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wheeboo · 5 months ago

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just a roommate thing | kim mingyu

SYNOPSIS. in which playful flirting between you and your roommate has always been the norm, but how does that help with how you really feel towards him? PAIRING. kim mingyu x gn!reader (ft. seokmin) GENRE. fluff, humour?, roommates (and prob idiots) to lovers WARNINGS. cursing, slightly suggestive, just... flirting?, reader is shorter than him, mingyu is shirtless, reader is referred as "princess" once, mentioned that reader is wearing makeup, reader dislikes pizza for the sake of plot sorry to my pizza lovers HAHAHA, reader is gender neutral but they briefly compare themselves to another girl, kissing WORD COUNT. 5.2k

requested by anon: Hii, I wanna request a Mingyu fic where him and reader are roomies and they’re very lovey dovey ig but “jokingly”. But then reader is like trying to go on dates and stuff and Mingyus jealous💀 idk man

notes: this was actually a random request that i started months ago and suddenly decided i wanted to finish RIGHT NOW when i was scrolling thru drafts. no idea if the anon who sent this remembers this but um... yeah ! lowk turned out a bit of a mess i think this plot sounded better in my head, enjoy nonetheless :')

You like to think that being roommates with Kim Mingyu is both a blessing and a curse.

You used to believe that having your very first roommate straight up abandon you at the very beginning of the semester was something you could pull off with, because you'd rather be living alone than living with someone you can hardly vibe with. It worked for a while, until the housing department paired you with Kim Mingyu: tall, obnoxiously handsome, ridiculously muscular for seriously no goddamn reason at all, annoyingly charming, and a goofy smile that could light up a room.

Any person would probably kill to be in your place right now, but sometimes you think you'd rather trade places with the pigeons outside your window. Mingyu wasn't a bad roommate𑁋far from it, actually. He kept the apartment spotless, never hogged the bathroom, and even cooks mean late-night ramen whenever you both are drowning in deadlines.

But the problem was, Mingyu was also excruciatingly touchy. Not in a creepy way, but more like a human koala bear who couldn't seem to function without some form of physical contact. Whether it was ruffling your hair as you walked past him, casually draping his arm over your shoulder while watching a movie together, or sneaking up behind you to give you a surprise bear hug while you cooked, there was a line between friendly and... something more.

It was comfortable, almost too comfortable. You told yourself it was just a roommate thing, just a Mingyu thing𑁋that you were both really good friends who happened to be a little more affectionate than most. But you seriously want to smack his head sometimes. And maybe your own too, even if you secretly like the attention. Because deep down, you know there's nothing casual about the way you feel about Mingyu.

But lately, for God's sake, you don't know how much more you can handle.

"Need any help with that?" Mingyu's voice snatches your attention from your aimless stirring of some cookie dough, and your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull.

Here he is. Kim Mingyu in all his glory𑁋shirtless with a towel in-hand dabbing at his dripping strands of hair, his tan skin glistening with droplets of water from the shower. You try your best to keep your gaze focused on the cookie dough in front of you, trying to ignore the way his damp hair sticks to his forehead and how the sight of his abs are practically boring into your soul, but that's easier said than done.

Your throat tightens, and you let out a cough.

"Yeah, um...." You let your eyes drift down to the plain-looking batter of cookie dough in front of you. "Can you grab some chocolate chips from the pantry?"

Mingyu just raises a brow, throwing the towel over his shoulder. "Sure thing, princess."

You feel your cheeks burn unpleasantly at the playful nickname, and you mutter a quick thanks as he saunters past, the scent of his shampoo trailing behind him. You focus back on stirring, trying to ignore the pounding in your chest and the way your fingers fumble against the spoon.

He returns with a bag of chocolate, and as he leans over to pour some into the bowl, your arms brushing lightly. A jolt shoots through you, and you almost drop the spoon. He pauses, eyes meeting yours for a fraction of a second, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them before you get yourself back to mixing the dough again.

"Here, let me help you," Mingyu offers, his hand brushing against yours as he reaches over to try to grab the spoon from your grasp. You can practically feel the warmth of his body radiating through his bare arm.

You let out a scoff, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. "I can handle it, Gyu."

He just chuckles, and the sound seems to send shivers down your spine.

"Nonsense," he insists adamantly, tone playful but there's a pinch of softness in there too. "Two hands are twice as fast, right?"

You roll your eyes in slight annoyance, but a small smile tugs at your lips nonetheless.

"More like twice as messy." Yet you end up surrendering the spoon to him anyway, because simply saying no to him is a strenuous thing to do over anything else. His hand meets yours halfway, fingers touching against your knuckles as he snatches the whisk from your hands.

The heat from his hand lingers even after he pulls away, and you find yourself unable to tear your gaze from him, mesmerised by the way his biceps flex, the way his hair falls in messy dark strands across his forehead, the way his lips curve as he focuses on whisking in a way that's both infuriating and endearing.

But amidst this, you can't help but feel the nagging feeling settling at the pit of your stomach.

"So, what's the occasion?" Mingyu's voice interrupts your thoughts, pulling you back to reality.

You blink, momentarily caught off guard by the question. "Huh?"

Mingyu chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I mean, you don't usually bake cookies on a random Wednesday night. Is there something special going on?"

You swallow, feeling your mind draw a blank, trying to come up with a nonchalant answer. "Oh, you know... just felt like baking."

Mingyu just scoffs, clearly not buying your words. "Come on, Y/N. You're a terrible liar."

God, how can he always see right through you? Does he have some sort of sixth sense? And yet, even despite the discomfort of being so transparent, there's a strange sense of comfort in knowing that Mingyu can see you for who you truly are, except for the one thing you want him to notice about you.

"Fine." You give in, running a slightly frustrated hand through your hair. "It's... Seokmin."

For just a single, most miniscule moment, Mingyu pauses.

"Seokmin?"

You swear you can feel your feet sinking into quicksand. "The guy from my history class, remember? He... uh, I asked him out the other day."

Mingyu's whisking slows down as he processes your words, and you can see a flicker of something in his eyes. But before you can dwell on it further, he masks it with a faint smirk.

"You asked him out?" he asks, as if still trying to wrap his head around it.

"Yeah, I..." You seriously want to sew your mouth shut right now. "I thought I would, um, you know... put myself out there for once."

You watch as Mingyu throws another handful of chocolate chips into the batter, a little more forcefully this time, the clatter against the metal bowl echoing in the sudden silence. You find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from the way his jaw clenches and unclenches.

"So," he continues, seemingly unfazed. "what did he say?"

You hesitate, watching as his hands work the dough, mind whirling with confusion and caution.

"He... um, he said yes."

"Huh," Mingyu murmurs, tone teasing. "And here I thought I was the only one who got to enjoy your company."

His words jab at your heart, a pang of guilt twisting around in your stomach, but you try to brush it off with a forced chuckle.

"You know you're irreplaceable, Gyu."

Mingyu's gaze flickers to yours, and for a moment, you catch a glimpse of... something in his eyes. But before you can decipher it, he offers you a tight-lipped smile, the kind that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Right," he replies casually. "I'm glad you think so."

Mingyu is wearing one of your hoodies.

Sure, you've worn a couple hoodies and sweatshirts that he has given to you out of practicality as they were really oversized and comfortable. But here, in the middle of your kitchen, highlighted under the warm glow of the overhead light and the aroma of cooked ramen, seeing Mingyu draped in your favourite oversized, white hoodie felt awfully intimate, and it brings that overwhelming flutter to your chest.

"Hey," he greets you when you walk in. "How was the date?"

You can still hardly believe what you're seeing right now, gaze staring at the way the fabric seems to cling at this broad frame, and your own lips doesn't seem to be functioning correctly.

"It was, uh... it was good," You manage to stammer out, feeling heat creep up your cheeks and forcing your gaze away from the way Mingyu rolls up his sleeves. "He liked the cookies."

"He liked the cookies?" Mingyu raises an amused brow, leaning against the counter with a casual ease that throws your already flustered mind into further disarray.

You shrug, feeling like your burying yourself down into an inescapable hole. "Yeah, he did. We, uh, had a meal at the park, talked for a while, the usual stuff, you know."

Some silence stretches between you, filled with the soft sizzle of the ramen and the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. You watch the way Mingyu twirls the noodles around a pair of chopsticks, before shutting off the heat of the stove.

"Are you wearing my hoodie?" You ask as he's taking a sip of the soup, the question tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop it. "I swear I've been looking for that one for ages."

Mingyu looks down at himself as if he remembering what he's wearing, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips, and he scratches the back of his neck in a gesture that's so uniquely him𑁋it makes your heart ache.

"I... forgot to do my laundry, and it was the first thing I could find," he admits, then takes a sip of the ramen, eyes meeting yours briefly before dropping back down to the bowl. "Looks comfy on me, though, doesn't it?"

He wasn't wrong. It usually engulfed you, but it hung loosely on Mingyu's bigger frame, the sleeves pushed up past his elbows to reveal his strong forearms.

"Well," You say, clearing your throat. "I wouldn't mind having it back, actually. It's my favourite."

"Yeah?" he tests playfully, raising a mischievous eyebrow. "I don't know, it looks pretty good on me."

You watch as he flexes his arm playfully, making the fabric of the hoodie stretch across his bicep. You can't help but let out a small, choked laugh, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest despite yourself.

"Oh, come on," You fret, trying to keep your voice light. "You got plenty of hoodies, dude."

But Mingyu just takes another casual sip of his ramen, his expression calm.

"Maybe," he says finally. "But this one smells good. It smells like you."

You freeze up. It smells... like me? Well, obviously, it fucking does𑁋

"Just bring it back to me when you're done with it," You say almost lamely, unsure if you wanted to laugh or flee to your room and hide.

"I mean, if you want it so bad I can take it off right no𑁋"

"No! Don't do that. Oh my gosh," You shoot a glare towards him, pursing your lips together tightly at the sight of him reaching for the ends of the hoodie like he was actually about to take it off... right in front of you. "You know what? I'm tired. Goodnight."

You're already marching off to your room in the middle of Mingyu bringing another mouthful of ramen into his mouth.

"Hey!" he calls out to you, nearly spitting out noodles in the process. "Where's my goodnight hug?"

You freeze at that in the middle of your doorway. Seriously, are you really in this deep to the point that you've made it a habit to hug each other before going to bed?

You hardly register Mingyu coming up from behind once you turn around to see him. His mouth is drooped into a pout, eyes half-lidded as he gazes at you expectantly. It’s ridiculous how effortlessly adorable he looks, and your need to be annoyed at him falters each passing second.

"Fine," You relent, stepping forward to give him a very brief, obligatory hug. But the moment you feel his strong arms wrap around you even more, you know it’s not going to be a quick one.

Mingyu’s warmth seeps through the layers of your clothes and down to your core, and you find yourself relaxing against him, as if it was a natural response for your body to do. He squeezes you a little tighter, letting his chin resting lightly on top of your head. A low sigh escapes him.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

You close your eyes, only for a moment, letting yourself relinquish the way he holds you. It feels like everything you’ve been trying to ignore𑁋all laid bare in the simple act of a hug.

"Goodnight, Gyu."

He pulls back slightly, just enough to look down at you, the features to his face softer than you’ve ever seen it. For a moment, you think he might say something more, because his lips seem to attempt at forming a word, yet nothing comes out. But then he simply smiles, and the seconds finally pass.

"Sleep well," he says quietly, releasing you reluctantly, and giving you a gentle pat on the head before heading back to the kitchen.

You have your next date with Seokmin a week later.

You told Mingyu ahead of time as well, and he reacted the same way as last time𑁋nonchalant, playful, a pinch of tease, an averted gaze down towards his phone, and simply bidding you with a have a good time. It was hard to tell if he was genuinely unbothered or if he was just playing it cool, and the thought sort of irked you the entire day.

After Seokmin dropped you off home, you find yourself standing in front of the door to your place, as if you're trying to laser a hole through it with your eyes. Yet you simply huff a breath, fumble with getting the keys out of your bag and inserting it into the keyhole, before stepping inside.

And the fresh smell of food hits you.

It's really hard to not acknowledge the fact that Mingyu is quite literally a living, breathing chef sleeping in the same apartment as you.

Mingyu turns his head around, noticing you standing in the doorway, and lets his gaze scan over you from head to toe. He could see the bits of extra effort you put into your appearance today that he wasn't able to see earlier as he was out. There was a pink colour that dusted over your cheeks of the blush you probably put, a bit of glimmer to your eyes from some eyeshadow, and your lips glossed with a soft sheen that catches the kitchen light just right.

"Hey," he lets out airily, watching you place your bag on the table. "How was the date?"

You run a hand through your hair. "It was... It was good. Seokmin's really nice. He took me to a pizza place."

Mingyu stills at that for a second, lifting a brow in question. "I thought you don't like pizza."

"Well, yeah, but I said it was fine so𑁋"

"If he was going to take you out on more dates, then he should know what kinds of places you don't like to eat."

"I said I was fine with it, Gyu," You retort a bit harshly, immediately regretting your tone in the silence that instantly engulfs the two of you. "We ended up having a good time anyway."

The sounds of something cooking reverberate throughout your shared place. You watch the way Mingyu stirs something in a large pot with a pair of chopsticks, before taking it out, blowing on it a few times, and taking it into his mouth for a brief taste test.

When he puts the chopsticks back down and kills the heat on the stove, he faces back to you with his hands placed firmly on the counter.

"Did you two do anything else?"

The smell of the food makes your stomach rumble quietly, but you attempt to conceal it with clearing your throat. "What do you mean?"

"Like..." Mingyu motions something with his hands and you could only peer at him quizzically. "Like have you𑁋"

"Are… Are you about to ask me if we kissed?" You nearly want to scoff at that. "Do I look like the kind of person that kisses on the second date?"

Mingyu just laughs, tilting his head to the side slightly. "I don't know. Do you?"

All you do is shrug your shoulders, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck. "Well, no, we didn't kiss. We just... talked."

Mingyu seems to take in your words for a second, before nodding slowly. "Okay. That's... That's good."

The way he says it makes you feel a bit uneasy. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, suddenly acutely aware of how tired you are, both from the evening and from this conversation. Mingyu glances at you again, something apologetic forming in his eyes.

"Sorry," he says quietly. "I didn't mean to pry. I just don't want you to get hurt."

"I know, it's... fine," You reply, though you're not sure if it is. "I'm just tired."

Mingyu gestures over to the pot on the stove. "I made some food if you're hungry."

You walk to the side of the kitchen where he's at, taking a peek inside the pot. "Is it...?"

"Yep!" Mingyu exclaims excitedly and steps up beside you, where you could practically feel his presence lingering right on your skin. "My signature jjajangmyeon. Your favourite."

Your stomach rumbles again, and you swear Mingyu hears it from the way his lips quirk up in a smirk down at you. You almost want to (affectionately) shove that expression off his face, but you don't, because his gaze toward you relaxes when you look back up at him. It's a look that feels familiar, comforting, and slightly intimidating all at once.

You feel your heart clench tightly in your chest.

"I'm starting to think," Seokmin starts, loudly slurping up his cup of boba tea. "that this is a very bad idea."

You grimly shove the straw through the plastic and take a long sip, the flavours from the drink bursting in your mouth as you do so. You hear the loud screech of Seokmin bringing his chair closer to the table.

"I'm starting to think it is too."

Seokmin's eyes widen. "You are?" Then he scoots himself closer to you almost pleadingly. "Does that mean you're gonna tell him?"

"I..." You mentally want to facepalm yourself right now. "I don't know."

"Y/N!"

"I know! I know! I'm a coward!" You bury your face in your arms for a moment, letting out a few muffled groans at the cold surface of the table. "We're literally roommates and it complicates everything! There are times where I feel like there's just something a little... more to us, you know? I mean, do you usually give goodnight hugs to your roommate?"

Seokmin snorts a little at that. "I don't think Minghao would like it if I did that to him."

"Okay, okay. Just𑁋If your roommate wasn't Minghao and someone you liked, would you give them goodnight hugs too?"

You could tell Seokmin is genuinely thinking about the question. His lips purse together in thought, his hand running over the sides of his cup.

"If I liked them, I'd probably find any excuse to be close to them. Like sharing food, doing little favours here and there, wanting to hug them and stuff like that..." Seokmin admits a bit bashfully. "Isn't that what he does to you?"

"Yes, and it's driving me absolutely bonkers. And he... He knows a lot about me, you know? We've had, like, late-night talks and stuff. I've never gotten close with any other person like that. He's just so... ugh!" You glance up at Seokmin with helpless eyes. "Sorry for dragging you into this mess, Seokmin."

Seokmin chuckles lightly. "Hey, I only agreed to be your fake boyfriend because I owed you for saving my grades in class. I didn't realise the extent of how bad this is."

You glare at him playfully at that, lightly swatting him on the arm, but Seokmin just manages to dodge it and swipe your cup of boba tea away from you.

"Okay, but, hypothetically speaking. Let's say he does like you..."

You snatch your drink back and take a long sip, catching a boba pearl between your teeth. "Mhm..."

"And I know the whole point of this was to see if he'll get jealous," Seokmin continues. "but let's say he does like you, wouldn't that mean you're kind of... playing with his feelings?"

Seokmin's words make you pause mid-sip. With the straw between your lips, you contemplate his question as you stare blankly at the swirling boba tea. Playing with Mingyu's feelings𑁋could that really be what you're doing? The whole fake dating plan had started as a test of sorts to see if Mingyu would show any signs of jealousy. But now, as you're sitting here with Seokmin, you're starting to think you might have fucked up a bit. Maybe a lot.

"Because I think from all the details that you told me and how he acts around you," Seokmin pauses and fixes up his posture, looking at you with a lighthearted yet serious expression. "it sounds like he likes you. And if he does, pretending to date me is just going to hurt him. Or confuse him. Or both."

Your mind races with Seokmin's words, and you feel a pang of guilt settling in your chest. "You think so?"

"I think it's pretty obvious, honestly."

"That's not reassuring at all."

"Well, you never know!" Seokmin exclaims. "Look, I'm no love expert. Maybe you two have been pining for each other the entire year but just don't have the guts to say anything about it. And if that's the case, you owe me another free meal, or a few them. You owe me another three free meals!"

You scoff at that before bringing the straw up to your mouth again, hoping that you could drink away the heat blooming within your face.

"Ugh, I'm getting headache𑁋"

"Isn't that Mingyu right there?"

You nearly spit out your drink at that, swearing you could hear the snap of your neck as you bring your head up to where Seokmin is looking with wide eyes. And low and behold, you spot Mingyu entering inside the boba shop.

He's not alone though; he's with a girl.

You feel your heart drop down to your feet as you watch them approach to the ordering counter. They seem comfortable with one another, even if you can't hear what they're saying, their easy smiles and relaxed body language twisting your insides into knots. Mingyu leans in slightly, saying something that makes the girl laugh, and you can't help but notice how effortlessly he charms her, just like he does with everyone.

A tap lands on your shoulder, and you face away to see Seokmin looking at you with worried eyes.

"Do you want to leave?" he mouths to you quietly.

You glance back toward Mingyu and the girl, and the second you see them turning in your direction, you shift uncomfortably in your seat, the chair letting out an earth-shattering squeak.

And you freeze up.

"Y/N?"

You slowly turn around to see Mingyu and the girl approach the table. The first thing you notice is how pretty she looks, her long, flowing hair showering down her shoulders in soft waves. There's a cheery, whimsical aura that you can sense from her, and that seems to be enough to convince yourself that's the kind of personality that Mingyu likes.

"Hey," Mingyu calls out to you again, a smile to his face once he realises it's really you. Briefly, however, his lips seem to straighten out when he shoots a glance toward Seokmin. "I didn't know the two of you came here for your date."

Seokmin laughs a bit too obviously. "Yeah, man, what a coinc𑁋"

"We were just leaving, actually." You swiftly grab Seokmin by the wrist, tugging him toward you. Then you offer nothing but an unsteady grin. "I'll see you later, Mingyu."

You drag Seokmin out of the shop before hearing whatever Mingyu was saying, your heart pounding like a damn drum in your chest. You don't look back until you're safely outside and a long distance away.

You let go of Seokmin's hand to catch your breath. And when you manage to pick yourself back up, Seokmin's already peering at you with an amused look.

"What was that?" he asks airily, arching up a single brow. "Did you just run away from your roommate?"

"Be quiet," You hiss back at him, attempting to shove him but failing miserably. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Uh-huh, you hear that?" Seokmin taunts annoyingly, tapping his foot on the ground. "That's the sound of jealousy."

You gulp down a lump in your throat. He's right. You are jealous.

"Dammit," You curse to yourself. "The whole fake dating thing... It was stupid. I thought that, maybe, if Mingyu got jealous, it would mean something. But now, seeing him with that girl..."

"It hit you hard."

"Yeah," You finish simply. "It did."

"And so..." Seokmin lightly nudges you with his hip. "what will the answer be?"

You only narrow your eyes at him, and the resigned sigh that you let out afterwards is enough to send Seokmin's excitement into orbit.

"Yes!" He grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you relentlessly. "I'm getting free food!"

Hours pass, and the ache in your chest hasn't eased.

You find yourself melting into the couch, anxiously tugging the ends of your sleeves as you replay the scene over and over back at the boba place. This stupid plan really had backfired on you big time, like a slap to the face, a punch to the gut, a kick to the heart𑁋all in one go.

Every detail from the way Mingyu and that girl walked in together, the ease with which they interacted, and the pang you felt in your chest from how perfect they appeared right next to each other𑁋it all played on a loop in your mind. You knew now that you have to confront your feelings, but the thought of it makes your stomach twist into a pretzel.

There's some random show playing on the TV in front of you, but you could care less at paying attention to it. The apartment is still quiet since Mingyu wasn't back yet, and you could only clench your fists together in a suppressed fit of panic.

"You're an idiot," You scold yourself, closing your eyes tightly. "A complete idiot. How could you be so stupid𑁋"

A rattle at the locks on the door shuts you up, and maybe the world stops spinning too. You feel yourself sink more into the couch out of anticipation.

When the door swings open, Mingyu steps inside, and you hear the rustling sounds of plastic bags. He peers around the apartment for a moment, and when his eyes land on you, he visibly relaxes.

"Y/N?" Even knowing that he's here, his voice still seems to catch you off-guard every single time. "I brought some ice cream for𑁋"

"I'm not dating Seokmin."

The silence that follows is almost suffocating. Mingyu drops the bag of ice cream on top of the kitchen counter, his gaze still not leaving yours. He blinks a few times, as if processing what you just said.

"You're... not?"

You shake your head, a knot forming in your throat. This is it.

"No, Gyu, I'm not dating him," You clarify, tone more serious this time. "We never dated. It was all fake."

All Mingyu does is continue to stand there under the dim lighting of the kitchen light. You can hardly decipher the expression on his face; it was something between confusion and surprise. You try to catch for signs of disappointment, but when he steps a tad bit closer to you, your mind goes a bit haywire.

"Why?" he finally questions after what seems like an eternity.

You take in a deep breath. "I was... I was stupid, okay? I... I thought that if I could make you jealous, it would mean something. That it would mean..." There's a brief pause as you rekindle yourself. "...that you liked me too."

Mingyu's brows furrow slightly in confusion, and you can't tell if the situation is getting worser or not; if the room was getting hotter and your skin was at the point of boiling; if all of this was already tumbling down before your eyes.

"Look, I know we're roommates. But sometimes I think𑁋I feel like there's more to that. We always hug… and flirt, and I..." You purse your lips together as your tongue struggles to grasp the right words. "I like you, okay? I fell for your stupid smile, your stupid hugs, your stupidly good cooking skills. I fell for everything about you. And I couldn't tell you that because I was scared of fucking everything up."

The room seems to hold its breath as you finish speaking. You feel awfully vulnerable right now, like you've laid bare your heart and soul and every single one of your insecurities. Mingyu only remains still, his eyes with surprise. The silence stretches on, and you find yourself gathering your thoughts together as if sensing impending doom.

You let your shoulders slouch in defeat. "It's fine if you don't feel the same way, we could just𑁋"

"I was jealous."

"𑁋pretend all this never happened𑁋what?"

"Of course I was jealous, Y/N." Mingyu runs a hand through his hair, the action all too endearing. "I was stupid too. For not telling you. For not taking the chance when I could. I was jealous when you talked about Seokmin, but I was also a coward for not wanting to screw anything up.”

You could only knit your brows together dazedly, gazing up at him as if he's said a foreign language. "You... were jealous? What about... what about the girl from earlier?"

"She's just a classmate from my English class, and she's interested in one of my other friends. We just happened to cross paths and I offered to grab boba so I could help her with𑁋"

"Shut up," You suddenly say firmly, and Mingyu does immediately, his focused, half-lidded eyes boring down into yours with a look that sends a jump to your stomach. That was all that you need to hear.

He's practically looming above you. You don't recall how exactly he got closer to you but you have nothing in you to complain. If anything, your feet drag you closer toward him, close enough you're able to smell the faint scent of his cologne and perhaps hear the way his heart is beating just as fast as yours.

With one of your hands, you reach up slowly, letting your fingers toy carefully with the collar of his shirt as you search his eyes for any sign of hesitation. But Mingyu's gaze softens, probably like it always has when he's with you, his breath hitching slightly as your touch lingers on his shirt, curling more into the fabric.

Then your lips tug up into a faint smirk, and you pull him down just slightly.

"Don't make me regret this, Kim Mingyu," is all you say before closing the gap and pressing your mouth against his.

He nearly melts right there at the touch of your lips together, but it doesn’t take him long to be kissing you back with more desperation than you expected. His hands slowly draw down your sides, bringing you even further into his embrace. The briefest contact of the tips of his fingers under your shirt makes you tense.

“I won’t,” he whispers in between kisses. “I won’t.”

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sillygoofyqueer · 3 months ago

Note

Even more thoughts, for you to post if you so choose!

I do love the idea of Shen Yuan having a fancy hair piece with a pin that doubles as a weapon! Just because demon crows don’t have access to spiritual swords doesn’t mean he can’t stab the hell out of you.

For his main weapon, I’m thinking crow demons that can take human form tend to use bows, with the feathers shed by their clan as fletching. (Perhaps demon feathers also grant abilities of some sort to the arrows?)

Looking at the iridescence of crow feathers reminds me of the Chinese tradition of making jewelry with kingfisher feathers. Now I think it would be lovely if the crow demons also had a tradition of fashioning similar jewelry with their own feathers, perhaps treated with solutions and lacquered in a way that brings out even more of their color.

Speaking of colors, while crows aren’t among those birds able to see significant ultraviolet, they are tetrachromats, and thus are able to distinguish colors to a far greater extent than humans. I’m sure his sudden ability to see way more colors than he could in his last life is very perplexing to poor Shen Yuan!

The regular crows acting as an alarm system by cursing and saying spooky nonsense at all unknown visitors is an absolute delight!

I vote that Shen Yuan intentionally never gives them whatever signal that would mark Airplane as a friend, just so they continue to harass the guy every time he comes to visit. 😂

(I’m thinking poor Airplane is trying to set up trade routes for demons, and struggling with the general hostility different types of demons have for one another. Killing interlopers and/or raiding other demons for their stuff is not conductive to trade! It’s no wonder demons lack the arts. Nobody shares anything with anyone, except when giving demon nobles tribute. 😭)

You know, with all the feathers and bird-folks about, the transmigrators probably figure out quill pens. Not sure how big of an improvement they’d be compared to brushes, but they’re at least more like what the transmigrators are used to.

It’d also be funny if all the demon crows and villagers were learning to write simplified Chinese from Shen Yuan, instead of traditional, leading visitors to wonder what the hell is up with this one location’s weird writing system, where half the characters are inexplicably different.

(He probably teaches them traditional too, if only for the sake of reading imported books and things, but simplified is probably faster for personal notes and bookkeeping or the like).

I've always loved when people have weapons in discreet places, so it seemed necessary to dump that onto Shen Yuan because he's the most iconic character ever. Especially CrowYuan as well, it seems like something he'd do just to be safe when it comes to these things - after everything he's read, it's hard not to always be prepared. (Also, a more cheeky reason if I may, imagine Shen Yuan in a sticky situation and he pulls the hair pin out of his hair, now holding a weapon and looking AWESOME as he does it) Also, main weapon as a bow IS MAKING ME LOOOSE MY MIND. Ever since I was little, I've been obsessed with people who use bows (Legolas, Robin Hood, Hawkeye, Kate Bishop, various book characters) and the idea of giving Shen Yuan a bow?? I am dropping to my knees and shaking my fists at the sky. HUZZAAAHH!!! Feathers as fletching is a great idea, almost like a calling card of sorts, as well as a warning. Demon feathers giving certain abilities to arrows is a brilliant idea, such as resilience, poison, increased speeds (useful for high pressure situations where someone has to die before they can be alerted). I'd find it interesting if different demon feathers grant different abilities, and it's almost a norm for these demons to trade feathers! The jewellery idea is absolutely gorgeous and adorable! I was thinking that it could mainly be a crow demon thing, and to have one made for you if you aren't a crow demon is a sign of great trust within the community, a decision that has to be agreed to by at least half of the community! Also, itty bitty angst idea, this jewellery could also be highly sought out because it's gorgeous and its making is entirely a clan secret that is only taught to those within it - so, it's often seen as a spoil of war, a way to brag about a crow demon's death is to wear the jewellery "won" from "battle". Shen Yuan would most definitely be thrown off guard by this wider arrange of colours, often found in the wildest areas of the forest and just staring at everything. At first, he wonders if it's because he's a demon now, but more research (aka, bullying a demon chicken Airplane for answers) shows that it is fact not because he's a demon, but instead because he's a crow. He is both excited that he can see all these colours and fiercely delighted that Airplane can't, because he's a spiteful little shit and I love him. If Airplane comes to visit, he's grown adept to immediately submitting to the harassment of the crows because they soon grow bored of him if they don't get any reaction other than pitiful screaming. (He would highly suffer from trying to set up trade routes as well, lmaooo) OH MY GOD, if Mobei Jun ever comes to visit Bing-ge, he would also be immediately attacked by crows and that is funnier than anything else right now in my mind. His stern face immediately becomes one of absolute outrage, but it quickly becomes confusion when Bing-ge says he can't attack them back because "Shen Yuan would never forgive me" On the idea of feathers as quill pens, that would end up being incredibly useful for them! Perhaps the use of certain demon feathers would be better than others if we go by different demon feathers holding different abilities - for instance, let's say crow feathers hold increased speed, that would be helpful for writing because one would merely need to guide the quill and let it do the rest. However, a demon feather that created a poison effect, let's say chicken feathers, would not be the best for writing, which makes certain feathers more valuable than others for different things! Shen Yuan would be a great teacher, because he knows the traditional Chinese - which is useful for things you previously mentioned - but then he would be able to introduce a whole new writing system that makes it easier to write. This would be especially useful for those who may struggle with the traditional Chinese, because then they would still be able to access writing!! {part seven! part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, and part six!}

#four answers asks #crowyuan au #at least I don't have summer work anymore #scum villian self saving system #scum villain #svsss #svsss au #shen yuan #luo bingge #bingge #binggeyuan

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fairyysoup · 6 months ago

Text

matters of taste

part one (repost)

pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader x eddie munson

summary: Not all trainees are great on the job. Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson in a bakery, however? Absolutely unmatched.

content warnings: explicit (18+ MINORS DNI) smut, threesome - f/m/m, semi-public sex, workplace sex, car sex, handjobs, oral (f+m receiving), cunnilingus, unprotected sex, spitroast, fluids play, dumbification, praise, degradation, implied masochism, mention of housewife kink, steve harrington has a big dick, enemies to lovers-ish but they're all crazy about each other let's be real\

a/n: this is my second time trying to repost this!! let's not talk about how ugly it looks ok i think the header is implying that reader is a sentient pie and honestly... yeah

It’s… you know what. It’s whatever. It’s not a big deal. It’s fine, everything’s fine.

You pause midway through frosting some cinnamon rolls to watch one of the newbies wheeling a cart of mislabelled muffins past your decorating table. You strategically keep your voice void of inflection as you say, “Price stickers, Harrington.”

“FUCK!”

You watch Steve dramatically jostle the cart back around to wheel it toward the rack that contains the multitudes of different flavor and price stickers used in the bakery, swearing like a sailor the whole time. He collides with another cart, and slams it directly into your other trainee, Eddie Munson.

“Shitshitshitshit shit-” Eddie curses and stumbles into a rolling rack of donuts. He grabs the rack before it can topple over, and succeeds in catching four trays of donuts when they fall out of their slots and into his arms.

You roll your eyes at the spectacle the two of them create, which is quickly becoming the norm, and go back to stroking globs of cream cheese frosting across the cinnamon rolls in front of you.

It’s not like they’re the world’s worst trainees or anything. It’s not like they’re completely incompetent, or that they purposefully goes out of their way to make your job unnecessarily difficult or anything. It’s not like, together, they create the most chaotic and hazardous environment possible.

No, sir. Nothing to see here. No problems to be had.

“‘You didn’t put the price stickers on, Steve-’” you hear Steve mocking you in a purposefully insulting falsetto, and give him a side-eye that you know he can’t see. “Mehmehmeh- ‘You didn’t put the bagels in properly. You didn’t frost the bundt cakes just right.’”

“‘You didn’t circumcise the bread bags,’” Eddie adds as he shoves the trays of smushed donuts back onto the rack and grabs a rag to wipe icing from his apron.

“Fucking what?” You turn to look at them fully, holding your frosting covered hands out in front of you.

“I don’t know!” Steve whirls around to sneer at you. His bubblegum pink uniform shirt is just about the same color as his face, rosy and flushed with the heat from the ovens and probably his climbing heart rate. “Why’s everything gotta be packaged differently? It’s just bread!”

“I don’t make the rules! Don’t argue with me and just do it!” That’s another thing. Steve’s just so argumentative, about everything. How you package things, how you wash the dishes, how you clean the floors at the end of the day. Meanwhile, Eddie won’t argue with you per-se, but the day he does something correctly will be the day pigs fly. It’s the most annoying fucking thing you’ve had to deal with at this job, and you’re stuck training them.

It’s not a particularly hard job. You’re just clerks at Mimi’s Bakery, nothing is out of the realm of doability- it’s more of a stamina sport. You’re all closers, so that means a lot of packaging and a lot of cleaning, interspersed with helping some late afternoon and evening customers, within an eight hour shift. It isn’t very busy anymore, either; summer’s over, and you still have about a month until the holiday rushes start. It shouldn’t be too terribly difficult for them, but they’ve both been here for two weeks and still act like they were born yesterday.

Steve spends an extraordinarily long time putting the price tags on the packages of muffins- and putting them on crooked, anyway, so that the entire pile looks janky and rushed despite his slow pace. Eddie’s too busy wiping chocolate icing from his arms to notice Steve’s haphazard labeling.

Your eyes trail the wet rag that Eddie drags across his skin, leaving behind only the ink from his tattoos for you to scrutinize. During the lull, the bakery’s PA system comically offsets the tension in the room with a generic old jazz standard. Your boss, Mimi Callaghan, has an enthusiasm for novelties from her youth- hence the confectionary shop-style pink pinstriped uniform dress you wear, and your clashing forest green apron just oozing with sex appeal. Steve looks like a knockoff Ken doll in his similar blouse and khakis, but he confessed to you on his first day that he used to work at the Scoops Ahoy in the old Hawkins Mall, so you assume he isn’t too phased by it. You’re not about to tell him that he makes it work. Eddie, on the other hand, looks like someone picked him up at the Local Smokes down the street and thrust him into the uniform against his will, like he’s not really supposed to be here. You hate that you find the weird juxtaposition of his tattoos to the pink and green uniform kind of hot.

“Don’t forget to face the shelves when you put them out,” you tell Steve as he pushes the cart past you again.

Steve’s ears glow bright red. “I’ll put out something-”

“Suck my fucking nuts, Harrington, you wanna do the job right or not?”

Eddie cackles loudly as Steve turns around, but instead of glaring at you he just looks mildly amused, like Eddie’s hysterical laughter rubbed off on him. “Why’re you so mean to me, huh?”

“What?” You splutter, gloved hands flexing in the air and squishing frosting between your fingers. “Why- why’re you so fucking difficult? Put the goddamn muffins out, we don’t have all day-”

“I think she likes you, Harrington.”

You squint at Eddie, still rubbing himself down leisurely with the rag, twisting his rings around his fingers idly even though he didn’t even get any icing on them. He leans against the counter with a smirk on his pretty pink lips like he thinks he’s done something. Like there can’t be another reason for why you’re so easily frustrated by Steve- by either of them, really. Like their lack of decorum or work ethic are completely out of the question, you guess, to his way of thinking.

“Like him?” you scoff, trying to appear nonchalant as you go back to smacking cream cheese frosting across the pans of pastries in front of you. “Puh- lease. He’s infuriating, he doesn't listen to directions. Also, Steve, your customer service voice? It- you know what, it’s obnoxious. We work in a bakery, you don’t have to put the moves on every girl that comes in.”

“Oh, okay. Hear me out- maybe you don’t like my customer service voice because you’re jealous.” Steve hums, rocking back on his heels and looking even more smug than he did a few seconds ago. “I can put the moves on you, too, if you’re feeling left out.”

You don’t dignify that offer with a response. You kind of just want to punch him in the face. “Go put the muffins out and let me listen to the goddamn PA in peace.”

He has the decency to look shocked. “You like this goofy old shit?”

“I love this goofy old shit, which is more than I can say about you.”

“It’s okay, sweet pea,” Eddie hums casually, in as condescending of a voice as he can muster. “You don’t have to pretend like you aren’t into Harrington. I know I am.”

“And you, Munson-” You whirl on him, pointing one frosting covered finger angrily in his direction, at which his eyes go all wide and innocent. “Don’t even get me started. Your fucking hair gets everywhere. I swear I had to excavate an entire gerbil from the garlic bread you made yesterday. Take a fucking weedwacker to that thing, for the love of god. And… and your tattoos are fucking dumb.”

You don’t want to admit that you like the sight of the tattoos, actually. When Mimi had told you that the newbies you’d be training were gonna be “that darling Steve Harrington, and his friend, the Munson boy” you’d been a little bit pleased. There isn’t much to admire in a bakery except cakes, and if having the two of them around the bakery means things just got a little more scenic, then you were happy to have them.

Unfortunately, a pretty face often means an infernal personality. Finding one without the other would probably take an act of god at this point. Times two, you got stuck with the fucking chaos twins.

“Dumb?” Eddie wolf whistles. “That smarts, sweetheart. It really does. You haven’t even seen all of my tattoos yet. I’d love to give you a tour of them, though-”

Your face burns at the thought of Eddie Munson letting you get a first class look at his tattoos. He probably has ones in places even god doesn’t know about, and you glare down at the cinnamon rolls in front of you to hide how flustered you are about it. “Fuck you, Munson.”

“I wish you would.”

“For christ’s sake- Steve. Muffins, now.”

Steve does what he’s told, for a change. It doesn’t give you as much of an ego boost as it usually does- really, you just feel sort of dull as you snap your rubber gloves off and throw them in the trash can to the side. You don’t know why you let them bother you as much as they do, but for some reason the just jerk your chain like nothing else.

The bell over the front door jingles, alerting you to the arrival of a customer. You take a quick peek at the ovens behind you to check the time; it’s nearly 8, and the bakery closes at 10. You fight to not roll your eyes as you grab a pair of gloves in case whoever it is wants something out of the display case.

“Hi, what can I get for you?” Your voice is sing-songy enough that you want to smack yourself. A middle aged woman has made a bee-line for the counter, straight past where Steve is bent over a display table, struggling to shift all the old muffin boxes to the top and slide the newer ones underneath them.

You stare at his ass for… probably way longer than necessary, honestly.

The woman points at a singular cake box left on the counter from today’s special orders, and immediately reaches up to take it without any other introduction.

Oh. One of these customers. The ones who come in and grab stuff off the counter without asking for assistance, who will walk back into the kitchen to look at the overstock racks and help themselves to things that haven’t been put out on the floor yet.

A tight smile curls at your lips as you snag the tag on the box and look at the name before she can yank it off the counter from you. “For Linda?”

The woman nods curtly. As you turn the box to face her, your eyes shift back to Steve as he moves around the side of the display table. He stretches his arm out to reach for a stack on a higher shelf, and your eyes linger on the way the short sleeve of his uniform shirt rides up to expose his bicep.

“This is not the cake I ordered.”

“What?” You snap your eyes back to Linda’s pinched face, glaring down at the cake on the counter. It’s a basic sheet cake, with white frosting and a screaming red border, that says ‘Great Job Oscar!’ on it. Not necessarily a masterpiece, but a neat and pretty cake nonetheless.

“I ordered a cake with a winning streak theme. This has nothing on it,” Linda says icily as you snatch up the order slip you had taken off of the box and inspect it.

“A marble quarter sheet with white buttercream and a red border, that says ‘Great Job Oscar!’ in black icing?”

“Yes.”

“That’s… what’s on the cake, ma’am.”

“But there’s no other decoration. Where’s the winning streak theme?”

You blink, and briefly make eye contact with Steve over the woman’s shoulder. He’s all but abandoned his task of stacking muffin boxes, instead watching your face carefully as your conversation plays out. He raises one eyebrow at you, and you’re not sure if that’s him trying to be condescending or supportive.

“I- I apologize, ma’am-” you start, looking for a way to dig your way out of the situation, “The order does say that you requested the theme, but you didn’t specify any decorations. Our decorators won’t take liberties with the order on their own if you don’t request-”

“I don’t have time for this,” Linda interjects, and you clamp your mouth shut with a dull ache beginning to throb in your temples. “I’m supposed to be at a winning streak themed party in twenty minutes and I have an embarrassment of a cake to show for it. I should be reimbursed.”

“The cake wasn’t paid for in advance,” you tell her mildly, trying not to crinkle the page with her order on it as you hold it up.

“Uh… accommodated, then. I shouldn’t have to pay for something I didn’t want in the first place!”

“I’m afraid I can’t just give you a cake for free, ma’am. I’m not authorized.”

“Can I speak to your manager, then?”

You open your mouth to say that, technically, you are what amounts to the shift manager. It’s just you and Eddie and Steve in the store, and even though neither of your job descriptions really include the word ‘manager’ in them, seniority rules over all. You’ve been here long enough to be able to train them, so by right you’re the one in charge.

But then a warm hand touches the curve of your lower back, and Steve appears out of thin air to gently scoot you aside without so much as a hello.

“What seems to be the trouble, ma’am?” Steve smiles, and you could almost mistake him for being sincere if his fingertips didn’t dig into your back just slightly before pulling away.

Linda visibly softens her demeanor, smoothing her stringy blonde hair away from her face. “Are you the manager?”

You scrutinize his profile, trying for all the world to read his fucking mind, because you have no idea what he’s thinking. He’s barely even taken a cake order, let alone dealt with a disgruntled customer with a botched one.

“That, I am!” Steve declares, and oh. Cheeky motherfucker. He’s doing the voice. He bats his eyelashes- big, long, sweeping blinks that you think can make him take flight if he tries much harder. “What can I do for you?”

“This girl,” Linda tells him shortly, not even looking at you when she motions in your direction, “is refusing to compromise about this cake. It’s not what I ordered, and if I have to show up for this party without a winning streak themed cake, I’m going to be embarrassed. The customer is always right!”

“In matters of taste,” Eddie says from over your shoulder.

Linda fixes Eddie with a cold stare. “I’m sorry?”

“That, uh… that saying.” Eddie steps up to your other side, obviously choking back a laugh as he clears his throat. “The full saying is, ‘The customer is always right in matters of taste.’ Meaning you’re right about your order, we can’t argue with your personal preferences.”

“Exactly.” Steve shrugs easily, the picture of self-assurance as he takes the order sheet from your hand and looks it over. You’re not even sure if he entirely understands how to dissect the order sheet itself, but he looks convincing enough while doing it. “If you don’t like the cake, you don’t have to buy it. But my gi- ‘ this’ girl is right.”

You snap your eyes toward Steve, the back of your neck burning. His what?

Steve continues like he’s made no mistake whatsoever. “We can’t give you the cake for free- the only person who can do that is the owner.”

Linda scowls. “‘Take it or leave it,’ you mean?”

Steve affords her a kind smile. “I’d be happy to pull any of our cakes out of the display instead, if you see any you prefer.”

“No,” Linda insists, obviously unhappy about it, “I’ve been coming here for twenty years and this has never happened, the owner knows me-”

“We can call Mimi, if you’d like,” he adds.

“No, like I said, I have a party in twenty minutes,” Linda says sourly, and begins digging through her purse. “No, I’ll pay for this one, I guess.”

Behind the counter, you watch Steve ball up Linda’s cake order sheet in his palm, squeeze it unnecessarily hard, and toss it into the waste bin. Then, faster than fucking lightning, you watch Eddie type the price of the cake into the cash register. He hits the sales tax button twice.

“Come back soon!” Eddie says cheerfully as he hands her the receipt.

You stand motionless behind them both, dumbfounded, until Linda leaves. And then Steve’s immediately cursing, shaking his head as he turns and starts walking toward the back room, hands untying the bow at his waist to undo his apron. “They’ll say anything for free shit. Anything. What the fuck is a ‘winning streak’ theme, anyways? I swear- no, you know what, I don’t actually fucking care. I used to give out freebies all the time at Scoops. But this isn’t corporate, and Mimi knows my family-”

You follow him closely, disappearing into the back with him as he continues blathering. “Why did you do that?”

“Hm?” Steve pauses as he’s pulling his apron over his head, and stares at you for a few seconds, like he doesn’t even know what you’re referring to. And then, you see his brown eyes widen. “Oh! I guess… I mean, I could see it going bad, and I figured if she wasn’t listening to you, then she’d probably listen to me. If I, y’know. Put the moves on her.”

You snort loudly. “Always so fuckin’ cute- I could have handled it myself.”

“No, I know you could have. I know.” Steve nods, his hair sort of fluttering around his face as he looks away from you. “But… y’know, you don’t have to. You shouldn’t have to, while I’m here. I’ve been tortured by KGB and fought monsters, I can deal with an angry customer-”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh. Uh…” He pauses, eyes drifting off to the side, to meet Eddie’s, who trailed behind you into the back room and is lingering over your shoulder. “Dun- Dungeons and… and Dragons? Yeah… yeah! Have you- have you played it?”

“You?” Your giggle splutters loudly in your chest before bubbling up out of your throat unexpectedly. “Steve Harrington plays Dungeons and Dragons? You like that goofy sword and sorcery shit?”

“Fucking metal sword and sorcery shit, thank you very much,” Eddie snaps, and you scoff at him.

Steve chuckles at your little jab at his words from earlier, looking anywhere but at your face. “Yeah, sort of. I mean… Munson taught me a bit about it.”

“Everything he knows.” Eddie’s grin is wide and holds an air of mystery to it, like he knows something you don’t.

“Hm. Put that on a t-shirt for me and maybe I’ll buy it.” You blush, staring at Steve’s profile as he pulls a water bottle out of the employee break cabinet and takes a long drink from it. Then, you turn to Eddie, who leans against the door jamb. “Where’d you learn that thing about ‘the customer is always right,’ anyways?”

“Hm? Oh… I used to help my uncle Wayne in his garage,” Eddie explains nonchalantly. “Learned a lot from watching him deal with customers.”

“Right,” you hum, nodding slowly, and then turn to Steve. “And you. You could get in so much fucking trouble if Mimi finds out about that whole thing. Where did you pick that up?”

“My best friend- Robin Buckley? You know her?” Steve says as he puts the bottle back in the cabinet and snaps it shut. You shake your head, and he goes on. “Yeah. She’s crazy smart. We worked together at Scoops, and Family Video. Always had a way to respond to everything, even though she’s awkward as hell. And before you ask- yes, she would have tried to put the moves on Linda, too.”

“Would she?”

“Oh yeah.” Steve grins at you fondly, making your heart stall in your chest a bit. “Every single move in the book. If you ask me, she’s better with the ladies than I am.”

You laugh, then nod your head slowly, looking him up and down. “Okay. You’re actually fucking hilarious, Harrington. Too bad I hate your guts.”

“Really? I’m moving up in the world.” Steve grunts. “There’s a fine line between love and hate, my darling dearest.”

“Is that why you almost called me ‘your girl?’”

His smirk creates cute little dimples in his cheeks. “No, I almost did that because you’re the only one who can tell me to suck on their nuts, and I’ll actually consider doing it.”

Before you can even take a moment to process that little wise-crack, Eddie’s distracting you. His hand passes through your line of vision, then comes up and presses against the front of your green apron, just against your breast. You genuinely think he’s trying to feel you up, and you snap your eyes down to find his ringed fingers scraping a giant drop of cream cheese frosting off of your chest.

You feel your cheeks heat up. That must have come from when you were frosting the cinnamon rolls- more like smacking them around with frosting, really- and the fact that it was there the entire time Linda was here is more than humiliating. You must have looked like such an idiot, trying to conduct yourself like a manager-

“Messy little thing, aren’t you?” Eddie murmurs, using that same fucking condescending tone that makes your hair stand on end, before meeting your eye and sucking the glob of frosting off of his two fingers.

You get a sudden head rush, and it takes way more self restraint than it should to not audibly whimper. Oh, he really shouldn’t have done that.

You stare at him for a long moment, your eyes flickering between his, and his fingers in between his ungodly pink lips. You… you feel like you’re fucking drowning, floundering around with your head underwater and you don’t know what to do. You snap your eyes to Steve, looking for some sort of sympathy or support, but he doesn’t give you any of that. Instead, he just winks.

No. They absolutely should not have done that.

“Fucking… fuck this. Fuck both of you- I have work to do,” you hiss, trying to skirt past buckets of frosting to get around where Eddie’s blocking the doorway, but he refuses to step aside, instead creating a one-man barricade while he snickers and continues sucking on his fingers just to rile you up even more. “Fucking move, Eddie.”

“Oh, it’s Eddie now?” He grins, obviously enjoying how much you’re struggling, with your chest pushed up against his and your arm nearly circling his waist to lever yourself against the other side of the door.

“Fuck you,” you spit, for a lack of anything else to say.

“For the second time, I wish you would.” Eddie raises his hand and captures your chin, tilting your head up so that you look at him, instead of over his shoulder or to the side at Steve. Your heart jumps into your throat, feeling his damp fingers on your cheek and remembering how he had been sucking on them a second ago. “Might clean out that filthy mouth of yours.”

“What do you think you’re doing, huh?” You snatch Eddie by his pinstriped collar, simultaneously pulling him down to your height and also pushing him back against the wire rack of boxes along the far wall. Eddie curses, stumbling and grabbing onto your hips as if that will steady himself. His nose nudges yours from this angle, and how close you crowd up against him. “You drive me up the fucking wall, Munson. You think you can just sweet talk me like I’m some uptight customer?”

“Woah,” Steve says from behind you, but he doesn’t sound the slightest bit surprised. More amused, and intrigued. “I think you struck a nerve.”

“Did I?” Eddie whispers, with a hint of a smirk still on his face. His dark eyes are looking directly into yours.

He doesn’t even have time to breathe before you kiss him. Desperately. Long and hard and sort of angry, open-mouthed so that you can taste the frosting still on his tongue. He makes the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard- somewhere between a sigh and a moan, as his hands come up to cup your face and pull you closer into him. His knee slotting between your legs, not pushing up but just remaining solidly there for you to lean against it. It takes an inordinate amount of strength for you not to grind yourself down onto his thigh.

“Guess that’s a yes,” Steve says calmly from just beside you.

Eddie pulls back for air, forehead resting against yours, thumbs stroking your cheekbones in a mockery of a tender embrace. “Go on. Show Harrington how much you hate him, too.”

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” you grumble, but your hands have better plans. One stays on Eddie’s shoulder, but the other snatches Steve by the collar and pulls him forward so that you can attack his face with the same amount of fervor. Eddie has no compunction to be gentlemanly- while Steve’s hand rests lightly on your lower back, Eddie’s creeps up underneath your skirt to give your ass a tight squeeze, pulling you forward to grind against his thigh and making you gasp against Steve’s mouth so that his tongue can lick deeper into yours.

Nothing quite prepares you for how Eddie’s voice affects you when he says, “Uh oh, Harrington. I think I was right- she likes you. Don’t you, sweetheart?”

You make a short noise in your throat, your hand sliding down Steve’s chest to his waist, fingers beginning to make quick work of his fly. “Let’s- let’s just double check, huh? Make extra sure.”

“God- yeah. Yeah, okay. Just- be on the safe side.” Steve’s tongue is burning up when it touches your neck, his head nuzzling down so that he can graze your throat with his teeth.

Eddie catches your hand before you manage to wiggle it beneath his waistband, and looks you directly in the eye just before he spits onto your palm. You whimper noisily at the feeling of it, warm and wet, dripping between your fingers while Steve licks at your neck and heat simmers under the tender skin between your thighs.

Air punches from Steve’s mouth when you work his trousers down his hips and pull his erection out of his boxers- he’s not quite pulsing and swollen yet, but your fingertips still just barely manage to meet from how thick he is.

“Jesus Christ, Harrington,” you curse as you give him a languid stroke, feeling him shudder when you brush your thumb over his tip and then drag your hand down his length again. Eddie’s saliva helps to make the motion fluid and smooth, adding a slick sound to punctuate Steve’s loud gasp.

“What?” Steve hisses, trying his best to appear passive, but his voice betrays him and cracks. He gazes at you a bit apprehensively, his doe eyes looking a little foggy with need as they flicker over your face and focus on your lips.

“Nothing on earth needs to be this big.”

Eddie’s free hand coming up to weave through Steve’s hair and jerking his head back. His teeth catch Steve’s earlobe just before he murmurs, “Told ya, big boy.” Eddie looks directly at you over Steve’s shoulder. “Harrington’s packing a fucking monster, isn’t he?”

You hum as you let your fingers drift along the length of him. Steve’s gaze suddenly turns darker, and his chuckle falls flat out of his mouth like an exclamation of awe more than anything. “Think you can take it?”

You don’t answer that. Your grip tightens just a bit and he groans loudly, his eyes rolling back as he tilts his head toward the ceiling. “Are you one of those guys that’ll come as soon as I gag?”

“Fuck, maybe?” Steve’s hands cup the sides of your neck and trail up to cradle your head as you lower yourself in front of him.

Eddie scoffs. “He can’t handle it worth a shit. Don’t go easy on him.”

“Then he’d better hold on to something.” You scrape your nails down his exposed thigh, reveling in the way his entire body shakes at the feeling.

And, without any further warning, you wrap your lips around his cock.

Steve curses, hands balling into fists just before he slams them down against the shelf he’s leaning on. Through your lashes, you watch him gasp for breath and you wonder if he’s honestly going to last long enough to fuck you properly. Not that it really matters, though, because Eddie seems like he’ll be more than happy to pick up where Steve leaves off.

Eddie’s hand rests on the crown of your head, guiding you on Steve’s cock. His tip leaks with precum that tastes salty on your tongue when you lick at his slit, and as you take him further into your mouth, you realize just how right you were. He hits the back of your throat, making tears spring up in your eyes and a quiet moan bubble up out of your chest on its own when you choke.

Steve just about loses his mind over it. He groans loudly, scrambling for a place to put his hands and ending up with a fistful of Eddie’s uniform shirt while he tries to compose himself.

“Holy fuck, you look so good with your mouth full,” Steve grunts, his free hand coming up your chin as he slides his cock out of your mouth and back in again.

“I think I like her more when she can’t talk back to us,” Eddie chuckles darkly, pressing on the back of your head and making you choke again.

Steve hisses, his fingers tightening on your cheek. “Look at me, let me see those eyes- there you go. Pretty baby.”

You whimper, letting your jaw go slack so that Steve can fuck your mouth all he wants while you try to steady yourself. You should hate it. You should hate this- you hate them both. You think.

Wait. Do you?

You’ve never been this needy before, but hell if your cunt isn’t just throbbing in your uncomfortably wet panties, and your nails are digging into Steve’s skin where you grip his thighs for support. If he notices any pain from it, he doesn’t say anything- just keeps giving you these erotic little gasps every time his cock nudges the back of your throat and your eyes flicker shut for a moment before he taps your cheek and makes you open them again.

“We should do this more often,” Steve says thickly, and without thinking, you hum in agreement. You add a little resistance against Eddie’s hand on your head to regain a bit of control, letting your tongue roll against Steve’s length however you want.

“You think she’ll give it this good if she’s getting fucked?” Eddie muses suddenly, his finger’s toying with your hair rather than guiding you anymore.

“Fuck- only one way to find out.” Steve shakily releases the fistful he has of Eddie’s shirt, letting him slip away from his side. Eddie’s hand leaves your head, instead falling to the tie on his apron to start undoing it.

You whine softly, shuffling up on your knees and nearly slipping when you feel Eddie’s hands flipping the skirt of your dress up, exposing you to the cool air. His large hand smooths over the hem of your underwear, then lowers to stroke the cleft of your pussy through the fabric.

“Oh, poor thing.”

“What is it?” Steve asks.

“She’s soaked through these pretty panties,” Eddie coos softly as his fingers stroke back and forth over the fabric, nudging your clit with achingly gentle, indirect touches. You moan, arching your back for more. “Baby got so wet from sucking Steve’s cock, huh? Sweet little pussy needs some attention?”

“Shit. God, that’s so hot. Fuck-” Steve grabs your hair, guiding you off of his cock with a wet noise that makes Eddie’s fingers press on your clit just a little bit harder. You splutter, drool trailing from your lips and dripping down your chin as you try to catch your breath. Something you can’t quite do, because Eddie won’t stop touching you.

Steve tilts your head up, leveraging you backwards a bit as he kneels in front of you. “You want Eddie to fuck you? Is that what you need?”

You nod, wrapping your hand around Steve’s wet cock and giving him a few slow pumps. “Yeah, I-” you hiccup when you feel Eddie’s fingers hook your panties to the side, and dip through your dripping folds, unobstructed. “Oh fuck, I want it so bad.”

“Don’t hate us so goddamn much now?” Eddie croons as he presses two fingers deep into your pussy.

You groan and hang your head, forehead pressing up against Steve’s navel and your nails sinking into the meat of his thigh. You can feel his cock twitch in your hand, and it occurs to you that he likes that pain- or maybe he just likes holding you against him while Eddie fingerfucks you.

Steve’s fingers card through your hair tenderly. “Keep doing what you’re doing, Munson. I think she’s having trouble talking.”

“For a change.” Eddie curls his fingers, and you nearly lose your balance, thankful that you have Steve to hold you up. “So fuckin’ wet… I think I want to taste it first.”

Eddie’s fingers leave you, and you openly sob against Steve’s stomach as his grip tightens in your hair. “E-eddie…”

His two hands curl around the waistband of your panties, and rip through the fabric as though it’s only paper. “Hold her up, Steve, it sounds like she’s gonna need it.”

Steve puts his hands on your shoulders and holds you up, rocking back so that he can get a good look at your face. Eddie spreads your legs apart, and you can feel him crowding his body in between them. There’s a slight pause, and then his tongue touches you, licking a stripe of fucking fire through your cunt from behind.

Oh shit. Holy fucking shit. It’s too good, too warm and slick when you’ve been aching for it for way too long, your clit pulsing desperately and burning hot when his tongue strokes over it. You strain up against Steve’s hands, but he keeps pushing you forward, keeping you there against Eddie’s mouth. You moan obscenely loud, your hands tearing at Steve’s shirt like it’ll somehow convince him to let you go.

“You’re so damn pretty like this, angel,” Steve whispers, tilting your chin up when your head falls so he can keep looking at your face. He’s flushed, his lips parted and his eyes drooping and so dark that you nearly balk under his gaze.

Eddie groans in the back of his throat and finally pulls back, and you’re not sure whether to chase his mouth or to sob for relief, so you sort of do both at the same time. He plants a hand on your ass to keep you from falling backwards into him.

“Fuck, she tastes so sweet. Here-” You feel him move, and then Steve holds up a hand to catch something that Eddie tosses to him.

You lift your eyes and discover that Steve is holding your torn underwear. The light blue fabric looks so out of place and innocent, little pink flowers decorating the waistband. It makes it worse that he’s looking directly at you, keeping you frozen in place. He holds them up to his nose and breathes deeply, letting his eyes flutter shut just briefly before he looks at you again and drags the soaked crotch of them across his tongue.

“Steve…” you breathe, overwhelmed by the sight of him and the sound of his groan of pleasure. You search for something to say to him, but nothing comes before you feel something hot and thick pushing into your soaking entrance. You gasp, and then claw at Steve’s thigh in lieu of something to hold onto. “Fuck, Eddie-”

“Shouldn’t you be choking on Steve’s cock right about now?” Eddie hisses through his teeth, sounding strained and letting out a low groan to punctuate it.

You whine, feeling unbelievably stretched and full as Eddie splits you open, but you still scramble backwards and sink your mouth onto Steve’s cock so quickly that a gasp leaps out of his chest.

Steve punches out a little laugh, his hand twisting your hair and pushing you down until your eyes water. “So agreeable once you get your pussy filled.”

“God, she’s so tight,” Eddie grunts as he hollows out and starts thrusting, reaching deeper inside you each time. You don’t think it’s so much that you’re tight as he’s just big- you haven’t seen his cock, but you can feel it, like you haven’t fucking felt anything else before, and it’s good. You can feel every inch, every ridge, and it makes your eyes fully roll back into your skull. “Fuck, you gotta feel this-”

“Can’t. ‘M not gonna last, shit…” Steve sounds wrecked, his words coming out sharp and desperate. The hand on your head is shaking, and you’re honestly impressed he’s lasted as long as he has. “‘M gonna come down this pretty throat.”

“You hear that, sweet pea? You gonna swallow all of Steve’s cum?” Eddie’s hand weaves through your hair around Steve’s fingers, aiding in shoving your head down onto his cock.

As if you weren’t going to, and as if he wasn’t already fucking your mouth faster than you could reasonably keep up. But you whimper and bury your nose in the patch of coarse hair at the base of Steve’s cock, inhaling his scent and tasting his musky flavor on your tongue, and you swallow around him. And then you keep swallowing, because Steve comes hard.

He sounds absolutely gorgeous when he does it, too. If Eddie wasn’t fucking you so hard that you couldn’t stop whining, you think it would be nearly like a symphony to hear Steve reduced to quiet whimpers. By the time the hands on your head relax enough to let you off of him, though, he’s completely out of breath.

“Good girl,” Steve pants, his hand lifting up to caress your cheek and to wipe a little dribble of his cum from the corner of your mouth, so soft that it could be construed as sweet if there wasn’t any context to it. “Fuck… you were so good.”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Eddie coos into your ear, still driving his hips into yours with such force that it’s jolting you toward Steve. “Good baby, pretty baby- takes cock like a perfect little slut.”

You groan, hanging your head and arching your back toward Eddie. You seize up, your orgasm simmering low in you like the receding tide before a fucking tsunami, and you’re almost scared of how big it feels.

“She liked that,” Eddie chuckles darkly, bending further over you so that his breath tickles your ear. “You like it when I call you a slut, huh? Our perfect. Little. Slut.”

You open your mouth to say his name, tell him to shut up, or keep going, or anything, but all that comes out is a garbled moan. Your hand juts forward and clamps down like a vise onto Steve’s thigh, finding that he’s pulled his pants up. Your nails scratch at stiff khaki twill, trying to beg him to take pity on you, but he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t.

“Pick her up,” Steve says above you. “I want to see her face when she comes.”

Oh, so he’s trying to kill you, actually. That tracks.

Eddie’s arm snakes around your waist and hauls you up, and he rocks back onto his heels to pull your back against his chest. He hugs you close to him, shushing you when his cock hits you from a different angle and you cry out sharply from the feeling.

“Pretty thing can’t take it,” Steve murmurs as he crowds in close, his hands coming up to caress you through your dress. The fabric is too goddamn rough and itchy, and your skin is too sensitive for him to be toying with you now.

“Oh, she can take it.” Eddie sounds so sure, his voice rough and stony as he rocks his pelvis up against you while, at the same time, pulling you down into his lap. “She can take all of it. Can’t you, baby?”

You hope the question is rhetorical. You’re trembling, too lost in the feeling of the mind-numbing bliss Eddie’s giving you to come up with a response at this point. Your hand plunges back over your shoulder into a mess of curly hair, and you feel him turn his head to brush his lips against your ear.

Steve’s hand brushes up your thigh, creeping under your skirt that’s draped across both you and Eddie’s knees. You barely have time to pick your head up and intellectualize what he’s doing before his thumb touches your clit.

“Oh fuck-” Eddie chokes out urgently, just at the same time as you sink your nails into his forearm and all of your floor muscles lock down around him.

And then the tsunami hits.

You nearly scream, your cunt tightening up to wring everything out of the sensation that it can. Eddie’s cock is so hard and it hits inside you so perfectly every time that you swear you’re going to die from it. You’re collapsing forward, despite Eddie’s grip on your waist and Steve’s solid chest creating a barrier for you to fall into- your limbs feel liquid, all your muscles finally relaxing all at once.

You feel Eddie falter, his hand slipping on your waist so that you do fall into Steve’s chest. While Eddie’s cock throbs inside you and his moans fill your ears, Steve’s hands cup your face and tilt your head up toward his. And then his lips are on yours, and his tongue is licking deep into your mouth at the same time as you feel Eddie come deep inside your cunt.

You don’t want Eddie to pull out. Not really. You’re not going to tell him to stay there inside you while you’re both crouched awkwardly on the hard floor, but you do wish he’d take at least a few seconds before he does, because the aching emptiness he leaves in his place is enough to make tears spring up in your eyes.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay, you did so well,” Eddie whispers as you sob openly from the sensation, his arm coming back around your waist to pull you against him. And then you both sort of topple backwards, his shoulders hitting the stacks of backstock frosting buckets as Steve shuffles back to lean against the wire rack across from you. He pulls your legs into his lap and starts stroking his hand across your bare calf.

You try to catch your breath while Eddie reaches for something on the floor off to the side. You blink your eyes open to find him fiddling with his discarded green apron, pulling a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of the pocket in it before wadding it up into a little ball.

He promptly tucks it between your legs and starts cleaning you up with it.

“R’you using your apron… as a cum rag?” You slur tiredly at him, squeaking a little as the rough fabric scrapes across your overly sensitive clit.

“Don’t want to leave a mess,” he mutters easily, making Steve chuckle across from you. “Why s’it that I can fuck you half out of your mind and you’ll still bitch me out about how I clean shit?”

“‘Cause it’s fun t’see you all mad. You’re pretty when you’re pissy.” You feel his chest shake with laughter as he finishes wiping you down and tosses the apron aside, then wraps his arms snugly around your middle.

“Good thing you’re pretty all the time, then.” Eddie huffs, rocking you back and forth a little as he fits his head on your shoulder. You tap your fingers across his forearm, looking down at them and humming contentedly.

“What is it?” Steve asks, smiling at you almost fondly.

You sigh, dragging your fingertip along Eddie’s skin. “I like his tattoos.”

“I knew it,” Eddie whispers, and you can hear the grin in his voice. He nuzzles his nose against your neck, making you giggle and shut your eyes. “I still haven’t shown you the rest of ‘em.”

“There’s always next time.”

Steve blinks. “You want to do this again?”

“Of course I want to fucking do this again, Steve,” you snap, rolling your eyes playflully. “Been wanting to jump both of you since you started, wasn’t it fucking obvious?”

“Was to me.” Eddie’s finger traces along your collar, toying with the first button on the front of your uniform dress. “Also, I haven’t seen your tits, so. I’m not done with you yet.”

“I dunno, the dress kind of does it for me,” Steve admits, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “It’s, uh… cute. Like a 50s housewife or something.”

“Let’s get you a string of pearls and see how long ‘Big Dick’ Harrington lasts then,” Eddie snickers, and you laugh tiredly as you watch Steve flush.

You fall into easy silence, but just as soon as you relax into Eddie’s arms, the bell over the front door of the bakery jingles. And then the hand bell on the front counter dings loudly.

And dings again. And dings again. And dings agai-

“You gonna get it, this time?” Steve asks Eddie, sounding a little bit grumpy already.

“No, I’m gonna hold her a while longer,” Eddie says coolly, not leaving any room for discussion. He presses a tiny kiss to your neck, just underneath your ear, and you squeak in surprise at the lightness of it. “Go get ‘em, Mr. Manager Man.”

“Fuckin’-” Steve rolls his eyes as he gently sets your legs aside before gracelessly clambering up off the ground. He smooths out his uniform, tucking in the tail of his shirt before striding through the door into the kitchen. “What’s up, party people?”

“Do you have any chocolate cakes with white buttercream already made? I need it for tonight.”

Eddie scoffs in your ear, his hand drifting across your thigh to rest just shy of your pussy, making your breath hitch and your hips cant up toward his touch. “They always wait for the last fuckin’ minute, don’t they?”

#eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader x steve harrington #eddie munson x steve harrington #stranger things #roses*

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lookismfanfics · 1 year ago

Text

𝐁𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐.

Notes: If ya’ll want part 3 it’ll probably include Goo, Vin, Daniel, Jihan, and whoever else you guys want. Just a heads up!

Warnings: Fluff, nudity (not explicit), wholesomeness, mild cursing, mentions of violence

Eugene • Gun • Zack • Johan • Jake • Lineman • Jason • Hudson

𝐄𝐮𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞

🝮 The candles, assortments of expensive shampoos, classic piano melodies playing from the speakers, and altogether romantic atmosphere weren’t out of the normal for Eugene.

🝮 Shower time was usually like this. He was busy, and needed to unwind… but in a timely manner.

🝮 The only thing different about the bathroom today was you.

🝮 You. Crouched by the tub, pouring globs of bubble-bath solution carelessly into the foamy water. Wrapped in his a luxurious robe.

🝮 Eugene takes off his quickly-steaming glasses, wiping them gingerly against his shirt.

🝮 “What’s all this about, (Y/N)?” He asks. No doubt he’s forming an answer of his own right now. You smile coyly.

🝮 He likes that smile on you. Your casual wit and intellect never fails to charm his cooly-intelligent and egotistical self.

🝮 “It’s your shower time. Says so on the calendar,” you state. “I told you sharing our Cloud wasn’t an invitation for you to spy on my personal schedule,” he counters.

🝮 He ends up cracking a smile anyway. The type of smile he reserves specifically for your enjoyment.

🝮 “Whatever. Get in.” You gesture towards the tub, unfazed as Eugene stares at you cooly. “Sorry. You want privacy undressing or something?”

🝮 His sharp “yes” falls on deaf ears. You both end up stifling giggles and sharing looks as he piles his clothes on the floor.

🝮 The soap suds in the tub are an off-white color. Eugene hates dyed bath bombs.

🝮 After he submerges himself in the water and has a book in his hand, you take to kissing his knuckles and smoothing out his hair.

🝮 Neither of you converse very much. He smirks whenever your eyes meet, though.

🝮 It’s elegant and intimate. That’s norm for being in a relationship with Eugene.

𝐆𝐮𝐧

🝮 It started off with a workout.

🝮 Gun, the ridiculous bast*rd, trying his hardest to overwork you till your bones break. For the sake of getting stronger.

🝮 And now that that’s over, it’s your turn.

🝮 Exasperated and breathless as you push on his bare chest, trying to force him through the doorway of the bathroom

🝮 “Just— get— in— Gun!” You huff, slapping your hand roughly against the side of his torso.

🝮 He’s such a pig sometimes.

🝮 On his own he walks backwards and sits down in the bathtub. Soapy water engulfs his frame. His normal nonchalance is wasted on you. All he ever seems to do is smirk when you’re around.

🝮 You mumble “jerk” and in response he tells you to “eat ass”

🝮 You hold his head underwater for that-

🝮 He chooses the soap. A musky, expensive brand. Something that smells like him.

🝮 While Gun scrolls boredly through his classical playlist you take off your clothes.

🝮 Hop right in beside him, let him spread his legs and lean against his back. He doesn’t mind. Actually, he prefers it that way.

🝮 “You did good today,” Gun remarks. He leans his head back against the wall. You hum in reply.

🝮 It’s not so much a bath as it is a warm soak.

🝮 Gun’s hands rub down your legs roughly. Even if he isn’t gentle, per say, it feels nice for your aching muscles.

🝮 “You weren’t so bad yourself,” you reply. He chuckles at that.

🝮 You’ll come out of that bath with Gun’s signature scent all over you. He doesn’t mind THAT at all.

𝐙𝐚𝐜𝐤

🝮 If athletic had a scent… then it would smell exactly like Zack Lee’s shampoo.

🝮 He digs his hands into the side of the bathtub and wills himself not to blush as you crouch beside him, pouring more bubble solution into the foggy water.

🝮 “Where’d you buy this anyway?” You ask, knowing Zack doesn’t like buying cheap brands. And it doesn’t smell bad, necessarily.

🝮 He swallows, eyes narrowing and a sheepish flush rising to his face. “I dunno. Do you not like it or something…?”

🝮 “No it’s fine. It smells like you.”

🝮 Zack’s hands are busted. His cracked knuckles are a clear indicator of the fight he had gotten himself into.

🝮 You grumble about it a little, but not too much. Just a simple, “I thought we talked about you getting into fights…” and then you dropped it.

🝮 You lathered your hands with shampoo, scrubbing deep into the roots of his hair.

🝮 You tenderly scrubbed across his body, knowing he was unable to with his mangled hands.

🝮 Sweet, rushed kisses followed. Zack is such a simp— almost completely unable to look you in the eye, let alone return your affection.

🝮 The signiture-athlete-soap was down the drain. Zack dried himself off.

🝮 “You weren’t planning on doing this again… were you?” He calls. When you don’t answer, his chest deflates.

🝮 “(Y/N)— ARUGH!”

🝮 The door slams

🝮 “Why are you naked?!”

🝮 “I’m getting in the shower too…!”

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐚𝐧

🝮 Puppy eyes. That’s what he gives you.

🝮 Where did he learn this sacred guilt-tripping art from? His dogs?

🝮 Either way, you shake your head.

🝮 “Look, you can use the bathroom to shower- or whatever. But I’m not helping you.”

🝮 Johan: 🥺

🝮 Five minutes later, you’re helping him.

🝮 He’s half naked, and had reprimanded you for staring. “It’s not that big of a deal,” or whatever crap he said.

🝮 You are currently checking the water temperature.

🝮 “Look, using my bathtub is pretty straightforward. Once you get it to the temp you like you can just plug in the drain cap. Okay?”

🝮 You demonstrate. Johan nods.

🝮 “Okay. Soap is there… and-yeah. Have fun Johan.”

🝮 You rise, dodging him and beelining for the door. You have other things, after all-

🝮 “Wait,” Johan mumbles.

🝮 You look over your shoulder, met head-on with those baby brown eyes of his. Johan blinks. His brows are furrowed slightly in contemplation. Or whatever is going through his pea-brain.

🝮 “Can you get in with me?”

🝮 🫠

🝮 (I can’t tell you what to do. Hop in or leave him hanging- 💅)

𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞

🝮 His shirt slips off a solid abdomin and exposes inked shoulders and chest. His tattooed arms flex as the shirt falls to the side.

🝮 This display is… seen by no one. Jake has no audience in the empty bathroom but himself.

🝮 He cranes his neck to catch sigh of some scrapes and bruises on his back. It not too difficult. Even through his peripherals the purple splotches are obvious.

🝮 With a sigh, Jake begins to unzip his pants and unclamp his belt—

🝮 THE DOOR CREAKS

🝮 A towel covers him in a second. (Since when has he been self-conscious??) The door opens completely to let you in.

🝮 You… with your arms full of bath and medical supplies.

🝮 You set down the things and face a nervously smiling Jake. The towel is snatched out of his grasp in a millisecond.

🝮 “Don’t bother hiding it Jake. I know you look like a wreck,” you snap.

🝮 Jake? Self-conscious? Nah. Afraid of your wrath? Maybe.

🝮 The water is turned on and soon the bathtub is filled. Eventually the soapy water cradles Jake’s large figure.

🝮 Your hands feel nice against his sore skin, he thinks. He stays still as you wash off his cuts and bruises… let’s you wet his hair and scrub soap into his scalp.

🝮 “I love you,” he smiles. Cheeky.

🝮 You sigh and press a kiss against his cheek. “I know.”

🝮 Bubbles eventually popped… the water was drained. Jake’s favorite part was being dried off anyway. He likes his hair being ruffled by you… the soft towel rubbing down his back and legs.

🝮 In the end he smells like strawberries. You can’t help but tease him about that.

🝮 Argument avoided successfully 👍

𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧

🝮 In all honesty you had never seen Lineman without a shirt on. You’d only… heard about it.

🝮 But anyway. Here you are. Pouring soap onto a washcloth and dabbing it on his temple.

🝮 The excessive amount of bath bombs were completely necessary. You didn’t need to be flashed.

🝮 Lineman sits as still as possible, not wanting soap to get into his eyes. He mumbles about how nice the water feels and how he’s grateful that you’re taking care of him.

🝮 “Why does it smell so peachy?” He asks suddenly, cupping some of the water in his hand.

🝮 You shrug. “It’s just the scent I guess.”

🝮 Bandaids have fallen off and are thrown in the trash. You apply neosporin to the cut over his eyebrow.

🝮 You’re about to pour some water into his hair but he dodges out of the way. Something about a hair routine. Admittedly it is one of his nicest features…

🝮 “Ya don’t have to do that, (Y/N). I’m good,” he tells you sheepishly. He says that a lot actually. He’s capable of turning on the water… cleaning his banged-up body… drying off…

🝮 You do all those things for him anyway. He just complies bashfully and lets it happen.

🝮 Afterwards you ask him to take his clothes off more often (as a joke.) He takes you completely seriously- 😳

𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧

🝮 It’s not that Jason can’t be romantic, but between the two of you, you’re typically the more… intimate one

🝮 This weekend was a bit different though. And without getting into explicit details, you’ve spend a fair share of romantic time together.

🝮 So now, to unwind, you’re grabbing your bath kit and treating the two of you to some self-care. (The bath bombs needed to be used. Lua gifted them to you two Christmas’ ago-)

🝮 You settle for a green colored… minty scented soap. With the pigmented water bubbling and steaming, you decided now was the time to hop in.

🝮 You sink into the tub 🛁

🝮 Jason comes in a few minutes later with some towels and a book for you.

🝮 “Don’t you wanna get in?” You ask. He splashes you with some water and gives some sort of embarrassed reply.

🝮 He uses a loofah to scrub your back. “Isn’t the water too hot?”

🝮 “Nope. Just you.”

🝮 *More aggressive splashing*

🝮 “You’re worse than Jake,” he mumbles, dropping the loofah and sitting against the wall. You just smile in return.

𝐇𝐮𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐧

🝮 “What kind of scents do you like?” You’d ask. He wouldn’t give you an answer.

🝮 “Hudson…! I’m for real!” You’d say. Still, nothing.

🝮 “Please just answer my question-” you grumbled. Nothing.

🝮 Hudson didn’t want you to spoil him (that’s… not exactly what you had in mind but-) and he definitely didn’t need you spending your money on HIS beauty products.

🝮 Ever since he joined the Allied…. Idiots (there’s not a nicer way to put it) he’s begun to realize that his own products and routines are pretty low-key.

🝮 He went over Jay’s penthouse once. To drop something off. The dude was basically butt naked, wearing just a skimpy robe. What was that all about? Apparently he was in the middle of some hour-long beauty ritual.

🝮 Then there’s Zack Lee. Don’t even get Zack STARTED on using hair gel… or washing your face… using an exfoliator…

🝮 Compared to them, Hudson just kinda… showered? The soap brand he used jumped from whatever was available. So when he told you he didn’t have a favorite scent, he was being completely honest.

🝮 So you took a guess. Picked out some honeysuckle bubble soap. Some matching scented shampoo. Now you dip your finger into the water to test if it’s okay.

🝮 Behind you Hudson reluctantly takes off his clothes. He takes better care of his sweater than his pants, which he just flops on the floor and toes out of the way.

🝮 You gesture for him to get in.

🝮 “I never asked you to do this…” he murmurs, slipping underneath the sudsy water.

🝮 You nod. “I know. I just felt like it.”

🝮 You kiss his knuckles and help wash his back. You also tease him about his wet, flat hair—

So sorry for the delay everyone! Going to hustle through requests!!

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thegoldencontracts · 7 months ago

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what would you imagine azul’s ideal first date would be? whatever it was, he’d probably be very awkward, but would try to cover it up, of course, because azul?? being nervous?? no way!!

Don't Question Me!

Epic idea, dearest anon, I love flustered Azul hehe <3

Notes: Teasing reader bc I was in a silly goofy mood

If someone told Azul Ashengrotto that he would be closing the Lounge for an entire night just so he could deal with the anxiety he felt going out with his crush, he would've laughed in their face.

But here he was, sitting in a seat, desperately attempting to keep his composure while you looked at him with amusement in your eyes.

"Hey, Azul," you said, picking at your dinner. "Is something wrong?"

Azul hastily shook his head.

"No, not at all," he said.

You just grinned. He didn't like that look one bit.

"Really?" You said. "You seem nervous."

Azul scoffed. He couldn't let himself be so easily teased.

"Preposterous," he said. He didn't like the way your amusement only seemed to increase at that.

"You don't have to deny it, Azul," you teased. "It's normal to be nervous on a first date."

"I pride myself on deviating from the norm."

"Bold words. Can you prove them?"

What was your agenda here? Were you intending to get something from him? Was this all some convoluted blackmail attempt?

"Of course I can." Azul decided to answer your challenge. "How exactly do you intend for me to do it, then?

You smirked, as if you were completely certain that whatever you said next would render Azul defeated.

"Why don't you let me feed you, darling?"

His face warmed up. Curses.

How was he meant to respond to that? Let you? That seemed like the only way to avoid being teased here.

You sensed the embarrassment radiating off of him, if the way your grin widened was any indication.

"Unless, of course, you're too embarrassed?"

"P-Preposterous!" Azul exclaimed, cursing himself for how flustered he sounded.

"Prove it, then." You didn't give him a moment to compose himself before picking up some of the salad on his plate and putting it up to his mouth. "Say 'ah'."

What sort of game was this? It should've been so easy to just allow you, prove he wasn't flustered by intimacy, put an end to this tomfoolery of yours-

But he couldn't. His face had flushed, his palms dripping with sweat, as if this were some Herculean task rather than an act common during dates.

Why? He was ordinarily so composed - even when the most bone-chilling of insults and threats were hurled at him. He'd spent years ensuring he knew how to effortlessly navigate conversations, but it seemed like that had all been thrown out the window.

You seemed all too smug about this. That wouldn't do. He had to regain his composure.

"Apologies," he said, more mumbled. "I was merely confused at how stupid- er, unfamiliar your behavior is."

The fake Freudian slip - that usually worked. No one managed to see through it.

But, of course, it seemed you were an exception.

"You don't have to get all huffy just because you're too embarrassed to let me feed you, Azul," you crooned, and he could feel his face flush.

"I wasn't intending to call your traditions stupid, that was merely-"

"You never say the entire word when you accidentally say what you think about something," you said. "And your fist always clenches when you realize your mistake."

How did you know him so well? It was mortifying. Flattering, too, but he'd never say that aloud.

That was irrelevant. He had no defense here. What did he do?

"This is all a foolish endeavor," he said, and you merely laughed.

"Aww, is the infamous Octavinelle housewarden getting embawewassed?" Your baby talk was infuriating. "Or maybe you're just nervous?"

You really wanted to make him suffer, didn't you?

"Don't question me!" He said, sounding much louder than he intended. Curses.

He looked away, feeling his lips jut into a pout.

"I'm simply not- all that accustomed to romance."

There was something that felt oddly vulnerable about this, as if he'd just shown you his body lain bare.

He really wasn't. Before you, he hadn't even gone on a date in his life. No one wanted to get anywhere near the ugly little octopus boy from back then, after all.

Would you be the same? Had this all been some elaborate attempt to gather blackmail, or perhaps just a laugh at his expense? It certainly seemed like it.

Your face softened.

"I wasn't trying to make you feel bad, Azul," you said, seeming almost remorseful. "I just- It's so rare to see you out of your element for once. You're always so perfect, so in control that I just, uh, couldn't help but want to see more, y'know?"

That sudden shift in tone was odd.

Wait.

Had he said that out loud?

That wasn't good. He had to regain his composure, reassert himself, he wasn't just some awkward boy!

"It's nice, actually." Your odd statement pulled him from his thoughts.

"What?"

"You know, this," you said, gesturing to him vaguely. "Seeing you act- more like me. Like you're not some vaguely capitalist entity. You look cute when you get all flustered, too."

You thought he was cute? Preposterous. He wasn't cute, he was a businessman, he was intimidating.

And he was hideous. Did you honestly think highly of his appearance?

It felt- nice, in all honesty. Someone who thought he was attractive. But he couldn't assume.

"Spare me the flattery," he said, though he was smiling. "Now then-"

He stood from his seat, extending a hand.

"I'm aware our date's meant to conclude by now, but I must ask for you to continue things back in my dorm."

This was it. This was where he'd see if you were interested in continuing to date him or not. He'd picked out a weekend, made sure your schedule was completely clear, that you had no commitments to attend to. He'd kept this date short to avoid draining your energy.

Now, all that was left was to see how you acted.

You smiled, taking his hand.

"I would love that."

#twisted wonderland x reader #azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland #azul x reader #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x you #fluff #azul ashengrotto x you #twst #twst azul

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fictionalgap · 10 months ago

Text

THE PLAYLIST

Pairing: Loser! College student! Hazel Callahan x Hopeless romantic! College student! Reader

Summary: You are crushing so bad that you made a playlist for her.

Warnings: swearing, kissing

Song recommendations: Look at the bottom of the page.

MASTERLIST 👈

'Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.' you cursed to yourself. You almost accidentally sent the playlist you made for yourself about your crush. It contained the most desperate, soul crushing love songs. You named the playlist 'For you. ' and Imagines sending it to her one day. You thought that day probably never will come tho. Your crush was a bad one. You were friends and it was getting harder to be her friend each day. You were literally gawking at her. Everyone could see that. Everyone but her. Her friends tried to hint her which you appreciated. Even that didn't work out.

You planned to send her the playlist to her millionth time only to give up. You thought It was romantic. Opening up to someone with a playlist. But also there were social norms and nothing could overcome face to face confessions.

You threw your phone on your bed and started to study on your homework.It had been half an hour and you were almost done. You heard voices from hallways of the dormitory. You got up and leaned to the closed door of your dorm.

"Hazel, It's crystal clear. "

"A-are you sure?"

"Hundred percent."

"It was obvious back then and It still is. "

You jumped when you heard the knock on the door.

"PJ! " Hazel whisper shouted.

"Now or never, Haze." She grinned.

You didn't understand what was going on but It made you nervous.

You gulped before you opened the door.

Hazel was standing in front of you with a very nervous face.

"H-hi." She chuckled nervously.

"What's going on, Haze? " You furrowed your brows.

"I-I listened the playlist. It is really nice. I-I loved it and I love you. -"

Her eyes widened all of a sudden.

Her mouth was moving but you couldn't make it. Your brain turned into a blank state.

You thought you heard her say "I love you." and something about 'playlist' .

'Fuck. ' you thought to yourself.

You moved to your bed and checked your phone. You saw that you actually sent her the playlist this time. You turned around to see Hazel waiting for you to say something. You moved to her but you stopped. She wasn't saying anything. You came a little bit close to her. Her gaze came down your lips and it made your heart literally skip a beat. You looked at her lips and saw her coming closer. Which made you lean into her more which ended in a soft kiss. That soft kiss turned into a steamy one. While you were kissing you might heard PJ, Josie and Isabelle grinning from the doorstep of your dorm.

"Love you too... "

#hazel callahan x reader #ruby cruz #hazel callahan #sapphic #bottoms 2023 #bottoms hazel #bottoms movie #lgbtq #wlw #sapphic fanfic #wlw fanfic #lgbt fanfic

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amesvertes · 2 years ago

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hi yami !! i hope you’re having a wonderful day my love! i wanted to request a ronal x black!human! fem!reader fic where reader awakens something in ronal and she’s like “i must’ve been cursed by eywa” and tonowari is like “babe, you think she’s hot 😭”

sjsjsjsjsj i hope this made sense. i’m clearly so down bad for her that i’m being incoherent. thank you for even reading this !! you’re so sweet!

BROWN SKIN GIRL. ronal & tonowari

warnings: minors dni!/swearing/black fem!reader/ronalxreaderxtonowari/allusions to smut in the end. summary: in which you, the pilot who flew norm and max to tend to kiri, end up catching the attention of both the tsahik & olo'eyktan, a/n: allllyyyyy!!!! i love you so much for this request!!! got me writing a part two as we speak.

ronal stepped back as soon as kiri woke up, allowing neytiri to rush to her daughter's side. the sully children gave thanks to her before following their mother's actions, making the tsahik's gaze soften, even if it was for a second.

she soon snapped out of her trance with the sound of tonowari clearing his throat in the entrance of the marui. the tsahik sighed, walking towards her mate with a tired expression. the couple then made their way out, walking side by side towards the beach.

"this family will be the death of me." she grumbled, carrying her basket of tools in one hand while the other held her mate's hand. tonowari chuckled at her words, shaking his head. "they are growing on you, i can tell." he replied, humming softly when ronal nudged him playfully. "they had already grown on you from the start." she teased with the hint of a smile.

"they have strong hearts, and they have learnt our ways quick, haven't they?" tonowari responded, looking down at his mate. ronal sighed, "fine, i'll give them that." her smile finally broke through, making a goofy grin form on tonowari's face, "there's my favourite smile…"

the tall na'vi's voice trailed off as he stopped dead in his tracks, staring straight ahead. ronal's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "what is it? what are you looking at…" the tsahik followed his train of sight.

and there you were, standing next to norm, deep in conversation. your hair was braided back in a similar hairstyle to neytiri's, your skin was a deep brown that glowed in the sun, your lips were glossy and brown before they turned into a shade of pink, your figure was lean and tall, well taller than the other human that had accompanied norm, and, mother of eywa, when you turned to the side the mated couple's eyes widened.

ronal's thoughts were interrupted by tonowari's tail hitting the back of her legs. she nudged him, "why is your tail wagging?" she questioned, accusingly. tonowari's eyes narrowed, "why is your tail wagging?" he countered, making the tsahik look back. and clear as day, her tail was swishing.

"eywa have mercy." she muttered, running a hand over her face. tonowari looked back at her, "you… you don't find her attractive? do you?" he questioned with a pointed expression. "do you find her attractive?" ronal questioned back. tonowari shrugged, "i mean, i don't kn- hey, i asked first." he frowned.

"so what if i do?" she answered quietly making tonowari's eyes widen. "but you do too," ronal added quickly, attempting to brush it off.

they stood in silence for a few seconds, "let's go talk to her."

meanwhile, you stood there, oblivious to the gawking taking place a few metres away from you.

you snickered, "well maybe, just maybe, eywa is real." you spoke, preparing yourself for the argument norm was about to present. "but-" you shushed him, "don't get your panties in a twist, we'll probably never know the answer. but if what that lady was doing worked, without medicine, there could be a possibility. but hey, what do i know? i'm just a pilot." you shrugged as norm shook his head.

"first of all, that lady was the tsahik. secondly, she's staring at us right now so if we're in trouble it's your fault." you turned at his words, confusion etched into your face.

and surely enough there were two na'vis, burning holes into the back of your head. you turned back to norm quickly, "oh no, you don't think she heard me, do you?" you questioned, shuddering. norm shrugged, "why don't you ask her?"

you turned once again, only to see them walking towards you. "shit." you cursed under your breath turning back immediately to norm.

"you," a deep voice spoke from behind you, making you jump in surprise before you turned around.

you looked up at the source of the voice, a tall, handsome na'vi with tied back curly hair. his eyes were an electric blue, staring down at you with an unreadable expression.

"what are you called?" the tsahik asked next, looking down at you with the same strange expression.

you were quiet for a few seconds, shocked to your core, but norm quickly kicked you in the shin. "i- er- y/n, y/n l/n." you coughed out, clearing your throat awkwardly afterwards.

"well, y/nl/n, you cannot leave." the male spoke once again. you choked on your saliva, "excuse me?" you rose one of your eyebrows and placed your hands on your hips.

"my mate means you cannot leave, tonight. there is a storm brewing in the direction you came that will last for a few days. it will be dangerous for flying in your- sky people contraption. we advise you to stay if you wish to live." the tsahik spoke, her voice was rich and melodic, very much like her husband's.

you gnawed on your lip before sighing in defeat, "is there any place for us to stay? and any change of clothes?" you asked.

ronal almost got light headed with the thought of you in metkayina clothing, skin exposed.

"there is an empty marui near jakesully's, and i'm sure my wife can heir a seamstress to make you something." the olo'eyktan smiled, a smile that sent goose bumps all over your skin. ronal nodded in agreement, shooting you the same chilling smile. you sighed, "okay."

now it was night time and you stood in front of a mirror, staring at yourself while the hired seamstress pulled at your new and improved clothing.

the loincloth made for you was, skimpy to say the least. it consisted of a thong a makeshift mini skirt made out of small shell chains that hardly hid the flesh of your ass. your top wasn't at all modest either, made out of shells once again, but it thankfully hid your now perky nipples.

the seamstress hummed in what sounded like approval, "nice body, but short." she poked at your ass making you yelp. you huffed, staring at yourself in the mirror once again. "no time for admiration, food is finishing." she reminded you, making sure you left her marui and walked towards the bonfire.

"here goes nothing…"

you walked into the clearing, trying to ignore the stares being given your way as you squeezed pass groups of metkayina people, careful not to step on anyone's tail.

the fish you were given was smaller compared to everyone else's, but you didn't mind, you wouldn't be able to finish anything of that amount. you sighed as you looked around the sea of people, wishing the sully's hadn't stayed in to tend to kiri.

so you decided to head down to the beach, sitting on a rock near your helicopter and eating with the eclipse being your only form of entertainment.

you had also been given a wine red drink that smelled like it would taste like grape fruits. you took a sip, humming softly at the taste, it did taste like grapefruits, but sweeter.

ronal watched you from a distance, sitting next from tonowari as they ate in silence. "wari?" she nudged him, "hmm?"

"did you see what she was wearing?" she asked, taking small sips from her drink. tonowari's ears perked up at the topic of you, "no, unfortunately. did you?" he replied. ronal shook her head, still looking at you.

"she's alone." she stood up, drowning her drink. tonowari looked up at here with a confused look, "so?" he asked. ronal rolled her eyes, "let's go talk to her." she didn't wait for a response as she made her way to you.

your plate was empty now as you sat, legs apart, drinking the remains of your beverage. from the warm fuzzy feeling you felt it was probably the na'vi version of alcohol, not that you were complaining though.

you were about to get when two people joined you, those people being tonowari and ronal, of course.

it took a while for your eyes to adjust in the faint light, but as soon as you made out their faces the feeling of sudden self awareness took over you. "oel ngati kameie, tsahik, olo'eyktan." you spoke, sliding off the rock and gathering your things.

"not so fast, little one. we came to see your clothes…" tonowari trailed off as he took your appearance in. ronal did the same, visibly tensing up.

you subconsciously crossed your arms over your chest, "yeah, um, thank you for getting them made, and for the accomo-" you were cut off by a pair of lips smashing onto yours and a pair of hands pulling you back onto the rock.

you pulled away, heart racing as you were met with ronal's face. and hey, maybe it was the alcohol but as soon as you caught your breath you pulled her in for another kiss, moaning into her mouth as she pushed you against the surface of the rock.

you had almost forgotten about tonowari until you felt a hand start to tug your loincloth down your face, exposing your heat to the cool breeze.

ronal pulled away, slightly panting as she looked down at you. "let's welcome you to metkayina, properly."

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adrunkskeletonsduck · 2 years ago

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Soooo I’m a sucker for Jake sully and Neteyam. I don’t mind either of them but could you perhaps idk write something with a female omaticaya reader. Where she is in an argument with Jake or Neteyam. Something with the reader getting hurt due to not listening to not join the fight against the sky people or something like that. (Let’s just pretend Neteyam never died TTATT). Them being furious and cold towards the reader where it ends up in a heated argument…but with a fluff ending.

Sᴀʏɪɴ’ Tʜɪɴɢs Tʜᴀᴛ Yᴏᴜ Cᴀɴ’ᴛ Sᴀʏ

➜ Pairing: Neteyam x fem!Omitikaya!reader

➜ Summary: You’d ignored Neteyam when he told you to stay back and ended up getting hurt saving his life. Now as you sit together in silence while patching him up, he can’t help but feel it’s his fault.

➜ Warnings: Mentions of blood and injury, mentions of death, Neteyam blaming himself, angsty (?) at first but fluff ending

➜ Word Count: 1.1k

➜ Notes: I’m already so close to 400, what??

The minute you returned to the Metikayina village you knew you were in for it. You’d avoided Neteyam as much as you could, which wasn’t exactly hard because you had a bullet wound in your shoulder that was bleeding profusely and needed to be treated, giving every excuse in the book as why you needed to be somewhere else and not in the Murui pod with the rest of the Sully family, until finally Neytiri had to be pulled away for something and handed him of to you to finish treating the cuts all over his body because Kiri was asleep and neither of you wanted to wake her. So, you were stuck gritting your teeth through the pain of moving your arm and doing your best to ignore the pounding headache that was coming on.

Your adrenaline was long been gone, as it was almost an hour after the fight, but as you sat next to him, finishing the stitches on his last wound where the bullet had just barley grazed him before hitting you, and listening to your thundering heartbeat, you felt as if it was still pumping through your veins.

Neteyam hissed as you tugged on the string a bit too harshly as you tied off the final row of stitches.

“Sorry,” you whispered. It was probably the first word you’d said to him since you’d gotten back.

“You have bigger things to be sorry about,” he mumbled back, annoyance lacing his tone and you winced. The time had come.

“Before you say anything,” you said quickly, jumping to defend yourself “I know you told me to stay back but-” Neteyam cut you off sharply, bottled up rage pouring into his words.

“You got shot – fuck – if it had even been a little closer to your heart, you would have died!” It was rare that Neteyam would curse, especially when speaking with you, and he almost never raised his voice either, so instantly you understood just how angry you’d made him. Even so you couldn’t help raise an eyebrow at his statement.

“Me gotten hurt?” you asked bewilderedly, “I saved your life! If I hadn't been in there that bullet would be in your heart!” you jabbed a finger into his chest harshly to emphasize your point.

He scoffed shaking his head as you turned away to pack the needle and thread back into the first aid-kit Norm and Max had left behind after their last visit to help Kiri. You understood how lucky you’d been to get away from the scene with your life when many others hadn't.

“I knew what I was getting into though!” he said angerly, and that ticked you off.

Snapping the case closed roughly, you whirled around, and it caused pain to shoot down your arm, but you simply gritted your teeth even harder and ignored it “Do not discredit me. I knew exactly what I was getting into. I knew the risks just as well as you did,” you said furiously.

He gritted his teeth, “That still doesn’t change the fact that I specifically told you to stay back.”

“I couldn’t just let you go out there alone!”

“But that was what I asked of you!”

You shook your head, “If anything had happened and I wasn’t there to at least try and save you, I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself.” He didn’t reply, wordlessly dragging a hand down his face in frustration. The silence was deafening as he thought, the air so thick with tension you could cut it.

“What if you had died saving me tonight?” he finally asked, “How would I be able to go on, knowing that I was the reason you weren't there with me?” You were taken aback, stuttering to answer him as he pressed you for an answer that you couldn’t provide him with.

“But I didn’t,” you said after a moment, your voice firm and confident.

“And what if you had, hm? Do you really think I deserve to carry that guilt?” he asked, anger and hurt rolling of him in weaves. It was all too much for him, the stress of the day mixed with the knowledge that he was the reason you were hurt. Tears began to form in his eyes and you couldn’t find it in you to be angry anymore as you saw how your reckless actions affected him and realized that he blamed himself for your injury. Suddenly you felt awful, guilt pooling in your stomach.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, stepping towards him to cup his cheek in an attempt at comfort, but he slapped your hand away.

“This is not a game y/n; this is your life! You cannot just go making reckless decisions like that, because if you died, I don’t know what I would do.” he seethed. He didn’t understand, had he not conveyed to you how important you were to him? Had you not taken him seriously when he told you that he wouldn’t be able to live without you?

You reached to take his face in your hands, and this time he let you, looking at him softly. Your eyes were equally as glossy as you held his gaze, rubbing soothing circle into the plush of his cheeks, carefully avoiding the fresh cuts and bruises. All you wanted to do was lay down with your lover and drift off to sleep in his arms.

“It’s not your fault I got shot” you said softly, voice wavering as you reasoned with him, “I made a choice to push you out of the way, to take a bullet for you. It was my decision, not yours. You got that?”

He exhaled heavily, leaning his forehead against yours and slipping his eyes shut, “You scared me today,” he whispered to you,

“I know,” you whispered back,

“Don't you ever do that again.” You nodded your head in agreement, pulling away to place a kiss to his forehead and wipe at the damp skin under his eyes. He pulled you back into his chest, allowing himself a moment to simply hold you, to feel your heart beating in your chest against his, to listen to the soft sound of your breath, to feel your warm skin pressed against his. Neteyam reveled in the moment quietly, dreading its inevitable end.

And as you pulled away, coaxed him to bed, and laid down in his arms, tucking your head in the crook of his neck and letting him kiss you goodnight, Neteyam stayed wide awake, whispering his thanks to the great mother until mouth was dry and his throat was raw, for he would be internally grateful.

#adrunkskeletonsduck #neteyam x reader #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam avatar #x metkayina!reader #x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam imagine #neteyam x you #neteyam fluff #avatar #avatar fic #avatar way of the water #avatar twow #sully family #neteyam atwow

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kurishiri · 12 days ago

Text

epilogue . . . alfons main story — blind love (with letter)

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: a bit suggestive.

To him, love was a fleeting thing, and the everyday fragile.

So, that was why every day and every second, I wanted to engrave his heart and body, and hold it dear.

——That was how I loved this beloved illusion.

Kate: Roger, I found an account from this church that could be of interest.

Roger: Hm? Which one? Let me have a look.

Sometimes I would go to the basement, continuing to research matters concerning the ‘Curse of the Mirror’ alongside Roger.

Reading through documents was a given, but we would also narrow down places and people to conduct interviews as well.

(And Alfons is... ah, he’s sleeping.)

He seemed adverse to cooperating in the research, but for some reason, Alfons would accompany me every single time,

always spending his time freely, fiddling around with the tools for experiment, reading a book, or sleeping on the bed used for examinations and the like.

Roger: Al, lend your arm real quick.

Alfons: Whaaat...? ...No way. You are probably trying to draw blood from me yet again anyhow, no? Are you that smitten by my blood, you deviant?

Roger: For sure, I do like the valuable sample to monitor the blood transfusion process that is your blood.

Although his expression was distorted by displeasure, he would end up cooperating once every ten times.

(Hehe... he reminds me of a moody cat.)

Seeing Alfons’ profile cheered me up, and once again I turned back to the documents,

so that I wouldn’t forget the visage of the one who bore the Curse of the Mirror.

—— Time skip ——

Kate: Thank you for accompanying me again today.

Alfons: Hardly. If anything, thank you for your hard, albeit fruitless work today.

Kate: Hehe, it’ll bear fruit in the end, so you can rest easy.

Alfons: Yes, yes, I very much look forward to that.

(Ah... there it is again.)

Alfons would sometimes look at me with his eyes narrowed, as though he were looking at something bright.

(I like when he does that... it’s like he’s trying to burn the sight into his memories.)

Just as much as myself, it felt like Alfons, too,

tried to engrave me into his heart and body.

Alfons wasn’t one to say things like ‘I love you’ or ‘I like you’ very liberally,

so finding the ‘truth’ in these small gestures of his had grown into a habit of mine that made me happy.

Alfons: Ahh, also, Kate.

Kate: Yes...?

Alfons: I will be out once again tonight. And I won’t be returning until the next morning, so you can head to bed first.

I wanted to ask, ‘Where are you going?’ but I swallowed the words down.

—— Flashback ——

Alfons: When it comes to playing at night, it does pain me to say, but I reckon I won’t be able to stop that. It’s my hobby, pleasure, and my life work, you see.

A: The same applies to drinking and going around showing illusions——but.

A: I would very much like to try my best loving you back to the fullest.

A: So, when it comes to kisses, loving caresses, and sex... I won’t do it with anyone but you.

—— End flashback ——

I had yet to tail him to see whether his not doing such things with ‘anyone but me’ was true.

(After all... I believe in his words.)

That said, on days he went out to the city at night, I would end up thinking about nothing but him.

And when I thought about how even on those nights, Alfons carved himself deeply within me, it was endearing.

Kate: ...Alright. Have a good night out then.

Alfons: Ahha! Then how about not making such a blatantly lonely face?

Kate: ? I’m not really lonely. This is the norm, isn’t it...

Alfons: Well that leaves me in quite a pickle then. By all means, please feel the loneliness even at the norm.

Kate: Wha...

Alfons: Well then, until tomorrow.

With that, he pecked my cheeks before departing for the entrance.

(Jeez... first he says don’t make a lonely face, only for him to say right after to feel lonely...)

Roger: That guy’s pretty full of himself, huh?

Kate: R-Roger... So you were listening?

When I turned around, Roger was in the middle of the staircase leading to the basement, a mischievous smile on his face.

Roger: How about I keep you company while he’s not around, if you’re lonely?

Kate: No, it’s fine. I really am not lonely at all.

Roger: Ho-oh?

After sparing a glance toward the entrance, where Alfons disappeared,

in one smooth motion, Roger grabbed my chin and——

Roger: I think I get what Al was saying. The way your lips pout when you’re sulking is pretty cute.

Kate: ——mngh!?

He then stole my lips as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Kate: Wh... why this all of a sudden...!?

In a panic I pushed him away, and Roger quirked his lips up, not showing an ounce of remorse.

Roger: ‘Cause you’re a good woman who acts tough even when lonely, and Al’s full of openings.

(W...what should I do...)

Kate: And after Alfons told me he wouldn’t kiss anyone but me...

Roger: ... (O_O)

R: Pfft, haha! I see now, lil lady, so that’s what you were all hung up on.

Paying no mind to how I was growing pale, Roger stifled his laughter, amused.

Kate: ...? What else could I mean but that?

Roger: Haha... nothing, I say. Nothing. Sorry for teasing you. I won’t do it anymore, so you can relax.

R: Ahh, but if he makes you cry, I might end up doing something I shouldn’t.

R: I happen to like crying faces, you know.

Kate: Wh—absolutely not...! I don’t intend to cry anyway!

Roger’s lips quirked egotistically, and as if running from him, I ran up the stairs.

And then——the next day.

(Yesterday’s kiss... was on me, for not being on my guard.)

(I’ll have to be more careful from now on so there is no next time at all.)

(...It wasn’t as though I was going out of my way to make Alfons feel bad, so I think this matter is best kept a secret.)

Alfons: Why, what’s got you so positively troubled, Kate?

Kate: Eek...!?

He gave a poke to my side, causing me to jump up.

Alfons: Aha, quite sensitive, are you? Could it be in a lascivious kind too?

Kate: No, it just tickled...!

Alfons, who had returned in the morning, just woke up, and with his shirt disheveled from sleeping, he let out an amused laugh.

(Yeah, I think that matter should definitely stay a secret...)

(It’s not like Alfons tells me what he does at night either, so...!)

As a change of pace, I announced my plans for today.

Kate: Anyway, more than that, today’s the day I draw your portrait, right?

Alfons: Why of course, clear as day. Ah, perhaps I should take this off?

Kate: No, the way you are right now is fine.

Alfons placed his hands on his shirt button, when I stopped him and pushed him down on the chair.

Alfons: If the ink is going to disappear, you wanted to test out making a painting in its stead?

A: And the day before that, by that same line of logic, you also took photos, no?

A: Oh, and sometime before that, I seem to recall you using a gramophone or some recent technology like that to record my voice...

Kate: Just in case, okay! Anyway, stay still now.

Alfons: Yes, alright.

After some bantering, Alfons crossed his long legs and rested his chin on his hand.

I set up the easel and canvas, then began to sketch.

Alfons: So you can paint pictures as well, can you, Kate? I didn’t know.

Kate: But I can’t draw? That’s why I’m practicing.

K: But I’ll be good at it by the time I become a grandma, and I’ll become a master artist.

Alfons: Ahha! Are you implying you intend to live with me until your elderly years?

A: What rose-colored glasses you must wear, given your partner works for an assassination organization.

(Of course, I do know that. And nobody knows when death comes knocking either.)

The things I’m doing right now also may not amount to much when it comes to overcoming his fate as well.

(But, even so...)

Kate: But that’s exactly why I want to engrave this moment we’re living together in me.

Alfons: ...Hehe, what an earnest soul.

Once again, Alfons kept his eyes on me as though he were looking at something dazzling.

Every time I looked at him to make sure I got his figure, my eyes would meet with that look I’ve come to hold so dear, causing my heart to skip a beat.

(I-I have to focus.)

As if to rid myself of any distractions, I moved the charcoal. But...

(This... I can’t even say this can even amount to a ‘lack of skill.’)

The more lines I connected, the more despair I felt at the result.

Alfons: Is there something wrong? You’ve been growing ever more paler, dare I say.

Kate: Ah, don’t move from there... agh, don’t look!

Alfons: Let’s see now——

The moment he laid his eyes on the canvas with the disastrous drawing on it,

Alfons, paying no mind to any consideration, pointed at the painting and burst out laughing.

Alfons: Ahaha! T-this... are you telling me that’s a person, by any chance? Ahahahaha!

Kate: From now on, I say! From now on, I’ll get better!

Alfons: Hah... truly, you are quite interesting.

After laughing so hard to the point of tears, Alfons took the charcoal from my hand.

Kate: Ah...!

Alfons: Say, Kate.

A: If you do want to improve... wouldn’t it be better to get to know my body even more?

Kate: ...!

Hearing his seductive tone——my body started to sweetly ache suddenly, as if a switch had flipped on then and there.

My fingers, no longer holding the charcoal after having been taken away by Alfons, was tempted toward the buttons on his shirt.

Kate: ...Your shirt... it’ll get stained...

Alfons: Then by all means, go ahead and stain it, with your fingers.

He went out of his way to use suggestive wording as he relished my reactions.

(I know that... and yet...)

He made me imagine lewd scenarios, as expected, and my body became wet on its own with anticipation.

(...It’s like I’m being trained to Alfons’ tastes,)

(and it is embarrassing... but it also makes me happy.)

After all, it was proof that he was carving his love into me——

And I ended up feeling happy, to a hopeless extent.

When I took off his buttons, Alfons invited my fingertips within.

Alfons: See now, if you touch me like this... you can get to know my figure better, no?

Kate: ...!

While being guided by him, my fingers went from his chest to his stomach, as though tracing his muscles——

Kate: ah... Alfons...

Alfons: Make sure you remember this shape well, alright?

——By the time I touched his heat, I had already fallen into his sweet trap.

—— Time skip ——

Alfons: You took my picture, recorded my voice, and even made a painting... but in the end, none of them may be left behind, you know.

After the sketching gradually devolved into a sweet moment in bed——

I was sulking while Alfons was playing languidly with my hair with an amused smile.

Alfons: I actually did not like photos, you know?

Kate: ...Really?

Alfons: Indeed. All that to say, you have taken my virginity when it comes to photos, so be sure to take responsibility for that.

He booped the tip of my nose, and my heart throbbed sweetly in response, having forgotten I was sulking before.

(Alfons, who had tried to throw aside this relationships without taking responsibility and disappear,)

(was now saying binding words to this relationship, like ‘take responsibility’ and whatnot...)

I felt happiness bubble up inside me at that——but at the same time, I remembered something I had felt guilty about.

(Here Alfons is, trying his best to love me to the fullest,)

(so thinking I should keep a secret from him... is not really good, is it.)

Kate: U-um... Alfons, actually, I have something I need to apologize for...

Alfons: Well I’ll be, an amusing feeling does tickle me. So, what is it?

Kate: I...

K: While you were out, I got kissed by Roger.

Alfons: ......... (O_O)

Kate: So, I’m really sorry...

After a bout of surprise——Alfons burst out laughing, his shoulders trembling.

(W-why is he laughing...?)

Alfons: Ahh... you...really are... hehe——

A: For the record, if it’s a ‘kiss you don’t really mean,’ then by all means, go kiss however many times you fancy.

Kate: Wha—!? But, you said you wouldn’t do it with anyone but me...

Alfons: It hardly counts if you were forced into it anyhow, no? That’s nothing but an accident, I’d say.

(Oh, I see, thank goodness… hm? But wait…)

Kate: Wouldn’t that mean you also don’t count such kisses then?

Alfons: Oopsie, that was my bad. I got a tad loose-lipped there.

Kate: ………Ever since you told me you would only kiss me, how many times have you kissed?

Alfons: Weeell, my memory is quite a bit foggy. Perhaps two or three times, if I had to guess?

(I swear, this man——!)

Going on top of him, I pressed my lips on his in a reckless motion.

I found it frustrating how his lips took in mine with an amused smile playing on them.

Kate: Mm… Alfons, you good-for-nothing, you!

Alfons: Oh, I am very well aware of that.

Kate: You womanizer! Liar! Pervert!

Alfons: Why, that last one does have a positively nice ring to my ears, yes?

Kate: Eek…

I tumbled down onto the bed, our positions reversed.

The springs of the bed sounded as Alfons went on top of me.

Alfons: And… have you come to dislike this good-for-nothing, womanizer, liar and pervert?

Kate: …I……! ——!

While doing things he shouldn’t, he already knew how I would answer as he smiled like the devil.

And as if to burn the sight of each of my reactions in him——his eyes narrowed like he was looking at something bright.

(There he goes again, playing with my feelings like a toy and teasing me… he really is out there.)

(But…)

Kate: I… I like… it…

(I can’t bear to think about a life without you in it anymore.)

Alfons: And I as well, Kate.

Those lips, curved up in an arc, showered kisses on me.

I didn’t want this playful exchange between us to end.

Until they were engraved into my memory, and left a scar that would never fade away, I wanted it to last forevermore.

Today as well, a gloomy darkness blanketed over London, as always.

The man who went around showing illusions as a temporary escape from reality threw his body into the darkness of the night once again.

Roger: Heading out again? You just never learn, do you.

Alfons: I could very much say the same for you. Do you find it that fun to talk with me?

Roger: Well, if only I could find out what you’re really up to, what with you making her lonely and uncertain every time.

Alfons: And what makes you think I would openly share that with you?

Roger: Beats me. But if there ever comes a day you don’t come back the next morning, I’ll be taking the lil lady.

R: ——What would you do, if I said that?

Alfons: Ahha! Are you insinuating that I’ll once again up and kick the bucket just like that?

With a smile, Alfons turned toward Roger.

Alfons: The prospect of dying first can dig itself in a ditch for all I care.

A: Even if it’s by one minute — or even by a single second — I will die after Kate.

A: After all, I would just loathe to be forgotten by her, you see.

A: Ahh, and before I forget——

Roger: …!

He grabbed Roger by the collar and pulled him in.

With a smile plastered on his face, those ashy gray eyes seemed to contain an icy, murderous intent.

Alfons: …The next time you kiss Kate, I will bite off these lips of yours.

Spitting out those words as if trying to hit him with them, he turned his back and frock coat on the castle and departed.

Roger: I see now. …So even the way he loves is a handful.

As Roger saw him off, he immediately heard two people’s footsteps.

Kate: …Oh, Roger, what good timing.

Roger: Hm? What’s up, lil lady… and is that Elbert?

Elbert: I was taking a stroll… when Kate called out to me…

Kate: Roger, could you help with tail… or rather, umm, oh yes, that’s it!

K: Could you accompany us… on this stroll while watching his back?

Roger: …So the lil lady’s love is also the same.

Kate: Did you say something…?

Roger: Nope, I was just talking to myself.

To him, love was a fleeting thing, and the everyday fragile.

So that’s why, no matter if it was night or day, he would play me and drive me to insanity——that was his way of love.

He seemed to enjoy it more since falling in love with me.

And today as well, I was being played by this villainous, yet ever endearing illusion.

To you, my beloved

I tried to add on ‘my beloved’ and whatnot.

So, how goes it? Did your heart skip a beat or two?

I’m the one who wrote it of my own volition, but I couldn’t help but laugh.

After all, this is the first time ever writing something as colorful as ‘my beloved’... it just seemed like I wasn’t myself, like this wasn’t reality at all.

However, when looking at those words, I am sure that more likely than not, you would have a happy grin on your face, and when I thought of that, it wasn’t a bad feeling.

Ah, wouldn’t you say this has come to sound a bit like a love letter? I suppose I really can do it if I try.

Someday, the words I’ve penned on this paper with this ink will fade to nothing.

So that’s why, Kate, engrave these words in your eyes and your mind... so you may never forget.

And now at this point, it’s become a tad like a cursed letter, so I will end it around here.

Ahh, it completely slipped my mind to write out a naughty invitation that you so seem to enjoy. Indeed, how unlike me.

What shall it be tonight... Well, I suppose I’ll use this quill to play a little prank on your body. Do look forward to it, alright? Well then, until next time.

← prev fin. both ends clear

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