#whether i have to go to the store to pick it up. excuse you ?????? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

en-gelic · 8 hours

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bubblegum ✸ 엔하이픈

syn. to be loved by them. gn. idolxnon-idol, fluff ⋆ wc 873 ! warnings. skinship, kisses ୨୧ so sweet like bubblegum ʚɞ BOOKSHELF! ⋆

🗯 taglist : @cholexc @07sleepykatz @seunghancore (ask or comment to be added !)

To be loved by lee heeseung meant he would continuously remind you of how much he loved you by kissing you in his favourite places— your neck, your fingers and your jawline. Tying your hair when you were working or busy, and staring holes through your back when you were applying lip gloss, eagerly waiting to wipe it off. Late night calls you would have when he couldn't sleep resulted in you reciting your notes to him, which usually had him asleep in minutes. If it were you struggling to fall asleep, he would sing to you causing you to unconsciously end up staying up just to listen to his voice. You made him cover any song possible and got exclusive covers just for the two of you. He would show off in front of the members whenever you would watch him game.

To be loved by park jongseong meant him sending you options for your hair dye at unholy hours of the morning and coming over extra early to help you with it. Constantly asking whether you had eaten and whether your work was going well. He would be over at your house, scolding you on eating too much fast food and making meal preps for whenever you were too busy. Consulted you before buying anything, which was a terribly bad option as you were the type to encourage anything but kitchen appliances that aren't coffee makers. He would also send you any flavour of coffee he was able to find and constantly expressed his love through sending you gifts wherever he was.

To be loved by sim jaeyun meant him letting you tie his hair into little ponytails even if you tugged to hard. Giving you piggy-backs and using your height difference as an advantage when he wanted to tease you. He would ruffle your hair a lot, which was a habit of his you hated the most. Kissing your head before he went anywhere and teaching you how to fish was his favourite things to do. Whenever he saw an opportunity, he took random photos of you that you never saw until he posted it and defended himself by the fact that they were quite good.

To be loved by park sunghoon meant picking his jewelry— especially glasses and taking any accessory you could find from his collection. Calling you every hour when he was abroad just to ask you whether you were fine and giving you any shirt with his name on it and making you wear it when you were going out with friends to show his 'dominance' he had said to defend himself. He would pout if you didn't say 'I love you' before ending the call and demanded a kiss as an apology. Would send you photos of scenery when he was away and had the habit of eating food that you like on your behalf.

To be loved by kim sunoo meant spending evenings binge watching popular shows while hating most of their plots. Getting you to watch horror movies with him because you were the clingiest when you were scared. Applying your lipgloss for you to give the reason that since he put it on, he can take it off and washing your hair whenever you didn't feel like doing it. Peppering your face with kisses in the excuse that his lips were like free skincare. Would organise your wardrobe every other week, complaining about how disorganised you were. He would be very serious when it comes to not eating until the movie began and would slap your hands away if you tried to eat before it played.

To be loved by yang jungwon meant him picking up souvenirs from anywhere he want and matching clothes with you on purpose but acting as if he didn't mean to. Would send a message before going live to make sure you were able to attend every live if you could. Buys you everything that you like in the convenience store and dumps it all in your house whenever you weren't around, leaving a note he scribbled before leaving. He would create random nicknames for you and send an English 'word of the week' to help with the two of you learning English.

To be loved by nishimura riki meant inside jokes which only the two of you could understand. Fiddling with his rings when he held your hand and raiding his closet whenever you got the chance. He would purposely buy things for 'himself' that he knew you would like, and pretending to be irritated when you take them. Putting things in high places you can't climb up to get just so you could ask him for help. Constantly getting him to draw for you, no matter how many times he says that he's not that good. Adoring your cats whenever he came over and making sure that they weren't bothering you when you were busy with work. Trying to lose every game for you because you were too competitive. Back hugs and cuddles with his body either towering or covering yours which was the best form of body heat in winter. He habitually pretends to not see you since you were much shorter than him.

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mishkakagehishka · 2 months

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Why does drogerie markt charge me for shipping even when i choose the "pick up in-store" option, all these germans are doing is robbing me

#using dm's legal name bc what is this why do i have to pay an additional 4euro whether i have the product arrive at my doorstep or #whether i have to go to the store to pick it up. excuse you ??????

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adventuringblind · 22 days

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Biology Sucks

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Reader has really bad periods and is embarrassed about it. Oscar just wants to help.

Warnings: Really bad periods and everything that comes with them

Notes: To the requester, I feel you on the bad period thing. I hope this brings you the comfort you need to get through your next one!

Side Note: My inbox is open if you wanna come chat with me :)

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It hurts. A familiar hurt, unfortunately, and she's not sure whether that's better or worse yet. Of all the things that could've happened on her date, it had to be this.

She excuses herself from the table. Oscar gives her a concerned look, but she waves it off. "Just need to freshen up." Oscar nods, but he doesn't look convinced.

Eight months, and he already knows how to read her like a book.

She ends up leaving her date early because she already knows how this ends. It'll look like she's gone to war and got stabbed lower than necessary. It also currently feels that way, and she's ready to throw up her guts if that's what it takes to make it stop.

Oscar texts her. Then he calls her. Eventually deciding she probably has fallen asleep if she wasn't feeling well and decides to do something for her in the morning.

The same event had happened last month, and she'd avoided him for the entire week. The brief topic of periods came up because he asked if that was it, and she'd told him they were considerably bad.

The benefit of having sisters is that he at least knows the basics here. He throws on some shoes in the early hours of the morning and heads out the door to the convenience store.

Oscar makes a guess from the information he's gleaned on what kinds of snacks she would like. He also throws a text to his mum to double-check because lord knows if he messes this up, she'll come for his head.

It's just past ten when he arrives at her flat and unlocks the door with the spare key. He questions if this could be considered breaking and entering since he technically didn't know the spare key would be hidden inside the bottom of a fake plant. Things to worry about later, he supposes.

He finds her sprawled out of the bed, a bottle of painkillers open on the side table. He drops his own bags on the grounds softly so he doesn't wake her.

Especially not when she's shivering in her sleep and he can see the sticky red coating the sheets. He determines to let her sleep until he has everything ready to clean her up. There is no point in letting her sit in it while awake for no reason.

He remembers specifically making trips to the store with his mum for bed sheets when his sisters had similar problems. He just wishes she felt comfortable telling him about it. Heaven help is was some bastard making her feel like this is gross and not some natural part of life.

He admits openly to punching one person in his lifetime. The boy who was picking on his sister for bleeding through her shorts while he was home for Christmas one year. He made the boys nose bleed and called him gross for it. Oscar tries not to think about what he would do now that he's bulked up.

He starts the bath, finds her extra clothes, including his own hoodie, and attempts to locate her spare sheets. He feels bad going through all her cupboards, but he doesn't want to wake her up to ask.

When everything is all set up, he sets himself down gently beside and caresses the side of her face until she wakes.

Initially, there is a look of terror on her face until she realizes it's just Oscar and not an intruder. "How'd you get in?"

"Your spare key wasn't hard to find."

She takes a breath to settle her heart. That's when she feels what's underneath her... and beside her... all around her, really. "I-" the tears are pathetic.

"It's okay, really! My sister's had some bad ones as did my mum. Can I touch you?"

The pit in her stomach ends up settling in confusion. She tilts her head. "You're not, like, disgusted?"

"It's biology, isn't it? Natural? I see no reason to be disgusted." It the certainty of which he says it that make the tears start.

Oscar coos at her, waiting until she's calmed down to set about getting her cleaned up. "I ran you a bath already. I figured you'd want it warm and bubbly."

She cries again. Not because she's upset - far from it - but nobody has ever done this for her. "I'm not sure what I did to deserve this."

"To be fair, I don't think you ask to bleed every month."

While she's in the bath, Oscar strips the bed down and recreates it how he thinks it should go. The key word here is thinks. His eye for aesthetics isn't the best, but he makes it work regardless.

Soon, she's out of the bath and in his hoodie. "Feeling any better?"

"A bit... thank you."

"Don't thank me yet, I'm not the best in the kitchen, so this might actually kill you instead."

She hesitate when he sits down on the couch and pats the spot beside him. "Aren't you worried I might bleed on you?"

"As far as I'm concerned, you could bleed on all my clothes and I'd happily purchase new ones if it means you'll come cuddle with me."

She relents and curls up in Oscar's lap. He turns on a movie and they both end up falling asleep to it.

Easy to say it's the best she's ever slept on her period. And when she wakes up to Oscar purchasing a new pair of sweats, he smiles at her. "I figure if it will help you stress less, I will get some extra clothes just in case." No hints of judgment or annoyance. Just Oscar trying to help.

Yeah, maybe periods don't have to be so miserable while he's around.

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lunarmoves · 10 months

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one of the things you’ll never get over is just how teasing the daycare attendant can be.

whether it may be through pokes at how tiny you are in comparison to them, little flirts that set your face aflame yet are completely innocuous, or putting you in situations where you’re forced to rely on them, the daycare attendant seems to find delight in your many different reactions and emotions. you’re not quite sure why. but it has grown just the teensiest bit frustrating. you’ve done your best to try to retaliate and turn the tables on them, but none of your efforts seem to work on them like they do on you. they are, at times, very difficult to read—what with the static smile and all. not like a robot can blush, either.

it’s gotten to the point where you’re willing to try anything—and after watching some parents greeting their kids at the door for pickup, you finally get an idea that you think might just work in your favor. so long as you pay extra close attention to their reactions.

it’s finally after hours for the daycare; the last child had been picked up a few minutes ago. you and sun are wandering about, gathering up stray toys and crayons. you notice one of the small coloring tables has an unfortunate glob of glitter glue pasted to it and call out to sun to grab his attention. your eyes watch him like a hawk’s.

“can you grab me a rag and some cleaning spray, baby?” it’s said as casually as you can make it.

you have to bite your lip to suppress a smile when sun freezes in place for a moment, then spins his head around properly to look right at you. “i beg your pardon? what did you say?”

you pinch at the side of your thigh to stop a smile from breaking out on your face and busy yourself with picking up more crayons. you know he heard you perfectly. robot hearing, and all. “i said can you grab me a rag and some cleaning spray. baby?”

wide, white eyes stare at you for what feels like an eternity, then his rays do a delighted little spin. he straightens up and gives you a salute. “can do, friend! i'll be back in a jiffy!”

you snicker to yourself at the enthusiasm in his voice. “thank you my love.”

sun makes a sound—a strange sound you’ve not yet heard before—that you honestly can’t identify. a whirr of sorts, maybe. then he bounces off to the supply closet tucked in the corner of the daycare, where all the cleaning materials are stored. you pretend to bend down to grab another crayon, your eyes flicking up to follow sun's movement. once he disappears around a playset, you take a short, quiet moment to stuff your fist in your mouth and bite down a giggle. you manage to collect yourself right as he returns, your hands dumping the crayons you've collected into their designated bin.

"you're in a mood today!" sun says brightly as he hands you the spray bottle of cleaner and an old, blue rag. he sways animatedly from side to side and clasps his hands together in front of his chassis once his hands are free.

"i don't know what you're talking about," you reply as straight-faced as you can and crouch down next to the table, "honey," you add after a short second. you give the glob a few sprays of the cleaning solution, then start to diligently work away at it with the cloth. at least you have an excuse to turn your face away from his perceptive gaze.

sun's shadow looms over you. there's a clicking sound as his faceplate rotates. "i think you do, friend!"

"what," you snort and peer up at him from the corner of your eye, "you want me to stop?"

sun's head tilts farther to the side and his smile seems to get larger. "on the contrary, actually!"

you can't deny that his words make you flush slightly, so you turn back to the table to swipe your rag against it a final time. can't let him turn the tide on you like this. you're saved from responding to him when the daycare lights suddenly go out to signify closing, hoping against all hope that moon hadn't been paying attention.

those hopes get quickly dashed when you notice the table you'd finished cleaning has taken on a red glow, and long fingers abruptly grip onto your shoulders to tug you up and spin you around.

"what," moon hisses lowly at you, face close to your own as he stares directly at you with wide maroon eyes, "are you doing?"

"me?" you answer innocently, your hands holding the cloth up between the both of your chests as though in a feeble attempt at a defensive wall. the rest of the daycare is dark and it's only by moon's eyes and the dim light from the windows leading to the rest of the pizzaplex that you're able to see him. "i'm not doing anything, sweetheart."

"that," he emphasizes and gives you a little shake, "is not nothing. you're up to something."

"i promise i'm not buttercup," is your smooth reply. moon twitches slightly—his grip gets a teeny bit tighter. and there's something in the way he's holding himself that lets you know he's more affected by your words than he lets on. the corners of your mouth curl up slightly, but you force them back down to maintain your innocuous look.

moon only growls at you, voice rasping out a "troublemaker."

you stick your tongue out at him. "cutie pie."

"nuisance."

"darling."

"brat."

"snookums." your smile starts to creep back up your face when you notice he's slowly drawing closer in the heat of the little back and forth.

"little gremlin." his expression dares you to retaliate.

you choose not to respond right away, letting his last pet name hang in the air for a quiet, tense moment. your eyes stare directly into his own fuzzy ones and you take in a deep breath to prepare yourself for what you're about to say.

"kitten." you grin wildly when moon absolutely recoils and releases you from his grip. immediately, you latch onto the sound of his servos whirring in his chassis—a cooling system kicking into place. and that, you realize, is their form of blushing.

"oh?" your eyes squint upwards in delight as moon just looks at you with wide eyes, his hat low on his face so much so that you only see the lower halves of his optics. "embarrassed? my little kitten?"

"shut up!" moon hisses at you and it makes you finally break down into laughter at the irony. his hands twitch sporadically before he stills them. "pain in the neck! annoyance!"

"kitten! kitten kitten kit— WAJHSDKFJDF!" you shriek as you narrowly dodge a swipe from moon and immediately make a break for the door. he growls something rough at you in lighthearted jest, but you can't hear him over the sounds of your loud laughter and your pounding footsteps against the floor.

and as moon chases you out of the daycare—your little victory triumphantly stashed under your belt— the knowledge that they have a certain weakness for adoring pet names gets stored in a mischievous part of your brain for later.

#monty(person) if u see this dont look at me #dca #dca x reader #fnaf moon x reader #moon x reader #fnaf sun x reader #sun x reader #the daycare attendant #daycare attendant x reader #fnaf moondrop x reader #moondrop x reader #fnaf sundrop x reader #fnaf sundrop #sundrop x reader #fnaf moondrop #moon x y/n #sun x y/n #shay scribbles daydreams

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caelivir · 2 months

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red lips, dying for a kiss | rayne ames

— synopsis. in which rayne discovers that red lip combos are his weakness.

— pairing. rayne ames x fem!reader

— genres. university au, friends-ish to lovers, rayne has a little bit of a crush

— word count. 2.3k

— warnings. very brief violence mention in the beginning, alcohol consumption (rayne and reader are 21 in this), making out (i tried to keep it brief), ooc rayne but he’s kinda drunk so

— notes. breaking theme for this one but it’s okay. i wanted to drop this on valentine’s day… clearly that didn’t work out. also as i go to post this hidden lights reached 1k notes which is absolutely insane to think of. thank you for giving it so much love. anyway, happy 100 followers! thanks for sticking with me. enjoy!

dedicated to all the rayne girlies. i pray we find (or already have) a man like him. ♡

ryoh’s parties are always a bad idea. rayne can’t count the number of times something has gone wrong. cops show up. someone locks every single bathroom from the inside. a dumbass jumps off the roof and into the pool. any incident you could think of has probably happened. the last one rayne went to nearly got him screwed over when he fought against a guy picking on his brother, and it was not pretty (for the other guy) to say the least.

from that moment on, rayne had made the decision to never attend another one of ryoh’s parties. it doesn’t matter who begged him or what the circumstances were. no one was going to change his mind on that.

unfortunately, ryoh grantz would not have that. it took three days and a two hundred dollar bribe to convince rayne to go because who would he be if not taking advantage of the rich.

so that’s where he finds himself now, standing in a circle with his friends as music blasts in ryoh’s mansion. they talk about who knows what as rayne wishes he could go home. he has to see it out though because this would be the easiest two hundred dollars he would ever make.

his second red solo cup of the night is filled with some unknown (but surprisingly delicious) concoction that sits untouched. he swirls the cup around in his hand, his eyes darting around the room for an escape.

rayne chugs his entire drink down, setting the empty cup on the first surface he finds before mumbling an excuse of having to use the bathroom, not caring whether his friends heard it or not. he stops by the kitchen to rummage through a cooler, skin freezing as he digs through the ice. he finds two cans of a beer brand that he likes.

he weaves through the crowd in the living room, trying his best to not bump into anyone or spill any drinks because the last thing he needs is another altercation.

unfortunately for him, life always has a curveball in store for him.

“hey, look! (y/n)’s here!” someone had yelled, causing people to push closer towards the front door. the flow carries him closer despite his protests.

the half blonde finds you easily. it’s hard to miss your bright smile, even in a room surrounded by dozens. a crowd surrounds you and your group of friends. they greet you with hellos, offer drinks, and fight for your attention. you try your best to address everyone as you and your friends inch closer to the dance floor.

rayne knows you. your friend groups overlap often so he was bound to meet you at one point. you're popular around campus, known for your friendly nature, kind acts, and most of all, you're known for your beauty. he hears about a new attempt to gain your affection almost weekly. you never seem to accept them for some odd reason. it doesn't matter who it is. the d1 basketball prodigy? the rich girl in your philosophy class? they'd be rejected all the same. your lack of care for relationships has sparked up rumors, but even those never seem to faze you.

as for his opinion on you, rayne acutally likes you, which is a rare feat considering that the half-blonde cannot stand the presence of most people. but in this case, he likes you. he has the smallest of crushes that he wouldn't dare to admit to anyone except his brother, maybe.

in the times your paths had crossed, you had been an easy person to be around, never doing anything to irritate him and always trying to include him in every conversation and activity. it makes him feel all warm inside. the thought of it brings the ghost of a smile onto his face.

he also can't deny that you are indeed one of the most beautiful people that he's ever come across. you would have to be a fool to try and deny that. it's a little shallow on his part to like you partly for your looks, but he can't help it when your smile has the power to blind angels.

"rayne?" your head tilts, surprise written all over your face. he locates two shots in your hands. "woah, i'm surprised you're here! people said you wouldn't come to these anymore!"

rayne is barely to pick up the sound of your voice over all the music. "got paid to be here." he speaks loudly, avoiding yelling as much as he can.

"well, that's one way to get someone to come to a party." you giggle.

it's at this point where rayne closely inspects your face. his eyes are immediately drawn to your lips, colored in a combination of reds. he's never seen it on you before, and paired with the rest of the makeup on your face, it stands out, commands attention.

and it looks… really fucking good. rayne takes the sight of you in fully. yeah, you look really fucking good tonight. the half-blonde gulps, forcing his eyes back up to your face.

"take this with me!" you urge rayne, holding out a plastic shot glass to him.

unwilling to bring himself to say no to you, rayne sighs, accepting it. the two of you raise your glasses up in a silent toast before pressing the plastic to his lips, tilting his head back, and letting the alcohol slide down his throat. it burns. it tastes horrid on his tastebuds. the half-blonde scrunches his nose in disgust, and you take the empty glass from him, how you went unbothered by such a disgusting beverage is beyond him.

as much as rayne wishes he could be with you, he desperately longs to find someplace quiet. the bass of the music pounds against his head. "i'll see you around, (y/n). have fun tonight. be safe." rayne says.

"oh okay. see you rayne." you frown, but maybe that's just the lighting messing with him. he swears there's disappointment laced in your voice, but that could also just be the alcohol playing games with him.

rayne makes his way upstairs. he prays that he won't barge into people having sex. luckily for him, it's still early, and the room that he chooses, the one at the very end of the hall, is empty. he relaxes the moment he locks the door as if a weight was being lifted off him.

the half-blonde sets his unopened beers onto the nightstand and lies on the made bed. he stares at the ceiling for fifteen minutes, contemplating his life choices. his thoughts drift to you and your gorgeous lips, but he’s quick to dismiss them. when he’s finished with that, he cracks open his first beer, leaving a ring of condensation on the nightstand, and opens up his phone.

the next hour or so is spent watching compilations of bunnies and sipping on his beers. it’s perfectly fine like this. save for the bass of the music bouncing against the walls, it’s peaceful. he feels the effects of the alcohol he drank humming in his veins. it puts him into a lighter mood. however, that peace is disturbed when there’s a loud pounding on the door.

“what the hell?” rayne mumbles under his breath. did someone confuse this room for the bathroom? the half-blonde pulls himself out of bed, unlocks the door, and cracks it open just a little bit to see who it is.

“rayne, is that you? oh my god, please let me in.” you beg, clasping your hands together in prayer.

confused, but without any complaint, he allows you into the room, shutting the door behind him and locking it.

you practically collapse on the edge of the bed, and rayne can sense that something is amiss.

“are you alright?” he asks cautiously, standing a foot away from you.

“do you ever just get sick of people?” you ponder suddenly, shooting to sit straight up.

“sure.” rayne shrugs, still unmoving from his spot.

“you can’t tell anyone i told you this,” you point at him with narrowed eyes, voice slurred. “swear you won’t.”

“i won’t.”

“good.” you nod. “as i was saying, i get so sick of people sometimes. being popular is fucking exhausting. i don’t know how much longer i can keep up with this. i swear i can’t enjoy things on my own time without people barging in or commenting on it.

“i can’t sit on a couch to catch my breath without people wanting to talk to me. not that that’s bad of course, i love talking to people, but christ, just back up a bit. like can’t they just take a hint and realize that i don’t want to talk? do you get that?”

rayne nods. “must be rough.”

“it is,” you groan and then sigh, standing up to dust off your clothes. you stumble from dizziness after having gotten up too fast. however, you shake the feeling out. “sorry, i shouldn’t have dumped all of that on you. that was a stupid thing to complain about.”

“no, it wasn’t.” rayne argues. “people who are always in your space are fucking annoying. i would know so there’s nothing wrong with feeling that way.” at this point, he could tell the alcohol is doing its number on him, making him more vocal and bold.

“do i annoy you, rayne?” you ask, eyelashes batting at him, this innocent worry behind your eyes. it drives him mad.

“no.” he says sternly, inching closer, his gaze falling to your crimson lips. that damn red lipstick. he wonders what would happen if he were to mess it up. what would happen if he were to ruin that precise lining of color? what you let him cross that line? in his tipsy state of mind, he wants to find out.

“are you sure? because i know whenever we see each other i kinda cling to you, but if that bothers you, just let me know. really it’s no-” you ramble before rayne cuts you off.

“i want to kiss you.” the half-blonde mutters. his eyes stare deep into your own. your eyebrows raise in shock.

"huh?"

"i want" rayne's hand flexes at his side as he exhales, resisting the urge to touch you. "to kiss you."

"why?" you whisper so quietly that he almost didn't hear you.

maybe this is a reckless decision. maybe he shouldn't be risking a friendship with a drunken mind, but honestly in the moment, he really couldn't care less. he can regret it in the morning if things fell apart.

"i like you." rayne admits.

a moment of silence falls onto the room. you stare and stare, sinking your eyes deep into rayne’s as his confession weighs further down onto you.

“oh thank god.” you exhale, pulling rayne in by his shirt.

rayne practically melts into the feeling of your lips, soft against his own. he can taste faint traces of alcohol on you. he places his hands on your hips to press your bodies together. his palms explore your figure, circling around your lower back, trailing upwards to your ribs and back down to your waist. your hands entangle themselves in his hair, eliciting a soft groan out of him.

kissing you is a feeling like no other. it’s straight euphoria, maybe even something greater than that. the butterflies flap violently on his stomach. fireworks ignite his blood. being with you is like soaring across the sky.

you deepen the kiss, exploring each other with such desperation that it makes you dizzy. his tongue moves against yours in perfect sync, as if it were a choreographed dance. by the time you pull away to catch air, you and rayne are breathless, huffing as the half-blonde rests his forehead against yours.

you beautiful red lipstick is now smeared across your mouth, staining at the corners and below the chin. rayne pulls his head back. his fingers graze over your lips, admiring the mess. he’s sure it transferred onto him as well.

“you got something right there.” you joke, pointing at him.

“shut up.” he whispers. however, a smile breaks out onto his face, betraying his words.

“so,” you say, snaking your arms around the half-blonde’s waist. “the rayne ames has a crush on me? i never thought i’d see the day.”

he hums as confirmation. “would i be wrong to guess that you like me too?”

“no.” you grin. “in fact, you’d be one hundred percent right.”

“wonderful.” he mutters, leaning in for another kiss. you turn your head, having him miss your mouth entirely.

“i’m starting to believe you only like me so you could have a make out partner.” you tease, causing the half-blonde to sigh at your antics.

“i like you because you’re kind.”

he pecks one cheek.

“because you’re fun.”

he pecks the other.

“because you’re intelligent.”

he presses his stained lips to your forehead.

“because you’re so beautiful.”

rayne kisses the tip of your nose.

“my beautiful, (y/n).” he mumbles with a barely noticeable slur, cupping your face.

“you should drink more often. i like this side of you.” you comment, looking up at him with a gaze that drives him crazy.

“please just let me kiss you again.” rayne quietly begs, his mouth centimeters from yours.

“kiss me whenever you want.” you whisper before colliding with him once more.

in the morning, ryoh has to pick the lock to get into the guest bedroom. he stumbles in pissed off and ready to blow up on the person who dared to put him through such a hassle.

however, the sight he walks into flips his mood instantly. ryoh finds you and rayne tangled in each other’s arms completely knocked out. upon closer inspection, he notes the matching lipstick stains on both of your mouths, and a knowing smirk spreads across his face.

the blonde man pulls out his phone, snapping pictures in different angles to solidify this moment in history.

“he better thank me for this.” ryoh says to himself before walking out and shutting the door behind him.

#anime #manga #mashle #mashle magic and muscles #mashle x reader #rayne ames #rayne x reader #rayne ames x reader #from kor ; ♆

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rsmura · 3 months

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ROOMMATES — enhypen

( bookshelf ) genre fluff, crack pairing enha x gn reader word count 0.7k warnings not proofread

a/n none.

HEESEUNG

considering he owns a room to himself in the enha dorm, he would definitely prefer his peace a lot, but sometimes could get clingy and want interactions

you and him are the exact example of night owl and early bird, so expect him to game until potentially 3 in the morning, and hearing his screams when he dies in games

he will most definitely scream your name from across the hall and not stop until you walk right up to his face - when you do get to him, he would just smile and go, “hi.” he probably ends up asking for some attention, or tells you a movie long speech about his day

JONGSEONG

your parents will literally never ever worry about you considering how they let jay treat you as his child - he's so caring to the point people would actually believe you if you said you were jay's child over your own biological family

he'll be cleaning, cooking, everything. not to worry though, as everything he does, he WILLINGLY does it - it's almost as if he feels a sense of responsibility that he needs to take care of you

it’s almost as if he can read your mind; whenever you’re craving something, he’ll coincidentally come back from the store with it. all in all, he’s the best roommate you could ever ask for

rest under cut !

JAEYUN

he’s neither a morning person or sleeps in - but he does love sleep so whenever you wake him up when he’s late, best believe you’ll prepare freezing water with ice inside, and dump it on his head

but sometimes you’ll feel bad seeing his desk light still turned on at 4am, with his keyboard sounds in the background, meaning he was still awake and doing his work

when he hears you behind him, he’ll immediately usher you to sleep, and when you don’t, he’ll tuck you into his own bed, sitting next to you, and bring his laptop to work on on his lap

SUNGHOON

upon first moving in with him, he’ll probably seem a little cold and closed off, but prepare for chaos when he warms up to you

it could literally be a normal day, with you both sitting at the dining table and finishing your work, when sunghoon decides to scream, then returns to type away as if nothing happened

although he doesn’t admit it, every single day he’ll wait for you on the couch until you’re ready to leave, and when you ask him why he’s waiting for you, he’ll continue with his, ‘i wasn’t waiting, my foot was hurting earlier,’ excuse

SEONWOO

he’s the absolute sweetest roommate you could ever ask for - randoms act of kindness every single day; having your favourite food on the table before you come home

whenever you want to rant, gossip, anything like that, sunoo is ready to hear it all - he wouldn’t care if his opinion isn’t what you want to hear, he’ll always give you his honest answer - of course that is, if you guys get to eat ice cream after

he doesn't need reminders for any special occasions, whether it be your birthday, christmas, passing your exams - he's always ready with a gift and a congrats

JUNGWON

since he’s the leader of enhypen, he feels the responsibility to take care of you as well, no matter if you’re older or younger

unfortunately he can’t cook like jay, but he’ll definitely do it just for you, even if it means the entire kitchen will be flipped upside down; when you confront him about this, he’ll ignore you, saying he’s a pro at cooking

when seeing you dead tired or drained, he’ll knock on your door, opening it cautiously, then will proceed to ask you if you want to have movie night and chill with him

RIKI

if you don't want to feel like a parent just yet, do NOT let him live in the same house as you - you'd be the one picking up after all his undone chores

you specifically made a rule with riki that on days you weren't home during dinnertime, he would wait for you to come back, in case he ever tries something and ends up burning the entire apartment down

there was this one week where you weren't going to be at home which meant he would have to do all the cooking; when you come back, riki would tell you all the amazing food he's cooked the past few days, only for your neighbour to betray him and ask, "oh riki! you're not ordering food anymore?"

taglist open @euncsace @ibsysbsfsunsbs @misouer networks @k-films @kflixnet @/k-labels

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cuubism · 5 months

Text

work is driving me fucking insane this week, so here's this silly self-indulgent thing i wrote to distract myself.

the spirit of this post is here as well XD

coffee shop au, meet cute, literally falling for your crush

In retrospect, forgetting to eat for three meals in a row wasn't Dream's best move. Not that he'd done it on purpose. Hence the forgetting. But taking time to cook always felt so wasteful when he was finally making progress on his novel. He could eat later, whenever the hyperfocus burned itself out.

The only thing that eventually got him out of the house was caffeine. He'd run out of both coffee and tea in the dysfunction of this week, and thus was forced to venture out to the cafe a few blocks away from his flat in search of enough energy to keep him awake for a few more hours.

Technically, there was a place that was closer. There was also a grocery store, where he could have bought coffee grounds. But Dream took the excuse to go a bit further, and not for the quality of the coffee.

He and Johanna, on the occasion she could convince Dream to leave the house and attempt to be part of society, had first started coming to this particular coffee shop because Johanna's girlfriend Rachel worked there. But Dream had to admit that what really kept him coming back, including at times when he wasn't being dragged along by Johanna, was another employee entirely.

Hob.

Hob was, in Rachel's words, "a perfectly nice guy but I don't know why you're so obsessed with him." In Johanna's words, Hob was, "quite fit, I can't lie, but I really thought you'd have gone for someone who's a bit more of an arts gremlin like you."

In Dream's words, Hob was perfect. He always had a smile for Dream, and a kind word or compliment, and he had kind eyes, and nice hands, and was terribly handsome. Dream had never been particularly attracted to masculinity before but Hob was proving him wrong over and over. He looked like he was strong enough to pick Dream up, and that did all sorts of exciting things to Dream's insides. Dream may or may not have had an actual dream about Hob holding his hand.

Hob also made terrible coffee. But Dream didn't care. He took whatever coffee Hob made him, whether the grounds were burnt, or it had way too much cream, or was vastly overbrewed, and drank it quite happily, sneaking looks at Hob all the while. Because Hob's coffee might be awful, but he always smiled at Dream as he gave it to him, and sometimes their hands brushed and it sent a thrilling little shock up Dream's arms. And anything Hob made for him felt made with love, he could tell, it was like a homemade birthday cake with uneven frosting and an undercooked part in the middle.

It was possible Dream should care more about the quality of the coffee and less about the symbolism of it.

In any case, he went to the coffee shop, underfed and undercaffeinated, hoping that Hob would be there, even if it meant he would have to down another cup of extremely bad coffee. Hob should be there, he did usually work Tuesday afternoons, not that Dream had memorized his schedule like a stalker or anything.

He stepped inside, the little bell over the door jingling, and found that he was right, Hob was there. A thrill of delight ran through him. Dream did not often feel anything as carefree or joyous as delight, but he was very sleep-deprived, and Hob was there, so there it was. Rachel was also working, and waved to him as he stepped up to the counter. As she and Johanna were both very aware of his embarrassing crush on Hob--much to Dream's chagrin--she didn't come over to take his order, instead leaving him to Hob.

"Hey, it's Dream, right?" said Hob, wiping off his hands on a towel and leaning on the counter, looking at Dream with a smile. He knows my name, Dream thought with a heady rush, then remembered that Hob was obligated to write it on his coffee cup, and that Dream came here often, and it didn't have to mean anything. "Dark roast with almond milk and caramel?"

How Hob could be so diligent about remembering his order and so terrible at making it, Dream didn't know. "That's correct," he said.

Behind Hob, Rachel mouthed keep going, which Dream took to mean that if he wanted to get anywhere he had to attempt to engage Hob in slightly more conversation than his usual coffee-ordering script. This was unfortunately true, particularly since Hob had already nullified half the sentences Dream would usually say by predicting his order.

"You remembered my order," he said, which felt like a reasonably normal response, definitely better than do you want to see if you can pick me up? which would probably be creepy. Rachel gave him a thumbs up.

"Of course. You're quite memorable," said Hob, and winked at him. Was he flirting? Dream would like to think so, but he wasn't usually very good at picking up on that sort of thing. Why would Hob be interested in him anyway? Perhaps he meant that Dream was memorable in a bad way, that he was annoying or weird, or--

Dream still hadn't responded.

"I am not trying to be," he said, and behind Hob, Rachel sighed. It was true, though. In most areas of life Dream preferred to go unnoticed. It was only Hob's attention that made him feel all bubbly inside.

"Task failed successfully," said Hob, "because I can't stop noticing you."

Was Dream... still succeeding at the conversation? That was truly unexpected, that he hadn't already turned Hob off by being utterly unsuitable for human society.

"Is that a good thing?" Dream asked.

"Is it?" asked Hob.

Undoubtedly it was. Dream liked the thought of Hob noticing him. He liked the thought of Hob remembering his name, and his coffee order, and when he came into the cafe, with as much detail as Dream had memorized his schedule. He did not normally like having people's eyes on him but he liked the thought of Hob looking. Of Hob caring about what he saw. It made him feel interesting and worthy, and sort of giddy and lightheaded--

Oh. No. That wasn't Hob's attention. That was the fact that the last meal he'd eaten had been a sleeve of biscuits for breakfast two days ago, and that he'd been on his feet for a long time, or what constituted a long time when one had only had a sleeve of biscuits two days ago to eat. And he hadn't slept, and he'd had quite an exciting few minutes just now, and apparently this all meant that his body had decided it needed to check out for a moment, thanks, goodbye.

Inconvenient timing, Dream thought, as everything went sort of spinny and blurry. He was making such progress! He really thought Hob might even like him, and falling on the ground was not going to help his case.

Inevitable now, though. The last thing he saw before he passed out was Hob's face, expression shifting from amusement to concern, and really, there were worse ways to go out.

He woke up not much later, or at least it felt like little time had passed, to find himself lying down on a couch in what seemed to be the cafe's back office, as best as his overtaxed mind could gather. And Hob was crouched beside him, looking at him worriedly, Rachel leaning over his shoulder, face likewise creased in concern.

Dream wondered how he had gotten to the couch. Had Hob carried him there? It was a pleasant thought, though he wished he could have experienced it in person.

"You know," said Hob, "there are easier ways to get out of talking to me than blacking out." The words were light, but he sounded genuinely stressed out about it.

Dream immediately felt bad. "I'm sorry."

Hob chucked him on the cheek, a light touch that felt fond. "Not what I meant. Are you okay?"

Dream carefully pushed himself up to sitting, Hob watching all the while, hands hovering over him but not touching. Dream sat up. His head didn't spin. "I am okay," he said.

"Probably didn't eat anything today, huh?" said Rachel. She didn't look quite as concerned as Hob did, she was used to Dream's habits. Meanwhile, for all Hob knew, Dream had a brain tumor and would imminently die.

"No," Dream admitted. "I was... occupied."

"Will you be okay here for a sec?" Hob asked, brow scrunching as if he truly thought Dream might just collapse again onto the floor without him. "I'll get you some water. Something to eat, too."

It was worth fainting in a public place, Dream thought, just to have Hob look at him with such care.

When Dream nodded, Hob hurried away to do just that.

Only now his crush was going to be one million times worse, and certainly not reciprocated, not after the scene he'd caused.

Beside him, Rachel was laughing, hiding it behind her hand.

"Is my suffering humorous to you?" Dream asked, but there was no heat in it, he was too busy looking after where Hob had disappeared.

"You should have seen it," she said. "He launched himself over the counter to catch you. Oh my god, I wish you could have witnessed it."

"Surely Hob would aid any customer in distress," Dream sniffed. But something turned over in his stomach, a little flutter of hope.

"Yeah but not literally vault the counter. It was terrific. I was worried he'd break a hip."

"I'm not that old," said Hob, coming back around the corner and crouching beside Dream again, water bottle and what looked like a chocolate muffin clasped in his hands.

Rachel was unrepentant. "You're lucky you didn't wind up on the floor, too."

"You caught me," said Dream, staring into Hob's eyes. He had such pretty eyes. Rich brown, like coffee with a dash of cream.

Dream might still be a bit lightheaded.

"Of course," said Hob, and uncapped the water, handing it to him. Dream took slow sips, realizing as he did that he hadn't drank any water all day. "I'm fond of you, you know. Can't let you hit your head on the floor."

Fond. Dream might faint again.

"Should I take you to hospital or something?" Hob asked, still so concerned it was making that floaty feeling bubble up again in Dream's chest.

"I will be fine here," he said.

"He just fell for you, that's all," said Rachel, and Dream glared at her. She just smiled back. "Swooned and everything."

"I did not swoon," Dream protested.

"You kind of did, actually," said Hob. "I've never seen someone just crumple so dramatically."

"Oh, have you seen many people faint, then?"

"No, but--"

"I'm going to man the till," said Rachel, patting Dream on the arm. "I don't think I want to be in the middle of this. Let me know if you want me to take you home, Dream." She winked at him. "Unless you'd rather Hob do it."

Johanna was never this meddlesome, Dream thought bitterly. She just made fun of him and left it at that.

Then he was alone with Hob, which was both an exciting and anxiety-inducing state of affairs. He clutched his water bottle for balance.

"Um. I got you this," said Hob, and handed him the muffin. "Made them this morning."

Dream was really quite hungry, so despite Hob's poor coffee record, he took a bite of the muffin.

And this was how he learned that Hob was utterly lacking in coffee-making skills because all his talent was in baking.

The chocolate was so rich, it tasted more like cake than a muffin. the chocolate chips melted on his tongue, and he had to force himself not to just immediately take another huge bite. He really was so hungry. Perhaps, now that he knew he could get such things here, he would have a reason to visit the cafe other than just Hob -- and a reason to eat breakfast, too.

"Good?" said Hob, and Dream nodded, licking the melted chocolate from his lips, and he didn't fail to notice Hob watching the movement of his tongue. Perhaps Johanna and Rachel were right, and it wasn't hopeless, even if Dream's best attempt at flirting back was collapsing onto the floor.

He did not know what possessed him then. Perhaps it was the chocolate. Perhaps it was the worry still lingering in Hob's warm eyes, or maybe he had just hit his head and forgotten about it. Either way, he leaned forward in his seat, and kissed Hob on the lips.

His lips were so soft. Just as Dream had dreamt they would be. Hob made a sound of surprise against Dream's mouth, and caught him by the arms so he wouldn't fall out of his chair. Which was a definite possibility, though now the lightheadedness was not caused by a calorie deficit but rather because he was kissing Hob.

Hob who was kissing him back, too. Softening against his mouth, licking the remaining chocolate from Dream's lips. Would Hob hug him, too? If he had already caught him? Dream had fantasized so much about being hugged by Hob.

Only one way to find out. He leaned into Hob's arms, and Hob caught him again, wrapping his arms around Dream's back. He was so warm, and strong. He was wonderful.

"It is a good thing," he said into Hob's shoulder.

"What is?"

"You noticing me."

Hob chuckled. The sound rumbled through Dream's chest. "It's not hard to do. I've been eyeing you for a while, you know. I always hoped you'd talk to me more."

"I am not very good at talking more," said Dream.

"I think I've got that now." Hob pulled back to look at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. "Falling over is more your style."

"I only faint on occasion," Dream protested, which only seemed to amuse Hob more.

"Well. If talking is a bit tough, maybe we can go for a walk sometime?" He tucked a strand of Dream's hair behind his ear, and Dream shivered. Hob clocked it, too, and let his hand rest on the back of Dream's head, fingers curled in his hair as his gaze flicked to Dream's lips and back up. "Or. Something else?"

Dream thought something else might make him spontaneously combust. That might have to wait a bit, at least until he could cope with Hob looking at him like that without feeling like he was about to explode in a flurry of butterflies.

"A walk, if you will hold my hand," he said, and Hob smiled, and took his hand, and Dream learned that all dreams really could come true at once.

#this is SO silly #hob is literally the most average guy and dream is salivating with lust and completely ferally obsessed with him #it's mutual tho dream is literally a gremlin and hob is like 😍 wow he's beautiful he's like an angel #and then they lived happily ever after #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my writing #sex scene between these two would be funny as fuck i think hob would touch dream once and he would come instantly and maybe also faint

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loveinhawkins · 11 months

Text

Steve gets the idea from Dustin and Robin, in a roundabout way: Robin insists on buying a camping stove from The War Zone, which Dustin pounces upon with glee as soon as he notices it.

“Oh, we’re cooking with gas now,” he says, which is the worst pun Steve has heard thus far.

Eddie snorts, almost but not quite hidden underneath the sound of the engine. Steve smiles.

“Y’know there’s a stove right here?” he asks in benign exasperation, gestures behind him to the little kitchen area of the RV.

“Steve,” Robin says, “that’s not as fun.”

“Yeah, come on, Steve! It’ll be like at Camp Know Where—”

“Know Nothing,” Steve mutters automatically.

“—we oft dined al fresco.”

“Oft,” Eddie parrots, and Steve can faintly feel the movement of him laughing, from where he’s pressed up against the back of the driver’s seat. “Al fresco. Henderson, what lab did they make you in?”

“Eddie, either shut up or back me up, I wanna get a culturally enriching experience outta this.”

“Oh, excuse me, didn’t realise this was a field trip.”

“You’re excused.”

“Okay,” Steve cuts in, “have fun playing at camping, Henderson, but don’t come crying to me if you, like, blow yourself up.”

Robin chuckles. “Such a happy camper.”

“Boo,” Steve says flatly.

He parks the RV a little bit away from a store just off the main road—heads in alone as it’ll draw less attention. Out loud, he says it’s so he can focus without hearing whining pleas to buy junk food, whether Dustin-approved or not, but he already knows he’ll cater to each and every one of the group’s demands.

Eddie, surprisingly, doesn’t put in a request, says he’s happy to just go along with whatever everyone else wants—a far cry from when Nancy had relayed, with more amusement than frustration, “He said he wants a six-pack.”

Steve figures that the whole being wanted for murder thing would kill anyone’s appetite, but it still makes his stomach sink, that the most substantial meal Eddie’s gotten a chance to eat has been lukewarm Spaghettios.

They set up ‘camp’ in a field, and Robin’s the first to rush outside, shortly followed by Dustin, both intent on using the stove she’s bought.

Steve leaves them all to it, kind of enjoys the temporary peace of just messing about in the RV on his own—it gives him enough time to find where some crockery is kept, anyway.

He’s heating up chicken noodle soup on the stove when Eddie comes back in and tells him, “They got it working, no explosions yet.”

“Oh, miracles can happen. Good timing, by the way.” Steve switches the burner off, pours the soup into a bowl and sets it down on the table—where he’s already laid out a spoon. “Yours is ready.”

At first he doesn’t think the silence is all that unusual. He’s not really looking either, focusing on rinsing out the pan he’d used. But when he does glance up, it’s to see Eddie just standing there, looking at the bowl of soup and blinking rapidly.

It’s almost like… almost like he’s—

“Woah, hey,” Steve says, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Eddie says, even though he’s still quite clearly tearing up. “Absolutely nothing. Jesus Christ.” He groans, presses a couple of fingers to the inner corner of his eyes. “This is fucking mortifying, just pretend you didn’t—ugh.”

In barely a blink, he shuts himself away in the bathroom.

Steve opens his mouth. Closes it. Tries again. “Hate soup that much, huh?”

A watery laugh from behind the door. “No.”

There’s a silence. Steve dries the pan and puts it away before calling, “It’s gonna get cold!”

It won’t for a while yet; he can still see tendrils of steam rising from the bowl.

There’s a long, drawn out sigh, and then Eddie opens the door, sidles in to take a seat at the table.

For a moment, Steve thinks he isn’t going to acknowledge it, which is fine. But as Eddie picks up the spoon he says, head down, “It’s just. That was, uh. Really—really nice.”

Steve’s concern abates a little; he can’t help giving a slight smirk. “Would it help if I was mean instead?”

Eddie laughs again, no tears in it this time. He shrugs with a grin. “Do whatever you want, man.”

He’s eating slowly, his spoon dragging through the soup. His eyes seem distant.

“It’s just… I miss—” His voice threatens to break, but doesn’t quite get there. “I miss… home.”

Before Steve can think of a reasonable reply, Eddie scoffs, rolling his eyes. He drops the spoon with a clatter. “God, that sounds so—”

“It doesn’t,” Steve interrupts.

“Yeah, sure.” Eddie picks up the spoon again, keeps scraping it against the bottom of the bowl.

“Dude, what did I tell you? You’ve gotta give yourself a break.”

Steve pauses, stuck on what to say next.

He can’t even relate, honestly. Home has long become something he couldn’t… Something he couldn’t really miss, exactly.

It’s ever-changing: the luxury of eating a late breakfast in History; the crunch of leaves underfoot as he walked the railroad tracks with Dustin; the chill of the freezer in Scoops Ahoy, Robin’s snorting laugh bouncing off the walls.

Now it’s his car radio playing as he gives rides on busy school mornings. A high school basketball game. A goddamn video store.

“I think you have this thing,” Steve says slowly.

“A promising start,” Eddie says, lips twitching.

He’s finished the soup. The sight spurs Steve on.

“I think you have this thing,” he repeats, more confidently, “where you think that, like, we’re seasoned monster-killers, and you’re—”

“Uh, speaking objectively, Harrington, that’s kinda what you are.”

“My point is,” Steve says, “that you don’t need to—shit, I don’t know, man. Just. You don’t need to apologise or whatever. You’re doing fine.”

Eddie blinks. He’s cupping the empty bowl with his hands, breathing a little deeper, like the residual warmth is calming.

And that Steve can relate to: in the days after Starcourt, when Robin pretty much dragged him to her house, empty thanks to her folks visiting extended family. They both pretended that they just wanted to stay up late because they could, because they were just teenagers enjoying the summer, and Robin had made shitty hot chocolate from a powder, heating up milk on the stove; when Steve complained that he could hardly enjoy it through a busted lip, she’d said, still jittery, “I just thought—it’s just nice to hold, y’know?”

She was right.

One of Eddie’s fingers starts tapping against the bowl, the underside of his ring making a series of restless clinks. Steve wants to still his hand, gently press it further into the warmth. Settle him.

Eddie stands up with the bowl.

“I can—”

“Nah, I’ve got it,” Eddie says, already at the sink. He turns on the faucet, smiles. “Thanks, by the way.”

It’s so simple, so domestic, and all of a sudden, Steve’s struck with a thought: oh, I want this.

“No problem. I’ll get you something better, after… um, everything.”

Eddie chuckles. “Oh, Jesus, I think I actually would kill for some fries.”

Steve clicks his fingers. “So we’ll make it happen.”

“We?”

“Yeah, I hate to break it to you, man, but as soon as they hear about free fries—” Steve jerks his head towards the chatter outside, “—they’re gonna demand to come with, they’re like piranhas.”

He expects Eddie to play up the joke, to groan and complain.

But while he does laugh, Eddie just sighs before saying in earnest, “That sounds fucking fantastic.”

And his eyes are warm and fond, like maybe he’s found another home in all of them, too.

#another ‘throwaway’ line from a previous ficlet wouldn’t let me go #pre steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve and robin #steve and the party #eddie and the party #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve and dustin #eddie and dustin

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rillian4e · 7 months

Note

Scara reacting to his s/o getting one of those womb/succubus tattoos?

Just them wearing more revealing clothes to show off the tattoo and to taunt him >.<

Scenario please!

You want it, you get it, anon

nsfw, fem!reader, degradation, sub!reader, teasing, dom!scaramouche, possessive scara, not proof read.

It was just another day where Scaramouche and you were supposed to go on a little date, you were feeling very excited as you recently got a succubus tattoo on your womb and you haven't told Scaramouche about it, wanting it to be a surprise. You purposely wore a small top which showed the tattoo perfectly off, it matched very well with the tattoo and looked adorable. As you headed out and smiled when you saw Scaramouche, you could see the slight surprise in his eyes, looking over at your stomach.

"What's this?" He asked, confused on why you got a tattoo like that, his reaction made you think he wasn't fond of the tattoo, "Do you not like it...? It's rather popular nowadays, and it looks pretty, right?" you shrugged your shoulders, smiling mischievously, you knew it looked good, a few guys had already complimented you on it after all.

"hmph, it's not my thing but whatever. Let's go already." taking your hand in his, he lead you to a shopping store, you two had already planned to go and buy some bathing suits, it has been getting hotter and that is the perfect time to go to the beach.

Despite him having acted as if he wasn't interested and didn't care, the tips of his ears were red, how could he have not liked it? He didn't think you could have gotten more attractive than you already were but this womb tattoo would be the death of him. He found tattoos attractive, and that specific tattoo on his pretty girlfriend's body? It was making him feral.

When you arrived, Scaramouche sat down in a nearby chair, telling you to go and pick some bathing suits while he waited—after picking several bathing suits, you went in the dressing room, Scaramouche coming inside with you which you found unexpected of him, he already had an excuse saying how "Why would I stay there? Too many lousy people, it's more quiet here." you just rolled your eyes at him, knowing he wanted to see you change. When you finally tried on a bathing suit, a pretty purple one which showed off the tattoo, you had purposely picked that one, the bathing suit matched the design of it, Scaramouche couldn't keep his eyes off you, he felt reluctant on whether you should wear that to the beach, he didn't want another man looking at your body, it would make his blood boil. "Does it look good? Hey, don't space out!" at your words, he was back to reality and nodded.

"Uh, yeah. Looks good, but you're either doing this intentionally or are just an idiot. Either way, I'm done with this." was what he said before he pinned you against the wall of the dressing room, his lips biting down onto your neck harshly. A leg pressed against your crotch, "You thought I didn't know, hm? Getting this tattoo just to rile me up? I guess, I shouldn't have expected any less from a whore like you." he whispered in your ear, making you shiver, yes, this is what you wanted, you were already wet from his mere words but you couldn't forget that you were in the dressing room where there were people outside! "Not here, Scara... There's people outside, what if they hear?" that was something you did not want, especially having to go and then buy the bathing suit and have the lady at the front desk look at you two weirdly... "oh my, acting so shy now? It's a shame, though. I'm not going easy on you this time." hearing his chuckle, you knew that there will be no escape from this humiliating experience.

And so, you found yourself pressed against the wall, his cock hitting against your sweet spot with your hand clamped against your mouth, you were sure someone would hear but right now, you couldn't worry about that, only thoughts of Scaramouche fucking into you inside your head. His lips fervently chasing yours, exchanging passionate, messy and wet kisses. One thing was for sure, he liked the tattoo.

After your little session, you two exited the dressing room, your hair slightly disheveled and clothes a mess with Scaramouche leading you to the register with a proud smirk on his face, the lady at the register looked at the two of you as expected but Scaramouche only shot her a glare and then you two went home where he took his sweet time enjoying you for himself.

#wanderer smut #scaramouche smut #scara x reader #genshin thirst #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact imagine #genshin scara #genshin wanderer #scaramouche

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vanderlesbian · 8 months

Text

141 dating a civilian

hii!! this is a self indulgent belated bday gift to myself (im 20 now...) but i hope u guys enjoy it!! also feel free to leave requests in my asks bc i am so bad at thinking of prompts but ive been wanting to write so bad LOL

writing this had made me realize that i love writing gaz content........i am obsessed with him.........

gn reader! no warnings :)

masterlist

captain john price

- price loves being around you—you bring a sense of normalcy that relaxes him. when he's home, he enjoys doing domestic things around the home. he offers to do the laundry, he'll make you tea in the mornings, he feeds the dog and cat you two raise together and will go with you on any errands you need to run. when he's with you, he never thinks about work, which makes you happy because you hate to see him overworking himself.

- i feel like you two would meet through laswell. a mutual friend, you and price would meet one another at a pub or something of the sort. immediately, the two of you take an interest in one another, and laswell would catch onto that rather quickly and finds it endearing. when getting to know one another, you mention the fact that you live alone, which gives price the excuse to hand you his number. "in case you need anything", is what he told you, and you could've sworn you saw laswell snickering behind him. regardless, you ended up texting him a few days after that, asking him if he knew how to fix cars.

- loves going on vacations with you!! when price has a decent period of time off, he'll ask you if you want to go somewhere, to which you always answer yes. road trips are his favorite, because driving for long periods of time is something calming for him and he enjoys the fact that it's just the two of you traveling. maybe you'll go camping, or perhaps you'll drive a country over to spend a few days in a different city; whatever it is, you and price always have a nice time. while he gets to travel a lot, he recognizes that you don't have the same opportunity, so he loves to take you places as see your reactions to things. when he's deployed, he's always on the lookout for places to take you later.

- one of your favorite things to do is visit price while he's in the office. you usually bring him a meal, whether it be home made or take out because you know he's going to forget about grabbing himself something to eat. he always thanks you with a kiss, then you linger for a moment to speak to him, giving him time to eat and take a break from his work. while you're visiting price, all of his attention is on you, and if a soldier knocks on his door and asks to speak to him, he'll use his captain voice to tell them to come by later unless it's an emergency.

- price is very proud to call you his partner. although he tries not to bring you up too often at work because of privacy and professional reasons, he likes to mention you casually every now and then, especially with laswell or the other 141 members. he's proud of the work you do, no matter what your career is; he's just likes to brag about his amazing partner. he will do his signature v shaped smile whenever someone says in surprise,"oh, your partner is a/n [occupation]? how cool!"

simon "ghost" riley

- ghost is a listener, not a talker. and boy, does he love listening to you ramble on about your day. he finds it cute; the way you complain how expensive your coffee was that morning, or how you couldn't decide what to wear to simply go pick up a snack from the store. his responses include a lot of "oh really?", "i bet", and some snarky comments when you bring up a coworker that you don't particularly like. ghost is quiet, but his little responses show that he's well invested in your stories.

- just like everything else in his life, ghost keeps his relationship with you very private. it took him quite a while to even tell any of the other 141 members that he was in a relationship, simply because he didn't feel the need to tell them. he also wanted to protect you; not that he didn't trust the other members, but he was scared of your name accidentally being said to the wrong person. you were innocent, and ghost didn't want to ruin that innocence with the dark realities of his job and put you in danger.

- listen; meeting him at a music store. you would definitely be the one to initiate things, so when you saw a tall, handsome man flipping through records beside you, it made you look for an excuse to speak to him. "that's a good album", you would then finally speak up after watching him pull out a vinyl by the doors. ghost would honestly be taken aback; no one ever really strikes up conversation with him in public. "yeah" would be his response, but the dryness of it didn't stop you from continuing the conversation. after you two begin dating, ghost will often bring up how you were insistent on speaking to him, which never fails to bring a shy blush to your cheeks.

- you think it's amusing to have such a "scary" looking boyfriend. he tags along behind you whenever the two of you go out, and you often forget how large and intimidating he looks to others, especially because he always wears dark colored outfits and a face mask out in public. imagine ghost lingering behind you like a lost puppy while you mindlessly look through clothes at a store. when you're at the register, you notice the cashier glancing behind you, forgetting that ghost is looming over you like a bodyguard.

- speaking of others reactions, you love showing ghost off to people. you'll be spending time with friends, family, coworkers—whoever, and you get so excited whenever they ask if you have a boyfriend. you think it's funny to see their eyes widen when you pull up a photo saying "this is simon, he's deployed right now but (blah blah blah)". you had asked ghost for his permission to show photos of him to others while he wasn't around, and at first he was hesitant, but after hearing about the reactions he gives people, he doesn't care anymore. people think "that's their boyfriend?", which makes ghost smile to himself because yes, he's all yours.

kyle "gaz" garrick

- you two have this thing where the moment he opens the door after coming home from a mission, you'll sprint into his arms and he never fails to pick you up off your feet and squeeze you tight. gaz greets you like he hasn't seen you in years, covering your face and neck in kisses and spinning you around in his arms for what feels like forever.

- loves to facetime you when he's away. sometimes you'll be in different timezones, but both of you will be willing to stay up at 3 in the morning jusst to talk to one another. gaz always gives you room tours of whatever place he's staying at while deployed, or he'll call you while he's out shopping to ask what souvenir you'd like best. sometimes the other 141 boys will pop in to say hello, or gaz will shove the camera in their face to ask if they have anything to say to you.

- i feel that gaz would easily become jealous, especially because he can't be with you all the time. while he's away from you, you'll text or call him about an encounter at work or while you were out and about where someone tried hitting on you, earning a snarky remark from gaz. they always make you giggle because you're aware how protective he is of you, and they're often silly remarks like "they're lucky i wasn't there" or "should've told 'em your boyfriend is 6'5 and a wrestler"

- gaz is younger, so i feel that you would be a university student or something of the sort when you first met him. working part time at a local coffee shop at the time, you vividly remember gaz complimenting you the first time you served him. "you're very pretty/handsome, by the way" he said confidently, but quickly walked off before you could thank him. after that, gaz came in as often as he could, learning something new about you each time he came in, and it got to a point where you would simply give him a drink or pastry for free each time he came in. eventually he would ask you out, offering to take you somewhere after your shift, to which you immediately agreed to.

- when gaz visits your place, it's always like a silly little sleepover. the two of you will watch comically bad movies, make homemade pizza, play those couple's card games and he'll listen to you talk about any gossip you have. when gaz is with you, he takes it as his time to just be himself because he's so comfortable in your presence. he doesn't have to worry about being formal with you, and the two of you are equally as silly as you spend time with one another.

john "soap" mactavish

- soap doesn't like to bother you with his work. when he's with you, he'll always be so upbeat and playful, but you've learned to be able to notice when he's particularly stressed or tired. he insists that he's fine, telling you that you don't have to worry about him as he tries to play it off. he's a bit stubborn about it, so sometimes you have to bother him just a bit before he finally gives in and tells you what's up, or simply agrees to laying down and having a rest.

- okay, picture this. you meet soap at a dog park. i think he would have a german shepherd...which is besides the point, but when your dog and his both stop in their tracks to be friendly with one another, both of you feel that it's only natural to make conversation, right? the two of you quickly hit it off, to which you credit mostly to soap for being much more extroverted than you are, and the two of you talk about your dogs for a bit before the conversation focuses on yourselves. smoothly, soap would ask for you to join him on another trip to the dog park sometime, using the excuse that your dogs seemed to like each other.

- soap loves to text you while he's away, and other than gaz, he would be the one to text you the most out of any of the boys. he mostly sends a lot of random pictures of things he says reminds you of him, but will also update you on a bunch of random little things he's doing. "just shit in this french bathroom" "johnny i don't need to know that" "had to tell somebody"

- will leave plenty of his clothes for you to wear while he's gone, and it's practically all you wear during that time. you'll leave the house in an outfit completely made up of your boyfriend's clothes because they're just so comfortable, and it makes you feel less lonely having his scent lingering with you. even when soap is home, you still constantly wear his clothes, and 90% of his wardrobe is practically yours.

- soap would love to visit YOU at work. you forget your chapstick? he's on his way. you text him that you're hungry and forgot to pack a meal? he's bringing you your favorite fast food. although he's busy and can't stop by all the time, soap tries to stop by as often as he can, and all of your coworkers have learned to recognize him. "here comes johnny" one of them will point out, making you quickly whip your head around to look.

#i STRUGGLED with soap sorry #x reader #fluff #headcanons #cod #mw2 #call of duty #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #john price #captain price #kyle gaz garrick #domestic #fanfiction #fanfic #imagine

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sphireath-wisp · 3 months

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#Yes or... yes!

Sypnosis: "Hey boy! Look, I'm gonna make this simple for you. You got two choices: yes or... yes!" How they'd confess to you/How you'd confess to them + what lead up to the confession.

Warnings: Not proofread, trying a different format, situationship for Nagi, Quite long... I suppose

Featuring: Seishiro Nagi, Yoichi Isagi x GN! reader

SEISHIRO NAGI... your seatmate at the back of the class who gives you blatant glances across the table and gives no thought to being secretive and shy. You can feel his eyes cemented to you when you fidget with the rings adorning your fingers, when you take a sip of your water, when you bounce your leg up and down nervously the moment your eyes lock with his for a slight moment in class - and the aftermath: your poor mind is thrown into a state of overdrive under his gaze.

You can't tell what he's thinking and it's even worse because of his painfully neutral expression, the same one you've always seen on his face, the same one that leans down to your level and oh-so-close to your face to whisper things in your ear. It's agonizing, really. You can't read this guy and it drives you insane.

SEISHIRO NAGI... who gives you compliments - and it's horrible because you can't tell whether he's genuine. "Wow, you're so observant, (Name)," His eyebrows shoot up slightly, spine straightening to catch a cold can of ice lemon tea you got for him after a short coughing fit. "Thanks." He'd mumble out and practically chug the drink down, a mix of sweet and sour lingering on the base of his tongue before he noticed that you didn't have a drink for yourself.

His fingers - cold to the touch thanks to the ice lemon tea - snake around your waist when you're about to leave him. His fingers intertwine and cage you in his arms, head resting on your shoulder when he figures he's used up all of his willpower pulling you closer. "Let's go get more drinks," it's more of an order than a request, to be honest, but how could you say no? Any longer in that position and you'd melt like butter in his grasp.

Your body relaxes when you feel him slowly let go, not to mention the tension you were storing in your jaw and chest. However, being observant backfires on you when his hands lightly hold your waist, fingers digging the flesh of your hip as if he didn't want to leave you. "You're paying," His voice isn't a good enough distraction from your rapid heartbeat, its reverberations intense against your ribs. "Okay," you say without thinking and he finally is off you.

SEISHIRO NAGI... who finds every excuse to ask you for help. Ranging from homework to helping him clean up after school, you've accepted the tolling task of befriending him and he likes you too much to let you run off. It's not a big deal if you say no and don't help him, but in all honesty, he's oblivious to the fact that he just wants you around.

"Can you stay after school and help me with this school project I have for history?" He watches the way your face scrunches up and understands you're hesitant immediately. "Can't, I have stuff to do at home. I'll go home first without you, then, 'kay?"

He mimics your reluctant expression, lips painted in a sharper frown. "...I'll go home with you," he answers without even a moment slipping by, barely putting any thought into it.

"Huh? What about your project?" He's already dragging his feet to the school gates by the time you ask. "Another day."

SEISHIRO NAGI... who gets incessantly questioned by Reo the moment he picks up on you and Nagi's dynamic. Nagi always forgets to return your pen but constantly keeps it safe... you're always sitting next to him at lunch and ordering an extra side dish to share with him because he's too preoccupied with games to buy food... it's way too obvious for Reo to let slide!

"Are you sure you don't have feelings for (Name)?" Reo hums, a hand on his chin as you walk off into the distance. Nagi's eyes are still on you, his game paused in his hands and waiting until you're out of sight before resuming the round. "Yea," Nagi states, as if he's sure about it.

"So, you're just friends?" Nagi purses his lips as he nods, finding it a little harder than usual to stomach the idea of being just... a friend to you. "You're totally okay if (Name) finds someone else? I've seen them hanging out a lot with that new transfer kid."

His mood instantly sours, turning rotten in a matter of moments and Reo sees it. His mind drifts elsewhere other than the game and, inevitably, trumpets play when he loses the match. Reo chuckles, lightheartedly patting Nagi on the back. "Are you still positive you don't like (Name)?"

"...dunno."

SEISHIRO NAGI... who calls you at ungodly hours, mumbling about what Reo has been insinuating. He follows his words with a tired sigh, phone propped against the headboard of his bed. There's a short silence between the both of you before you begin, "Yeah, haha... that's crazy."

You pause and, for a slight moment, you entertain the idea of Nagi actually liking you in that way, "...what else did Reo say?"

"Kept saying I was staring at you... I don't know what was up with Reo." Nagi shifts around on his bed, glancing at you... or at least the image of you on his screen.

"Something the matter?" You yawn.

"...nothing, you just look different in dark lighting."

"Really? I didn't expect you to notice details like that."

"Yeah, I guess, but anyone would notice minor stuff like that."

"Is me looking different a bad thing?"

"No... not really. You still look the same, kinda." His voice quietens down, dropping a volume. It becomes less monotone and he sounds more unsure as if he doesn't know what to say next or how to string his words together properly - a rare case for him since, for the most part, he just bluntly says what's on his mind without any filter.

SEISHIRO NAGI... who decides it's a hassle to mull over it.

"Do you like me, (Name)?" He abruptly starts and you froze at his straightforwardness. Your breathing hitched. The gears in your head finally began to turn again after a moment of registering his ridiculously sudden question; it was like he was trying to catch you off guard.

Heat crawled up your neck, gathering at the apple of your cheeks - you internally thank how dark your room is.

"Woah, what? That's sudden."

"...do you actually like me, (Name)?"

You gulp. Lying would twist your gut in an unnerving way and leave you with regret for days... but would that be any worse than being left heartbroken?

"Is that a yes?" Nagi interrupts the silence, taking your lack of response as a non-verbal 'yes'. You avoid looking at your phone screen. "...I guess."

"Hey wait, don't turn off your camera." Nagi huffs, rolling over onto his stomach. "You know, Reo's usually right about these kinds of things and I get this nagging feeling that this is a good time to say this. I'm pretty sure I like you too."

You blink, it wasn't as romantic or dreamy as you hoped... but you're talking to Nagi, so what could you expect? A breath of relief unexpectedly releases - a breath you had no idea you were holding back.

"That was way less romantic than I expected it to be," you admit, soft chuckles following suit.

"Confessions are supposed to be romantic? I don't know much about sappy things like this... Reo's more experienced."

"Right... I'm your first, right?"

"We're dating?"

"Something wrong with that?"

"No. I like you a lot. That's all I need to be sure of, right?"

You smile - an image that burns into Nagi's memory. Hey, that look is perfect on you. "Yeah, that's it."

YOICHI ISAGI... your childhood best friend who scored a spot in the same school as you. The type of guy who punches the air and whispers a never-ending chain of 'yes-yes-yes' when he feels lady luck smiling down on him. He's your stereotypical nice guy, but when he dislikes someone... he means it with his whole heart.

The guy that falls in love easily, but strangely, he never falls hard. Given the number of crushes you've heard him sing praises about, it always ended with him saying that he 'realized they weren't a good match' or 'wasn't ready to date'.

It was strange. He never seemed like the type to have fleeting crushes.

YOICHI ISAGI... who slots himself effortlessly into a newfound group of classmates in the first week of school. Can you blame him? He's approachable, friendly, respectable, and... honestly, just a pleasant guy to be around. It's no wonder people gravitated to him. The process of befriending Isagi is seamless.

He's made such a good impression on his peers that they recognize him as a familiar face in the first few days to stick with until they've accustomed themself to this new environment - truly a moth to the flame. However, his fellow classmates have noticed that there's a recurring pattern whenever they decide to latch onto Yoichi; it's that you have a habit of glueing yourself to him as well.

Wherever he went, you were there; right by his side. Or perhaps, speculation suggests that he's your little loyal puppy and not the other way around. The moment you stood up from your seat in the canteen, he followed suit, hands pawing at your wrist and asking where you were headed.

YOICHI ISAGI... who remembers little details about you to the point that people around the two of you have to pause and ask, "Are you two a thing?" multiple times a day. The pure disbelief on their face was entertaining at first, but the questioning escalated to pestering and teasing.

High school sweetheart Isagi here has gotten used to it, laughing it off with a tinge of pink dusted on his cheeks as he brushes them off again. He'd scratch the back of his neck, shrinking back into his own space instead of invading your own bubble (something you didn't mind at all). "No, no... we're not like that." Isagi would insist.

You can't help but feel a little disheartened when you hear his answer.

YOICHI ISAGI... who seems like he was pulled straight out of a teen rom-com movie. The shift in weight when you both bump shoulders while sitting next to each other, the slight touch when you both coincidentally reach for the same thing, the silence that burns from the heavy tension to the skin of your cheeks; it's surreal.

He's not remarkably poetic with words. He's not grandiose with gestures. Perhaps you saw the principle and moral behind all of his little deeds. He picked up your pen for you - he's helpful. He gives the best hugs - he's warm, safe, and comforting. He has this look in his eyes, a look of adoration whenever you begin to speak - it's enchanting. And his body naturally curves to face you, to give you his full attention - he's more handsome up close.

Wait, what are you thinking?

When you eventually did face reality and connected the dots, nothing changed. The world didn't end. Your universe didn't shatter. This revelation changed nothing about the way you've been treating him. Are you even sure you're in love with him?

Or perhaps you had already fallen too deep from the very beginning.

YOICHI ISAGI... who gets egged on by his friends. They eagerly boost him in your direction with a push, nudging him with their elbows, cheering him on as he awkwardly holds a small bouquet of roses for you.

You gasp audibly, your own bunch of friends giggling and giving you their own light shove forward. Was this planned?! This is way too perfect to be a coincidence.

You latch onto him, feet flat on solid ground once more as you straighten your spine. Your gaze locks with Isagi's. Your hands are on his shoulders. Your lips are dangerously inches away from his.

"S-sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Can I be yours?" He interrupts, hands dropping the bouquet to hold you in place by your waist. At this point, there's a crowd gathering to spectate. Your grip on his shoulder tightens. He squeezes your waist gently, as if a message of reassurance, as if a reminder to be honest to him and, more importantly, yourself.

"Am I fleeting crush number 6?" You chuckle.

"You're the love of my life, my number 1."

You could die from the cheesiness, but contradictiously, you feel yourself melting deeper into his arms. After barely any consideration, partially because you already knew the answer your heart desired, you sigh.

"You've got yourself a date." and that cute gleam in his eyes reappeared once more.

Taglist: @dewwberry, @van1lla-alt, @mikmwehehe

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miraculousmultifan · 6 months

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would you love me if i was a lobster?

hi!! its been a while since ive done one of these, but inspiration struck hard for this one. so this little drabble was written for the November 10th STWG daily prompt: "I can explain!" ~~~

When Steve walked into the grocery store looking for ingredients to cook himself another dinner by himself, he really expected to just be in and out. Grab a couple things and go.

The problem arrived when he stepped into the fish section. He was just going to grab a filet of salmon and be on his merry way, but no. There was a man dressed like a lobster standing in his way. He had his face pressed up against the glass of the lobster tank, and he kept muttering things that Steve only caught short snippets of.

“I’ll… free… soon.”

“... claws… your master!”

Sighing deeply, Steve tried to maneuver around the guy, but it was like he suddenly developed a sixth sense for knowing when people were approaching him. Next thing he knew, the guy was whirling around to face him with an angry expression, only to flounder when he made eye contact with Steve.

He looked back and forth between the lobster tank and Steve like he was trying to figure out whether he should abandon… whatever he was doing and run away to avoid talking to Steve, or stay and… continue fogging up the glass with his warm breath.

Hey, now that Steve was paying more attention, the guy kind of looked like… Eddie Munson?

“Munson?” Steve asked and squinted, still not sure whether his eyes were deceiving him. “Is that you?”

Immediately, Munson stood up taller and raised his, uh… claws up in surrender. “I can explain! Just… um, give me a minute to figure out what to say.”

The longer they stood there, the more details Steve was slowly picking up on. For example, Munson’s eyes were so bloodshot that he was ninety-five percent sure the dude was incredibly high, and he kept squeezing the costume’s claws together like he was partly convinced he was a lobster.

Everyone else in the store seemed to be giving them a wide berth, but Steve was uncomfortably arriving at the conclusion that the spectacle was kind of… endearing. He found himself having to hide a smile behind his hand while Eddie turned back to the lobsters in the tank and started asking them to help him come up with an excuse.

Deciding to play along and maybe have a little fun, Steve sidled up to the tank to crouch down beside Munson and whisper playfully, “Is this some sort of jailbreak thing?” Munson yelped and jumped back to gape at Steve, who responded only by grinning up at him and laughing at his reaction. “Aw. What, I can’t know about it? How do you expect to free a bunch of lobsters in broad daylight all by yourself?”

Munson seemed to think on that for a little bit (debating the pros and cons, Steve assumed) before he stuck his hand out for Steve to shake, a mischievous twinkle in his sweet brown doe eyes. “Alright, Harrington. You’ve convinced me. I can’t wait to raise a lobster army with you.”

Steve refused to acknowledge how Eddie Munson’s goofy antics were making him feel all fuzzy and warm inside. Sure, he’s funny, but in a weird way, not a cute way… Right?

Steve tried not to let his growing blush show as he shook Eddie’s hand firmly. He’s just high, Steve. He’s not flirting with you. “It would be an honor.”

(Spoiler alert, past-Steve: he was totally flirting with you).

#stwgdailyprompt #mira writes #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #ficlet #drabble

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harringtonstilinski · 2 years

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It’s A Date - Steve Harrington (Smut)

Author: @harringtonstilinski Characters: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader Word Count: 3,530 Warnings: ST4 spoilers, fluff, little bit of angst Smut: car sex between m+f, mutual masturbation Requested: Nope. Based off a prompt from this list A/N: Hi, friends! Of course, my first Steve Harrington fic is a smut piece, haha! This contains spoilers for S4, so if you haven’t watched it already, pls do not read. If you have any requests for our mom of 6, my askbox is open for requests. I might overuse the gif below because hotdamn🥵!!! Anyways, I hope you like this little piece! If you do, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

“Dusty! Hurry up, you’re gonna be late!”

Do you know how many times a week I hear that? Five. Five days a week! All because my brother is still in his room, doing God knows what!

Upon hearing Mom’s voice calling his name again, I pulled the covers off my body and got out of bed. Opening my bedroom door, I glared at Dustin’s. I walked over to it and opened it up. “If you don’t hurry the hell up, I’m gonna drag you out of here by your hair. Got that, dipshit?”

“Okay, okay,” he said, getting up from his desk chair. “I was talking to Suzie.”

Confused, I asked, “Why?”

“None of your business. Besides, aren’t you late for work?”

Facial expression going serious, I asked, “What time is it?” before going back to my room to look at my clock. “Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. Keith is gonna kill me.”

I quickly changed my shirt and brushed my hair out. Since I had a phone in my room, I called up Family Video. As it rang, I searched for my jeans that I thought were on the floor. They ended up being on my vanity chair.

“Family Video.”

“Steve? Holy shit, thank you for answering.”

“Y/N? Aren’t you supposed to be here by now?”

Resting the phone between my ear and shoulder, I pulled my shorts down and began putting my jeans on. “That’s why I’m calling. I apparently overslept and somebody was supposed to come pick me up.”

“I was? Damn, I forgot. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Cover for me until I get there?”

“What should I tell Keith?”

“Lost track of time running an errand?” I heard Dustin’s voice and got another idea… well, excuse. “I had to wait for Dustin ‘cause Mom needed me to take him to school. It’s also a perfect excuse for me to use the car today.”

“Has anyone seen Y/N?” I heard Keith asked.

“I’m on the phone with her now. She has to wait for her little brother so that she can take him to school.”

Silence. I stopped zipping and buttoning my jeans to hear what else Keith had to say. After a few more seconds of silence, I whispered, “Am I in the clear?”

“Not in the slightest,” Keith answered. “If you’re late again, you’re fired.”

“R-roger that.” I hung up after that, quickly zipping and buttoning my jeans before grabbing my vest with my name tag attached. I went to the kitchen, seeing Mom standing at the sink. “Can I borrow the car?”

“What for?”

Looking around to find the clock I knew was there, I spotted Dustin about to walk out the door. Quickly turning my head back to my mom, I said, “Dustin asked me to take him to school.”

“No, I didn't,” said boy responded, confused.

“Last night, you did.”

“Before you two start up, yes, you can borrow the car,” Mom said.

“Thank you,” I said, kissing her cheek. “I love you! I’ll be safe!” Walking towards Dustin, I said, “Your ass owes me.”

~~~

10:30AM. Only 30 minutes late for work. It took me all of 15 mins to get Dustin to school and myself to work. Did I go over the speed limit? Maybe. Was I driving like I didn’t care about the speed limit? Maybe. I mean, I didn’t get pulled over or anything, so I’m good!

Once I walked in the video store, I was met by Keith at the front counter. “You’re late.”

“Yes, I’m aware. Thank you. We’ve already established this,” I answered. I walked around the counter and straight to the back to set my stuff down and clock in. Once that was done, I immediately got to work on putting away the tapes people had returned.

“And then Vickie laughed,” I heard Robin say. I peaked out from one of the aisles to listen in on her conversation with Steve. “And it wasn’t like a cheap, fake laugh, either. It was like…”

I moved out of the aisle, knowing that she had to be at the basketball game the night before. “It was genuine, right?”

She looked at me and smiled a little. “Yeah. It was.”

“I remember when I used to make someone laugh genuinely,” I said, looking in Steve’s direction.

Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. Steve and I dated for about a year. We got together the night he fought the demodogs, and then we broke up right before I was supposed to leave for school. Yes, my feelings are still there. Are they still there for him? I’m not sure. Anyway.

I went back to putting the movies back up, and before I knew it, about 15 minutes had gone by. Sitting down behind the front counter, I watched the movie that was playing; Doctor Zhivago. Don’t ask. Robin put it on. A body sat down next to me.

“Ya’know, if I’m utterly and totally right, I would say that Steve still has mad feelings for you.”

I looked over Robin, giving her a face of… well, curiosity. I looked back at the tv, crossing my arms. “Yeah, I’m not so sure.”

“Hey, guys, check this out,” Steve said, turning the tv behind the counter on.

Robin and I both moved to the front of the counter; Robin sitting in a chair, me sitting on the counter, and Steve standing. I was in the middle. What was on the television disturbed me; a teenager from Hawkins High was killed.

My first thought was, “Dustin.” I hadn’t realized that I said his name aloud until I felt an arm around me, the hand attached rubbing my left arm up and down.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Steve said.

“Better be,” I said, tearfully. “Or else I’m gonna revive him and kill him myself.” Hearing the front door open, I quickly gathered myself, but was shocked when I heard a voice say, “Hey, Steve.”

I turned around so fast, I thought I gave myself whiplash. “Oh, thank fuck.”

“You see this?” Steve asked.

“How many phones do you have?” Dustin asked, Max right on his tail.

“Someone was murdered.”

“How many phones do you have?” Dustin enunciated.

“Two, why?”

“Actually, we have three,” I said. Robin, Steve, Dustin and Max all four looked at me, but my eyes landed on Steve’s. Shrugging, I said, “If you wanna count Keith’s, it makes three.”

“Three works,” Max said.

“Guys, what’s going on? Does it pertain to the person was murdered?”

Taking off his backpack, Dustin said, “Y/N/N, move.”

Moving, I asked, “What fo–” Interrupting me, Dustin slid his bag across the counter, causing Steve and I to shout, “What are you–?”

“My pile,” Robin complained.

Dustin slid across the front counter, knocking over the tapes Steve stacked, causing him to shout, “No, no, no! My tapes! Dude!”

I had moved as soon as I knew what my brother was doing when he slid his bag and then his body across the counter. I walked up to him as he sat down at the computer. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Setting up base camp,” Dustin said.

“Base camp? Dusty, you can’t do that. This is my place of work.” I looked behind me at the back of the store. “If Keith finds out you’re back here, I’m dead.”

“You won’t,” Steve said.

I looked at him, asking, “What?”

“He left after you got here,” Robin said. “While you were in the back.”

Sighing, I said, “I’m gonna kill him.” Looking back at Dustin, I asked, “Why do you even need the computer?”

“Eddie’s friend’s phone numbers,” Dustin said.

“Your new best friend you think is cooler ‘cause he plays your nerdy game?” Steve asked.

“If you stop complaining about Eddie, I’ll go on a date with you,” I said, looking at Steve.

I turned back around to watch my brother, seeing him writing down names and numbers. Groaning loudly, I walk to the front of the counter to help Robin finish picking up.

“You want me to strangle him or should I let you do those honors?” Steve said.

“Take turns,” Robin said.

“Oooh, good idea,” I smiled, looking back and forth between the two.

“Fill them in, please,” Dustin said.

“Fill us in on what?” Robin asked.

I looked at Max, who looked like she didn’t want to say anything, but told us anyway.

~~~

Apparently, Eddie had killed Chrissy Cunningham, and how he’s on the run from the cops… or at least that’s what I got out of it.

“So, he killed her or something else killed her?” I asked.

“I’m thinking something else,” Max said.

While Robin, Max and Dustin called Eddie’s friends, we ended up getting a few customers in the store, to whom Steve and I both attended to. As I walked past him and a female customer, I overheard him try to explain Doctor Zhivago to the poor girl, who stated she had a boyfriend.

After I was done with my customer, I noticed that Steve had walked this girl to the door and stood there as she got in her car and drove off.

“Stop gawking,” I said. He pulled himself back in the store after saying the GD word. Looking at me, he gave me those eyes that I knew was him beating himself up on the inside. I took a step closer to him, almost chest to chest. “Hey, listen. If you can go the rest of our shift without complaining about Eddie or beating yourself up mentally, I’ll go on a date with you. Tonight.”

“Where?” he asked.

“Lover’s Lake. Pick me up at 9. I’ll be sitting on the trunk of my mom’s car.”

“It’s a date.”

“I might have a lead,” Max said, interrupting our moment. She started explaining something, but all I heard was one name; Reefer Rick.

“Wait a sec, I know him,” I said, walking to the counter.

“You do?” they all asked.

“Yeah. I used to buy weed from him back when I was a sophomore. I know where he lives.”

~~~

Robin, Max and Dustin gave the plan of going to see Reefer Rick as soon as possible. So, the five of us went to see him, only for him to not be at home. We found Eddie, though, in the boat house, hiding in a boat.

He explained what happened with Chrissy after we convinced him to tell us. As he was explaining what happened with her bones and how they were snapping, I shivered and turned my head to the side with my eyes closed.

I jumped when I felt an arm around me again. The arm belonging to Steve. I did what I always did when he did that; curled into him the best I could.

“You all think I’m crazy, right?” Eddie asked.

I looked over at him, sniffling, “No. We don’t think you’re crazy at all.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Y/N! I know how this sounds.”

“We’re not bullshitting you. We believe you.”

“Look,” Dustin said. “What I’m about to tell you might be a little… difficult to take. You know how people say Hawkins is… cursed? They’re not way off.”

Sniffing again, I said, “There’s another world. A world hidden beneath Hawkins, and sometimes it bleeds into ours.” “Like ghosts and shit?” Eddie asked.

“There are some things worse than ghosts,” Max said.

“There’s monsters in this other world,” Dustin said. “We thought they were gone.”

“But they’ve come back before,” I said.

“That’s why we needed to find you.”

“If they’re back again,” Max said. “We need to know.”

“That night,” Robin said. “Did you see anything?”

“Dark particles, maybe?”

Eddie shook his head before Dustin explained, “They would almost look like dust, swirling dust.”

“Or snow,” I said.

“No, there was nothing you could see or touch,” Eddie said. “I tried to wake her. She couldn’t move. It was like she… she was in a trance or something.”

“Or under a spell,” Dustin said.

“A curse.”

“Vecna’s Curse.”

Rubbing my arm again, Steve asked the group, “Who’s Vecna?”

“An undead creature of great power,” Dustin answered.

“A spellcaster,” Eddie said.

“A dark wizard.”

~~~

After taking Max and Robin home, Steve took me and Dustin home… well, mainly Dustin since it was already about 9pm. When he got out of the car, Dustin asked, “Aren’t you coming?”

“Tell mom not to wait up,” I said. “There’s a conversation that needs to happen.” I looked over at Steve for a second before looking at the sky, lightning striking.

“Make it fast.”

Steve drove off towards Lover’s Lake, the silence in the car deafening. “Hey, listen,” he said. “What happened between us–”

“Can we pause this conversation until we get there?” I asked. He sighed and went back to not saying anything. I watched as the rain started to come down, lightly before it gradually got heavier.

I looked out at the lake as soon as Steve put his car in park. After a few seconds of silence, I said, “I don’t know why I did it.” Looking down at my lap, I tried to will the tears back. “I was either scared you’d cheat on me or that I’d cheat on you. Truth is…” I sniffled. “I never stopped caring about you, thinking about you, or… loving you.”

I looked at him, seeing his eyes already on me. “I wouldn’t have.”

“I know, I know, I just– I had that small fear. And no, it wasn’t because I didn’t trust you because I did and still do. It was me and my stupid brain.” I couldn’t hold the tears back as I said, “I’m so sorry, Steve.”

He cradled me the best he could with us being in the car. “Hey, it’s okay. I understood then and I understand now.” I looked up at him the best I could as he looked down at me. “I still love you, too.”

Without thinking, I leaned up and kissed him, feeling him kiss me back. A simple kiss turned into a make out session which turned into me climbing into his lap after he pulled the seat back.

Detaching his lips from mine, he smiled a little, saying, “Bring back memories?”

I took my shirt off and nodded, but I said, “Shut up and kiss me.”

We quickly locked lips again before I helped him take off his shirt. His lips went for my neck as my hands went to the back of his head, gently balling up his hair in my fists. He found my sweet spot, which made me moan.

“God, I’ve missed that sound,” he said.

“Steve,” I breathed.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up, please.” I hadn’t realized that he unhooked my bra and pulled it off my breasts a little until I felt the flesh of his hands on the flesh of my breasts. “Steve, do something.”

I put my arms down, feeling my bra straps fall down before I felt Steve’s hands on my back, pulling me straight. I moaned loudly as I felt his lips wrap around my nipple, him hardening the bud.

Pulling away from my breast with a small pop, Steve said, “There’s my girl,” before moving on to the other one, eliciting another moan from me.

I felt his bulge on my core, so I reached down once he pulled away from my breast again and palmed him through his jeans, making him groan. After doing that for a moment, I looked down at his button and popped it, unzipping his jeans right after.

Without him even saying anything, I got up on my knees as best as I could so that he could slide his jeans down his thighs. Before I could reach into his boxers, he said, “Do you remember where I keep them?”

I nodded, turning my head to the glove box and reaching the best I could to open it and retrieve a condom. Steve and I were both a panting mess, our breathing heavy. I turned back to him, holding the packet up and smiling. “Are we really about to do this?”

He nodded while smiling before taking the packet out of my hand. “Yup.”

I chuckled before I looked down at his package, reaching for it. I looked at him and asked with my eyes if he was totally sure, to which he nodded just slightly.

It’s not like Steve and I never had sex before because we have. We just haven’t had sex in about seven months, so I just wanted to be sure with him before we went any further.

Reaching into his boxers, I wrapped my hand around his hardened length, pumping slowly a few times to get the blood flowing even more. Before long, I started pumping faster, finding a rhythm.

Steve moaned, letting me know he was liking what I was doing. Not realizing that he popped the button on my jeans and unzipped them, I moaned as well when I felt his finger enter my core. Mutual masturbation, I guess.

“Mmmm, baby, baby, baby,” Steve said. “You keep going, I’m gonna cum right all over your hand.”

I stopped, putting my hands on his face to pull him in for a deep kiss. He pulled his hand from my panties before I felt him tap the outside of my thighs. I got up on my knees again before he broke the kiss.

“Sit over there,” he said, breathing heavily.

I did as he asked and sat in the passenger seat to finish undressing, him doing the same. “Do you have a blanket in the back?”

“Always,” he smiled.

I watched as he rolled the condom down his length after taking it from the packet. He grabbed my hand and helped me back over, but not before I hit my head on the roof of the car. “Ow, fuck!”

He chuckled while holding my head, kissing where I hit it. “Are you okay?”

I chuckled as well, looking up at him. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

After calming down, I looked down and grabbed his hardened cock, giving him those eyes once more. He nodded again, so I carefully lined him up with my entrance and slowly slid down, moaning all the way.

“Fuck, I forgot how big you are,” I breathed.

“You know you love it,” he said.

“I do,” I said. “I do.” After adjusting for a moment, I started bouncing… or what bouncing I could do considering we were in his car.

Steve and I were still breathing heavily, moans coming out of my mouth left and right. I felt his hands on my hips, his own meeting mine.

“Wait, wait, wait,” I breathed, stopping my movements. “If you’re wanting to do that, we should lay the seat back. It feels awkward.”

He thought about it for a second before nodding and saying, “You’re right.” He laid the seat back and told me to stay on my knees before we started up again; me bouncing and him thrusting up into me.

With my hair in front of my face and my mouth open, I moaned with every thrust Steve made.

“You’re so beautiful,” he grunted. “So goddamn beautiful.”

“Oh, my god,” I breathed. “I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna–” With one more thrust into me, I came all over Steve’s protected cock. Leaning forward, I caught myself with my hands on the top corners of the seat.

With his hands on my hips, I looked down at Steve, seeing him eye our bodies meeting, sweat forming on his brow. “Almost there,” he grunted.

“Ahhh, fuck,” I moaned loudly.

With one final, “Fuck!” from Steve, he stopped all movements, grunting while his hips jerked, letting me know he had came.

We didn’t move from our positions, just sitting there trying to catch our breaths. After a couple of minutes of being completely still, I moved my hand from the seat to Steve’s cheek, bringing our lips together.

When we pulled apart, we rested our foreheads against each other. I had my eyes closed, so I couldn’t tell if his was open or not.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“I love you, too,” he whispered back. “But, uhm, can you move? I’m getting soft.”

I laughed at his statement, nodding my head. I moved to the backseat, hoping he would pick up what I was laying down. Grabbing the blanket, I wrapped it around myself, noticing that Steve was pulling his boxers and jeans back up.

“Y/N/N?” he asked.

“Back here, dorkwad.”

He turned his head and smiled when our eyes met. He looked at my clothes before handing them back to me, silently telling me to get dressed, and after doing so, he climbed in the back with me, laying down in the seat first before I laid on top of him.

He sighed, rubbing his hands up and down my back. “I’ve missed this.”

“Me, too,” I smiled. “Next time we do this, though, at least take me to dinner first.”

He chuckled before saying, “It’s a date.”

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

A/N 2: hi, friends! i hope did steve harrington justice! i’ve been wanting to write for him since season 3 came out but just didn’t have major inspiration until now! but let me know what you thought! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak

Steve Harrington Taglist: none yet!

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @stilinskiparker.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on June 3, 2022

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #stranger things #joe keery x reader #joe keery x y/n #joe keery smut #steve harrington x henderson!reader

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ax-y10 · 5 months

Text

musician! bur mood board and headcanons

so, i've decided that i am going to be impatient and make headcanons for the inages and how they relate to musician! bur.

i also may or may not have chosen the images with the intent of making headcanons.

oh, and the layout for the order of the photos: first row: 1, 2, 3 second row: 4, 5, 6 third row: 7, 8, 9

anyways, headcanons below the cut:

1. "your voice is my favourite sound"

when wilbur is stuck in a writer's block, he'll listen more intently to when you talk and what you're talking about.

if he thinks it can be used in a song, he'll definitely record the conversation without you knowing.

he'll hint at the fact he wants to use that conversation as backing vocals and such, saying "your voice is my favourite sound" and will casually take a photo of you when you blush at his sly remark.

he wants to make sure every rant, conversation, and random sentences you voice are recorded in history, whether it be in his songs, on his phone, or stored on his computer to listen to as he works.

2. "everything's better with a little background music"

he will say this when you both are doing domestic activities, beabadoobee or the arctic monkeys playing on his speaker

"everything's better with a little background music" when you're washing the dishes, maintaining the lawn, when he's playing guitar for you in his room, when he shouts over the running water of the shower

he lives by this motto. it's constantly uttered every other minute of the day.

absolutely somehow pisses of his bandmates by bringing you on tour and muttering "everything's better with a little background music" at midnight to keep you awake, and just hearing mark shout "wilbur! shut up!"

3. "but wilbur! it's cool!"

one day, you had a need to take photos and keep them to look at later. one of the victims was wilbur's record collection and his headphones

you hadn't brought it up with him, but once he walked into the room with you positioning the headphones and touching his record collection, of course he was going to be anxious. that's his favourite collection!

"y/n! what are you doing?" he said, frantic, almost startling you. "i'm taking photos, wil," it didn't ease him at all. "yes! but i love that collection! please don't touch them!" you paused. "but wilbur! it's cool!"

when you showed you the photo later, he was over-joyed and begged you to make more. as long as you didn't hurt his music.

4. "you look pretty..."

it was a date, and you'd both decided that you were going to go record shopping so you could expand your own collection. wilbur's excuse was that "the atmosphere in the stores are cool! you have to see it!"

wilbur had his phone out the entire time, even though you had asked him to put it away because you felt awkward

you heard him utter "you look pretty..." while you were sifting through different records, immediately looking up at him and seeing a bright flash

when you got home, you saw a different background on his phone. it was the photo he took of you when he called you pretty.

5. "wilbur. smile!"

you were trying to take photos of him after lovejoy performed a gig, but he either wasn't staying still, was somewhere different to you or had the most default expression on his face.

"darling, hold on. let me put my stuff away then you can take a photo," you would not take such disrespect /j

"wilbur. stop real quick" and he stilled, and looked at you, so very unimpressed, so you took a funny photo of him through a small fit of giggles

"wilbur. smile!" you said, hoping to get a better photo, but he walked off, clearly exhausted from the day. so you joined him in bed while showing him all the photos you had of him. he fell asleep...

6. "music heals"

his birthday was coming up soon and you desperately needed to get him a gift. you thought a guitar pick would be perfect because all of his current picks were slowly being worn down from constant playing.

you found a website online that made custom picks, and you were grateful that they were uk based, making it easier to get it shipped to where you lived on time.

you got "music heals" engraved onto the pick, because it was what you always said when wilbur has in a rough spot. and he always ran to get his guitar and happily played for himself while you watched with soft eyes.

when he got it, he cried genuine 'i love you' tears. immediately engulfing you in a bear hug, he pressed soft, loving kisses across your face

7. "you've made a mess!"

for months, you sat in wilburs room with him, watching random videos he had on his phone and listening to silly stories from when they record in the studio

so the first day you go in there to watch in person, you were shocked by what the group left at the end of each rehearsal, specifically wilbur.

mark, joe, and ash all cleaned up after themselves at the end of the studio session, but wilbur left his things on the ground, leaving more mess for everyone else to clean up. you quickly snapped a phot and walked up to wilbur, holding the phone close to his face.

"you've made a mess!" you said, faux angry, clearly meant to be a snarky remark, but wilbur showed the opposite effect. "yes, sweetheart. i'll clean it up in a second," you had to clean it up because he fell asleep

8. "i love it!"

it was after a lovejoy gig when a small meet and greet had created itself. everyone either had a gift for wilbur or wanted to take a photo.

every gift he got, he replied with an enthusiastic "thank you so much!" but one gift stuck out to both you and wilbur.

at this specific gig, you were at his side, half asleep and leaning against him. wilbur would bring every gift into your line of view and you'd give a small smile.

but this gift was a drawing of a record player and a record on it, the small spotify listening line at the bottom. his loud "i love it!" broke you out of your sleepy state, and yet again, another gift was in your eyesight. "i love it!" you'd say, before dragging his ass to bed.

9. "without music, life would be a mistake"

yet again, this is another quote of wilbur's, and is specifically uttered when he feels like shit and is listening to music.

when you both are on a flight with lovejoy, on a car ride with the sorry boys, or simply walking somewhere, you share headphones, and you both listen to his music.

you can sense when he feels like shit, so you whisper under your breath, looking up at him "without music, life would be a mistake" which immediately causes him to look down at you.

with shock in his eyes at the sudden string of words, his flat expression is replaced with a small smile, and he mutters the words back to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before continuing to listen.

#wilbur soot #wilbur #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur imagines #wilbur fluff #wilbur soot headcanons #headcanons #mood board #music #musician! bur #musician! bur headcanons #musician! bur mood board #musician! bur x reader

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seoksgrl · 3 months

Text

rather be dead than cool, 2. : jjk nerd!jungkook x popular!reader college au, dislike to love genderbent she's all that au

tws: rich antics, irene and mina being mean girls, name-calling

m.list prev | next

The address you texted to Jeongguk, after obtaining his mobile number, is in the centre of Gangnam, a street lined with row upon row of stores fit for those who have cash to burn. If you’re going to get Jeon towards your end of the popularity spectrum, it’s imperative that you get him out of whatever baggy, dark outfit he plans to turn up in today. Once the clothes are dealt with, you can work on that shaggy mop of hair before figuring out how to introduce him to your scene.

That will likely be the easier part - once Jeon is seen with you, campus interest will soar.

“How are things going?” Irene coos down the phone, an edge to her tone that often came when the two of you would play these kinds of games. Finding ways to one up the other, whether it be over boys or over money. While Irene is the friend you have known the longest, you can’t say she’s the one you trust. Though, your competitive streaks have always run alongside each other, the perfect match.

You check your appearance in the store window, the first place you’re expecting to visit with Jeongguk. There’s a party this weekend at an old friend’s cabin, and if you’re going to bring Jeongguk, he needs to wear something that will enhance the foundations you managed to spot upon your first meeting. Brushing your hair over your shoulder, you reapply lip balm, using the window as your mirror, “Things are going according to plan. Jeon isn’t anything I can’t handle,”

Irene hums on the other end of the phone, though it’s anything but encouraging, “As long as you don’t plan on throwing in the towel before we’ve even started,”

“Not at all,” You grin at your own reflection, “He’ll be walking into the spring formal with all eyes on him when I’m finished. And I’ll take a ride in the Porsche as a reward,”

You can see it now, Irene’s eyes flashing with annoyance at your confidence. You often wonder if pissing off your best friend should bring you this much joy, but before you can ponder any longer, a familiar dark frame comes into sight down the street, skulking through the people on the sidewalk, and you end the call with Irene as your eyes land on Jeongguk.

He’s dressed in what appears to be his favourite colour, black, paint-stained jeans and an oversized t-shirt. All that covers him from the unpredictable spring weather is a thin, denim jacket - also paint-stained. You wonder if it’s intentional.

He stops in front of you, large frame so imposing you have to take a small step back, your Gucci boots hardly a match for Jeongguk’s height. Your head tilts, eyes meeting his own weary gaze before you flash him your winning smile.

“I’m glad you got here in one piece,” You hadn’t asked if Jeongguk drives, but you assume he must, having walked from the direction of the parking lot behind the row of designer stores, “I hope it was easy for you to find,”

He frowns at that, shuffling from foot to foot and adjusting his backpack a couple times. The wind has already managed to wriggle some fly-away hairs loose from whatever excuse for a ponytail he has, the strands falling around his face and brushing his chin. You cannot wait to get a few inches chopped - the length doesn’t bother you, but you can spot the split ends from here, for goodness sake.

Jeongguk doesn’t reply, and so you press on, still wearing the bright, chirpy grin you save for meeting new people. You always like to make a good first impression, and you remember it being one of the few things your parents instilled in you as a child. Your other habits were picked up from movies, being that you rarely had time to do anything else as a youngster. Father was never home and when mother wasn’t shopping, she was organising charity events for your father and his work colleagues.

You shake away the oddly sombre memory and continue with the task at hand, leading Jeongguk into the first store - Gucci itself.

“We’ll start here,” You say, maintaining control as you lead Jeongguk further into the store, towards where the men’s shirts and slacks are kept, “I have an appointment booked for your hair,”

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Jeongguk reach up and tug at the strands by his chin, brushing them behind his reddened ear. You continue to talk him through the itinerary for the day, though his pleading eyes continue to drill into the side of your head, and you have no choice but to turn, brow quirked, “What’s wrong?”

“I, ah -” He clears his throat, “I can’t afford anything here,”

You wave away Jeongguk’s worries, exhaling a short laugh, “I can take care of it. I have more than enough money, and plenty of good friendships with the staff. You can use my black card,”

“Black card?” He asks, dark brows furrowing, creating a tiny wrinkle between them, “Is that like store credit?”

You exhale again, but this time you’re not laughing. You realise not everyone pays for their tuition into Yonsei, and you’re just now realising perhaps Jeongguk is there on a scholarship. That would mean he’s very talented, something that intrigues you, though you don’t have time to be intrigued by your science experiment.

“It’s a luxury credit card, Jeon,” You blink, “My family is very wealthy, and like I said,” You flip your hair over your shoulder, “I want to help,”

Not completely the truth, but Jeongguk doesn’t need to know that.

His lips part for a couple moments, before falling shut, and you continue walking with him towards the Oxford shirts. The sales assistant, eager and a little annoying, strolls over, their brows raising a fraction when they spot the tall, out-of-place guy beside you. Their lips part, their welcoming disposition betrayed by the obvious judgement in their gaze before their eyes slide back to you.

“Miss Y/N, so lovely to have you back,” The young girl says, hands clasp in front of her, bright pink nails start against the black of her uniform as her eyes once more stray to Jeongguk, confusion marring her strictly sunny expression, “How can we help you today?”

You step forward, gesturing at Jeongguk with one hand and sliding a thumb across your phone screen with another. You had spent last night brainstorming the optimum stylistic direction to take with Jeongguk, wanting to enhance what good features he has in order to make his transformation believable. He still has to win Spring King, after all, and to do that, he needs to look and act the part. Turning up in head-to-toe designer the day after wearing his paint stained baggy jeans isn’t gonna work.

“My friend is looking for a few staple capsule pieces to add to his wardrobe,” You say, walking further into the store, followed closely by the assistant, and then Jeongguk who lags behind, looking entirely like a fish out of water, “Nothing too flashy, just several timeless pieces to get him started. He’s new to designer,”

The shop assistant makes a noise as if to say yeah, I can tell and you raise your brows expectantly, watching as she stumbles over her words, rushing towards the back of the store where the men’s shirts are displayed neatly, “O-of course, miss. Absolutely,”

When you turn, Jeongguk is watching the whole exchange with curiosity and a little disbelief, his brows are drawn together, eyes impossibly brown and impossibly wide. You pause in your step, raising a manicured eyebrow in response, “Do you have something to say?”

“Does everyone always do as you tell them to?”

You smile, “Yes, now come on,” clicking your fingers, you turn and walk to where the assistant is waiting for you, not bothering to turn to check if Jeongguk is following.

He is.

Irene smacks her lips as she reapplies her lipgloss, using the mirrored wall in the new sushi restaurant, Stix, to see her reflection. You watch her fluff up her hair, wiping at the corner of her mouth, and you decide to check over your own appearance.

As expected, it’s flawless. You always apply a lip tint if you know you’re going to be eating, saving you the time of reapplying. Your mother always told you that was rude, and so the habit has stuck. The urge to make a dig at Irene raises it’s ugly head, but you successfully shut it down. After all, you’d hate to make a fuss, and to embarrass your friend.

“Have you played with your little lab rat yet?” Irene asks, grinning as she turns away from the mirror, putting her lip gloss back in her purse and pulling out her compact. Her makeup is flawless, but you don’t say anything as she begins to touch up her already perfect skin.

“I took him shopping a couple days ago,” Mina snickers, and you shrug, continuing, “I didn’t have a lot to work with, new clothes were imperative if I want to recreate his image,”

Irene giggles, “Sounds like you had fun dressing up your little pet project,”

“It was a means to an end. The shirts were basic, Jeongguk didn’t want to branch out,” In fact, he didn’t take any of your fashion advice beyond pointing out what he would need from around the store. He picked up a few white t-shirts, white button-ups and some black slacks. You had to practically force him to get the shoes you suggested, if only to prevent him from wearing Gucci dress pants with his sneakers.

You can safely say you’ve never met someone so stubborn.

“Are you gonna bring him to Jimin’s party on Saturday?” Mina asks, wiggling her brows as if the mere idea is mischievous, “He could be your date,”

Irene let out a yelp of laughter, and Mina joins in, the pair of them cackling like two evil witches. You watch them with a vague sense of annoyance, a familiar flare of stubbornness coming to life in your chest as you remain stone-faced, waiting for their laughter to die down. When it does, it peters out, their eyes shifting between you and each other as the silence grows.

“Y/N, did you hear Mina’s joke?”

“I did,” You smile, cat-like and confident, “I didn’t get the joke. I mean, Jeongguk’s reputation is about to be improved tenfold. Why not let people think he’s my date?”

Mina gasps and Irene’s plucked brows raise in a look of abject horror, she actually puts a hand on her chest as if she has been scandalised by your question. You can hardly see the problem with it - after all, it was your understanding that in order to ensure you winning the bet, the whole thing would end with you and Jeongguk attending the Spring formal together anyway. It makes sense in your head.

“Y/N, you can’t be serious,” Irene says, snorting, “bringing that loser to Jimin’s party? You two just broke up, Jimin will think you have gone insane,”

You frown, taking a sip of water, “I’m not sure about that. Nobody knows who Jeongguk is, and once I’ve got him styled appropriately, people will just assume he’s a random hot guy I’ve picked up. If Jimin can be a cliche and score a cheerleader, why not be a little mysterious?”

Irene mutters, "I don't know about 'hot',"

You smile, brittle and a little annoyed, "He will be when I'm finished with him. Have some faith, Irene,"

When you glance at Mina, she seems to be grasping where you’re coming from, but as per usual, Irene doesn’t see your side of things, and she rolls her eyes, returning to her useless endeavour to fix problems that don’t exist with her makeup. You smile blandly at Mina, sipping at your water and scrolling through your socials.

taglist: @kyglover @jk97bam

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tmntxthings · 9 months

Text

一∑ Electric Shock・゜・。

request: He’s on a solo mission to track down a mutant that appeared on his radar. Tried to get his brothers to tag along but they were too busy with whatever stupid contest. So he goes out to apprehend the evil doer!! Only to appear upon the scene of a beautiful “villain” who keeps zapping all through the electronics at this big store…bonus points if the villain is as energetic as the electricity coursing through them as they zap giddily all around him and make this capture out to be a rather… difficult one? aka Donnie encounters an eccentric, too-much-to-handle cutie

author’s note: for my dearest @marwhoa >.< it’s not much so sorry but I couldn’t really think of a better ending <33 thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy

warnings: rlly short, unedited, fluff

—————————————————————————

When Donnie’s tech worked. It made him ridiculously happy. Something he worked on day and night, coming to life before his fingertips and functioning its intended purpose??? Absolute bliss! So when his radar picked up another mutant on the loose, he was all too happy bounding into the main section of the lair to show his brothers.

“Guys!! Look, my radar hit another mutant’s frequency!”

He wasn’t met with the same enthusiasm. In fact it seemed everyone was hollering and yelling over one another in a heated argument.

“No! Space Heroes is the best show ever—“

About their favorite show..?

“Guys??” Donnie called out, waving his radar in hand. He was quite blatantly ignored as Mikey started covering his ears and screaming in denial that ‘No Space Heroes is laaaame’

Donnie groaned to himself as he departed. He figured he could take this mission solo if no one was even going to pay attention to his presence. “Sometimes I wonder how we’re even ‘related’” Donnie mumbled as he made quick work of grabbing his bo staff and exited the lair out into the sewers.

He decided he would stay underground until he got close enough to the ping that the radar had detected. The occasional beep kept him company as he glanced down every now and again to see if he was getting any closer.

Donnie beamed with pride as the radar started to beep rapidly, indicating he was very close to the target. He turned off the radar, clipped it to the leather strap on his plastron and climbed out of the sewer through a manhole.

It was quiet.. too quiet as he peered around before completely exposing himself to the topside of New York. A couple of yards away sat the most beloved store in the entire city. It held some of the finest tech around and Donnie was beside him to have the chance to look around—

Ah, wait wait no. He was on a mission! Though… the radar had led him here. So maybe the mutant was into tech??? Trying to steal it?!? The thought had him moving towards the building, even if it was just an excuse to get a closer look.

It was way past everyone’s bed time, so the store was rightfully closed. The only light around was from a lone street light—

Scratch that, it just flickered and went off completely.

And that’s when he heard it. Delightful giggles rang out. A symphony of tinkling chimes was what he could compare the sound to. It had him freezing and listening closely.

He wasn’t alone.

Surely it had to be the mutant.

But instead of grabbing his bo, Donnie moved stealthily with the shadows, sticking close to the side of the electronics building. He didn’t know whether to check inside through the glass windows or try to get on the roof for a vantage point of the whole area. Whilst overthinking, the laughter once again had his entire thought process coming to a stop.

And it sounded like it was coming from above..!!!!

As Donnie looked up he literally felt his entire being go slack. His arms that had been pressed into the building’s side went straight down, as his mouth fell open.

A floating, glowing angel— person— no mutant! A beautiful flying, glowing mutant!! He watched as your hand extended out towards the street lamp, it suddenly flared to life, straining with how much light it was producing before the glass containing such velocity shattered.

You laughed once more, “That was nice but not enough, now youuuu~~” Your hand changes direction to the store full of gadgets and gizmos. “You will give me alllll the power I want!” Your body glowed brighter like it was reacting to your excitement. And even though Donnie was clueing in the fact that you were about to steal..energy..? Right yeah that must be it!

So that rounded your description to, beautiful glowing, floating, mutant villain. Bummer. But maybe he could convince you otherwise? It wasn’t exactly the smartest plan he ever came up with, but maybe he wanted to just try talking to you before swinging in with his stick. Yeah. He wanted to make a nice impression.

. . .

And we’re not gonna analyze too closely as to why. Because he surely wasn’t like insta-crushing on you or anything from first sight. Nope. Totallyyyyy not.

“Ahem!”

Donnie coughed and you whipped your head towards the noise, instantly aiming your hand at him. It shined brighter than the rest of your body. As if a ball of pure light was building up in your palm.

“Ah well, I was just wondering if maybe we could talk about not stealing all the energy out of my favorite store??” Donnie stumbled through some of that but mustered up enough will to speak! He felt greener than usual. Was he blushing?!

“Ohhhh,” your hand faltered, going a little dim. “Well, if this is your favorite store… I guess I could go to another!” You surmised cheerily.

Donatello started to smile at the kindness when he realized you were still going to steal. Even if it wasn’t from this store. “Wait wait! Why do you have to steal??”

“Because it’s fun!” That bright smile blinded him. Your statement making it sound as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well there’s definitely more fun things you could be doing..” Donnie tried to reason with you. Not really noting the fact that you were floating lower and closer to his position on the ground.

“Like what Mr…?”

“Oh! Donatello! Donnie I mean—“

“Nice to meetcha!” You bemused. “Now what exactly could be more fun that zapping all the power out of game stores and making me more powerful? Hmmmm?”

“Well!”

You waited with twinkling eyes.

“Uhhhh..”

Donnie swore he had an idea just a second before. But the longer your stared… and the closer you got.. the hotter he felt!! “You sure you can think of anything more fun than that?” You raised an eyebrow cheekily. Donnie swallowed.

“Y-you could hang out with me!”

Donnie closed his eyes promptly cringing at himself. That would probably only be fun for him. It seemed he was instantly hooked on your presence.

“Hmmm maybe so!”

His eyes opened quickly wide with shock. “Really??” It had meant to be just a thought but he spoke it aloud. You laughed for him then. He had made you laugh!!

“Really really,” You playfully winked. Finally stepping out of the sky and standing next to him. You were still glowing, but since you were closer now he saw that it wasn’t exactly on your person. Just surrounding you like a bubble. “Lead the way then Donnie-Bonnie! Where are we gonna go have some fun??”

Donnie absentmindedly wondered if dissuading a villain had ever gone so smoothly before…? He didn’t want to break whatever spell was happening in this moment so he nodded rapidly. Asking about your hobbies (other than stealing energy) and he found out that you quite enjoyed playing games and much as stealing power from them.

He could bring you down to the lair… they had a few arcade games there. But! He didn’t exactly want his brothers stealing all your attention or worse thinking you were an enemy. “I know just the place!” Donnie smiled and the two of you made your way to a late-night arcade. That was the start a very interesting night and an even more promising relationship!

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