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xervn · 2 months

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like a french girl 🎨

part 1 - paint me | part 2 | art major ellie x dance major reader | ellie photo

ao3 link

summary: ellie had been struggling with finding the perfect model for her art final. that was until she saw you.

18+ MDNI | 2.2k words | tags; college au, pining, only a little explicit, no use of y/n, not proofread

disclaimer: not an art or dance major, don't shoot!

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Scribble, scratch, throw. This has been Ellie’s routine since she moved onto campus.

Why? Her professor told her that she draws the human body like it’s lifeless. Ranting about how they’re too one-dimensional and have no depth, her lines are too sharp or not sharp enough; flat and boring in looks and in feeling.

Now listen, Ellie has nothing against criticism. She respects her professor and she’s aware that her drawings lack “vitality”. It’s been something she’s struggled with for a while now, an effect of some recent events and overall adjusting to college life.

Ellie isn’t unable to grasp the anatomy of the body, in fact it’s the opposite. She knows the human body is complex and needs thorough observation. The way the sun hits the skin, the hairs on a knuckle, the creases of a smile. Wide, small, big, tall; no two bodies are exactly the same.

Really, the imagery is so clear to her, but she finds it impossible to transfer the life and motion of the body onto a piece of paper without truly understanding the person. The way she sees it, every body has a story, and in order to make a good piece she needs to know that story.

Since art school is filled to the brim with inspiring, exciting, and vibrant people, she has, of course, tried to talk with them. She attempted to get to know the models, ask them general questions and hope something clicks. Unfortunately, that has yet to happen. She can’t really ask her friends either without it getting awkward. Imagine, “ Oh, hey guys! Can you guys get naked and pose in one spot for my homework?” Hear how weird that sounds? Even though she’s sure Jesse would definitely be down, she values her eyes.

Any “muse” she could possibly ever want was right in front of her, so why was it really impossible for her to find one?

Well, because Ellie didn’t find anyone interesting enough. She’s not shallow or anything, it has nothing to do with how the model looked, Ellie has had several good-looking models. It was more about how she perceived them. It’s just that she hasn’t seen a model that made her ask questions like: “ How’d they get that scar?” “ What does that tattoo mean?” Stuff like that.

The last interesting model she had was probably a fucking homeless guy she shared a blunt with outside a gas station many moons ago. Till this day, he might be one of her best pieces. There’s not a lot of moments like that here.

Nonetheless, Ellie saw this developing– extremely lame— personal requirement of hers annoying as shit. It’s holding her back big time, but she couldn’t help it even if she really wanted to.

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It’s practically useless to keep trying. The tiny voice in Ellie's head presses her to keep going, keep failing, but enough is enough. She is seriously burnt out and any more of this might kill her. The only thing that could help right now is a meaty slice of pizza and a blunt as soon as she thought of it.

Ellie clears out her desk, knocking the stack of crumpled paper into a conveniently placed trash can; a placement made from her constant trials and errors. She pushes up, and stretches widely, obnoxiously groaning like an old man by the end of it. She quickly tidied herself up, tying up half of her hair into a ponytail and throwing on a dark-green flannel shirt she had to sniff before wearing over her plain white tee. She takes a quick look into her floor-length mirror, making sure she looks presentable before grabbing what she needs to head out.

Just as her hand reached for the silver knob, Ellie felt this overwhelming urge to look back. God, she knows what she is going to look back at, but she really hopes she doesn’t. Unfortunately, her eyes land on her sketchbook, laid flat on the desk underneath a lamp’s warm light. She shouldn’t.

She needs a break. She knows she needs a break, but there is a twinge of hope, faith, lodged somewhere inside her. The same faith that’s kept her from dropping out every day for the past four months. Ellie groans as she drags her feet to her desk where she whisks up the brown book and shoves it in her tote bag with an accompanying pencil. She swivels back to the door and strolls out, silently praying her mood improves in the next hour.

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The cafeteria was surprisingly crowded, but Ellie managed to get her pizza without saying ‘fuck it’ to the line. Still, the thought of eating between this buzzing mess when she was in such a shitty mood turned her off. Thankfully, she knew that everyone would be everywhere but the upstairs balcony, especially during this chilly time of year. No sane person would eat out there, and she’s not particularly sane. Ellie saunters off to the balcony and sits herself at a small table facing the view.

It only took a glance around before she came to the realization that the view is not really a view. There’s only a dorm a few feet away, directly across. It’s a large brick-laid, generic building with wide windows. If it weren’t for the blinds, the view into a room would probably be good enough to read a label on something. Ellie’s freckled face grimaces at the thought, imagining what it’d be like if someone watched her rage as she messed up her homework over and over from this distance. Despite that, she thought it’d probably be a pretty good spot to live in. It’s close to the cafeteria and probably a lot bigger than her 1x1 dorm.

With a twinge of curiosity piquing her mind, Ellie glimpses over the windows, and for the most part, they are all closed.

All closed, but yours.

Yours doesn’t even have blinds. You’re on the 3rd floor and almost completely unobscured in a black camisole, sitting on your questionably roomy windowsill with a leg perched up. Ellie can see the fairy lights strung up in your bedroom, and a line of succulents closer to the window; ordered by size, which she briefly thought was cute.

You aren’t facing the window, so she can only see your back. What she could see, though, is you doing your hair, occasionally swaying to what she can only imagine is music. Your room is high, but low enough for her to identify you if she had the pleasure of knowing you. Knowing you, reverberates in her head. Does she know you? Has she met you before? Amongst that babble, there is one more question she is slowly trying to gather an answer to.

Time passes, most definitely shorter than Ellie would have thought passed. Her eyes have been glued on you the whole time, she even forgot about her, now freezing cold, pizza just so she could gawk at you. She still hasn’t seen your face yet, barely even a glimpse, but she already thinks you are stupidly beautiful just by the way you move.

From the graciousness of your movements alone, she thought there was no way in hell you didn’t know she was watching. At some point, your arms got tired, so you smoothly rolled your aching shoulders back; stretching into an arched, effortlessly perfect posture. Ellie’s eyes traced that slight curve of your back as if you’d disappear if she broke off from you.

There is no way it gets better from that, is what she thinks to herself, only to be shut up immediately after when she sees that perfectness of your back stay as you bend over and shift onto both knees to grab something far away, bringing your shorts in view. So short— so tight , they could easily be mistaken for panties.

It was unexpected to say the least, Ellie could feel her face heating up and had to look around her to see if anyone else could see what she was seeing right now. Ellie wondered about the practicality of those shorts, wondered what exactly they were supposed to cover, leering at the plush of your ass peeking out. She thoughtlessly lets her jaw drop before muttering out a low, impressed, and barely over a whisper, “Well, fuck.”

You must’ve noticed your shorts riding up, since you quickly pulled them down after you grabbed what you wanted. Ellie clears her throat, internally scolding herself for being so gross— so perverted. Her brows furrow in embarrassment from all the dirty thoughts she brewed up in that moment. But for some reason, she still doesn’t look away. Well, there’s a list of reasons for her to look away, but she feels like ignoring it.

Then a cold gust of wind bites past her face, clearly a sign from the universe that she should snap out of it, and snap out of it she does.

What the hell happened to her? What is it about you that she keeps leaning into? Suddenly something clicks in her brain. After months of creative agony, something finally clicked. She has sat here completely fascinated by you and she couldn’t tell sooner?

In all honesty, to say she is just “interested” in you would be an understatement. Yeah, now she thinks you’re the perfect model for her final, but she wants to know you beyond just the drawing. A plus is that you just happened to be hot, and Ellie has never been attracted to a subject before, so the whole thing was new and exciting to her. Just the thought of drawing you made her remember why she loved art so much. Ellie reaches for her tote bag sitting in an empty seat beside her, pulling out her sketchbook with more enthusiasm than she probably ever has. She sets the book down, opening up a blank page with one hand and tightening her grip on her pencil in the other.

She looks back up at your window, ready to sketch your life onto paper and.. Shit. You’re looking back.

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Today has been a good day for you, your teacher chose you to teach the choreo you’ve been working on for weeks to your classmates. It was an obvious ego booster for you. You felt good and you wanted to look good too, even if you weren’t going out anywhere. It was just one of those nights. You wanted to experiment with your hair, thinking maybe you’ll do something new before your next practice. Dye it, cut it.. something.

It’s been a while since you started, and after several wrist and shoulder cramps, you were finally finished. You take a look into your hand mirror, peering at your reflection. You’re satisfied now, looking exactly how you’re feeling if you minus the dingy sleep clothes you’re in.

♫ My heart, I never be, I never see, I never know. ♫

Grimes? Really? You pout, upset that your playlist didn’t magically read your mood. What you need is real 2000’s hot girl music. Britney Spears, Nelly Furtado, or Beyoncé for crying out loud.

“Alexa, skip!” You shout across the room, just loud enough for the device to hear.

The stupid thing doesn’t even light up, so you call out a few more times but to no avail. Isn’t the whole point of that thing to be voice automated? You sigh and look around for your phone, and seeing it’s nowhere in front of you, you figure it’s behind. You twist your torso to find your phone behind you and luckily you do. As you pick it up, you casually glance out the window without any expectations.

Did you see a figure in the blur as you looked away? You question your eyes, but you decide to take another look and just find out for yourself.

You peer back down and your eyes meet with someone else’s. The sudden eye contact between you and this woman instantly mortified you. Your heart sunk, and all you could do was raise your brows stupidly. She was surprised too, even in the dim light you could see her shocked expression boring back at you. Not only that, it went on for way longer than it should have. Any normal person would’ve looked away, but her eyes lingered on you before she hastily turned away.

You’ve been sitting here, dressing up your hair, listening to your music without a care in the world. Far too absorbed in yourself to realize there’s someone outside your window. You slide off your windowsill and out of sight. Just as your bottom finally hits the wood floor, you feel the coldness of it against your skin and you’re immediately conscious of the fact that your ass was literally out at some point.

The poor girl was trying to eat her food and you were bending over in front of your window like a harlot. It certainly didn’t help that she looked kinda hot. Did she? You peeked over your windowsill, hoping to get another look to really assess her hotness, but she was already gone. Whatever, maybe she didn’t see? But she looked embarrassed… embarrassed for you probably!

You hide your face in your hands and topple to the side, letting out a fake sob. Oh, god. You can already imagine Dina’s face when you tell her. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing at that thought. That was humiliating as shit, but it’s whatever. It’s not like you’ll see her again.

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side note: if you have any tropes you'd like to see w/ this universe pls do drop an ask 🤭

click 4 more!

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie the last of us #tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #the last of us part 2 #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #lesbian #ᝰ like a french girl

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hisui-dreamer · 1 year

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harveston's warmth

Characters: Jade, Idia, Sebek, Epel, Jamil

Synopsis: Your lover notices you're cold while looking around in the Harveston market, how does he help warm you up?

Tags: spoilers for Harveston Event, warming up, fluff

Word count: 901

Notes: i was craving warming up scenarios the whole time i was reading the event, so here's our Harveston bois being super fluffy!

Masterlist

Jade's like a child in a candy store running around from stall to stall looking at what interesting plants they have

once he notices you're shivering though, he drops everything and makes you his first priority

he's a bit frustrated at himself given his low body temperature can't warm you up

his touch would be ice cold, so he's careful to not accidentally chill you

he can't physically warm you, but his affection does wonders

gets you warm drinks and the mushroom soup to help maintain your body warmth

takes off some of his outer layers to give you more insulation

analyses your every move to see if you're improving

definitely goes and learns warming spells after the trip to make sure he's well equipped to take care you next time

might also tease you by placing a cold hand on your neck haha

Jade's eyes narrow as he notices your shivering, before quickly springing into action. "My pearl, I can see you're feeling cold," he says with concern. "Come, let's get you warmed up. Just hold on a little longer, and I'll make sure you're cozy in no time," his cold lips press against your forehead, but the heat that rises to your cheeks warms your heart.

Idia is a bit sensitive to the cold, but with enough cold gear he's fine

i mean his hair is fire, he's not that cold

he's imprinting every single detail of the market to memory and noting what similarities there are between the anime and real life

when he sees you shivering, he gets a bit worried

temperature causes health damage after all

quietly buys you apple ginger tea, the statistically most efficient drink for warming up

and might just stand closer to you and radiate his hair body heat for you

he's too shy to be openly affectionate in public so cut him some slack

the next day, he's giving you a small portable heater he built from scraps he found

you can't freeze to death on him now, okay?

"Hey... uh, it looks like your temperature bar is dropping," Idia mutters with a concerned look. "Let's quickly buff up your warmth stat and get you back in the comfort zone ASAP before you take health damage!"

he's also freezing

distracting himself from the cold by thinking about malleus

then he notices you're also cold

he has an excuse now

takes you to the bonfire for you to warm up, but it's just the two of you, side by side, gloves off, hands in the air trying to get some warmth from the flames

it's kind of endearing really

inches closer to you to try and offer his own body heat

if you get him to rant about malleus, his face will get warm from how passioned he is trust me

gets you a hot drink but only because he was already getting one, okay human?

might hold hands blushingly hehe

or if he's feeling bold, hugsss

would also suggest going on brisk walks to generate body heat

"No one can warm you up better than me, human!" Sebek exclaims, his chest puffed with pride. "It's my duty as your lover to keep you comfortable." There's that smug glint in his eyes that always makes you smile.

he's so excited to show off harveston to you!

his favourite person in the world, at his hometown, his favourite place in the world

as the tour guide, he notices you're cold rather quickly

takes you to a good spot to sit by the bonfire

once your comfortable, he'll go and get any warm drinks you want

definitely huddles closer to you, wrapping his arms around you to share his body warmth

takes off his gloves and slides his hand into your glove!!!

many tricks to get warm from him, given he had to grow used to it

uses this as an opportunity for you to try all sorts of harveston cuisine

he's so so happy to be able to take care and provide for you

"Aw shucks, looks like ya need some warmth, sugar cube!" Epel says with a gentle smile. "Lemme fetch ya a hot cuppa cocoa or some warm soup. I'll make sure ya stay warm and toasty, no matter what it takes. You can count on me!"

Jamil is a bit sensitive to the cold, but he's used to it given the chilly nights of the scalding sands

so he's doing okay in the harveston cold, not entirely warm, but not uncomfortably cold

and the excitement of travelling has him more excited and energised anyways

with how observant he is, he notices how you've become all quite and how you're shivering slightly

he can't give you some of his layers, so he'll drag you into the market to get some warm drinks

also just walking in crowds can heat you up with a bit

gets you apple ginger tea because he knows the medicinal properties ginger has to warm up

very very attentive and blows at your drink to make sure you won't burn your tongue

really, he's not fairing very well himself, but he's putting in a lot of effort to make sure you're comfortable

"You really should speak up when you're not feeling too well, you know?" Jamil sighs, smiling wryly. He extends his hand toward you. "Follow me, I know just the thing to get you warmed up."

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

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tojivu · 6 months

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stopp i need more of gojo w six eyes omg 😭😭😭 that last one was so adorable

# SIX II ‣ GOJO SATORU

✰ — author’s note you ask and i deliver :3 please keep the asks flowin my 2 month break is soon!! i am fortunately very free.. also i think i might make one with husband satoru :7

✰ — cw / tags fiance!satoru , read part 1 first because it makes more sense , gn!reader , swearing , gojo being so pretty you’re literally in a daze LOL , not proofread , sfw as always

✰ — playing endlessly by alina baraz.

✰ — word count 1k

"they need to start a fucking cab service here."

GOJO SATORU, your now fiancé, has been whining for the past half an hour—and as his lover, it is your (unconsented) responsibility to hear all of it. the snowy haired man walking in front of you has his handheld fan out in a futile attempt to cool himself off, and of course it reaps no benefit: it's thirty three degrees, ninety one in fahrenheit. what would a measly fan be able to do?

that's precisely what you say to him, your mood was sour as well; having to listen to your querulous husband-to-be grumble about the weather and the walking distance was taking a toll on you.

"plus. . . who was the one who," you found that talking made you feel hotter, so you tried to refrain from long strings of words. "asked to eat at a restaurant. . ."

you huff. ". . .40 minutes away from the station. . ."

you two were sick of tokyo, and you suppose it's partially your fault as well: you've been pestering him for the past month to visit the countryside to get some fresh air. you thought it would be cooler here, seeing as to how rare cars and buses were to come by—ironically, a car or bus is exactly what you two need at this moment.

at least now, your pool of choices for honeymoon destinations are narrowed—the silver lining that was not so silver amidst the heat, and compared to the amount of walking you had to endure.

"we should've just went to switzerland."

it takes a long while before you two make any turn. the pavement is stretched long and far, and the only buildings you'd come across were tiny houses belonging to the countryfolk.

gojo is walking backwards, ranting to you about what could've been in the swiss alps: on and on about snowball fights with you and napping together on a couch in front of a cozy fire. all of his eyes are looking at you, a pitiful gaze in each pair.

yet, you're still here, in the blistering and merciless heat. there was nothing complaints would change, it’s not like you could teleport.

"well, just book a flight to switzerland yourself, then!" you hiss, looking away from gojo, who seemed so unappreciative of the quality time he’s spending with the alleged love of his life.

your scolding makes him laugh. a smug smile spreads across his face, because he was just kidding: he supposes it's not half bad because you're still here with him.

though, he still thinks it would be better by tenfold if the weather was just a little bit more compassionate.

you don’t realise gojo’s stopped walking and is standing in front of you, as you’re preoccupied with the sulky attitude; you bump into him, almost tripping and falling off the concrete pavement—not before he catches you with quick arms and undeniable strength.

you would’ve fallen face flat onto the road if not for your fiancé instinctively reaching for you, and he’s prepared for an earful when you realise what just happened.

“satoru,” you grit your teeth. he closes his eyes, all six of them, in preparation for the scolding he was going to receive from you. “do you not have anything in that dense skull of yours?“

his arms are firm around your waist and your hat is poking at his chest. you look up at him, realising his eyes are open now—blinking at you ever so slowly, as if asking for pity.

all six of his eyes blink in sync, and you spend a good ten seconds staring at his face. something about the way his eyes glistened in the harsh sunlight and the way his hair frames them perfectly, snowy white hair clashing with the blues of his irises—a trance was what he had you under.

“stop looking at me like that.”

“i thought you liked them.” gojo puts on a pout, and it’s too obvious that he’s fishing for your affection—he might as well just ask you to tell him what he wants to hear.

nevertheless, you spoil satoru; as you have always done and continue to do. you think he’s too used to your cooing and that somebody definitely needs to humble him, but you know that somebody wouldn’t be you.

“i love them, ‘toru.” you say, and his pout disappears as quickly as it came. “i love you.”

the whites of his teeth shine in the sunlight when he hears you say those precious words; it never fails to confuse you, how easy it is to please gojo—except that it isn’t, he was only easy when it came to you.

he takes off your hat and you scowl at the heat that your hat has been shielding you from. gojo presses a kiss onto your forehead, not pulling away even after seconds have passed.

“love you more.”

you scoff. “i’m not getting into that argument with you.”

he finally pulls away and his eyes blink at you again, with that same sulking expression. “so you don’t wanna say it back? do you not love me more, y/n?”, and there goes his comedically unconvincing pout.

you bite the inside of your cheek, attempting to put on the sternest look you can; but you take one more good look at him and it’s utterly useless.

people found it hard to get their ways with you. you were a stubborn person, naturally—standing your ground was something that came easy to you. you wonder why it’s different with satoru, though.

perhaps it was his face, his painstakingly handsome face—but you know it definitely had something to do with the way he looked at you, the way his eyes and gaze made you weak in the knees.

“i love you more.” you give in for the second time, and seeing the smirk on his face form makes you realise you’ve done it again: fallen right into his trap.

the pairs of eyes on his forehead and cheeks shut their eyelids. “no, think i love you more.” satoru declares before planting another kiss, this time on your right cheek. “i know i do.”

such a sly man, you think—you wouldn’t marry anyone else.

221023 — it’s 4am..

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year

Text

Jungkook: 8:45 PM 🔞

Tags/Warnings: Adult, smut-heavy, making out, Idol!Jungkook, Fluff, Established Relationship, implied foreigner!Reader, not home AU though, Jungkook struggling hard, misunderstanding, angst with happy end, emotional smut, oral (fem. Receiving), protected sex bc this is me writing this and I teach you kids the true life lessons

Lenght: long.

AU-Masterlist

Languages are marked as English / Korean.

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He still can't believe your first time got interrupted by something as ridiculous as his manager calling him.

It's like a reminder that his career will always somehow wiggle itself between him and whatever happiness he tries to find outside of it- nothing ever truly personal for him, everything always meant to be well thought through so it fits into his public persona.

But he refuses to give you up, even knowing all of that.

Apologizing for it just feels.. odd now, like bringing up something awkward you did ten years ago that everyone forgot about anyway before you decided to rekindle the memory in their heads. But the problem here, right now, with you, is that he knows he should bring it up. Somehow. Because he's struggling hard to keep himself in check, even having had to embarrassingly rub one out in the shower this morning after you'd made yourself tea in his kitchen wearing nothing but a shirt and panties.

It's a problem.

He's hesitating to initiate anything now mainly because what if it happens again? He can't just put his phone on silent and ignore what could potentially always be very important calls from people who only want what's best for him in the long run- real life doesn't work like those movies where the protagonist throws it all away for his girl. He wants to, he truly does- but at the end of the day, he's also scared, because if he falls, he'll potentially take you down with him, and God knows how deep he'll fall with where he stands right now.

A drop from a height this high would shatter you inevitably, and he's sure he'd crack like delicate porcelain just as much by having to watch you suffer the consequences of his actions. You don't deserve that.

"..-ungkookie?" You try again, and he snaps out of his thought, looking at you.

"Hm?" He responds, looking at you next to him.

"I asked if you want me to cook for us tonight. Is that alright?" You wonder, and he nods, eagerly so, because of course he'd love to have you do something so domestic with him. He's always dreamed of being able to experience these things after all, despite his curse of being a public figure who's not supposed to appear unavailable. "Alright-!" You hum. "Gonna have to put pants on now though, gotta go get some groceries.." you whine under your breath as you stretch on the couch naked feet pushing against his thighs and oh, how your back arches-

No, bad brain. Not right now.

"I'll give you my card, hold on." He tries to save himself, getting up to fetch his wallet as you begin to laugh.

"Jungkook baby, I can cover some groceries, don't bother!" You argue softly, getting up as well before walking over to him. "You'll just have to survive some minutes without me, that's all." You tell him, hugging his middle as you put your chin on his chest, looking up at him. "Also, people would think I'm a gold digger for using a black card looking like.. well, me." You joke, as he can't help but reach out to affectionately brush some hair out your face, hands holding your cheeks.

"M'sorry." He mumbles, and you part a bit from him, serious at his tone of voice used.

"Hm? For what?" You wonder, and he sighs. Why did he bring it up now? This is going to be so awkward, he already dreads it. But now that he's put the noose around his neck, he might as well stand on the chair too.

"Yesterday. Or.. day before? Technically it was, wasn't it.." he rants, before sighing. "I hate that we.. had moment, you know, and then.. nothing. Ruined." He complains softly, and you can't help but look at him affectionately. He's such a soft soul sometimes, worries about so much that doesn't even need to be worried about.

"Jungkook, it's fine." You answer.

"Not fine-" he shakes his head. "Not fine, I- ugh, I want you, you know? Want to, but now, it's awkward and I don't know how to initiate it because every time I plan to I keep thinking of that moment he called and-" he groans in frustration, head thrown back before he looks down at you. "I'm sorry." He apologizes yet again, and you laugh.

"I forgot to pack socks for this trip, that's why I'm always barefoot in your apartment here." You say, and he blinks once, twice, before he looks at you, confused but amused the same.

"What?" He questions, tilting his head for a split second and you shrug.

"Now I've made an awkward moment for myself too. We're even." You explain, and he laughs.

"Thats not how that works-" he wants to argue but he inevitably leans down to kiss you- a peck quickly deepened by you, because God knows you want him just as much. But the struggle of initiating isn't solely his alone, because you don't know how to either. All is still new with your relationship, you don't even live together at this point in time, only a week more and you'll be back home trying to figure out how to move most of your stuff to his country so you can be closer. This was all a test, after all- to see if it's worth it. If you'll be okay.

And you know now, you'll be just fine with him at your side.

"Hm I need to get going now though-" you say, trying to escape him now- but he won't let you, hands firm on the small of your back as he keeps you against him, lips chasing yours making you giggle as you lean back as far as you can. "Jungkook!" You laugh, but he just playfully bites at your neck.

"No, I'm hungry." He mumbles against your skin, and you look at him, pushing against his chest.

"Yeah that's why I have to go? Get everything to cook?" You remind him, but he shakes his head, gaze making it clear that he doesn't care for that.

"Not.. that." He tells you. "Hungry for you." He says, raising his brows and you laugh at how ridiculous he's being. How can he be both so cute but also attractive at the same time? It's truly unfair.

"You're so cute." You tease, catching him off guard to escape his grasp and run into the bedroom to get some proper pants at least. But he's faster, palm slapping flat against the wood of his door before the momentum of his move slams it into the wall with a loud noise, making both of you jump for a second before he stalks towards you.

And once the backs of your legs hit the edge of his bed, you know you lost.

It's like his patience had finally snapped, his hands eagerly helping you out of his shirt, happily running his palms over your skin, warm and soft as you move around a bit to get comfortable. He sighs when his phone vibrates somewhere close- probably having fallen out of his pocket on the couch earlier, and you laugh, visibly uncaring of his misery. "Go get it." You tell him when it sounds again, and he groans out loudly as if he's in pain, angrily stomping back into the living room, where you can hear him answer the call with an annoyed tone to his voice. It surprises you when he walks back into the bedroom however, pointing to the shirt you're attempting to put back on, before he motions for you to put it back on the floor where he'd thrown it down earlier.

Just what is he thinking right now?

"Yeah, that's fine." He talks into the phone, his free hand untying the strings of your sweatpants, before he pulls on the hem, tapping your hips as if to silently ask you to lift them so he can get you out of those pants. "Not right now, but tomorrow is fine." He continues to talk to whomever is speaking to him over the phone, while simultaneously running his hand from the side of your knee, up to the hem of your underwear, the last item of clothing covering you at the moment. It's oddly exciting to see him so serious, yet clearly more focused on you than anything else.

You've never felt so adored before.

His fingers slip underneath the side of your panties, teasing you, so close yet way too far from where you'd like his hands to be most right now. And he's clearly aware of it too; if the hooded eyes and the small smirk on his lips was anything to go by. "No, right now.. I'm pretty busy. Sorry." He speaks again into the phone, thumb running over the dip between your inner thigh and your by now more than aching heat. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip for a second, before the whole thing visibly seems to edge him just as much- then tent in his pants evident.

"Alright, yeah, just- text the schedule to me and I'll talk to you tomorrow about it, okay?" He offers into the phone, moving to stand up and search for something in the drawer of his bedside table- colorful foil package pretty obviously hinting at what he means when he's said he's currently busy. "Alright, hmhm, yup- bye." He rushes out, ending the call before he throws his phone somewhere onto the shirt you'd been wearing, his eyes rolling in an annoyed manner before he takes off his own shirt, joining you on the bed.

"Did you really hang up on him like that?" You wonder, giggling when he has to sit back to slip out of his loose grey sweats as well, jumping on one foot for a bit as his other gets stuck in the fabric for a second.

"I'm not sorry." He shakes his head, crawling closer to you on the mattress to get a hold of both sides of your panties. "I've got my hot girlfriend all pretty and ready, no one can ever blame me for being needy." He shrugs, shaking his hair out of his face before he tries to pull your underwear off. "Hey come on now!" He whines almost, a stark contrast to the tattooed, muscled appearance of him currently already flushed and fully erect, straining against the cotton of his own underwear.

"Needy." You tease, and suddenly, as if you'd pushed a button, as he suddenly pulls on the fabric with more determination, successfully getting rid of the item of clothing with a gaze that screams fake innocence. Jungkook isn't new to sex, and neither are you- but it's the first time doing it with each other, which naturally places a bit of pressure onto you.

Or maybe it usually should be like that- because somehow, it all comes naturally.

When his hand finds your heat, you're already melting underneath his gaze, no words spoken as he leans further over you, catching your lips again. Only that this time, he truly seems hungry; no longer offering you fleeting pecks but desperate kisses that try and convey just how much he wants you right now. He knows that he could never truly make it clear to you though- because he himself doesn't even know if that's possible.

He's never wanted anyone so bad.

And while usually not too fond of it, his need to prove himself as the perfect lover- emotionally and physically- makes him detach himself from you for a second, before he adjusts his position, leaning down to have you lay your legs over his shoulders, hands holding your thighs apart as he lays his mouth onto your heat.

It's an entirely new experience for you, and he knows.

But luckily, if your Impatient whining was anything to go by, you're definitely enjoying yourself as he flattens his tongue over your sensitive nerves, eyes focused on you while he has to use a little strength to keep your legs apart, especially when you grow close to your first orgasm. He's eager to see it, moving away to gain a better view before one of his hands finishes the job, gaze on you as you arch your back and come undone from his actions.

And its now that he really can't take it any longer.

"Fuck I need you." He curses under his breath, finally getting rid of the last item of clothing he still had on until now, no need to give his length any form of help to get ready for you. He can't help but groan a little under his breath at how sensitive he feels, rushing the act of wrapping the condom over as to not rile himself up too much.

After all, he wants to be inside you for his own orgasm, no matter what.

"Hm I'll go slow, ok?" He asks, and you nod, hands reaching out for him, making him chuckle. "You're cute." He comments, earning a roll of your eyes in return. He lets it go for now- giving you a pass this time, but only because be truly feels needy now.

He'd love to tease you a little, make you all whiny and desperate for him, but right now, he just wants you as close as he physically can get.

Though in his haste to get onto his own road towards pleasure, he never forgets you- pride swelling as he watches you hold onto him, wanting him just as much as he wants you. He's a little sweaty already, and the sheetsbare tangled badly at this point from all your squirming, arousal already staining some parts of them but right now he really can't bring himself to care.

He uses one of his hands to aid him in finding your entrance, positioning himself to carefully push himself inside, and at this point, he just feels as if he truly became one with you. It's the last key experience in a way he's had to have with you, and now that he's in exactly that moment, things start to feel real.

"I love you." He almost whispers into your neck while he starts to move. "I'm.. so grateful you're here." He tells you, hips moving at a steady pace. "I want you to.. stay forever." He almost asks, in a way, and while you can't give him an answer to that right now, you probably will later.

After you're back with the normal thinking human beings, because right now, with his pace and strength gaining as he chases his high, your head is definitely unable to form thoughts.

In a way, he loves the sight of you like this. It's awfully sinful, a sight only he wants to ever be able to see, no one else.

He can't control his own noises at this point, uncaring of his groans of pleasure as he chases after his peak, noticing you growing antsy as well, visibly eager to cum as well. And he will make sure you'll get your attention as well- he'd never let you down, ever.

And with his hand reaching in between you both to find where he needs to be, you're gone and out; head thrown back into the pillows while he pushes himself in deep, condom filling with his seed while he slows down into almost no movement at all.

Catching his breath, he leans down to you to kiss you once more, ticking of his clock on the bedside table coming back into the background noise, as well as the cars outside from the opened window, and your breathing underneath him. His senses return one by one as he pulls himself out, moving to get rid of the condom and start the shower.

"Come on." He asks, tapping your thigh, but you just whine all grumpy at him. "Noo get up, get up- the bed's all messy and we're too.!" He laughs, all energized from his own afterglow, while you seem to be the exact opposite, having to be physically pulled into a sitting position by your wrists. Jungkook himself can't help but simply laugh, before he takes matters into his own hands, lifting you up over his shoulder-

And of course, landing a loud smack onto your butt for good measure.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #bts smut #jeon jungkook x reader

1K notes · View notes

plainemmanem · 2 years

Note

Can you do a Steve Harrington request about to kiss trope with the dialogue “you’re staring” “so are you”?

stevie in his silly little family video vest with his silly little name-tag, answering his silly little calls with his silly little customer service voice <3

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

You’re so fucking pretty.

It hurts, honestly. When Steve’s eyes trail over to you at work.

It’s painful.

You’re not even doing anything. You’re literally restocking the shelves and you look so fucking beautiful it hurts.

Light streams in from the front window, illuminating your skin. The beauty marks and imperfections up your arms, your wrists, your collarbones.

It takes everything in him not to reach out and feel your warmth every shift.

The front door opens with a ding, indicating a customer, but Steve can’t tear his eyes away from you. The door closes, letting in a gust of wind and ruffling the soft ends of your hair, shooting a shiver up your spine. His hand clenched the mouse a bit tighter upon seeing the slight goosebumps traveling up your arm.

He tears his eyes away for a brief moment to keep up appearances, glancing at the computer screen. His eyes are back on you a second later, his teeth nibbling at his bottom lip as he watches you scratch at an old sticker on one of the tapes absentmindedly.

Your uniform is a little tattered, your shirt hangs off one of your shoulders and a bit of your bra strap peaks out at him. A hand comes up to readjust your neckline as you crouch down to start on the tapes on the bottom shelf.

Old, scuffed sneakers adorn your feet, and Steve nearly loses his mind when he notices the socks you have on. They have a ruffled edge, hugging your ankle, and little hearts peak up over your shoe as you kneel down.

His eyes were back on the computer screen again, not even reading the words, just scanning his eyes across letters and hoping that his staring isn’t too obvious. He’s been harboring a crush ever since you started.

When Robin had mentioned a few weeks ago that one of her friends would be applying, Steve’s curiosity was peaked, and it was all downhill from there.

“What’s she like?” He leaned onto the counter right next to her suggestively, one arm holding him up and the other resting on his hip. A brow quirked up.

As she scribbled in 4-down, she glanced up at him. She caught his overly-interested gaze, immediately slamming her puzzle book closed.

"No! No, Steve, don't even give me that look," she scolded, a warning hand held up in his direction as she walked away from the counter and towards the back room.

Steve's face dropped to pure confusion.

"What?" he shouted at her retreating form. "What look?"

Robin spun abruptly, shooting him a stern look and an accusatory finger.

"That look you get anytime I mention anyone I know who's a girl." She was stalking back over to him now, angrily. "You get this, this... King Steve look all over your face and I will not be indulging you this time-"

She spun again, heading to the back room with much more purpose than before. Steve quickly followed after her.

"'King Steve look? Wh-"

Robin continued her previous rant, cutting him off over her shoulder.

“I am not letting you get your grubby little guy hands all over her. I actually like this girl; she's cool and funny, and way outta your league might I add-"

"Thanks-"

Robin swings the back door open, dropping it in Steve's face. He catches it with his palm, mouth pressing into an annoyed line.

"And I don't want our friendship to be ruined because you... tainted her."

She stalked towards the cart full of returns and white-knuckled the handle bar, once again shooting Steve a warning look.

"C'mon now, 'tainted' seems a little harsh-"

"And she could possibly be coming to work here, and I just don't wanna ruin the one good girl friendship I have right now."

She was still clearly annoyed, but her face fell a little in defeat, well aware of Steve's track record with the other girls Robin's introduced him to.

Ever since Nancy, Steve's been a bit of a player. A bad one, but a player none the less. The most recent girl was Louise — Robin's lab partner. Robin hasn't talked to Louise in a while, not after Steve's disastrous date with her last Friday. Chemistry has been particularly awkward.

Steve's face fell at Robin's concern. He really did feel bad about Louise, and all the other girls Robin's had to cut ties with because of him.

"Right..." Steve stuffed his hands into his jeans, sneaker scuffing the grimy carpet beneath his feet. "Yeah, right, I'm sorry." He looked up at her seriously, hoping to get across his sincerity without too many words.

"It's alright, Steve. I... I know things have been kinda weird for you."

Nancy. Everything led back to Nancy, and Steve was sick of it.

He took a tentative step towards her, arm coming out to grab onto her elbow, fixing her with a serious gaze.

"No funny business from me, alright? Nothing more than a handshake, I swear."

She gave him a half-hopeful, half-skeptical look, before letting out a breath.

"Promise?" she questioned, sticking her pinky up to him.

He latched his pinky with hers, squeezing just a tad.

"Promise."

Turns out, that promise would grow painfully difficult to keep.

——————————————————————————

You'd only been working at Family Video for about two weeks, and already Steve was a lovesick puppy around you. Of course, he always denied it, but it seemed to be obvious to just about everyone just how helpless he was for you.

Always offering you rides to work, even though you lived twenty minutes out of his way. Hiding any mistakes you make from Keith, even if it means staying an hour late to rearrange the horror section. Hell, he'd give you the shirt off his back if you asked.

But, today had been particularly challenging. It was just you, Robin, and Steve.

"Why don't you take a picture?" Robin huffs, dropping a stack of tapes on the counter next to the computer. Steve’s eyesquickly snap from you to the exasperated girl beside him. "It'll last longer." She mutters to him, turning around to peak over at you.

Steve's cheeks felt hot, but he tried to play it cool, eyes now locked with the computer screen.

"I dunno what you mean." His attempt to sound causal comes out a little stilted and he winced a little to himself.

"Oh, please," she grunts as she hops up on the counter. "You moon after her just about every time you see her. I'm surprised she hasn't quit yet."

A nervous chill runs up his spine and his blood runs cold, both at the idea of you quitting and the idea that you possibly know of his little crush. Sure, you’ve dropped a few sneaky hints — little remarks here and there that you may mirror his affections — but Steve was always too afraid to get his hopes up.

In his peripheral, Steve watches you gather up the rest of the tapes, now making your way towards the counter. He begins running through some lines in his head. How's it going? Too basic. How's restockin'? Too dorky. Have I mentioned I might be in love with you—

"Hey, guys." Your chipper tone rings out as you head behind the counter, your stack of tapes wobbling.

Steve drops the mouse immediately at your voice and turns to look at you — trying extremely hard to appear casual — when he spots the tapes slowly shifting in your arms. He rushes over, grabbing the stack and righting them for you, peeking around to give you a sheepish look.

"Heh, thanks." You shoot him a shy, grateful look as he takes the top half of the stack. "You'd think after working here for two weeks now, I'd get the hang of the whole restocking thing." You laugh nervously and set your half of the tapes on the counter next to Robin, shooting her an embarrassed grimace.

"Oh, don't worry. Stevie, here, has been working here for months now and he still has yet to learn how to hang a window display."

Steve shoots Robin a warning look from behind your back, but his anger drops upon hearing a small giggle leave your lips. You spin back around to face him with a warm smile, arms crossing over your chest smugly.

"That's funny, cause just the other day, our boy Steve said it was you who couldn’t figure it out."

A shocked gasp comes from Robin and you can hear her feet hit the ground as she hops off the counter, then her stomping towards the guilty-looking boy.

"Steve!" She hit him in the shoulder.

"Oow!" He said it almost like a question, like a “What was that for?"

"You." Smack. "Are." Smack. "Such." Smack. "A." Smack. "Dick." Smack.

"Jesus, Robs, could you-" his remark dies on his lips a tad at the sound of your cackling. He gives you a smarmy look as your eyes twist shut and your arms cross your middle in laughter. Quickly, he catches himself staring once again, and turns his annoyance back on Robin. "Could ya not hit me so hard?"

She storms off towards the back once again.

"Please?" Steve calls out after her, arms raised theatrically in the air. He turns his gaze back on you, fixing you with an exasperated look. But, he can’t stay mad for long when you're smiling so big at him.

"You just had to tell her, didn't you?" He sighs, a little to exaggeratedly to be genuine, and you chuckle as he turns back to the computer. "I bruise easily, ya know."

You shuffle a bit closer towards him as you peak at the computer screen. The warmth of your front seeps into his arm and his grip on the mouse gets a touch tighter.

"Sorry, but my loyalties lie with her." You tease, reading all the returns on the screen. "Oh, geez, we're not gonna get Dirty Dancing back in? Shit."

"You're telling me you'd pick Robin over me in a fight?" He peaks down at you with furrowed brows. Then he turns back to the screen disappointedly. "Yeah, it sucks. I really liked that one too; Swayze's so fucking cool," he mumbles to himself.

You chuckle at the duel conversations taking place and turn to lean against the counter next to him, a little close for comfort.

"I mean, I've known Robin longer, so yeah, I suppose I’d choose her... You like Swayze? The guy seems a little pompous to me." Your shoulders shrug as you look towards the back of the store, avoiding Steve's gaze. You’re well aware of Steve's love for Swayze.

"Wh— ‘Pompous?' That better mean, 'one of the coolest guys on the planet.' Have you seen him in The Outsiders— You know what— No, you cannot distract me with your distaste for Swayze." He closes his eyes and shakes his head to right himself before turning fully to face you. "You're telling me, just because you've known Robin longer, if I asked you who you liked better, you would pick Robin over me?"

You contemplate for a minute, exaggeratedly - holding your chin and squinting your eyes dramatically.

"Hmm, I dunno. I mean, what do you have to offer that she doesn’t?"

"What do I have— Ok." His hands go up, ready to give you the rundown. "One," he counts out on his fingers, "I'm extremely funny—"

"Well, I feel that goes without saying," you quip.

"Two, I have a car—"

"No explanation needed."

"Three, I'm unbearably generous. I give you half of my lunch every time you forget to bring something—"

"Even though I tell you not to."

"And four, I'm painfully good-looking. Have you seen the hair?"

"And modest, too."

You give him a smug smirk, and he returns it with an irritated look, a smile still creeping onto his features.

You're so smart. And quick-witted. And pretty. And sweet. And— oh god, where is Robin?

Steve breaks eye-contact with you and glances around the store, desperately searching for Robin. He can't be alone with you for this long.

He peaks at his watch. 4:58. Thank god. Two minutes until he can leave. Of course, he doesn't really want to leave. He'd spend all day here with you if he could, but he's been trying really hard to keep things friendly, and he really doesn't know how long he'll be able to contain himself if you keep being so... you.

"You ok?" you question, a touch of concern creeping onto your features.

"Huh?" He looks back at you, eyes wide. "Oh, uh, no, yeah, I'm all good, I think I'm just gonna head out now." He rambles, walking out from behind the counter, a little too quick to be just casual.

"Aren't you gonna clock out?" You ask humorously, tilting your head towards the computer, your forearms resting on the counter coolly.

"Oh," he spins back around, an embarrassed blush crawling up his neck. "Yeah, right."

He shuffles back to the computer and opens the timecard software.

"Duh," he utters to himself absentmindedly, still trying to appear nonchalant.

"Duh." You mimic, a touch of amusement slipping into your tone.

He hits a few stray buttons and clocks himself out, turning to face you one last time.

You're close — really close — and Steve starts to freak out a bit, running his fingers through his hair and taking a tentative step back, bumping into the counter behind him.

"Well, uh," he chuckles nervously, "I-I'll see ya."

A smile ghosts over your features, and you take a small step towards him, just an inch or two away from his front. Leisurely, your warm palm comes up to rest on his bicep, just above the elbow, right on his bare skin.

He goes a bit frantic, eyes snapping down to the spot where you two meet, then back up to your eyes, a touch of helplessness in his expression.

You lean slightly into his chest, dropping your voice an octave, your breath fanning over his neck.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Steve." A little smirk graces over your lips and Steve jerks into action, sliding out from the counter and all but jogging to the front door, your warm touch on his arm still burning his skin.

"Uh, yeah," he raises his voice, walking backwards towards the door to maintain eye contact with you. "Bye! I'll uh, see you tomorrow, ok? Bye, Rob!" He turns on his heel, lifting his hand in the air to wave goodbye to you over his shoulder before he shoves the door open, running out into the parking lot, hands rubbing over his face frustratedly.

Just then, Robin pops out from the back; you're still staring after the vest-clad boy as he hops into his car.

"Someone's in a hurry," she mutters, alluding to his hasty exit. "What was that about?"

You smirk to yourself, watching as Steve rakes another hand through his hair, peaking back at the store and locking eyes with you for a brief moment. He immediately looks away, starting the ignition and peeling out of the parking lot.

A chuckle leaves you.

"Think I make him nervous."

——————————————————————————

The next day is even worse.

With Keith hiding away in the back, it's been just you and Steve out front all day.

You definitely know. You have to know the effect you have on him, especially after his behavior yesterday.

Steve's usually never this jumpy, but something about your soft touch and your melodic voice and your sickeningly sweet smell sets him off.

It doesn’t help the store is completely empty.

Absolutely bored out of his mind, Steve gives himself a little shake before focusing back on the computer before him, scanning over the list of names.

The Terminator - 10/10 CHECKED OUT

Pretty In Pink - 8/10 CHECKED OUT

Dirty Dancing - NO LONGER AVAILABLE

Blue Velvet - 6/10 CHECKED OUT

He peeks at his watch. Still about three more hours, and he's already run out of things to do. A sigh rakes through him as he mindlessly turns his eyes back to the log.

Labyrinth - NO LONGER AVAILABLE

True Stories - 1/10 CHECKED OUT

Eyes beginning to glaze over, the words no longer hold any meaning. He's just scrolling and scrolling through the list now, aimlessly trying to appear busy, when some movement behind the screen catches his eye.

Bunches of tapes are being placed in a stack towards the front of the store by gentle, purposeful hands. Your hands.

Today you're wearing your vest over a band t-shirt that Steve doesn't recognize. His jacket is draped over your shoulders - he insisted you use it after he saw your shiver when you walked in today, claiming he wasn't cold, as goosebumps pricked up his arms. The light grey of the jacket pairs well with your dark, bell-bottom jeans, a staple in your wardrobe that Steve has quickly come to recognize. The back pockets have small, embroidered flowers and you love to stick the old stickers on the thigh once you peel them off old returns. New dangly earrings glimmer through your hair as you work. Steve been waiting to mention them; he was just thinking of a non-creepy way to bring it up.

With the display finished, you gathered up the rest of the tapes and extra signs and headed to the counter. Steve quickly made himself look busy.

"Workin' hard or hardly workin'?" You tease as you make your way behind the register, setting the extra supplies on a lower shelf, out of view of the customers.

"Oh, you know me. I just... love doing inventory." He gave you a playful smirk, which you return knowingly.

"I know its a passion of yours," you chuckle and crouch down a bit, riffling through the cupboards until you find what you're looking for.

Steve hums, turning back to the keys and clacking away, trying desperately to get a peek at what you have in his peripheral.

You toss a pen and Robin’s old crossword book on the counter and shoot him a look.

"Think she'll mind?" you ask, leaning against the counter and making yourself comfortable.

Steve shrugs, "We'll just tell her it was Keith."

You chuckle and flip the book open. Your tongue pops out quickly as you lick your index finger for a better grip on the pages. Steve swallows a bit rougher then normal.

"You good at crosswords?" you ask nonchalantly as you flip to an empty page.

"Not particularly. Robin's usually the brains of the operation."

"You wanna help? I'm awful. Maybe if we stick our brainpower together, we'll have one working braincell." You smirk at your own joke and start to read through the clues up the side.

A small hum leaves him as he slides into your side. He's touching you, but only slightly, his jacket brushing against his arm as he leans over your shoulder to read the book himself.

"Ah, 11-down," he points it out on the paper, "'Sunburn treatment.' Sunscreen, easy."

"Steve,” you snort, “11-down is only four letters." You chuckle, filling in the word. Aloe. Peaking over your shoulder, you shoot a smirk his way.

"Right, right. I was just testing you."

"Right, uh-huh. Sure," you mutter, giggling to yourself.

"Ok, ok, here. 26-across.” He’s a bit more confident this time. “'Waterloo singers.' ABBA."

You side-eye him. "You know ABBA, Stevie?"

"Well— I mean, I've heard a couple songs."

Your eyes glint at him. "Right."

"Just fill it in." He huffs, leaning back down over your shoulder to lock eyes with the book.

The smell of your shampoo fills his nose and it takes everything in him not to reach out and pull your hair to the side to get a look at your pretty neck.

Clearing his throat a little, turns back to the stack of things you shoved away earlier under the register.

"Ok, what about this one. 65-across. 'God of Love.'"

He stops and thinks for a moment, stumped.

"I'm terrible with shit like this,” he mutters. “I dunno… Aphrodite?"

"God, Steve, not Goddess. Four letters... Maybe Eros?"

"See. You're smart. Why would you need my help?" he asks, gathering up the supplies for the next display and heading to the front window.

"Cause you looked bored. Thought I might entertain you." You follow after him, crossword and pen still in hand.

Once you reach the window, you grab his arm and stop him, holding the book out towards him.

"Here, trade me," you say, shoving the pen into his hand and taking the supplies from his arms. "I'm better at the display stuff anyways."

Steve blushes just a tad, remembering Robin’s teasing from yesterday.

"Right," he drops his eyes to the puzzle as you start organizing your supplies. "30-across, 'Bubbles.'"

"How many letters?" you grunt, stretching up on your top toes to hang a sign. Your shirt rides up just a tad, your soft skin emerging. His eyes snap back to the book.

"Um, four."

"Suds." You bend down, grabbing the clear masking tape. He fills in the four boxes with the black ink and turns his gaze back to you. Looking down, Steve's stomach flips just a little, noticing the edge soft edge of lace peaking out from your jeans.

Suddenly, the monotonous ring of the phone snaps him out of his thoughts. After a few rings, you turn and glance up at him.

"Gonna get that?" you ask innocently, and he has to stop his thoughts from racing once again.

"Uh, y-yeah, right." He hands you the pen and book and jogs lightly over towards the phone.

Leaning over the counter, he grabs the handset, readying his customer service voice.

"Thank you for calling Family Video, this is Steve." Slowly, he starts extending the cord and working his way around to the back of the counter, keeping the phone clutched to his ear. "How can I help you today?"

"Hello, young man," the woman's old, raspy voice crinkled through the other end and Steve inwardly groaned. "Do you think you could recommend something for an old timer like me?"

Steve rests his elbows, preparing himself for a long conversation.

"Well," he grabs the slinky from the shelf below the register, "do you have anything particular in mind, ma'am?"

"Well… I'm not too sure..."

He sighs silently, shuffling around the slinky and looking back up at you.

You had been staring, and you shoot him a little smile when you lock eyes.

"Old?" you mouth to him exaggeratedly.

He rolls his eyes. "Ancient," he mouths back, much to your amusement. You spin on your heel and start grabbing more signs to hang in the window.

"Well, the first time I called, a young man recommended some war picture. Something about the air force? ‘Top of the Gun’ or something like that." That was most definitely Steve. "I just hated it... And the second time I called, a young woman pointed me towards a charming little picture about a young man in love with his boss's mistress. The one with Jack Lemmon and Shirley MacLaine?" Definitely Robin. "Now, that one was just wonderful. Reminds me of something I would watch as a child. Way back when, movie tickets were only a nickel. A nickel! Can you believe that—"

It seems like the old woman was simply looking for some one to talk to. Steve started zoning out again as the old woman droned on through the headset.

Looking up, he spots you, kneeling down, grabbing the last of the signs and finally standing up a life size cut-out of Howard the Duck.

Steve was staring again.

He couldn’t help it. You were dynamic. He just couldn't tear his eyes off you, even as you crouched down to grab the crossword you set at your feet.

Studying the puzzle, you slowly brought the pen to your lips, nibbling on the end gently, before spinning it in your fingers to scribble in a word or two.

Your movements, your gestures, everything was mesmerizing about you.

Tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, you lean against a nearby shelf, continuing your pondering. Your foot bounced on the ground mindlessly as you tapped the pen to your lips, humming some tune to yourself that Steve struggles to make out. Prince? Bananarama? He couldn't quite tell.

As he strained his ears towards you, the old woman's voice slowly started drifting back to him.

"And then, once the price of oil went up in the 70's, no one was prepared for inflation by the time the 80's rolled around. How old are you, young man? You can't be more than, what, 17?"

Too busy staring after you, he quickly jerked back into the conversation.

"Oh- um, uh, I'm 19, ma'am. 20 in April."

"Right. So you've never known what it's like to live through something as scary as the Great Depression. Well, lemme just tell you-"

And she lost him again, his eyes creeping back over to something more interesting.

You were hunched over the crossword, hair draping over your shoulder and hiding your face. Your scribbling was much more intense now. You must be nearly done.

Quickly, you stuffed the pen in your book and gathered up the tape gun and the extra signs and headed to the back of the store. You gave Steve a small scrunch of the nose as you approached and he silently held up his hand, making it talk as he mouthing"Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah," earning a giggle from you.

You held up the spare supplies in your hands and nodded towards the backroom, checking to make sure that was their correct storage place. Steve gave you a little nod in confirmation and you shot him a small smile, heading off.

Just as you walked past the counter, a page from your crossword fluttered from the book to the ground.

Still on the phone, Steve was unable to call after you, so instead he lengthened the cord again, shimmying around the counter again, phone still clutched in his hand.

"Uh-huh, right, of course," he mindlessly indulged the woman on the other end as he tucked the handset between his shoulder and his ear, kneeling down to collect the dropped page.

Curious to see if you solved it, he flipped it over, inspecting the small boxes.

The puzzle was certainly complete, but it definitely was not correct.

Every word, down and across, was filled with the words "QUIT STARING" over and over again in your perfect script.

A blush crept up his neck and slithered over his cheeks.

He's been caught.

Nearly dropping the phone, he looks up after you.

There you were, peaking through the break room window, smirking back at him.

——————————————————————————

A couple weeks later, and Steve felt like he might pass out.

Tonight's the first night you and Steve would be closing together. Alone. No Robin, no Keith. Just you and him. All afternoon.

He's tried not to think about it — a slow Tuesday night, no one else in the store but you and him, no one else to stop him from doing something rash. Instead, he's been trying all day to keep things as platonic as possible.

But you keep pushing it.

A subtle brush on his arm as you clock in next to him. Your fingers grazing over his as you take a stack of tapes from his hands. Sneaking in between him and a shelf, your back pressing against his front just a bit too hard to be accidental.

He's been really trying to keep his promise with Robin. But his self-restrain was wearing thin.

Somehow, he’s made it all the way to close, only had a few tasks left before he could finally escape your watchful eyes and your sweet perfume and your accidental touches.

Steve quickly locked the doors and you two got to work finishing up any miscellaneous tasks you couldn’t complete earlier.

You were both in the horror section, shelving a plethora of Chopping Mall tapes in a comfortable silence, the soft music over the store's speakers deafened slightly by the rain tapping against the store’s front windows.

"Did you have lunch today, Steve?" you shatter the silence, not turning your attention away from restocking.

He peaks over at you, trying — and failing — to mirror your casual tone.

"Uh… No, I don't think so."

"You don't think so?" you turn to him, and he simply shrugs.

"Forgot it at home," he turns to face you, catching your baffled expression.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you ask, a little hurt.

Another shrug. "Didn't wanna bother you with something stupid like 'I forgot my lunch.'"

You squint your eyes at him a little, expression becoming unreadable. Clasping your fingers into his, and you spin towards the real room.

"C'mere," you huff, pulling him behind you.

Not only is he confused, but now his brain's turned to mush from your hand molded into his.

God, why does he get butterflies just from holding your hand? He's gone soft.

You push open the back door and haul him inside, pushing him gently towards the chair in the back. He sits reluctantly as you spin to grab the brown bag you brought for lunch. Riffling through it for a moment, suddenly you pull out a plump, uneaten orange, waving it beside you with an excited grin.

Taking a step towards him, you nudge his knee with your own.

"Scooch. There's only one chair back here and I do not wanna sit on the ground. Who knows what Keith gets up to back here," you mumble quickly, starting to peel the citrusy fruit, the scent already filling the room.

He scooted over a little, offering half the seat to you, and you plopped down beside him, thigh flush with his. Your fingers work deftly as you finish and discard the peel in the wastebasket next to your feet. Gently, you begin to break apart the slices, offering him the first wedge.

"Listen, I don't wanna eat your lunch," he begins to shove your hand away, much to your annoyance. "You have it."

"We’ll split it, ok.” You give him an adamant look, hoping to persuade him. He still looks skeptical. "I won’t be able to finish it by myself. I’d hate to throw it away," you insist.

Deflating slightly, Steve folds, taking the slice and popping it in his mouth. The zing of the fruit makes his lips pucker a tad and he swears it's one of the sweetest oranges he's ever tasted.

You take one of your own, humming at the taste, before proffering another. He takes the next, another comfortable silence blanketing over the two of you, the slight sound of rain overhead.

The heat of your thigh mixed with the combined smell of you and the orange had him in a tizzy and he was struggling to come up with any topics of conversation.

Only one thing came to mind, and it was a little risky. But, hell, now was as good a time as any, right?

"You're my favorite person, I think," he mumbles around a bite of orange, breaking the silence. He can feel you tense just a bit beside him and he panics, backtracking. "In the store. My favorite coworker."

Smooth.

A small hum leaves you, and he waits for a response.

"Oh really?" you question humorously, something else hiding behind your words. "Even over Robin?"

"Yeah," he shrugs, inspecting the slice of fruit in is hand. "Well, for right now, at least," he teases, earning a light shove from you.

"Shut up," you laugh, no real heat behind your words.

Another silence. Still facing forward, you both smile to yourselves, munching on the orange contentedly. Not having to look you in the eye was bringing Steve some newfound confidence. He took a few more bites and swallowed roughly, choosing his next words carefully.

"You've been my favorite person for a long time. Ever since you started, actually." His voice was soft, timid in a way you've never heard before.

Simultaneously, you both turn in towards each other, a heated stare shared between you.

A beat. You both can’t pull your eyes away from each other.

“Steve?” You speak so softly, Steve thinks he may have imagined it.

“Yeah?” he breathes out.

“You’re staring again.” Your gaze darts down to his lips for a fraction of a second, then back up to his honey eyes.

“So are you.”

Your tongue pops out in a flash, wetting your lips alluringly.

Another beat. Then Steve throws caution to the wind.

Before he can think, he’s leaning into you and pressing a soft, sweet kiss on your plush lips.

He relishes those brief few seconds, eyelids fluttering closed, but he pulls back just as quickly, looking a little panicked.

Had he ruined everything?

You blink, then take in a shaky breath before your grabbing his face with two hands and crushing his lips to yours once more. His nose bumps your cheek and your let out a miniscule whimper at the feel of him. He can taste the orange on your lips, acidic and sweet. Slowly, his tongue presses between your lips, seeking entrance. With a light pull on your jaw, you open up to him.

God, you taste like a thousand oranges, a million sweets, the yummiest thing he’s ever tasted.

Slowly, your hands come to rest on either side of his neck, pulling him closer. Still not satisfied, you desperately shuffle around on the tiny desk chair, knees brushing with his as you attempt to keep your lips locked while closing that last bit of space between you.

Steve leans back just slightly, your face still in his hands.

His eyes scan yours rapidly — making sure this is real — before another brief kiss, then a mumble against your lips. "God, I'm so fucking into you."

You kiss him deeper, smiling against his mouth, before pulling back with a snicker.

"Well, I would hope so, seeing as we're swapping spit in the break room."

He scrunches his nose jokingly at you before pulling you in for another light peck, this time on the corner of your mouth, then another on your cheek, then your nose and your eyebrow and your chin, and suddenly you're giggling and squirming against him, trying hard to pull away and failing miserably.

"St-Steve, stop! You're getting your gross spit all over me," you urge, pressing a hand to the side of his face and pushing him away gently, fondly.

He chuckles a little against the palm of your hand, acquiescing to your protest with a smirk. "Oh, please, you love it."

An unladylike snort leaves you and you stick your tongue out at him mockingly.

His eyes scan over your face again, this time really indulging himself now that he no longer has to hide his affection.

Then, realization hits him.

His face drops and you can't help but mirror his worried expression.

"What are we gonna tell Robs?" he asks, concerned.

He promised her he wouldn't do anything this time. But you were different than all the other girls Robin was friends with. You weren't just some girl asked out for a superficial make-out in the backseat. You were something more than that. Someone special.

Slowly, a smile creeps over your face, confusing Steve all the more. A small giggle bursts from your lips and Steve starts to contemplate again if this is all some dream, some cruel prank.

"Steve," you grab his jaw gently, like he were a clueless little puppy. "She already knows. I told her I liked you last week and she told me to go for it."

His eyes go wide.

"But— But she told me she didn't want me going anywhere near you," he mutters in disbelief, still not understanding.

"Yeah." Another giggle leaves you. "She just wanted to see how long you could last."

Of course. Robin loves to make his life difficult.

"She told me to really lay it on thick, really pull out my charm," you laugh. "You lasted pretty long, too. Longer than we expected. She bet you'd cave in about a week, so look at you! You exceeded her expectations! Robin's gonna be so proud."

A cocky smile graces your lips at his adorable expression. You ruffle his hair unabashedly, planting one last peck to the corner of his mouth, before hopping out of the chair, leaving him in disbelief.

"C'mon, pretty boy, let's lock up and get outta here. We got some catching up to do."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you

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bangtanintotheroom · 2 months

Text

Plug & Play (M)(Teaser)

• Pairing: Guitarist!Hongjoong x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Rock Band!AU, Smut, Strangers to Lovers

• Rating: 18+

• Words (teaser): 742

• Summary: Tonight is the night that you quit being a bystander and make a move towards the guitarist on stage with the devilish smile.

• Warnings/themes: a rock show! 🎸, swearing, drinking, pining, Y/N is a horny bean, Hongjoong and his dangerous smiles 🫠, Yeosang the wingman, flirting, making out, semi-public sex, oral (f. receiving), dirty talk, fingering, hitting it from the back, fingers in mouth, finger sucking, protected sex (be responsible!), clothed sex, multiple orgasms

• Notes: Welp, it’s happened; I fell for yet another leader 🙃 which culminated in me going feral over his recent guitar solo and needing to write something related to it. So here it is! I should have this uploaded by Thursday morning, the latest, since I’ll be out of town for a few days. We’re trucking along pretty quickly, so I have faith! 💕

• Teaser Notes: Teasers are a WIP and will not fully reflect the final draft, warnings and themes are subject to change. If you want to be tagged when the final draft is released, either leave a reply or shoot me an ask!

• Taglist: @minttangerines @minisugakoobies @firesighgirl @swga-ficrecs @hyunjinsjeans

“I’m gonna fuck him.”

Yeosang stared at you from behind the counter, wondering if he heard you right amidst the clinking glasses and rock music.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, I’m gonna fuck him, Yeo.”

“Who?”

You rolled your eyes, rotating ninety degrees to point at the object of your desire on stage.

“Him.”

There was little surprise on your end at the scoff you heard from behind.

“You’re still on that mission?”

Your head whipped around incredulously. “Yes! Why are you shocked by this?”

Yeosang’s expression reeked of indifference as he wiped some bottles down.

“Because I thought you would have given up by now.”

“I don’t give up easily, dude—” Your eyes watched as a certain someone tuned their guitar strings. “—especially when I really want something.”

And you really wanted the man you had in your sights.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks. Are you new here?”

Your head shook at Seonghwa’s question. “No, I don’t even work here. Just helping my friend out while he gets slammed with customers.”

The pretty guitarist smiled softly.

“That’s very nice of you.”

Your cheeks couldn’t help but warm a tiny bit, shooting him the same look. “Thank you. He has to listen to enough of my ranting at home, might as well ease his pain somehow.”

Yunho blinked curiously before asking, “You’re roommates?”

“Mhm.”

He made a sound of understanding, yet another voice cut in before he could say anything.

“Thought you looked familiar.”

You focused your sight on Hongjoong, recognition on his attractive face that had your heart beating a little faster.

“Me?”

“Yeah—” His mouth quirked. “—thought I saw you hanging around Yeosang the last few times we were here.”

Oof. You weren’t sure how to react to him basically saying that he recognized you from afar. It wasn’t a bad thing, at all, considering your end goal, but you were surprised he even remembered with the amount of people in this building.

All you could muster was a scratch of the back of your neck, trying not to fluster further under his gaze.

“Haha, that’s me, always bugging him.”

Hongjoong gave a soft laugh, eyes scrunching in humor. It only made you more bashful, trying your best not to rub the toe of your boot into the ground.

Noticing that Yunho was roped into a conversation with the others now, it just left you alone with the lead guitarist.

A window of opportunity!

But for some reason, you couldn’t muster the words to continue speaking with him. Even though he continued to acknowledge you with his gaze, your eyes averted to watch the stage behind the dining tables.

“Hey.”

Your ears perked up, looking up to see Hongjoong eyeing you with curiosity.

“What’s your name?”

A lifesaver.

You had to hold back the large grin you wanted to give, settling for a polite smile instead.

“Y/N.”

“So…”

You turned around, hearing the door shut and lock before Hongjoong approached you, lips curled akin to someone ready to indulge in the sweetest dessert of their life.

“Is this a much better spot?”

Your mouth twisted in humor, nodding as you replied with delight, “Much better.”

“Good.”

The both of you looked into each other’s eyes, bodies thrumming with energy that was ready to be unleashed at any moment. Although, no one made a move for a moment.

That is, until Hongjoong chose to take a step forward, leaving the tiniest of spaces between you two.

Having him so close directly in front of you had even more of an effect than before, his fresh scent invading your nostrils while your heart pumped faster. It got worse when a hand came up to brush some hair behind your ear, his touch making you bite your lip.

Hongjoong noticed your shift and chuckled, “Nervous?”

You shook your head.

“No, just…excited.”

His grin only widened at your admission, sliding his hand down gently cradle your jaw.

“Same. Didn’t think I’d ever get to be up close and personal with Yeosang’s pretty friend.”

Although you were melting inside at the compliment, your eyebrow raised in amazement.

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“So why didn’t you make a move first?”

You hoped to trip him up, but the guitarist didn’t seem fazed, straight teeth almost blinding you.

“I wanted to see how badly you wanted me.”

His low response brought a mixture of exasperation and lust to you, your eyes rolling as you huffed, “You rockstars and your egos.”

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falling-star-cygnus · 2 months

Text

somebody reblogged my appleradio post and tagged it as "not a ship" ...

anyway, budding qpr Lucifer and Alastor because i love them :D Duckie Deer pt.1 {pt.2}

{Lucifer is hunched over his new desk in Charlie's hotel, his grin bordering on maniacal as he puts the finishing touches on his newest rubber duck. In a flourish, he holds the little thing high- or as high as he can feasibly reach anyway- in the air}

"Now presenting..."

{The King of Hell pauses for dramatic effect, despite not actually having any audience except the judgmental stares of his scattered ducks}

"The Wendigo Peace-Offering Red Radio Rubber Duck! ...That switches hands!"

{Lucifer grins a bit more genuinely as the little thing teleports from one hand to the other, twisting into the shadows between his fingers and out to his palm. The more tolerable version of it's intended recipient, he thinks}

{For the sake of Charlie, he had begrudgingly decided to try and befriend the agitating Radio Demon. After all, if they were going to be sharing the space here for the foreseeable future it only made sense for them to get along, right? Or at the very least, try to tolerate each other}

{And what better way to do that then with a rubber duck?}

"Heh heh heh..."

{The king chucks the duck at the door}

"Who am I kidding, nobody wants a rubber duck look-a-like. That's weird, it's a weird gift!"

{As Lucifer rants, he fails to notice the rubber contraption nailing the object of his ire in the forehead. It bounces with a squeak into red tipped hands}

"I'd argue talking to yourself is weirder, your highness."

{That familiar mocking drawl and static covering, the sarcasm on his title, it causes the king to whirl around. Alastor is indeed standing in front of his door, pinching the horn of the duck between his claws with a raised eyebrow}

"Alastor! Just the annoy- uh- just the demon I wanted to see. At this exact moment. ...How much of that did you hear?"

{Smooth. Totally nailed that.}

{One of the hair tufts upon Alastor's head twitches in his direction, confirming Lucifer's suspicion that they were, in fact, ears. It's embarrassing how much effort it takes to stifle the coo that wants to erupt from him at the subconscious movement}

{He has a feeling the Radio Demon wouldn't take kindly to it}

"Hm... Is there any particular reason for this... look-a-like, as you called it? I can't imagine anyone in either of circles would appreciate a duck of my visage."

{Oh good. So just the last part, then. He could still salvage this}

"It's for you!"

{…Damnit.}

{Lucifer sounded too eager. Waaay too eager, actually, if Alastor's steadily raising eyebrow was anything to go by. The king clears his throat}

"Ahem. Uh- it's for you, actually. A peace offering! Since we're going to be around each a lot more often, I figured- well, we might as well try to get along- right? For Charlie's sake. Not- not because you're tolerable. Or because I like you. Heh. No."

{The deer demon blinks slowly, raising the rubber duck up to his eye by it's horn. His perpetual smile- seriously, is that thing stitched on or something? -looks painfully strained.}

"Is that so?"

{His voice is less staticky then usual, which encourages the King to keep going. Lucifer nearly lunges forward, grabbing Alastor's hands and adjusting the duck to rest in one of the Radio Demon's palms}

{He feels a little bad for the flinch and hitch if static that comes with it, but he ignores it for Alastor's sake. He'd like a comment about that even less then a comment about his adorable ears}

"What are you do-" "It switches hands!"

{Alastor quiets at that, his glare softening just slightly around the edges with a blink. Again, Lucifer takes the small allowance and runs with it. He uses his thumbs to push against the joint of Alastor's fingers, furthering flattening his palms; an awkward laugh spills from him}

"Hah- Give it a try! Just- think about it switching and-"

{The duck slinks into Alastor's other palm before the king can finish his sentence. It goes back and forth a few times, filling the deer's eyes with a sense of unguarded wonder that has Lucifer's breath hitching}

{It's gone as soon as Alastor remembers his company}

{The Radio Demon pulls his hands away from Lucifer's, keeping the duck tucked securely in his hand. The king tries not to mourn the loss, both of his surprisingly warm fingers and of the glimpse into his head Lucifer was so graciously privy to today}

{Baby steps, he reminds himself. Something dangerously hopeful stirs in his chest}

"I see..."

{Alastor looks, on some level, like he's lost his footing. He came in here expecting to trade insults like usual, no doubt, especially after getting bonked with a rubber duck of all things upon entering}

{And instead he's left cradling a gift made in his image}

"Well! It'd certainly be rude to refuse such a thoughtful gift from his majesty. Even if it's a silly one."

{It's a feeble attempt at regaining control at best, they both know it. Lucifer sticks his hand out with a flat expression.}

"If you don't like it, give it back."

{Alastor's smile tightens, just like his grip on his rubber duck}

"Now, now, I just said it'd be rude to refuse. Surely your manner aren't lowering themselves to your height?"

{And just like that, normalcy is restored as Lucifer sputters at the jab. The king stomps forward, maybe childishly but no one who matters is around to judge him-}

"What did you even come up here for? If I recall, your 'radio tower' is on the other side of the other side of the-"

{The deer demon had stepped on a wild rubber duck in his subtle attempt to keep distance between them and with a burst of static, Alastor had begun to fall backwards}

{Lucifer acts on instinct and summons his cane,- he's pushed his luck with touch already today- bracing it behind the wendigo's back.}

{It leaves the two in an... awkward situation to say the least. Alastor's long legs pulled out from under him and his lanky torso held up purely by the thin rod of his staff.}

{It leaves Lucifer looking down for once to make eye contact}

"...who's the short one now?"

{Alastor melts into shadows, still holding the rubber duckie look-a-like in one hand as he reappears behind the king. He can feel the radio demon's hand on his collar preventing him from falling flat on his face.}

"Still you, my friend."

{...friend. Lucifer could get used to that.}

#i just think they're neat #if anyone likes this i'll make a part 2 #appleradio #radioapple #duckiedeer #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel 2024 #lucifer's rubber ducks #alastor the radio demon #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer

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keyotos · 10 months

Text

disgusting

summary ⎯ after a long day, all you want to do is relax with your boyfriend.

tags ⎯ gn!reader. tooth-rotting fluff. ONE minor innuendo. basically alhaitham is in love.

tana's words ⎯ hi guys sorry for the mini hiatus but i'm bored and i am going to write this very quick and very simple drabble just bc

"why do they always have to run?" you complain as you settle onto the couch that alhaitham was quietly reading on. "i mean, it's never gonna do anything. like, we are the matra. we can catch up to you at any second, but noooo, running will most definitely allow you to evade us," sarcasm dripped from your voice.

alhaitham puts down his book and turns his attention towards you. earlier that night, when you arrived home, you barely even greeted him. now, alhaitham is not one to get clingy due to the fact that you didn't greet him with as much affection as usual, but he was missing you quite a bit (not that he'd ever let you know that), so he was concerned.

the affection you had given him prior tonight was a chaste kiss on the lips. it wasn't much, but it still meant a lot to him, whether he showed it or not. tonight, you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. ridiculous, alhaitham is well aware, but it still raised some concern within him. your actions meant you probably had a stressful day, which made alhaitham want to know more.

when did he start finding himself enthralled with your very essence? there was no switch to define when his feels for you developed to more than just friends. only a heavy beating in his heart when he was around you. only a feeling of airiness in his chest when he spoke to you.

"what happened today?" alhaitham asked calmly, being the complete opposite to your frazzled antics while describing your hectic day. to help you relax, he began to rub his hands up and down your thigh. you melted into his touch instantly, letting out a deep breath.

"oh you know. the usual research fraud. wasn't even that bad actually. he was probably going to get like, what, two months of suspension and eight months of community service? better fate than most. but instead of surrendering, he chose to run all the way from sumeru city to gandharva ville!" you ranted, throwing your hands in the air to indicate your frustrations. "and he even tried to hide. from the matra. from me! like, you're cornered like a deer here, might as well surrender and make it easier for everyone else."

you rubbed the thigh that didn't occupy alhaitham's hand, "also, i'm sore as hell. all that running from sumeru city to gandharva ville and then all the way back has me spent. i feel like i'm not gonna be able to walk for days."

alhaitham lightly scoffed in response. you were tough, one of the matra's best at that. alhaitham could also think of instances where you couldn't walk, yet pulled through for the next day (ignoring his advice to stay home). however, he wasn't going to comment about that at the moment.

his gaze never left you the entire time. alhaitham was so incredibly focused on your face, studying you and focusing on you like a researcher would, hoping to never let something as brilliant as you go. his eyes traced the movement of your mouth every time you groaned; the way you squeezed your eyes shut when you raved about another frustration; the way your hands moved sporadically through the air.

again, when did go from simply observing you to essentially admiring your every move? and why is it so easy to do so?

"hey," you dragged out the word and poked his cheek. "were you even listening to me? or were you just gawking at me?"

alhaitham is snapped out of his daze, refocusing back on your words. well, he was always focused on your words. just not at this moment. "of course i was listening," alhaitham rolls his eyes teasingly, "if he ran all the way to gandharva ville, maybe he had more to hide. why else would he go through all the trouble? or maybe your face scared him so much he felt he had to run far, far away."

you rolled your eyes, "very funny, acting grand sage. are you trying to get involved in matra business now?"

"quite the contrary," alhaitham countered, "just wanted to get involved in my partner's life. is that a crime?"

"yes," you replied instantaneously. "you'll be arrested now. hope you know that you're getting the life sentence," you grinned, grabbing his wrists and placing them by your hips. you were caged underneath him, smiling wide as ever.

alhaitham finds it hard to not smile back at your antics. most of the time, he tried to keep a stoic composure to keep people away and hide his intentions. but with you, he finds that it all melts away, leaving it only you and him and nothing but bliss.

you were the first to break the silence, "so... were you actually listening to me or were you just making inferences based on what i was saying earlier?" your voice was nothing above a whisper, letting it be known that it was only you and him in the house.

"'course i was listening to you," his voice matched your soft tone, words filled with sincerity and admiration, "how could i not with a voice as sweet as yours?"

and that's when you lose it. you lose it for two reasons: alhaitham was teasing you and you knew that during your entire rant you sounded anything but sweet. malice and exasperation flowed through you as you spoke about today's events. alhaitham was simply pulling your leg, the bastard.

but, that did prove that he was listening. only he would be able to distinct the way your words moved through the air, tainting it with annoyance and irritation. only he would know.

you shoved alhaitham off of you, sending him back to the other side of the couch. "you're disgusting!" you giggled and shoved his shoulder, "i've had enough of you. i'm going to bed," you grabbed a pillow from the couch and shoved your face in it, hoping that alhaitham wouldn't be able to see your blush.

but of course, alhaitham sees through you yet again. "okay. i'll see you soon," he picked up his book and continued to read, knowing that you'd be next to him in a matter of seconds. if you weren't in the matra, you would have had a fulfilling career as a researcher with your curiosity.

"what are you reading?" you rest your head on his shoulder, peering at the pages. you let the pillow that you were holding go, now discarded to the side as you moved towards your boyfriend.

alhaitham closed the book to show you the title, which you read out loud, "remarkably bright creatures. taking a break from nonfiction?" you turned your head to look at him. that feeling alhaitham had in the beginning of your relationship came back, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. no matter how many years you two have been together, alhaitham thinks that he will never be able to shake off the feeling of being in love with you.

"needed to replenish my pallet," he shrugged simply. his vagueness made you even more curiouser, alhaitham's goal in the first place. you could chalk this up to him trying to engage your interests again, but really, alhaitham just wanted your affection. as stupid as it sounds, alhaitham is a man who (at the end of the day) just wants his partner's touch.

you let out a hum and move closer towards him. you had your knees raised up to your chest, reading the words alongside him. your arms were touching, your head almost leaned onto his shoulder.

once you found yourself fascinated enough with the novel, alhaitham took this as his chance to get you closer. he grabbed your waist and pulled you into him, now so close that he could feel the air exhale from your nose. you, too distracted from the words in front of you, didn't seem to pay any mind.

"'as a general rule, i like holes,'" alhaitham began to read from the book, causing you to subvert your gaze towards his face, "'a hole at the top of my tank gives me freedom. but i do not like the hole in her heart. she only has one, not three, like me. tova’s heart. i will do everything i can to help her fill it.'”

"you know," your fingers dance along the bicep that you've curled under, "this octopus reminds me of a certain someone. impassive on the outside, yet he cares about others on the inside."

"comparing me to a sea animal now? i'm surprised you've hit a new low," alhaitham teases you. he accepts your compliment by kissing you on your jaw.

"shut up!" you swat at the same bicep you were just relaxed under, "if i was really comparing you to a sea creature, you'd be a sea lion. cute on the outside, but horrible on the inside," you exaggerated.

alhaitham smirks, "you think i'm cute?"

you immediately notice where you've went wrong. you can't hide your flustered expression from alhaitham this time. you wouldn't be surprised if the bastard planned this. "i also said you were horrible."

"but you also said i was cute," he retorted as if he was boasting.

"emphasis on was. maybe not anymore," you couldn't help but smile at your response.

alhaitham pressed a kiss to your temple, "really? not at all?" he raised an eyebrow as he looked down into your eyes. they say eyes are the window to the soul, and alhaitham is one to think that it is true. he didn't really believe it before he met you, but now, everytime alhaitham looks at you it's as if he can understand everything you're trying to say based on one gaze.

alhaitham was already leaning forward when you decided to kiss him, like he knew that it was coming. cocky, you wanted to think. but you know that's not the truth.

alhaitham knows you so well that it's disgustingly endearing.

hi guys!! sorry i've been away for so long. my writer's block has been so bad and it also doesn't help that i've began my six-week volunteer program as well as other work. i'll try to regulate updates to be asap, but i still dk bc of my crazy schedule. hopefully i'll be able to update more often, but until then!

#tana writes (∗´ ᨔ `∗)#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #al haitham x reader #alhaitham fluff #tell a friend to tell a friend... SHES BACKKKKKK #for now at least idk my schedule is hella wild rn #i hope i got his character right bc im fairly new to writing abt genshin #haven't played that game since 2021

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