. You give each other everything, every breath and movement and every piece of yourselves to each other. Jason cuts himself open and gives you everything in him, every part of him even the bad parts just makes you feel whole. He bleeds him dry without ever second guessing it just for you, just to make sure you are happy. And you pull the air out of your lungs and offer it to him in silver jars just to watch him smile. You give him the very oxygen you breathe as if it’ll save him from himself. You offer him the air you breathe in order to see him smile and know he is enough. You give each other everything you can as if this will be the last time you have this moment.

Jason wants to believe this is not the last time but he has never gotten to be so lucky. Not in this life or the previous one. His own certainty is that he will love you in every life after. You have ruined him for anyone who ever even dared to show up later because he is stained by you and he would never have it any other way. But, there is that piece of him that thinks this is it. This is all there will ever be. Something will happen and this will be it so he gives you his all as his mouth moves with yours and his right hand grips your hip hard enough to leave bruises.

Time happens. You know time doesn’t stop anyway. Days go by and then weeks, then months, and then years. Something always comes up and it’ll always be a tomorrow problem and then another tomorrow and another until the tomorrows are neverending. This might be it because you both have a habit of getting lost in time and there is never enough of it. Time will go by and maybe this will be it for you. So, you give him every part of you as you tug the hair at the nape of his neck.

Jason pulls away just enough to kiss your cheek and tenderly makes his way down your neck only to be met with the sturdy armor of your suit. Jason huffs against what skin is exposed before he moves back to your cheek, only for you to laugh softly.

“Safety first.” You mutter through breathy words.

Jason snorts as his head feels fuzzy. "Fuck off." He mutters right as both of his hands squeeze your hips as if they're the only thing keeping him planted on the planet.

Jason slides a hand to your back, trailing over the zipper, ready to tug it down just as your phone starts ringing. The two of you pull away, breaking for some air that isn't tangled between the two of you only to let out groans.

"Cockblock." Jason states as you tug your phone from your suit.

You let out a chortle, not looking up at Jason as your cheeks start to burn. "Who says you were getting that lucky?"

Jason narrows his eyes at you before he raises his brows. "Hey, a guy can hope." Jason states with sarcasm as you look up at him with softness clouding your eyes.

"Fucking cockblock." You roll your eyes earning a laugh from Jason. "Least that was fun." You nod your head as your smile turns into something sad and soft.

You answer the phone before Jason can respond. Dick mostly just explains the sort of plan they have for the moment. They aren't sure what they're going to do about the people in the streets but if Jason and Dick and Donna can be brought back, he wants to find a way to bring all of them back, too. But for now, Dick explains he's going to send you and Jason into the manor together to start taking out of the cops working with Crane in order to give Gar access to the alarm system. Once it's disabled, they'll take back the manor and take down Crane. You and Jason both think it sounds easy enough but sounding easy lately, doesn't mean it will be. But, you both have faith in it. It'll be the closest you've come to taking down Crane anyway. So, you set up a time and end the call.

After the call, you and Jason stand facing each other as you both continue to catch your breath. With the call, the weight and gravity of the situation fall back onto your shoulders. Avoiding it isn't going to make the weight any better. You both need to learn how to remove the bricks one by one. The adrenaline starts to dissipate between you as you smile softly at him and Jason's cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink. Maybe that feels a little unfinished but...maybe that gives you both the opportunity to come back even if it's just one last time for old-time's sake and for now, you're okay with that.

"Well," Jason sucks in a breath finally pulling his hands away from her hips. "Wanna try and get some sleep for a few hours?" Jason offers.

"Yeah, I'm fucking exhausted. I, uh, I don't remember the last time I really...slept, actually." You let out a sheepish laugh.

"Come on." Jason jerks his head towards the bed on the opposite side of the room. "I'll set an alarm." Jason smiles softly at you.

The two of you get into the bed just as you always have. You still say you'll never make him sleep on the floor and it's not like this is something new, even as friends. It doesn't matter. And Jason is happy with this. He's hoping maybe he'll actually get some much-needed sleep anyway. You always made him feel a little more at ease anyway. So, you lay down, your head on his chest and you try to get some sleep before you need to be at the manor.

By the time the next morning rolls around, you and Jason have gotten some sleep. It wasn't good sleep or very much. Some of it was just being a little worried for what today would bring and if Crane planned on setting off another bomb to kill more people. Some of it was worry for the other Titans. And then some of it was just stress. But, you both did get some sleep and Jason's alarm woke up you with a jolt.

A heaviness fills the air between you, knowing this will be it. This is your shot to take out Crane. This is your shot to take back the city. If this plan doesn't work, Crane will expect everyone always and you'll lose. You can't afford to lose today. But, this is what being a vigilante is about. It's risking everything for the greater good. So, the two of you get ready and head outside to Jason's bike.

Jason hands you the extra helmet before he mounts himself on the bike. You're chewing the inside of your cheek, your grip tight on the helmet. Jason can feel it, too. He doesn't want you anywhere near Crane. He could have killed you the last time you were face-to-face. He tried to kill you and that alone nearly sends Jason into a rage. Jason wouldn't put it past Crane to try again or try to get Jason to do it or make Jason watch. You can't die. He doesn't want you to get hurt at all, you've been hurt enough by Crane. It's not up to Jason though. This will never be up to him.

"You sure about this?" Jason asks you, mostly just checking in.

You nod your head softly. "Uh, yeah. Just..." You suck in a breath. "Fucking Crane, ya know?" You shake your head, looking to the ground as you lick your lips. "Ready for this shit to be over." You scoff as you loos back to him.

"You gonna kill him?" Jason asks.

"Did you want to?" You ask right back.

"He almost killed you so..." Jason tilts his head to the side, his voice almost telling you you should have known the answer.

"Dick's never gonna let us." You laugh softly before you pop the helmet on your head.

"He's not gonna stay in Gotham forever."  Jason quips as he puts the Red Hood helmet on, making you laugh.

"Yeah, that's true." You take your seat right behind Jason. "Guess we'll just wait until the Titans leave then." You say sarcastically as you wrap your arms around his waist.

"Let's get this going then." Jason says before he revs the bike.

The drive to the manor is quiet, a lot quieter than any ride with you and Jason ever is. On most days, you’re talking through your comms, usually making some sort of inside joke and making some sarcastic jab at each other but today is not that. This is the first time you’re back in the manor together since Jason died. It will not feel normal. It will not feel safe and it won’t be safe. Crane and all of his men are there and this is not how it should be. This is not how you ever imagined it to be.

He was alive and you thought it would be warm and a relief to have him back home. Back at the manor. But, instead, it just feels like dread that’s consuming you because he didn't come with you. He isn't coming home with you. You're only going home together to beat Crane and that stings more than you'll ever tell him. But you have to do this. There is no choice. You are out of options when it comes to Crane. The National Guard has been sent in and Gotham City is under lockdown. Crane wants to take out every person in the city. If you don’t do it now, there may not be a Gotham tomorrow. It’s for the better of the city.

There is also the thought that this is the end between you. You’ll take out Crane today and then…that’ll be it. You’ll go your separate ways for a little bit because that’s what's for the best for both of you. But that doesn’t make the pill any easier to swallow.

As for Jason, he’s focused on the mission at hand. He wants to get in and get the hell out. That’s all this is. For the better of the city. But, he’s also trapped in his own head because he did trust Crane so there is some distant part of him that feels bad about it. It’s the right thing to do and he knows Crane doesn’t deserve sympathy for everything he’s done but something about it feels hard and Jason hates that feeling.

And he’s worried about what will happen when Bruce comes back. Eventually, Bruce will know Jason is alive. Once he finds out, he’ll know about Red Hood. Before, that was fine. It was spite. A fuck you to Bruce and the Bat and everything he stood for. But, Bruce killed the Joker for him. Bruce threw away all of his morals for him. That changes things. Jason is firm in his beliefs and what he wants to do after all of this. Nothing is going to change his mind but there is a part of him that is tired of letting everyone around him down. Bruce is the closest thing to family he’s had since his mom died. He never wants someone else to end up like him, go through the hell he’s been through, but he doesn’t want to give up on this either. Not if Bruce really did that. For him.

Then, there’s that thought of being alone. It’s for the best. It’s for the best for him and you. But, he remembers what it was like returning to Gotham without you while you were a Titan. How it felt like the longest month of his life and you weren’t even together yet. But, you were different people then. You aren’t the same stupid kids who were so infatuated with each other, you could hardly breathe. You are more calloused and damaged and bruised and broken. It’s for the best as you learn to live with your new scars. As you come into yourselves as individual people. It’s going to be hard but it’s for the best. Jason swears it’s for the best and the lump in his throat starts to close off his throat.

“How we doing this, Jay?” You ask once you dismount the bike on the outskirts of the property.

Jason takes off his own helmet. “We’re not going to get in with you just walking with me.” Jason starts, gesturing for you to give him your helmet. “Pretend to hold you prisoner, a peace offering to the psycho.” Jason puts both helmets on the handles, trying his best to be casual about it.

Jason knows that’s a big ask given your history. But, he’s not going to tie you up for real and he’s not going to let anyone else do it. You'll never even see Crane until everyone else gets into the Manor. He knows it's not something you'll take lightly. He just doesn't know any other way. It's not like he can sneak you in, that's why Gar needs to enter as a bat in the first place. Turning you into Crane gets you both in but if you aren't comfortable, Jason knows you'll have to figure something else out. This is just the best, easiest, and quickest way.

You nod your head once. “Right, yeah, okay.” You pull in a weary breath.

The idea of even pretending to be restrained makes you want to peel your skin off your bones. You swore never again. You would die trying to get out of it ever happened because it simply can't. If you get restrained again, what happens if you never get to be free? What if something worse happens? It's why you don't like to use your powers. But, this is Jason and even after everything, you have enough trust in him to know he's going to make sure you can free yourself. It makes you nervous and it scares the hell out of you but you also know there isn't another way. You put your trust in him.

“Is that alright?” Jason asks, seeing the hesitance in your face.

You nod quickly. “Yeah, yeah, of course. It’s our way in.”

Jason nods, his eyes darting over you quickly. "Let's get going then." Jason jerks his head in the direction of the manor.

"Think they'll really buy that?" You question as the two of you start your walk to the manor.

"Guess you'll have to channel your inner thespian." Jason offers you a cheeky grin, trying desperately to ease some of your anxiety.

"That's your job, theater boy." You roll your eyes as you laugh softly.

"Oh, well, we know I've got that covered." Jason chuckles, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "You always said I was fucking dramatic." Jason lets out a light-hearted scoff, looking over to you.

"You are." You let out a laugh. "Most dramatic person I ever met." You scrunch your nose as you look back him.

"Yeah, right." Jason scoffs but the smile beams back at you.

The two of you keep up a steady walking pace through the grounds of the manor. Crane doesn't seem to have anyone watching this far out. Chaos is ensuing in the city which means Crane's eyes are probably there and not on the cameras for the grounds. So, your walk is overall pretty peaceful given your circumstances, something the both of you are thankful for.

Once the two of you start to get closer to the front of the manor, you stop behind a few of the trees to scope out the front. There are two guards standing right out front, fully armed and in riot gear. They don't seem to be paying too much attention but the front of the manor is open so you'll be seen immediately. That's the plan anyway, get in without any disturbance and take them all out at once just to get inside. If you make a scene out here, Crane could lockdown the manor before you ever get a chance inside.

"Okay, I'll just hold your hands behind your back. You act like you want to kill me and we're golden." Jason offers you a cocky smirk.

You nod your head with the roll of your eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know the drill, thanks." You laugh softly but there's something off about it.

The lack of quip and how the laugh sounds hollow. The smile falls almost immediately as you look at his hands. You bite it back and clear your throat, standing in front of Jason with your hands behind your back. Jason's gloved hands hold your wrists soft enough you could barely move and slip right from his grip. He's mindful, keeping his grip above where the scars hit even though they're covered by your suit.

You can feel his grip still and it's like you're being suffocated. The scars on your wrists start to burn, resembling the burn of you tugging and pulling on the cuffs, desperate to get out. You can feel the skin cracking out in a burn and then a deep welt before it's covered in blood. It burns and it aches and it stings. Your stomach twists and turns with nausea. It's the right thing to do because it'll get you in there. You can help and not being able to do this makes you feel weak and useless. But, it's as if you're frozen in place.

"Are you sure?" Jason asks quietly from behind you. "We can try to just tell them I convinced you to switch with Nightwing being dead."

You look over your shoulder, meeting the concerned look written across Jason's features. They'd never believe Jason could get you to switch sides. It would out you and Jason immediately and the whole thing would go to shit. It's for the greater good of Gotham and you trust him.

"Yeah," You nod your head. "Just hope it works." You pull in a breath as you turn back around.

"If not," Jason pauses for just a second. "We'll go down swinging anyway." He says it casually and you can't tell if it's supposed to be reassuring, a joke, or an acceptance of your possible fate.

"Always thought that'd be our way out." You let out a scoff that's ended with a half laugh. "Let's just go before we're late."

The two of you come out from the trees and start your walk towards the driveway. It only takes a few seconds for you to be spotted. The guards point the gun directly at you and it burns Jason's bloodstream knowing they're mostly pointed at you. If one of them even slips or gets a little too trigger-happy, Jason will lose his entire mind. He doesn't exactly trust them. But, he bites it down because if he starts worrying and getting annoyed, you will do the same.

"Found her snooping around the trees." Jason states once the two of you get closer to the front steps, one of the cops meeting you on the driveway.

"Get fucked." You scoff.

"And you're turning her in?" The guard questions, not buying it.

"Told Crane, I'm all in for his plan. Just here to prove it." Jason says casually, hiding every piece of annoyance and anger he has towards this whole thing.

"And you let him capture you?" The guard narrows his eyes at you.

"Fuck you you fucking piece of shit." You bark back. "No, I didn't let him that would be fucking stupid."

"Where are your friends?" He questions.

Your annoyance is not fake. You hate this guy already and the questioning is ridiculous. Why would you tell him anything and why would Jason tell him if he switched sides?

"I'm not a fucking rat unlike Red Hood here." You narrow your eyes back at him. "They're gonna stop him though." You threaten. "The Titans will win."

The cop gives you a sinister laugh, a way to tell you the Titans don't stand a chance. You swear arrogance has only ever worked on Jason. Arrogance on everyone else seems to make them stupid you think.

"Come on." The cop scoffs, leading the two of you through the front door as the other cop joins you.

Jason's grip is loose against your wrists as the cop walks you inside. The cop trails behind you, keeping the gun on Jason, clearly not trusting him. Jason gets the idea Crane knows he's done. That's fine, really. You're inside and with every step, Jason is thinking of a way out of this if it goes south. He should be able to hear the movement of the gun being held tighter before a trigger is pulled. The fabric of his jacket will move and he can shoot first. Your clairvoyance should go off and you'll have a knife out in the same breath. If this guy takes it into his own hands, it'll get messy quick but you'll have a way out. Jason focuses on a backup plan as you're nudged into the kitchen.

"You're not gonna believe who we caught outside trying to get in." The cop states as he leads you into the kitchen where three other cops in riot gear are gathered.

"What in the actual fuck are you trying to pull here?" One of them asks, his eyes directly on Jason. "Crane is done with you."

"I saw what he did downtown. Let's just say I'd rather be in here when the next bomb goes off." Jason states. "Found her when I showed up and thought I'd show my loyalty to Crane by bringing her in."

"What the fuck makes you think he'll take you back?" The guard asks. "Even with her."

"Pretty sure he's getting tired of dealing with the second string." Jason scoffs.

"Dr. Crane?" The guard states after touching his own comm device in his ear. "Red Hood is here." He says after a few seconds. "And he brought Bluejay, says he captured her for you." He pauses for a few seconds. "Thank you, Doctor." He touches his earpiece again before turning to the guy behind him. "Take them down. I'm gonna go outside and see if we have any other visitors here." The cop says before he rams his shoulder into yours to walk past you and Jason, making Jason's grip tighten on your wrists as an instinct.

One of the cops walks behind the two of you and shoves Jason and in turn, shoves you, too. The two of you nearly trip over each other as you move closer to the middle of the kitchen, standing between the islands while the four cops surround you. There's a feeling creeping into the back of your head, spreading through to the front. It's not quite throbbing like it usually does but there's a subtle alarm going off. It feels more like just a gut feeling something isn't right in this kitchen and based on the second squeeze you get from Jason on your wrist, he knows it, too. All you have to do is wait for Gar to trigger the manor's alarm system.

Just then, as if it be on cue, the alarm starts blaring from above you. Everyone looks up and that's the cue for Jason and you to get this thing going. Jason drops your hands and in an instant, Jason takes his elbow, ramming into the face of the cop behind him while you spin around, throwing a kick at the one behind you.

The cop Jason is fighting immediately starts firing while Jason grabs his arms, spinning him around so the gunfire stays away from you. He yanks the gun away as he tosses the cop over the counter all while you fight the first cop, elbowing him unconscious before throwing a knife at the one about to shoot you. Jason keeps his gun aimed at the last man before hitting him with the butt of the gun, knocking him unconscious.

Jason and you exchange a look with heavy breaths once they're all either down or dead. There's a glint of a smile coming over Jason's face as he shrugs.

"Don't gloat." You state, Jason seeing the smile come to your eyes.

"I wasn't saying shit." Jason defends but there's almost a laugh that leaves his lips.

"Mhm, something about how you trained me well or something." Your eyes narrow but there's something soft over your expression.

"I did." Jason holds his head with pride before he lets out a breath. He misses patrolling with you, fighting side by side. He thinks he'll always miss it. "Come on. We gotta get to Gar before they find him."

The two of you quickly make your way through the kitchen and to the main staircase, leading to bedrooms. You follow behind Jason with two knives in hand, keeping an eye over your shoulders while Jason watches around the corners you reach. As you round another corner and keep up your steady pace, Gar pops out from the corner from the hall that continues to your bedrooms. Gar immediately takes a step back, fear falling over his face.

"Hey, Dick sent us, okay? I'm on your side." Jason rushes quickly.

"I told you, he's with us." You urge not liking the fear over his face or the way his arm is almost in position to fight.

You don't blame him and neither does Jason. He just got Dick killed the other night. This is an entirely fair reaction for him to have regardless on if Jason was trying to help or not. And then Gar's eyes widen just as the back of your head starts throbbing.

Jason and you turn at the same time, Jason firing two shots while you throw a knife. Both of you hit the one cop, sending him to the ground instantly. You and Jason look right at each other and just nod before you turn back to Gar.

"See?" Jason questions.

Gar isn't sure just how relieved he is but he is thankful. "Thanks." Gar nods, his voice still a little unsure.

"Set up the router." Jason states.

"We'll watch the hall." You finish as the two of you stand on either side of the hall, opposite each behind two of the large pillars.

Gar ducks behind the corner and starts communicating with Dick about Jason and you being there before he starts working. But, it's only a few seconds before two of the cops show up, jogging through the hall but they're met by Jason and you as you duck from behind your pillars. Jason takes one while you take the other, the two of you using your fists and elbows for nonlethal force, successfully knocking out the cops before you go back to your spots. Jason flashes you a smirk while you roll your eyes.

The two of you wait as Gar takes down the system while Dick is on his way inside. You look over to Jason, his back pressed against the pillar with his gun that he stole from one of the cops downstairs held against his chest. You think about how you're going to miss this part of it. Dick said you work well together, it's why he wanted you to team up for this. Part of it. And you do. You never have to speak to know exactly what the other one is going to do. You think that probably isn't too common and you're going to miss it. You'll miss him, even if it's only a week you don't talk.

It's only a few minutes before Gar finishes up and meets you and Jason in the hall. He looks more relieved now as the three of you stand in the hall and it almost feels like it once did.

"So, you're really with us?" Gar asks.

Jason nods. "Yeah, I'm done with this shit." Jason lets out an easy scoff. "Sorry for everything, man."

"It's okay. You were drugged and manipulated." Gar offers his understanding. "Thanks for the help." Gar nods before he looks to you. "Thank you."

"Yeah, don't mention it." You smile under your mask as you scrunch your nose until you hear fighting and gunfire from downstairs.

The three of you exchange panicked looks before you run down the hall and towards the staircase. You and Jason take one way while Gar takes the other so you have both entrances covered to the main living room, hearing that's where the gunfire is coming from. The three of you reach your entrances just in time to see Dick throw one of his weapons, hitting the barrel of the gun pointed at him which makes it backfire, killing the cop holding it. You, Jason, and Gar enter fully into the room, slightly concerned by the whole interaction and the amount of bodies littered over the floor but not even willing to question it. It was Dick's life or that cop's and he wasn't going to let Dick walk out of here alive.

Dick walks up to the camera and grins wickedly before he salutes it. Bringing Crane down is definitely bringing Dick a lot of joy. It's bringing a lot of the Titans a lot of joy to bring him down.

Dick starts a quick pace to the entrance to the Batcave. "Let's go." He says, looking towards Jason and you.

"No." Jason says quickly, making Gar and Dick stop their walk to the entrance while you look to Jason with confusion. Dick nods his head at Gar for him to keep going before he closes some of the distance between him and Jason. "Look, this is a Titan's job. He knows I turned on him and that's enough for me. You guys finish it."

Something about the way he says it, as a form of acceptance warms your heart. Jason Todd doesn't hold very many grudges. He is not a mean person and he is not a monster. He should walk into that Batcave and rip Crane's head right off of his shoulders for everything he's done but he doesn't. Jason recognizes he was part of this problem. Drug or not, it does not matter. This was his doing and the Titans deserve the right to take him down. Crane knowing Jason turned on him and Jason being allowed to help the Titans, that's enough revenge for him now. He knows you'll give him hell anyway, it's your hell to bring him if you want it that bad.

"You sure?" Dick asks, somewhere between surprised and understanding.

"And tell the others I'm sorry." Jason shakes his head. "For everything." His voice is soft and honest.

"Thank you, Jason." Dick states with a nod of his head.

Dick Grayson can hold a grudge. Sometimes, he can be bitter and angry, understandably so. He can hold a grudge and maybe he should sometimes. But, Dick Grayson is not a mean person. He is not unreasonable. He is understanding and he cares about the people he loves and protects. It was his job to protect Jason at some point and he failed. Maybe some of this is on him and he died. That was a missing piece he really needed to understand how they even got here. He can hold a grudge but one against Jason is not one he's willing to have. He is thankful and hopes once this is over, they can both move on from whatever bitter rivalry boiled between them.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Jason starts as he starts to move away from Dick and towards the exit. "I was never here." He finishes before he leaves the room, you looking back at him before looking to Dick.

"Go." Dick states. "Something tells me you'll find Crane your own way, anyway." Dick doesn't sound pleased but he almost, just almost, looks content.

You nod softly. "Tell him I'm coming for him." You state the smile reaching your eyes just as you hear rapid footsteps coming into the room. Your mouth falls open from behind your mask as your eyes widen and turn watery. "Tim!?"

"Hey!" Tim chimes with excitement.

"I thought you were dead!" You rush over to him and pull him into a hug.

"Oh, yeah, I kind of died." Tim answers. "I don't know. It was weird, Donna was there." Tim's voice is filled with excitement at the mention of Donna, something most people would probably find off-putting. But, not you, that's just Tim.

You pull away, looking between Tim and Dick before you just roll your eyes. "I...okay." You shake your head, deciding to ask more questions later. "I'm gonna go. Fill me in later though, very happy you're alive." You smile before you turn on your feet.

"I knew you were Bluejay." Tim chuckles with confidence.

You turn around and deadpan but Tim holds his confident smile. "Shut up." You let out an exasperated sigh before you turn around and follow where Jason left.

Jason has done everything he can do. Crane might have caused him pain but at the end of the day, it was Jason's trust in him that allowed Crane to cause everyone else so much pain and agony around him. Crane got control of the city because Jason trusted him. Bringing down Crane, that was never supposed to be Jason's job. That should be on the Titans, Jason knows he's just lucky to be walking away from it not only alive, but free.

He walks out of the manor and for the first time, he feels free. He is not obligated to come back. He's not obligated to offer anyone anything anymore. There is no obligation to be a hero or a villain. There is no obligation to be back by a certain time or an obligation to put food on a table. He is no longer obligated to take care of anyone or look out for anyone but himself. For the first time, Jason Todd is free to be whoever the fuck he wants to be without anyone else's opinion or input. That part is a bit terrifying but there is something cathartic about it as the cold Gotham air hits his cheeks. There is guilt and remorse and a heaviness he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to shake. There's the haunting ache in his bones but...he is free to live how he wants for the first time and that, is cathartic.

"Jay!" You call after him, stepping out of the manor.

Jason turns around, brows pulled together. "What're you doing? Thought you'd be in there with them to take down Crane."

"Dick's not gonna let me kill him." You let out a chortle. "And...Tim showed up anyway. It is Crane's fault he died." You nod.

"He died?" Jason questions loudly, his eyes shooting open.

He knew it was bad that night but he didn't realize Tim had died either. He was kind of with you, hoping he lived. It was easier to just hope it would work out. But of course, Crane just had to take out someone innocent. Jason hopes Tim is in the Batcave right now giving Crane absolute hell.

"Yeah," You say quietly. "Um, he seemed okay for the few seconds I saw him. Seemed happy to be here." You laugh softly, looking to your feet before looking back to Jason. "I, um," Your brows pull together as you suck in a breath. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Yeah, yeah, all good." Jason nods his head, earning an eyebrow raise from you. You could always see through him like he were cellophane. "I'm not Robin anymore." Jason confesses, looking around the manor before his eyes come back to you.

"You're not." You nod your head, almost dreading where this is going.

He never needed Robin. He could be just as great as Red Hood or as someone else or just Jason Todd. You aren't sure that's where this is going but you do know what Robin meant to him. You can only hope he will see his worth one day and he'll be able to move on from it with fondness.

"Bruce isn't here." Jason lets out a sigh.

"Nope." You shake your head once, now wondering where Jason could be going with this.

"I can be...whoever I want." Jason swallows thickly before looking to the ground.

You pull your mask off, closing some of the distance between you as a tender smile comes over your lips. "You deserve it, Jay."

Jason could always be whoever he wanted but he always felt like he needed permission. People always expected him to be something specific. If he didn't meet what they wanted, he thought they'd leave. Maybe if he could be what they expected, he wouldn't be too much or too little. He could be just enough and there would be no transaction in being loved. But, it never did work out that way. It led him here.

He isn't sure he deserves to be who he wants but he does want to try. He wants to try and be whoever he can be. Maybe that's worse but at least he'll be him. He will no longer be a torn painting of something everything thought he was. He will no longer put on a facade to be enough. That's easier said than done but he thinks maybe, just maybe, he can do it in time. He'll destroy every part of himself that has been damaged by broken expectations and be the person he actually wants to be. There will be a home for all of his pieces one day.

"Thanks." Jason nods his head. "So do you, ya know."

"Yeah," You scoff softly.

You aren't so sure you do after everything that's happened. On the one hand, you remained on Jason's side but...you did betray him in a way you aren't so sure you can forgive. On the other hand, you owed some more loyalty to the Titans than you did give them. A part of you thought you would turn on them if it came to it and that is not the person you want to be. But, you aren't sure you're deserving of better anymore. It's a lot to be forgiven for and a lot to forgive yourself for. And you just look at Jason who looks like he might have a little more hope left somewhere in his cracked ribs so maybe you can spare some, too.

"Where ya gonna go then?" You ask with a tender voice, as if stalling so you don't have to say goodbye.

"Safehouse." Jason answers. "One I've been staying at." He explains further. "You?"

"Probably call Molly, she'll be pissed." You laugh softly. "I, uh, I've avoided her, ya know? Just to keep her at a distance after Tim, ya know? But, she'll probably let stay."

Jason's relieved you'll have a place to stay. The whole space thing is the point, but if it came to it, he'd never let you live on the streets again. He has more than one statehouse. Molly would never tell you no though. And he hopes you will be a little more careful living with Molly. You wouldn't want to put Molly in danger and have Molly constantly see you with some sort of injury.

"What's next then?" Jason asks as he takes a single step forward, knowing you can only stall for so long.

"Keep this up, I guess." You laugh softly. "I don't know. Come up with a plan. You?"

"Yeah." Jason chuckles softly. "Think I'm gonna keep doing this, work from the top and try to control it. Don't know how much Bruce is gonna like it." A devilish grin puls at Jason's lips.

"He'll probably just be happy to have you alive." You answer honestly.

"Yeah..." Jason's voice goes quiet, not convinced. "You should, uh, you should go back in there though." Jason swallows a lump forming in his throat.

The air feels heavy and thick, stale and bitter. It's like it doesn't want to flow into your lungs with the request. Stalling is just making it harder, you can see it in the way his eyes reflect and the very hint of the tip of his nose turning red. It's not from the cold.

"This is really it, huh?" Your voice quivers with the question.

Jason nods sadly. "Yeah..." His voice is quiet and filled with guilt. Jason almost backtracks but that's not the right thing to do. So, instead, he stays honest. "Gonna miss you."

"Gonna miss you, too." You say quietly. "Just, uh, we'll be in the same city so we just...meet again later." You nod softly, almost trying to convince yourself more than Jason.

Jason nods back quickly. "Yeah, exactly. And we have Molly anyway, she'll never keep us apart." Jason laughs softly.

"You're right." You laugh back. "Be careful, Jay." You close more of the distance between you, offering your hand to him.

It is bitter. It is hard and it is sad. You both might convince yourselves it's for the best but that doesn't make this any less painful. You trust each other more than anyone in the world and you have given each other every piece of yourselves. To see the other one go in another direction feels like you're losing a piece of your own hearts. But this is something you have to do, for yourselves and each other.

"Do you want to leave this on a handshake?" Jason quips back, not wanting to leave this so sad. That was never you anyway.

"No." You laugh as you look down to your open hand before you drop it.

Leaving it on a handshake feels permanent and that is not what either of you want. Maybe time will pass and it'll be hard to come together. But maybe in that time, you'll eventually find yourselves clawing your way back to each other. You both are so positive your hearts will only ever beat for each other as if they are beacons home. You both swear this cannot be the end of you so a handshake won't work.

Jason closes the rest of the distance between you, his hands coming up to your cheeks before his lips press against yours. It's different than it was at the safehouse. It's not heated or desperate. It's not as if you both are chasing something you'll never catch up to. It is tender and soft, deep and passionate. Your hands go to his sides while Jason's thumbs rub over your cheeks. You both take the time to just savor this for all that is worth. It has to be worth something. It just has to.

Jason pulls away first, his forehead coming to yours and he doesn't dare to open his eyes, knowing the second he does, he has to leave. Jason will have to walk away from the one person who showed what unconditional love really is. He'll have to walk away so he savors it for all that he can. You sniffle against him, keeping your eyes closed and Jason knows it's time.

He pulls away just enough, pressing a kiss to your forehead as his hands trail down your neck, to your arms, and then to your hips. Before he can say another word, you pull him for a hug and his arms entirely engulf you. You think you'll never feel this warm again but you hope he'll be happy. You only hope he'll be okay. Jason Todd deserves to be happy no matter what the cost. You press a kiss to his cheek and it's you that pulls away first because you think if Jason does it, he'll always question if it were the right decision. You do it so he doesn't have to.

His eyes are red and watery but there's a firmness, a certainty, over his features. And then he nods.

"I love you." Jason says it first this time and it nearly sends you into a fit of broken sobs.

"I love you, too." You back away from him and think you might get hypothermia in seconds. "See you later, yeah?" You ask.

"'Course, can't get rid of me that easy, babe." Jason tries to lighten it but he's missing the same snark he should have. You offer a soft smile before Jason turns to walk away, only to turn around again. "Keep the necklace, by the way." Jason forces one of his cheeky smirks onto his lips. "Still always come to find you if you need me to." The smirk falls into something sweet and soft.

"You can always come find me." You nod back but this time, you manage a smile. "You and me." You shrug softly.

"You and me." Jason offers you one reassuring nod as his heart feels like it's just fallen out of his ribcage and then he turns around and makes his way down the driveway.

The next two days leave everyone starting to clean up the mess that was left in the wake of Crane's reign of Gotham. The Titans and you have taken over the manor again, getting everything clean and back to how it was before Crane took over. Jason has been at his safehouse, getting everything he needs to make it feel more like a home rather than a rundown and empty building. But after two days, the Titans are ready to leave which leaves Dick to say goodbye to Bruce. That's when Jason walks in, figuring it's his turn to have a conversation with him now that he's finally back.

Jason finds himself going back to his old room while Dick and Bruce finish up their talk. The hubcaps he stole from the Batmobile lay on his old dresser and he finds himself thinking about it. That night. He remembers the day Bruce told him about Robin and offered him the position if he were willing to train for it. It was hard and it sucked but the day Bruce gave him that suit, Jason swore it was the greatest day of his life. He remembers how happy he was as if he had finally found his purpose in this world. Not one single part of him thought he would be here today. He never thought he would have died and betrayed the people he loved. He never thought things would get here with Bruce. It was so happy and fulfilling and now it's...tarnished. Broken and shattered. He wonders what his old self would think of him now.

Bruce walks in a few minutes later, gaining Jason's attention.

"Coming here wasn't my idea." Jason immediately defends himself as he turns around to face Bruce, hoping Bruce believes him.

There's a long pause as Bruce puts his hands in his pockets. "Can you forgive me?" Bruce asks.

It is agonizing with Bruce asking. It's something Jason didn't expect, not from Bruce. A part of him, wants to ask for what? Jason can see some of the wrong Bruce did that did not help him. Some of those things did contribute to him dying and working with Crane. But, the way Jason sees it, Bruce isn't the one who needs forgiving.

Jason leans against the dressing, stuffing his own hands in his pocket before he nods softly. "But you can't forgive me." Jason shakes his head.

Bruce shakes his head back, looking to the ground. "There was a time when that would have been true, Jason, but..." Bruce shakes his head as he pauses before he looks back to Jason. "We've all grown and crossed lines, starting with me."

Bruce crossed the one line he swore he would never cross and Jason crossed it, too. He does not want to lose his son over this whole thing. Bruce knows he has a lot to make up for, thinking maybe he should have listened to what Dick was trying to explain to him since leaving. It has to start somewhere and Bruce is willing to start here. He forgives Jason for everything, no question or doubt in his mind.

"I did things I can't come back from." Jason shakes his head.

Jason knows Bruce's line. Bruce killed the fucking Joker which basically every single person in Gotham agrees was the right decision. Jason did not kill the Joker. It's different. Jason turned on Dick, Bruce's other son. This whole thing is different than what Bruce did. Jason can't erase any of it no matter how badly he wants to. The drug and the killing of his friend, the betrayal and injuries he's caused are things he can't come back from. He did horrible and unforgivable things. He can't go back and change it. He needs to just find a way to live with them now.

"Did you want to come back?" Bruce asks.

Jason looks around his room before pushing off of the dresser. "Here?" He questions as he closes some of the distance between him and Bruce, leaving a few feet between them. "No." Jason's voice is honest and soft. Jason looks to the ground. "That life is over." He says before looking back to Bruce.

Bruce lets out a sigh of understanding. "What life is next?"

"I don't know." Jason answers honestly.

"The fear that you felt, I refused to see it because it's something that you and I share." Bruce explains quietly as he gestures softly between the two of them. "It held its weight over us. But fear is a bad mentor. I wish I had had the strength to help you face yours." Bruce is quiet but honest and this is the deepest conversation they've ever had.

Jason has held resentment for Bruce but...this conversation is changing that, it's just making him feel more guilty over it. Bruce doesn't admit that he's wrong often. Part of that is Bruce is very rarely ever wrong anyway but even then, it's hard for him to admit fault. It means a lot to Jason that Bruce is taking some of the accountability for it even if Jason doesn't blame him. Dick and you were right, Bruce actually does care.

Jason looks to the ground. "When you killed the Joker, did you do that for me?" Jason asks as he looks back to Bruce.

Bruce pauses for a few seconds before he nods his head. "Yes." He answers simply. "I did."

It's all Jason needed to hear. He doesn't know what this means for them but...he'll never be able to express what it means to him for Bruce to have actually done that. For him. Before coming here, he wasn't sure what he wanted from the conversation or what to expect but it wasn't this. It's better. Jason has confirmation that he is important to Bruce, not as Robin but as Jason Todd.

"Thank you." Jason states, his words firm but tender before he walks past Bruce and leaves the room, leaving the manor.

You and the rest of the Titans are at the hangar, waiting for Dick. You might not be going with, but you're here to say goodbye and Tim is here. Tim has since told you about the whole bridge dream thing where he met Donna and Hank. Hank sacrificed himself so him and Donna could come back. It all sounded completely insane but you aren't going to argue with Tim over that. You're just happy to have them both back and alive.

"He said ten o'clock. He did say ten o'clock, right?" Kory asks, pacing near Conner.

"He said ten." Conner confirms, holding the strap of his backpack over his shoulder.

"He'll get here...eventually." Rachel laughs softly. "He always does." Rachel finishes just as they all hear honking and turn to see an RV pulling into the lane.

"Hey, did someone order a bus?" Gar questions.

The bus pulls right open to the opening of the hangar where Dick and Donna are seated in their seats. You stifle a laugh and right about now, you're pretty glad you're not going with them. Sitting in an RV with the Titans for over three days with no way to escape, does not sound fun. Though, you think they'll have a great time.

Donna and Dick get out of the bus, Dick looking very pleased with himself as he faces the rest of the Titans.

"Hey, Dick, uh, what is that?" Rachel questions as her arms are crossed over her chest.

"That's an RV." Dick states, pointing a finger back at the door with genuine happiness in his voice. "I figured it would be way more fun than taking Bruce's jet."

Everyone turns to look at the joy that could have been. You finally break, letting out a quick laugh as you shake your head. You can confirm the jet is way more fun and it's faster. But you aren't going to tell Kory that.

"Why would that be more fun?" Kory asks as if she's going to pass out.

"Roadtrip!" Gar says quickly before he turns to you. "I'm gonna..." Gar points to the RV with a large smile.

"Have fun." You laugh softly before you hug quickly. "Lemme know how Metropolis is! And fill be in on all things Superman, he's actually cool." You beam as Gar laughs and promises to let you know everything before he darts over to the RV and rushes right inside.

"Right because who would want to fly in the batjet?" Rachel quips as she makes her way to the RV.

"Exactly." Dick states, picking up some of the bags to load them up.

You stand back, watching Rachel and Gar go onto the bus. Donna and Tim are saying their goodbyes to Conner just as Blackfire drives up to the hangar, leaving Kory to say her goodbye. Dick starts loading bags into the storage compartments of the RV so you pick up one Gar left behind and bring it over.

"Not mine." You state quickly as Dick takes it from you.

"Are you sure want to stay here? Plenty of room." Dick offers kindly.

You look to the giant RV and then back to Dick. "Yeah...I think all of Gotham can see that." You quip back before letting out a soft laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure." You nod with confidence, sure of your decision. "Thanks, though."

"Jason?" Dick asks, mostly just to check this isn't about him though this time if it were, he'd entirely understand.

You shake your head. "No. We, uh, we are not speaking. We are giving each other space after everything that's happened." You answer simply. "It's home, like I said. And now I have Molly who will not shut up about me needing eyes in the sky like a Ned Leeds or Ganke." You mutter earning a questionable look from Dick. "Spider-Man thing, ask Gar." You laugh. "I have her and uh, yeah. I don't know. I just want to stay here and do my own thing." You shrug as a soft smile tugs at your lips.

"Good." Dick nods with a proud smile. "But if you change your mind or you ever need anything, we're a phone call away." Dick offers you a smile, something you don't know if you'll ever get used to. You're so used to fighting with him.

"Of course." You laugh. "I plan to harass you still." You beam up at him.

"Thanks." Dick deadpans with sarcasm.

"Thanks again though for..." You gesture broadly. "And not killing Jason. Seriously, Dick, I owe you a lot for the last couple of weeks for shit I did and the hell I gave you. So, thank you. I will deny it, but you are very good at this shit. And I'm gonna miss all of you a lot."

"Thank you." Dick says with honesty. "We'll all miss you, too." Dick nods down at her.

It's sad for him to say goodbye but he's very proud. A little worried because it's you but he's proud. Looking back at your first day at the tower to now, he's impressed and happy with how far you've come. It might have gotten messy but you never wavered. Jason died and that was horrible for you and it changed things. Dick saw that same thing in himself when his parents died. Then, you turn around and refuse to compromise your own morals even if that means making things harder on yourself. And you refuse to quit even when maybe you should. He thinks you'll do just fine no matter where you are.

You smile softly before closing the distance between you and hugging Dick softly. Once you let go, you head back over to your place inside the hangar with Tim and Donna. The three of you watch as the Titans pile into the RV, Tim looking defeated and saddened. Tim offers them a sad wave.

"For what it's worth," Donna says softly as she rubs Tim's back. "I think you would have made a pretty decent Robin."

"You would have." You add in, feeling bad for him.

It's as if he's watching all his hopes and dreams about to drive away. But then, Dick looks back at all of you, tossing his backpack onto his back.

"You coming?" Dick asks, his eyes right on Tim.

Tim's eyes nearly shoot out of his head as a smile splits his face. "Are you serious?" Tim asks.

"The question is: are you?" Dick asks back. "I mean you got some nice moves but you're gonna need proper training...if you're up for it."

Tim looks between the three of you with a smile that will likely be plastered across his face for the rest of his life.

"Go." You encourage him. As much as you don't want to see another friend join the whole vigilante thing, it's something Tim really wants and you do think he'll be a great Robin. He deserves the chance and it is a little funny to you that Dick is still plucking people off the street to join the Titans. Like father like son. "I'll look after your parents." You assure him before Tim is quick to skip over to the RV and dart inside before Dick can change his mind.

The three of you watch them finish getting onto the RV and unlike when you left San Francisco, this feels different. It felt...sadder last time like maybe it wasn't time for you to go. It wasn't time for you to leave the new family you had been brought into. You felt hopeful but sad where this time, there is still sadness but it's filled with hope. It is up to you to determine the life you want to live. It's up to you if you want to go back to the Titans and if not, that's okay because they're your family. It's up to you if you want to be Bluejay. You don't have to live with Bruce or Jason. You can just...be you. In Gotham, just as you were before. You'll have her best friend at your side and if you're lucky, maybe one day you'll have Jason, too. But, until then, you just get to exist with hope-filled hands.

prev. chapter

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

A/n: I can't believe I finally finished book 2!! I was really pushing at the end there lmao I love season 3 but it took so much out of me lol So, thank you to all of you who kept reading and big thank you to anyone who's commented and/or reblogged!! I SWEAR comments have always meant so much to me and make me want to finish lol

So with that said, book 3 will be the last book and I don't think it will be as long as 1 and 2?? But I am really excited for it!! I have a lot planned and season 4 episode 11 is canon so you'll have that to look forward to!! I've got 3 chapters already done. I'll have more info on it later with a posting date!! It won't be long between this chapter and book 3, promise!! Thank you guys so much!! 😭😭😭

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@logangarfield

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #titans fanfic #titans fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #petrichor

[ugh-yoongi]

fic where yoongi says exactly what he means all the time (ie - i have a massive crush on you) and reader thinks “no one is that direct” and doesn’t believe anything he says because i love miscommunication in fics but YOONGI SURE AS SHIT DOESNT

you know why

hello my beloved birthday-having friend <3 hope you enjoy.

fun fact: this is the yoongi bee dressed up as the night she got drunk as fuck and spent an hour doing a powerpoint presentation on bts kinks. don't we love that for her :)

direct

pairing: yoongi x gn!reader genre: college au, strangers to friends to lovers; fluff warnings: yoongi is an implied fuckboy, brief mention of blood, very direct communication, cigarettes, swearing, a kiss. rating: e for everyone wordcount: 700

You meet Min Yoongi in your chemistry lab.

You meet Min Yoongi when he’s half asleep and wearing a permanent scowl. Looks like he’s just rolled out of bed, and you sneak a glance at his shoes to confirm. Yeah, two different ones, just as you’d suspected. You’ve met this brand of academically-declined fuckboy before and it’s never ended well for you, so you breathe out a sigh of relief when he ducks into a row towards the back.

Then your instructor tells you to pair off, that whoever you choose is who you’ll be stuck with for the rest of the semester, and no one else must want to work with Min Yoongi, either, because he’s the only person left. He blinks half-lidded eyes at you—slowly, like a cat—and says, “Fine by me. You’re who I wanted to partner with, anyway.”

And you scoff. Min Yoongi didn’t even bother to buy the textbook, and you’re at your seat with an arrangement of notecards and highlighters and a stack of notes you’d taken over the weekend just because you were bored and wanted to get a head start. “Yeah, I’m sure I was.”

You’re dumb enough to refer to Min Yoongi as a friend five months later.

It’s a Friday night. Your roommate is god-knows-where, probably getting railed within an inch of their life at some party. Good for them. At least someone around here is taking advantage of their college years instead of wasting away on a threadbare thrift shop couch, a magical girl anime playing on your laptop; the one you watch only when you’re alone, because it’s too embarrassing otherwise.

Then there’s a knock at the door.

Min Yoongi is on the other side with a black eye and a busted lip. Refuses to meet your eye. Says, “I didn’t know where else to go,” even though he’s got a posse that’d put small armies to shame.

You roll your eyes. “You don’t need to bullshit me to get my attention.”

He smiles at that. “Why do you always think I’m bullshitting you?”

“Because you’re a sewer king, Min Yoongi.” Then you sigh, because couldn’t Yoongi have pulled this stunt when you were showered and wearing clean clothes? “Fine, get in here. But I’m not doing this shit again.”

Yoongi always smells like smoke and petrichor and trouble, and it’s the same when he breezes past you this time, too. “Thanks, doll. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

This fucking guy, you think. “Yeah,” you intone, “what are friends for, huh?”

You become absolutely certain that Min Yoongi is full of shit two years later.

“You’re full of shit,” you tell him, watching as he flicks the ashes of his cigarette onto the hood of his beat-to-hell car.

“Don’t you think this is getting a little old?”

“Don’t you think you’re too old to act like this?”

“Who’s acting?” Sticks the cigarette between his lips and takes a drag. Blows the smoke out, waves it away from you.

“You are,” you insist. “No one on earth is this honest. Especially not you. Especially not about something like this.”

Yoongi groans. Tosses the butt onto the pavement and stomps on it. “You want me to prove it?”

You curse the way your heartbeat hastens. How embarrassing that you’re falling for this. That all Yoongi has to do is sell you some kinda line about being in love with you for all your good sense to crumble at your feet. “You’re not in love with me,” you argue. More like you insist.

“Says who?” he fires back, inching closer. Smells like smoke again—nicotine and a desperate kind of hope and bad ideas that might not be all that bad. “Says you, who doesn’t believe a fucking thing I say?”

“That’s not—”

He stands between your spread things. Places two fingers beneath your chin and forces you to look at him. “I’ve never lied to you, doll. Not once.”

“Bullshit,” you answer, your voice diminished to a pathetic hush, but there’s no heat in it. “Fine. Prove it, then.”

You become absolutely certain that you don’t know a goddamn thing when Min Yoongi presses his lips to yours.

#beeday drabbles #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi imagine #yoongi fluff #yoongi drabble #yoongi fanfic #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts drabble #jewel answers #jewel writes

[thatonegenshinsimp]

Comfort (Alhaitham x reader)

Notes: I’m not dead, surprisingly enough. Enjoy this little thing I made~

Masterlist

Warnings: none

Alhaitham had been in the desert for a week now, having had to suffer from the sandstorms, harsh winds, boiling heatwaves, and sand getting into everything he owned for seven long, infinitesimal days. All he could think of was coming home and resting in your arms for the next eternity. His feet somehow carried him from Aaru Village to Sumeru City, with each step more tiring as he kept walking, until he had finally dragged himself to the entrance to his house. He dug through his pocket and found what he was looking for: his house key. He fitted the smooth gold key into the lock on his front door, turning it and pushing the door open. He closed it behind him as the scent of petrichor and the sound of humming graced his nose and ears. He closed his teal eyes and breathed it in, sighing as the realization dawned on him fully.

He was finally home.

You had decided to make some of your favorite food tonight when you heard the front door open. You knew who it was by the sound of quiet footsteps going up the stairs as your lover went upstairs to take the longest shower of his life. You giggled to yourself, continuing to hum a song you’d been taught when you were younger as you continued making dinner. You made sure there was enough for both of you before turning off the stove and grabbing two plates from the cabinet. You plated the food and smiled as you heard Alhaitham’s steady footsteps as he descended the stairs. When his tired eyes met yours, a small smile appeared on his face as he walked over to you and pulled you into his arms. You hugged him back, enjoying the much needed feeling of his arms around you. “Welcome back home, ‘Haitham.” You mumbled, reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck. He hummed, as if to tell you he’d heard you, before pulling away slightly and pressing his lips against yours. “Tired?” You asked knowingly, watching as he nodded. “Do you want something to eat?” You asked. He pulled away from you and sighed, nodding softly.

You handed him his plate and some utensils, sitting beside him at the table as he started to eat. He hummed at the taste, savoring the flavor, and before long, he’d finished the entire plate. He sat beside you until you finished eating, and took the plates and utensils to the sink to wash them. You helped him, drying and putting them away once you were done. “I just need to grab a quick shower, and then I’ll join you in bed.” You told him, walking upstairs with him in tow.

He waited until you were done in the shower and watched as you walked back into the bedroom in your pajamas. You laid down beside him and giggled softly as he reached out and gently pulled you closer under the cool dark green bedcovers and white silk sheets of your shared bed. Alhaitham wrapped his arms around you once more and rested his head on top of yours, smiling softly as he kissed the top of your head. You noticed that he was still quite tense, and reached upwards, running your fingers through his soft ash gray hair. He relaxed, leaning into your touch as he sighed deeply, a sense of overwhelming relief washing over his body. You urged him to lay on his stomach, and massaged his shoulders gently, before moving on to his back. You massaged the knots out of his tense muscles, and pulled away once you were done. He laid down with you again, this time burying his face in your neck. Knowing he was still awake, you spoke. “Do you want to hear about my week?” You asked, feeling his hair brush against the crook of your neck as he nodded softly. “Well, I got to visit Collei and Tighnari in Ghandarvaville, they said that they’d love it if you’d join us at Lambad’s Tavern sometime for drinks and cards. Me and Kaveh also cleaned the house together while you were gone, so maybe try to be a little nicer to him tomorrow? I know you don’t really hate him, since he’s been there for you since before I got to the Akademiya. I also reorganized the library, but I organized it to where it’s alphabetical, now, so you can find books more easily.” You said. You were about to say more when you realized that Alhaitham’s breathing had slowed. It was when you looked down that your suspicions had been confirmed, and Alhaitham was asleep. You smiled, turning out the lamp on your bedside. “Goodnight, ‘Haitham, I love you.” You whispered, knowing in your heart, even as you drifted off to sleep, that he loved you with everything he was, too.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #genshin alhaitham #genshin impact alhaitham

[flxwerydreams]

Take my hand (take my whole life too)

Remus Lupin x GN!Reader (established relationship)

a/n: i fear this one's a drabble.

c/w: none that i can think of.

Sometimes you thought that you and Remus were like two pieces of a puzzle. You wondered quite often about this — if there were other universes — if your souls had lived other lives, had you been with him in those? Had you looked at him, like you do now and wondered if the way his scars stretched when he smiled could be considered art? You hoped he didn’t have scars in those lives. Not because they disgusted you but because the mere idea of your sweet boy being in pain made your heart weep. He was so beautiful. Had you, in another life, held his hand, and touched his lips and kissed him until you could only think about your bodies fusing together into one? Had you ever loved him, like you do now? It seemed impossible. Your heart felt heavy with the weight of it — the love you felt for him. Was it possible to love with that rawness, in every lifetime, in every universe? He was your universe. He was the one holding up the world. He was the first summer breeze that brought with itself a relieved sigh. He was a heavy cloud, he was the petrichor in the air and he was a fragile zephyr lily, blooming with the first rain. You looked at him now, as he sat before you, a hand in yours and the other holding up Austen’s Emma. His hair, mussed from leaning against the back of the couch, his lips moving softly as he read the words to you, his voice a gentle murmur. A fleeting thought crossed your mind — you wondered if he knew how far gone for him you were. You wondered if he knew that in this universe, and every other one, you would let him take your hand once, twice, a thousand times. You would let him take your whole life too. You were his, forever, and you only hoped he would want to be yours too — forever.

i hope you enjoyed it! leave a comment :)

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x gn!reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x self insert #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin established relationship #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #marauders #marauders fanfiction #the marauders #marauders fandom #marauders era #hp marauders #marauders x reader

[thefallennightmare]

Arranged-thirteen

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: language, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death.

Summary: Reader would do anything to make her parents happy and that included agreeing to an arranged marriage. She never expected it to be to one of New York's most feared Mob Boss: Bucky Barnes. He is anything but loving towards Reader however when her parents are mysteriously killed, Bucky makes it his mission to find out who were at fault. And in the process, ends up coming close to losing Reader.

Authors Note: Okay so I really hope I have everyone tagged that has asked, it's been insane how many of you love this series. Tags for this will be open, just shoot me a message or comment if you're interested!

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Arranged Masterlist

The music continued to play throughout our room and the rain had settled as Bucky and I laid in bed together, sheets covering our naked forms. My head was buried deep into the pillow, wishing sleep would overtake, and Bucky was propped up on his elbow, vibranium fingers grazing over my bare back. He looked down at me, adoration in his blue iris’s and I gave him a sleepy smile. 

“Tired?” He questioned. 

I nodded. “I wish we could stay here the rest of the night.” 

Bucky placed a kiss on my spine. “Me too, doll. But we have to show up tonight.” 

“This is stupid,” I groaned while snuggling deeper into his chest. 

The hairs that peppered across it tickled my cheek and I felt Bucky’s lips ghost along my hairline. His scent engulfed my senses and I smiled at the familiarity that it started to bring. 

Even after our afternoon in bed together, Bucky still smelled like he had just emerged from the shower, a strong smell of fire embers and a very small hint of vanilla. 

“I can’t remember the last time I spent the day relaxing. I haven’t even taken one phone call,” Bucky chuckled. 

I leaned up and placed a kiss onto his chin. “You needed it. You’ve been working every day since I first got here.” 

“Maybe we could take a vacation once everything settles down with work and your parents' case?” Bucky suggested. 

“I would like that. I’ve always wanted to visit the pacific northwest,” I admitted. 

Bucky shook his head with a laugh. “I have my own private jet and can take you anywhere in the world and you want to go there?” 

I nodded, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve had plans to move there after high school but life got busy and before I knew it, ten years later I still haven’t left the state.” 

Bucky pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Wherever you want to go, doll. I’ll take you.” 

I wrapped my arms around him, the heat from his skin warming mine immediately. 

“I think I’ve learned more about you today than in the three weeks since you’ve been here,” Bucky observed. 

“Usually you do get to know each other before you get married,” I joked with a wink. 

“Oh, is that right?” Bucky raised a brow at me. 

He had rolled on top of me and began leaving quick pecks all over my face, causing a school girl giggle to fall from my lips. 

This whole day was perfect. It didn’t feel like Bucky and I were married only for a few weeks. It felt as if we had known each other for years with how comfortable I found myself becoming around him. There was a moment earlier today where I looked at him and for a brief second, I forgot that he was a mob boss, feared by many. Then the reality set in when someone from his laboratory called, which Bucky quickly ignored. 

A knock at the door halted Bucky’s kisses and my giggles, him remaining on top of me still. 

“Is this important?!” He yelled to whoever was on the other side of the door. 

“Are ya decent in there?” 

Steve. 

Bucky quickly tossed me one of his shirts and a pair of underwear. I quickly got dressed while he slipped into a pair of sweatpants. 

“Come in!” He yelled. 

I was back under the covers, hoping that Steve was here to tell us that the party was canceled so we could stay home. 

A quick glance between the two of us, Steve merely smirked for a moment, with a raised brow. “Easy afternoon, huh?” 

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky responded. 

“Make me, jerk,” Steve said with a snort. 

I smiled at the banter between the two childhood friends and lounged deeper into the bed. 

“Did you need something, Steve or were you trying to sneak a peek?” I jeered. 

There was a faint blush to his cheeks but it was gone in a flash before looking at Bucky with a serious gaze. 

“There was a problem at the lab. Jason.” 

Bucky cursed while shaking his head. “This kid is going to fucking kill me.” 

He stood and went to walk into our closet but I grasped his hand. “What happened to no work today?” 

Bucky sighed with a disappointed look in his eye. “I’m sorry, doll. This can’t wait.” 

“Promise to be back before we have to go?” I asked. 

He shrugged. “I’ll try. I’ll call you if anything changes.” 

With a quick kiss to my cheek, I watched Bucky disappear into the closet to get dressed. I looked at Steve and raised a brow. 

“No chance you’ll let me tag along, huh?” I suggested. 

Steve gave a small smile. “Not this time, Y/N.” 

His smile, however, did nothing to ease my worries as I saw Bucky open up the safe in the closet and placed a gun that he grabbed into the waistline of his dress pants. 

I gave my driver a quick smile of thanks before shutting the door behind me, eyes glancing up towards the mansion in front of me. Bucky’s mansion was big but Starks was a tad bit bigger. 

With another quick look at my phone, I sighed with disappointment from no new message from Bucky. He had been gone for hours, meaning I had to come to this party by myself where I wouldn’t know anyone. Not the ideal way I wanted to spend the night. 

My mind kept thinking of what Bucky was doing and why he felt like he needed to bring a gun with him. For all I knew, he could have been carrying one on him every time he went out and didn’t notice. 

Where are you?

My fingers hastily typed into the phone and walked into the house, silently hoping he was already here. The place was filled with people dancing, drinking, or socializing and I could feel my anxiety weigh me down. 

“You look absolutely breathtaking.” 

I spun on my heels and felt all of my worries vanish the second Bucky’s eyes met  mine. A large breath fell from my lips. 

“Hi, you clean up pretty well yourself.” I winked and placed a kiss on his cheek. 

“Have you been waiting long?” Bucky questioned while allowing me to wrap my arm with his. 

“No, I just got here. How’d everything go at the lab?” 

He simply gave my hand a squeeze. “Everything’s fine.” 

As much as I would have liked to bring up the fact that he brought a gun along with him earlier, I kept my lips shut knowing that now wasn’t the best place to have that conversation. Bucky led me towards the bar where we ordered a few drinks and I used that time to gaze around the room. I saw Sam standing in one corner and Steve on another, their own gazes taking in every inch of the room. 

“I’m assuming they’re not here for pleasure?” I asked Bucky. 

He nodded after taking a drink. “Something’s not right about this gala. Why would Stark throw this for us when we barely know one another?” 

“I thought he’s interested in whatever your lab is creating?” 

Bucky snickered. “The only thing Stark is interested in is money.” 

The two of us stayed at our post at the bar, his vibranium hand glued to my lower back in a safety sort of way. Whatever worried him about tonight made Bucky on edge, even more so than he usually was. But that didn’t stop him from whispering promises of what he had planned for us once we were home. My cheeks flushed with red while my stomach flipped, the butterflies fluttering to life. 

“Mr. Barnes?” 

Bucky reluctantly pulled his mouth away from the small mark he was leaving on the crook of my neck and nodded towards a petite redhead who snuck up behind us. 

“Natasha,” he gave her a small smile. 

“You two know each other?” I pointed between the two of them. 

“She works for Tony,” Bucky informed, hand still attached to my lower back. 

Natasha tsked. “Are you sure that’s the only reason why we know each other?” 

Jealousy stabbed at my heart the way that Natasha had said that, hinting that they knew each other more than Bucky had led on. My eyes fell and I began stirring the ice in my cup, suddenly feeling out of place next to the two of them. 

“Everything alright?” Bucky asked, lips grazing my ear. 

I shivered at the feeling. 

“Yeah.” I nodded. 

Natasha sighed while clicking her heels on the marble floor below. “Mr. Stark is waiting for you.”

Bucky sighed but evidently nodded. He quickly waved Steve and Sam over. 

“Steve, stay with Y/N. Sam, you’re with me,” he gave the two men their orders. 

Steve was fast to my side as Bucky left a kiss upon my lips. It wasn’t a quick one, either. It was the kind of kiss where your tongues found each other right away and made your head spin with how much passion was put behind it. 

“I won’t be long, doll.” 

My eyes fluttered open and I nodded, watching him walk through a door that was behind the bar, his eyes never leaving me even if Natasha had been leading him through. 

“I take it as things are going well between the two of you?” 

I gave Steve a smile. “Yeah. I didn’t want to admit it at first but maybe this arranged marriage wasn’t as bad as I thought.” 

Steve matched my smile as he leaned against the bar. 

“Can I ask you something?” I questioned him. 

When he nodded, I continued with a deep breath. “Anything going on between Bucky and Natasha? He claims that he only knows her from working with Stark but the feeling in my gut tells me otherwise.” 

Steve hesitated, scratching at the beard on his chin. “She had feelings for him a long time ago but Bucky never felt the same.” 

I could tell in the way that Steve’s breath hitched in his throat that he wasn’t telling the complete truth but I let it go, simply taking a large gulp of my drink. 

“Whatever you say, Rogers.” I grumbled. 

He sighed and was ready to say something else but we were interrupted by another man slinking up towards the bar and stood a bit too close to my liking. 

“Y/N, I must say you look so good tonight.” 

My eyes rolled into the back of my head and I let myself step closer towards Steve, who had no issues with placing an arm in front of me. 

“What are you doing here, John?” I asked. 

He shrugged. “I’m here to celebrate the newlyweds. Where is your husband anyway? Can’t even show up to his own party?” 

“I’d suggest you leave now Walker.” Steve threatened. 

I placed a gentle hand on Steve’s arm to hold him at bay. The last thing I needed was to make a scene in front of everyone here. 

“John, there is no reason for you to be here. Please leave.” 

He ignored me, still keeping his hard gaze on Steve and smirked. “It must be so easy for the two of you. Having all that serum running through your veins?” 

I blinked, confused, and felt Steve tense under my touch. 

“Serum? What are you talking about?” 

John chuckled and finally tore his gaze away from Steve. “They didn’t tell you what they’re into? What they've been concocting in that lab?” 

“Steve, what is he talking about?” My voice faltered. 

Steve cursed and began leading me away from John. However, he was a tad faster than Steve and managed to side step us, blocking our path out. 

“They’re creating this super soldier serum so they can have their own army. They even injected themselves with it,” John informed while reaching for me. “It’s not safe for you to be with them, Y/N.” 

My head began to spin at this new information. Serum? Super soldiers? Bucky and Steve were these things? 

I would have thought John had been lying but suddenly it clicked of what I saw that morning in Bucky’s office. A briefcase full of blue liquid. I thought it had been drugs and now, I wasn’t too sure what was worse. 

My feet stumbled and when John reached for me once more, I smacked his hands away. 

“Leave me alone,” I snapped. 

“I can keep you safe, sweetheart.” John pleaded. 

His hands grasped my wrist and yanked me towards him causing me to yell out in pain from how hard he pulled. 

“Don’t you fucking touch me!” 

My voice seethed while I pushed him hard against his chest, his grip faltering. I looked for a way out, needing to get far away from here. My chest began to constrict, a pain shot through my body and I did my best to even my breathing. 

John tried to reach for me once more.

“Step back,” Steve threatened him and stood between the two of us. 

The words kept replaying in my mind, like a broken tape player stuck on a forever loop. 

Super soldier. Super soldier. Super soldier.

“Fuck, I need to get out of here.” I groaned while squeezing my eyes shut. 

Steve was quick to grab my hips from behind and led me through the crowd of people. There was a white noise in my ears, ringing so loud, that I hadn't heard Tony up on stage introducing the guest of honor. I also hadn’t heard Bucky calling my name, wondering why I was being rushed out of the house. 

#mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes and reader #mob!bucky barnes x yn #mob!bucky barnes and yn #mob!bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes and reader #sebastian stan

[holylulusworld]

Shy guy (4)

Summary: You grew up together. Bucky is the one. He’s just too shy to make a move.

Pairing: Shy!Bucky Barnes x Fratgirl!Reader

Sidepairing (friendship): Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: a kiss between Steve & Bucky (not reader), mentions of sex (Steve), the reader being a good friend, teasing, banter, friendship

Inspired by this ask: Shy guy ask and @dawn-petrichor-world​ made me do it…The idea for the kiss came from her too. 😊

Shy guy (3) - Past

Shy guy masterlist

Two years later, age of sixteen…

Your friendship with Bucky wasn’t the same after what happened with John Walker. You pulled away ever so often when Bucky invited other people to his birthday party or movie nights.

It wasn’t unusual for people to invite other people to a party, but it always left a bitter taste on your tongue remembering what happened because Bucky wanted to spend time with John Walker.

You were still friends, and you still felt deeply for Bucky, but Steve turned out to be a better friend. He was less impressed by other people trying to join your little clique. 

Steve was still a heartbreaker, and notorious womanizer, but at the same time, he was the best friend you could wish for.

One call and Steve Rogers stood in front of your door, asking who you wanted him to beat into a pulp.

He didn’t want Bucky and you not to be friends, but at the same time, he enjoyed being your best friend again.

Movie nights were special to you and your friends. Sadly, you couldn’t join the latest movie night, and this is how Steve and Bucky ended up at Steve’s place, fighting over the movie they wanted to watch. 

“So, any girls you dated lately?” Steve tried to tease his friend. He knew Bucky had never had a date with a girl before. 

“No,” Bucky grunted and glared at Steve. “I’m not a serial lady-killer like you. I’m waiting for the right girl.”

“Did you ever kiss a girl?” Steve pressed on. 

“I won’t tell you,” Bucky sighed, ashamed he still didn’t find the guts to finally ask you on a date.   

“How do you wanna know you are into girls if you never kissed one or asked a girl out?” 

Bucky frowned deeply. “What’s that supposed to mean? The way you treat girls tells me you can’t be into them either. You treat every girl you date like shit.”

“What?” That made Steve rethink his whole dating history. “No…I mean…I’m totally into girls!”

“Are you sure?” Bucky grinned as his friends suddenly looked like a confused puppy. “If you like them so much, why do you always break up with them after one date?”

“Hmm…” Steve nodded. “That’s nonsense! I like girls!”

“How do you wanna know? Maybe you are into guys and don’t even know it!” The brunette argued. If Steve wanted to mess with him for being shy around girls, he’d pay him back.

“How do want me to find out?” Steve bit back. “I’m pretty sure that I like girls.”

“How shall I know?” Bucky muttered.

“Hey, guys!” You almost ripped the door open to scare your friends. “I’m back and made it to movie night!” You stopped in your tracks as your friends looked like you caught them jerking off or something. “Okay, what did you do?”

Both refused to look you in the eyes. You had to annoy them for almost half an hour before they told you about their discussion.

“Easy!” You exclaimed. “I’ll kiss Bucky, and then Bucky will kiss you!” 

They stared at you, wide-eyed and scared. “What?” They both hiccupped. “NO!”

“Oh yeah!” You nodded and already crawled onto Bucky’s lap. If he was too shy to make a move, you’d take matters into your own hands. “Relax, Buck. It’s only a kiss.”

“Only a kiss…right,” he stammered. Bucky didn’t want you to know it would be his first real kiss with a girl. 

“We kissed before, on the mouth,” you cupped his face and brushed your nose against his. “I hope you brushed your teeth.” You teased before going for gold. Bucky gasped when you claimed his lips, gentle yet determined to make him see he only wants to kiss you from now on. “There, you go, Bucky.”

“I—” Steve cleared his throat. “Uh-will you kiss me too, Y/N?”

“Nah, you had your lips on every girl in our school!” You wrinkled your nose. “I won’t kiss you. You’re like a brother to me. That’s odd!”

“And?” Steve asked Bucky. 

“It was…good.” He grumbled and shifted on the couch. “I think I’m into girls.”

“You can’t be sure,” you hopped off his lap and winked at Steve. “Now, kiss him, Stevie. I wanna know if you can do it better! But remember, no tongue!”

“Tongue?” Bucky shrieked when Steve sat next to him. Your friend never was one to back down. You challenged him so he’d kiss Bucky to prove a point.

“Relax, I’m a good kisser,” Steve cupped Bucky’s face, unsure if he should kiss him or wait for Bucky to take the lead. “Fuck it.” 

You giggled when Steve pressed his lips to Bucky’s. They quickly parted and wrinkled their foreheads before wiping their mouths on their shirt.

“That was—” Steve retched. “I don’t want to kiss you again!”

“Same,” Bucky shuddered. “Y/N is a better kisser.”

You grinned at Bucky’s words. Of course, you were a better kisser. You practiced in front of a mirror, imagining it’s Bucky kissing you back.

“I win,” you sat between your friends and chuckled. “So, are you both into girls?”

“YES!” They hastily said. 

The rest of the night was filled with friendly banter, lots of teasing, and stuffing junk food into your mouth.

Two years later your lives changed again.

The first days at NYU were almost the same as usual. You would spend your time hanging out with Steve, and teasing Bucky after classes, or try to hit it off with the new friends you made. Natasha, Wanda, and Okoye.

Steve and you were still best friends, and Bucky was still too shy to ask you out.

The only difference was you weren’t living at home any longer. You made enough money with your part-time jobs to pay for a small apartment off campus to have some peace and quit once in a while.

“I need to tell you something,” Steve stormed into your small apartment, making you shriek. You gave him a key for emergencies, not to storm into your room when you are chilling on your couch in nothing but your underwear.

“STEVE! We talked about boundaries. I could’ve been naked!”

He shrugged and plopped down on your couch. “I did it!” He grinned from ear to ear. 

“You did what?” You groaned and put the book you tried to read down. “I hope you don’t mean you bought that bike you were talking about!”

“I meant sex, Y/N,” Steve smirked. “Peggy and I made the next step. I know this is sudden, but I think I love her!”

“Whoa!” You jumped off the couch to pace the room. “Steven Grant Rogers!” You looked at him like a strict parent. “I hope you used protecting, young man.”

“Yeah…of course! I’m not stupid, Y/N!”

“Good!” You nodded. “And…uh…I’m so happy you found someone you love, Stevie.” You wrapped your friend in a hug and kissed his cheek. “I hope you were a gentleman too.”

“She kinda took the lead,” he admitted. “I mean…it wasn’t her first time. I wish I was her first, but I wasn’t, and…” Steve nervously babbled. “But I love her, and it’s okay. We can do it for the rest of our lives.”

“Whoa!” You slowly let go of Steve, grabbing his upper arms to get a good look at your friend. “You really are in love!”

“Yeah,” his cheeks turned pink, and it made him look even more adorable. “I am.”

“Yes, it finally happened,” you wrapped your arms around him. “Maybe I can invite the both of you for dinner. I asked Bucky, and the others yesterday. If you want to, you can join us.”

“I’m the last one you ask?” He grunted.

“Babe, you weren’t available. I ended up on voicemail. You should check your messages,” you snickered. “But I get it. Your dick finally got some action, and all your blood ran down your lower half.” 

You patted his back and sighed. If Steve was happy, you’d gladly support him and his blooming relationship. 

Even though, Peggy Carter was the last girl you wanted to be around your friend. She always gave you the stinky eye, and you had no clue why…

“Dinner is ready,” you clapped your hands and looked around your crowded living room. “We’ve got pasta, salad, and vegetarian pizza. There are more than enough snacks too.”

“Where’s Steve?” Okoye asked. You didn’t hear from Steve for the better of a week, and worried about him. He didn’t call you back, but you assumed he was busy with his girlfriend and his art classes.

“He promised he’d be here. Don’t worry. Stevie likes to run late,” you grinned and popped a grape in your mouth. “Go ahead, have some food!”

You walked out of the apartment, closing the door behind you to call Steve again. It wasn’t that you wanted to be the kind of friend getting on Steve’s nerves, but you missed your friend and worried more than you’d like to admit.

“Still no sign?” Bucky followed you outside and glanced at your phone. “Do…do you want me to drive you to the frat house?"

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s just busy with his girlfriend. Peggy is not a big fan of me,” you said and shook your head. 

“Why not?”

Before you could answer, someone walked toward your apartment. It was Steve, looking like someone had kicked him in the guts.

“Stevie?” You ran toward him to wrap him in a hug. “What happened? Is something wrong at the frat house? You can bunker at my place if you want to.”

“It’s not the boys. They are cool,” he sniffled and hid his face in your shoulder. You ran your hand over his head, and down to his shoulder, murmuring soothing words. “She broke things up with me for some other guy. Peggy said she doesn’t love me and that she only wanted to see if I can keep up with my reputation.”

“Oh, Stevie,” you whispered and kissed his cheek. “She’s a stupid bitch and doesn’t deserve my best friend.”

“I liked her so much, and she only wanted me for sex,” he snorted. “Can you imagine, she laughed right in my face when I admitted that she was my first.”

“I’ll kill that bitch,” you wrapped your arms a little tighter around your friend. “Do you want to go for a walk or…”

“Can I have some food? I didn’t eat anything today,” Steve rubbed his face on your shoulder. “You promised pasta and snacks.”

“Sure thing, Stevie.”

Steve spent the evening with you, Bucky, and your new friends. The others went home while Bucky, Steve, and you had a sleepover just like when you were just kids.

“She’s such a bitch,” you gritted your teeth as you had to watch Peggy be all over John Walker. They made out right in front of your friend, and it made you furious. “I’ll pay her back.”

“Forget it,” Steve shrugged. It was a few weeks later, and he slowly got back on his feet. “I got a date with her cousin, Sharon.” He grinned like the devil. “I heard through the grapevine that Sharon and Peggy hate each other. And Sharon is into kinky shit.”

“Steven Grant Rogers,” you slapped his chest. “You sneaky bastard!”

“What? Sharon always had a thing for me, and now that I did it, I feel confident enough to do her good,“ he smirked. “I bet she’s love sucking my—”

You covered his mouth with your hand. “If you mention your dick, I’ll kick your balls. Just be careful and use protection.” 

“Aw, you’re such a good friend,” he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and kissed your cheek. “Like a mom.”

“Dude don’t call me a mom! I’m not ready to settle down and have kids,” you snapped at Steve. “I worry about you, is all.”

“…and I love you for it,” he pecked your cheek. “Please never change, doll. You are one in a million.”

“Can you tell this to Bucky?” You sighed.

“Y/N, if you want to get your hands on our friend Bucky, you must take matters into your own hands. He’s shy, and if you wait for much longer, some other girl will make a move on him. You don’t want him to end up with someone like Peggy, right?”

“No!” You hastily said. “Hmm…take matters into my hands.” You looked at Peggy shamelessly making out with Walker. “I think you are not wrong, Stevie. I should make a move on Bucky…”

Shy guy (5) - Present

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #shy bucky barnes #college au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #Shy guy (4) #steve rogers x best friend reader

[spaceprincessem]

i’m addicted to disastrous thinking | 7.5k buddie fic | ao3 

[or buck and eddie kiss in a photo booth, mutually pine, and finally get together exactly in that order]

“Okay,” Eddie says, eyes so beautifully brown and dark Buck is reminded of soil after it rains, and when he breathes he swears he can almost catch the sweet smell of petrichor, “maybe just a normal smiling one?”

Buck nods, a little unsure of what to do with his hands and arms and body when Eddie swings an arm over Buck’s shoulders, pulling him close. It’s automatic, really, for Buck to snake his around Eddie’s waist, the pads of his fingers pressing into skin where Eddie’s shirt has pulled up. He can see his blush, rosy pink and speckled across his face, and he ducks his head, smiling softly as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.

Click

His head quickly snaps up realizing he hadn’t actually smiled at the camera, but he almost wishes he hadn’t looked at all. The screen is still frozen on their last picture; Buck looking down, blushing and bashful, and Eddie looking at him with the sweetest smile Buck has ever seen on his best friend.

Eddie is looking at him like he’s in love with Buck too.

“I um — I messed up the last picture,” Buck stutters out as a loading screen appears, letting them know their pictures are printing.

“Did you?” Eddie frowns as he looks towards the camera. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

“One more round?” Buck asks hopefully, still intertwined around Eddie. 

He doesn’t want to let go. He wants to hold onto Eddie for as long as he can. He wants to live in this moment and exist in this space where he and Eddie are the only thing that matters. Where Buck can pretend that their stars and planets have aligned in perfect orbit.

“Sure,” Eddie says, eyes twinkling with amusement.

They both lean forward, bumping into each other as they fumble to press the button. Eddie’s forehead hits Buck’s ear and they both kind of half collapse into each other laughing. Buck’s not even sure they’ve managed to start the camera at all. They’re more entangled now and so so close as they sit back up. Both of Buck’s hands are resting on Eddie’s waist, while one of Eddie’s hands lightly grips Buck’s neck. Their laughter quietly dies off as baby blue meets honey brown. Buck tilts his chin slightly up, gaze immediately falling to Eddie’s lips. Eddie’s thumb dips beneath his sweater, sweeping over his skin soothingly.

Click

Buck watches as Eddie’s lips part and his heart beats so hard against his ribcage he’s pretty sure it’s fit to burst any second now just so it can bury itself in the one place it’s always belonged. 

Before he can think to do anything else Eddie’s grip on him tightens for a brief moment and suddenly Eddie is kissing him. It’s a soft, sweet thing, their lips pressing together as their noses brush.

aka the long awaited photo booth fic

read the rest on ao3

tagging those who were interested @alyxmastershipper @sibylsleaves @shortsighted-owl @elvensorceress @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @buddierights @loveyourownsmiilee @mumucow @spotsandsocks @colonoscopys @babytrapperdiaz @cowboy-buddie @ebdaydreamer @the-gayest-wug @thekristen999 @heartbeatdiaz if i forgot you please forgive me my brain is not firing on all cylinders

#buddie #buddie fic #911 #911 fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz

[gimmethatagustd]

venor (6) | kth + jjk

The barista at the university’s café keeps telling Jungkook not to come back, but Jungkook is too busy daydreaming about kissing the beauty marks on his face to be paying attention to his warnings.

○ Pairing: Tiger!Taehyung x Bunny!Jungkook

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Hybrids, predator/prey, college au, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, light angst, eventual smut

○ Word Count: 3,727

○ Warnings: It's what the gworlies call self-lubrication aka slick, how delish

○ Notes: This one is dedicated to @remmykinsff cuz they realized i forgot to delete an old draft from my queue so i ended up posting the wrong fucking thing 😭 Also, I tried so hard not to write too much about the Amarna Period during the 18th Dynasty of Ancient Egypt 💀 It was hard to control myself tbh

○ Post Date: March 11, 2024

○ Masterlist | AO3 Cross-Post

○ What was Jai listening to? The series playlist

Series Masterlist

“Are you sure you don’t want a jacket?” 

Taehyung’s question ends with his lips downturned. He leans against his car while he holds the door open for Jungkook and watches with narrow eyes as Jungkook scoots out of the passenger seat.

“I’m okay! We didn’t park that far from the entrance.” Jungkook’s attempt to look confident by crossing his arms against his chest makes him look even colder.

It’s relatively chilly outside, and despite Taehyung’s pestering, Jungkook hasn’t bothered to dress appropriately for the weather. He doesn’t miss the way Taehyung’s gaze drags over his body, taking inventory of his cropped sweater that stops just before the waistband of his tight, ripped jeans. When Jungkook turns around, he swears he sees Taehyung’s eyes drop to his fluffy white tail poking out of the little hole in his jeans. It almost excites him enough to wiggle, but he holds it in. He can’t possibly embarrass himself before their not -date has even begun.

It’s not really a date if they’re only going to the museum together for a school assignment, Yoongi had pointed out. Suyun said otherwise, but Jungkook isn’t sure if he should get his hopes up.

“Museums are always cold,” Taehyung finally points out before closing the car door behind Jungkook. “I have an extra one in the back.”

“I swear, I’m okay,” Jungkook rushes to shut Taehyung up. He grabs Taehyung’s wrist and tugs. “Let’s go!”

Surprisingly, Taehyung lets Jungkook drag him through the parking lot without fussing. By the time they slip through the museum’s front doors, Jungkook’s hand migrates down to Taehyung’s, their palms pressing together and fingers intertwining.

There aren’t many people lingering in the museum’s lobby, but the few around are mostly prey hybrids. One of them, a mouse hybrid, turns around so sharply to stare at Jungkook and Taehyung that it startles Jungkook into nearly tripping. She doesn’t speak when they walk past her toward the check-in desk, but her nose wiggles and pulls up into a deep scrunch. 

In the still air of the museum and without the outside breeze to muddle smells, even hybrids with weak senses can pick up Taehyung’s scent mingling with Jungkook’s. They bring with them the smell of a warm spring rainstorm, earthy and floral, life-bearing. 

Taehyung doesn’t seem to notice the mouse hybrid’s reaction to them — or he pretends not to, choosing to keep his attention on the task at hand. He had been focused like this on the drive from Jungkook’s dorm to the museum, so quiet that Jungkook had assumed he might be angry with him over them scenting each other. It wasn’t until a Girls’ Generation song came on the radio that Jungkook sang along to that Taehyung’s hard edge melted. 

It was overwhelming to be in such a small space with Taehyung, surrounded by his petrichor scent and distracted by the flick of his tail, which rested on the center console. Jungkook had to stop himself from staring while Taehyung drove, just like he has to stop himself now. 

On the outside, Jungkook is calm as he waits in line to buy their tickets for the Egyptian art exhibit. Internally, he’s freaking out over just how big Taehyung’s hand is. He even lets himself sneak a peek and tries not to burn with shy embarrassment when his heart flutters at how his hand is engulfed by Taehyung’s.

“Bun,” Taehyung calls out, bumping his shoulder against Jungkook’s. The ticket line is moving, and Jungkook isn’t.

He needs to pull himself together.

But first, he needs to pull himself apart from Taehyung.

Letting go of Taehyung’s hand, Jungkook reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. However, he’s too slow, and all he can do is watch as Taehyung slides his credit card to the employee behind the desk in exchange for two rectangular strips of paper.

“You’ll take the elevators to the left up to the third floor. The exhibit will be on your immediate right,” the employee explains, but Jungkook isn’t listening.

“Why did you do that?” Jungkook hisses as Taehyung heads toward the elevators, not even bothering to glance at Jungkook.

“Do what?”

“Pay for both of us!”

“Because I wanted to?” Taehyung shoots his arm out to stop the elevator doors from closing and ushers Jungkook inside.

There isn’t a reasonable rebuttal, so Jungkook glares at him while the elevator beeps as they pass the second floor. They stand on opposite sides, leaning against each wall's handrail. Luckily, the elevator doesn’t stop for anyone else to get on. 

“So pouty,” Taehyung smirks but keeps his eyes on the changing number above the elevator’s doors. “Don’t prey like to be taken care of?”

“No.” 

Jungkook’s answer comes too quickly, and his tone is too petulant. It makes Taehyung laugh, finally bringing his bright gaze to rest on Jungkook’s face.

“Not even little domesticated bunnies like you?” Taehyung teases.

“You’re domesticated, too!”

“Are tigers domesticated?” Taehyung’s boxy grin widens.

At a loss for words, Jungkook follows Taehyung out of the elevator.

As the museum employee said, the entrance to the exhibit Jungkook and Taehyung are looking for is directly to the right of the elevator lobby. Another employee in uniform stands at a small podium in front of the large glass doors to check guests’ tickets. He’s young, likely a college student working a part-time job, with black and orange striped ears poking out of straight black hair.

“Good afternoon,” the tiger hybrid greets lowly. He pauses to look over Taehyung before gazing over Jungkook’s form.

It’s intimidating, standing between two large predators. Jungkook never feels weak, but he feels meek, knowing he is the weakest one here. As usual, this doesn’t deter him. He stands with his head held high and his eyes locked on the employee.

“Have you visited before?” the employee asks Taehyung, who shakes his head. The employee explains the setup of the exhibit and then hands Taehyung a pamphlet about the artwork and a museum map in case they need it.

It shouldn’t bother Jungkook that the employee never speaks to him, but he feels irritation prickle his skin as he walks away. His mood must sour his scent or muddle his expression because Taehyung bumps shoulders with him again once they’re inside the exhibit.

“What’s up, bun? Already tired of being here?” Taehyung folds the pamphlet and map to stick them in the back pocket of his jeans. It’s obvious that he’s been to this museum before; he has only listened to the employees explain everything to be polite.

“That guy didn’t even talk to me. He only talked to you.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Jungkook pouts at Taehyung’s dismissive response. He doesn’t seem to be paying attention to what Jungkook says; instead, he is scrolling on his phone.

“Taehyung.”

“What, did you want him to talk to you?” Looking over, Taehyung gives Jungkook a boxy grin. “Did you think he was cute?”

“No!” Jungkook whispers harshly, peeking around to see if they’ve disturbed anyone with their talking.

Unconcerned about their surroundings, Taehyung advances on Jungkook, forcing him to shuffle further into the exhibit.

“Do you have a thing for tigers, Jungkook?”

Jungkook’s floppy ears hug tight to the side of his face, hiding him from Taehyung’s sparkling amber eyes. Mortified, he turns on his heel and walks past the large signage welcoming guests to learn more about Amarna art, the art style of the Amarna Period during the Eighteenth Dynasty of Ancient Egypt. 

The exhibit comprises open rooms connected by long, wide hallways. Each room is organized by art medium, with the first devoted to sarcophagi. Taehyung follows Jungkook into the first room, laughing under his breath about Jungkook being “skittish.”

Jungkook pretends not to hear him.

“Starting off with the mummies is an interesting choice,” Taehyung mutters as he strolls through the massive glass display cases. Some of the sarcophagi are empty, and most are closed, but a few mummies are on display near the back of the room.

“Why do you say that?” Jungkook asks, his natural curiosity and infatuation with Taehyung winning over his desire to be pouty.

“Mummies are all people care about. Shouldn’t they make us work for it by putting them at the end?”

Jungkook shrugs.

“I’m sure people don’t only come for the mummies. If they’re paying money, they might as well see the whole exhibit.”

Taehyung gives Jungkook a look that tells him he’s being naive, but Jungkook doesn’t care. He wants to believe people aren’t so simple-minded, even if Taehyung is the one going to school to study this stuff.

Despite appreciating art and considering himself an artist, if only to an extent, Jungkook has spent little time in art museums. His parents never celebrated the value of the arts. It seems silly to think about since he’s an adult now and can visit museums whenever he wants. Perhaps having the chance to appreciate art at his own pace is part of why it feels nice to meander through the different rooms with Taehyung.

Jungkook is also self-aware enough to know that he’s enjoying himself because half of his energy goes into watching Taehyung examine the art. Every once in a while, they’ll run into other museum guests discussing the displays in hushed voices, and they even come across a small group tour, but for most of the visit, they’re on their own.

The solitude allows Jungkook to see Taehyung in what appears to be his element. Taehyung occasionally hums to himself as he squints at the pieces, though Jungkook most enjoys it when he frowns. When it seems like he really likes a piece of artwork, his tail skirts the floor, flicking up to curl around his calf like he’s giving himself a little hug. It makes Jungkook wonder what Taehyung is thinking about — if his thoughts are purely about the Art History assignment they’re working on or if there’s more to his analysis.

Jungkook quickly concludes that Taehyung is simply a giant nerd when he peeks over his shoulder to find Taehyung skimming an article on his phone about the statue he’s standing in front of.

“What made you want to study art?”

Taehyung slips his phone into his pocket and frowns at Jungkook’s question – his face stuck in art examination mode.

“I’m good at it. Making it, critiquing it, researching it,” Taehyung begins, his hands finding the pockets of his jean jacket. “But mostly because it’s rather magical, right? How is it possible for art to trigger our emotions? How can a painting or song make people cry? Or for sculptures to make us nostalgic for a world we didn’t come from?” Taehyung gestures to the wooden toy horse amongst other treasures found in a child’s tomb.

From what Jungkook has learned about Taehyung over the semester, he is more of an observer than a participant in conversations. Still, when Taehyung has something to say, he never fails to leave Jungkook speechless — for better or worse. 

They’re silent for the rest of their time in the exhibit, only stopping to exchange quiet words when they need to take pictures or write notes about certain art pieces. They take their time admiring the busts and sunken reliefs of the ancient pharaoh Akhenaten and his wife, Nefertiti.

Jungkook gets easily caught up in the transformative magic of art history, losing track of time and place as he examines canopic jars in glass cases on raised pedestals and takes too long reading the information placards next to every item.

Just over an hour passes before Jungkook and Taehyung reach the end of the exhibit. Jungkook feels like hardly any time has passed at all.

“Wait,” Taehyung pinches the sleeve of Jungkook’s sweater as he’s about to push through the exit doors to return to the main hallway. “We have to take a picture as evidence.”

“Professor Jung is so silly for that. Who is going to lie about going to the art museum?” Jungkook says with a laugh.

Taehyung gives him another skeptical look. “You are too trusting.”

Jungkook lets Taehyung pull him into his side to take a selfie in front of the exhibit signage. Taehyung’s arm is a heavy weight around Jungkook’s waist. He tries not to be obvious when he breathes in deeply to cherish their brief closeness as Taehyung takes the photo before stepping away.

Not once does Jungkook question spending alone time with a predator or letting one get so close to him. Maybe he is too trusting.

“Do you want to leave now?” Jungkook asks once they’re out in the hallway.

He pulls at the sleeves of his sweater, giving himself sweater paws and avoiding Taehyung to look down the hall where the elevators are instead. He doesn’t want to leave because leaving means Taehyung will take him home, and Jungkook wants to spend more time with him. He’s just afraid to say that out loud.

“Want to go back to my place?” Taehyung asks like it’s the easiest question in the world.

Feeling hot in the face, Jungkook hides behind his ears when he mumbles a shakey, “Sure.”

“Cool, cool,” Taehyung nods, tail flicking as he leads Jungkook through the winding hallways to get back to the elevator lobby. “We can get food and work on our project.”

It takes everything in Jungkook not to launch himself into a hyperactive fit of wiggles, even with such a strong urge to jump at Taehyung, to throw his arms around his neck and latch on for dear life. It’s just too much excitement all bottled up in the young bunny’s body. He tries to focus on getting back to the elevators and keeping his heart beating at a normal rate, so much so that he doesn’t realize he’s leading the way rather than Taehyung. 

Jungkook has definitely taken them down the wrong hallway because they end up in the Renaissance era rather than the elevator lobby. He’s so hyped up on excitable energy verging on panic that he forgets to ask Taehyung to check the museum map. 

“Bun, look at this portrait.”

Noticing that Taehyung is no longer behind him, Jungkook backtracks down the long, wide hallway. Whichever painting has caught Taehyung’s eye must be unique; he seems picky about art.

“Wait,” Taehyung grabs Jungkook’s arm and pulls him to the side, positioning him for the perfect viewing experience. “Okay, now look.”

Following Taehyung’s gaze, Jungkook turns to look at the portrait — only to realize that the art hanging on the wall isn’t a painting, but a mirror. The sixteenth-century walnut frame is impressive, rectangular, and adorned with beautiful carvings and gold details painted around its curled edges. In the middle is an oval glass, clear as a teardrop.

“Beautiful, isn’t he?” Taehyung whispers, his eyes meeting Jungkook’s through the mirror from where he stands to the side. “Who knew such gorgeous bunnies existed in Renaissance Italy.”

Jungkook watches with shining eyes as his cheeks turn pink in the mirror. Taehyung’s praise floods his body with warmth even as Jungkook trembles when Taehyung takes a step closer.

“Stop teasing me,” Jungkook whispers, afraid his voice might echo through the empty hall.

“I’m serious,” Taehyung purrs against the curve of his ear. He curls his arms around Jungkook’s waist, pulling him close in a back hug and making Jungkook’s breath quicken.

“You’re just saying that.”

Taehyung maintains firm eye contact with Jungkook through the mirror as his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip. He’s warm and solid against Jungkook’s body, securely holding him into place when he trembles.

“Are you nervous?”

Breathless, Jungkook nods.

“Because little bunnies should stay away from big, scary tigers like me?” Taehyung teases in a syrupy voice that’s darker than it is sweet.

Is that why Jungkook can’t calm himself down? He doesn’t know; he can’t think straight. He watches a slow smile build on Taehyung’s face, one that ends up sharp and, well, predatory.

“I…”

“Hmm?” 

Taehyung presses his palm against Jungkook’s lower stomach and rests his chin on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“I don’t know.”

Jungkook licks his lips like Taehyung had, leaving them slightly parted as he tries to slow his breathing. He feels Taehyung’s quiet chuckle rumble through his chest and against his back. It brings Jungkook’s attention to the rest of his body, and he nearly goes weak in the knees when he realizes his ass rests against Taehyung’s crotch.

“Can I kiss you, bun?” Taehyung whispers in Jungkook’s ear. 

Jungkook can hardly formulate a response, every coherent thought fizzling from his brain like water evaporating off a summer sidewalk. It’s embarrassing how badly he wants to feel Taehyung’s lips on his. Rarely has he let himself consider the possibility that it may happen, always too shy – perhaps even insecure – to let such a genuine thought grow inside him. 

But now Taehyung’s breath fans across Jungkook’s neck, and he wishes he’d let himself fantasize more about the predator who’s always on his mind. Maybe then he could have been confident and sexy rather than the goopy mess he’s turning into as Taehyung cups his chin to tilt his face up and to the side. 

“Am I embarrassing myself right now by reading this whole day wrong?” 

“Y-yes,” Jungkook stammers, cheeks flushing pink. “I mean, no, yes, you can kiss me. Please.”

Taehyung’s sharp mouth turns boxy, and a bit of his predatory allure falls back to reveal the boyish charm Jungkook only rarely gets a glimpse of. 

“Good,” Taehyung hums as he slides his hand along to grip the back of Jungkook’s neck. 

Jungkook’s breath gets caught in his throat when Taehyung squeezes his neck to hold him in place. His grip isn’t tight, but his hand is large, and his hold is firm. The odd sense of security it brings Jungkook makes him feel gooey inside. 

Despite his aggressive hold on Jungkook, Taehyung kisses him gently. It starts with a soft but sure press of Taehyung’s lips against Jungkook’s, close-mouthed and almost a test run, as if Taehyung thinks Jungkook might pull back if he dives in too deeply. 

When Jungkook doesn’t, Taehyung kisses him harder, running his tongue over the seam of Jungkook’s lips until they part with a small gasp. Emboldened, he sucks Jungkook’s bottom lip into his mouth, swiping his tongue and dragging his teeth over it before he lets it go with a wet sound far too loud for a museum’s hallway.

“I love that you smell like me,” Taehyung murmurs against Jungkook’s lips before capturing them again and slipping his hot tongue inside Jungkook’s mouth. 

Jungkook twists in Taehyung’s embrace so their fronts fully press together. Throwing one arm over Taehyung’s shoulder and using his free hand to grip the front of Taehyung’s shirt, Jungkook pulls him close so Taehyung can hold up his weight. There’s no way Jungkook can stand properly when Taehyung is sucking on his tongue and biting his bottom lip, coaxing out shameless whimpers from the bunny hybrid.

“You taste so good,” Taehyung murmurs against Jungkook’s lips when they finally pull back just enough to breathe. He slides his hands down Jungkook’s back to grab his ass, squeezing and kneading it in his large palms.

“Oh,” Jungkook gasps and tightens his arm around Taehyung’s neck. Heat floods his body as his floral scent sweetens and spikes so strongly that Taehyung audibly inhales. 

It’s Jungkook’s slick. He can feel it drip between his cheeks and soak his briefs. It’s embarrassing how his body pulses with desire, stronger than he has ever felt in his entire life.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” Taehyung growls as he surges forward to steal another kiss. The deep, gravelly sound makes Jungkook leak more slick. 

Taehyung squeezes Jungkook’s ass again, this time pulling him closer when he does and forcing their hips to grind together.

“Taehyung,” Jungkook tries to speak through his uncontrollable whimpers. They’re making out in the middle of a museum, and now, Jungkook is so wet that he’s sure he has soaked through his pants. “Taehyung, there are cameras.”

“I know.” Taehyung grins into the kiss, causing his teeth to press against Jungkook’s lips.

It isn’t until Taehyung’s fingers brush Jungkook’s fluffy tail that Jungkook finally jerks away.

“Tae,” Jungkook rasps, panting and flooded with embarrassment that leaves his body shaking. “I’m, I, um...” 

Flustered, Jungkook trails off. He tries to look away, but Taehyung squeezes his chin, thumb pressing his cheek to force him to look at Taehyung. 

“Hey, bun,” Taehyung speaks softly, “I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

“My pants,” is all Jungkook manages to say, his brain a fuzzy mess, the only coherent thought being Taehyung Taehyung Taehyung. 

“Shit, take my jacket.” Taehyung quickly removes his jean jacket and wraps it around Jungkook’s waist, tying it by the sleeves at the front so the rest of the jacket covers Jungkook’s butt where his slick has leaked through his pants. 

“Can anyone tell?” Jungkook whispers while checking over his shoulder to see if other museum guests are nearby. 

“You’re okay.” Taehyung chews his bottom lip, cheeks tinged pink and eyes heavy. “I can take you home.”

“No!” 

Taehyung raises his eyebrows, and Jungkook feels his face burn even hotter. 

“You don’t want me to take you home?” 

Jungkook plays with the sleeves of Taehyung’s jacket, and a different kind of warmth floods his body when he considers how well Taehyung is trying to take care of him. He knows he should go home, but he doesn’t want to leave Taehyung – especially not with his lips tingling from his kiss and his head spinning from how Taehyung had sounded, practically moaning his name. 

“I thought we were going to work on our projects together…”

Jungkook doesn’t mean to put on the charm; his sparkly doe eyes naturally react to how giddy and alive Taehyung makes him feel.

With a grin that makes Jungkook’s stomach flutter, Taehyung grabs the jacket sleeves tied around Jungkook’s waist and tugs, forcing Jungkook to stumble toward him. It’s impossible to deny how much Jungkook enjoys Taehyung taking control and how Taehyung looms over him when they’re standing flush against each other – especially when Jungkook starts leaking even more slick. 

“Let’s go.” Taehyung’s sharp canines glint in the fluorescent lighting, and Jungkook finds it difficult to swallow. 

What has Jungkook gotten himself into?

Series Masterlist

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.

#taehyung x jungkook #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #venor #taekook fanfic